Confession: Mark and I are the world’s worst planners.

 

Like… aggressively optimistic procrastinators.

 

We just finished booking our spring break camping trip last week. Which, if you know anything about camping in Colorado and Utah, is slightly chaotic behavior. Everything is reservation-based now. Zion. Bryce. Capitol Reef. The good spots? Gone months ago.

 

So waiting until the last second? Adds a little spice.

 

Last year we took the Airstream down through New Mexico, Ojo Caliente, Taos, Albuquerque, Santa Fe. We tried some traditional RV parks and quickly realized… we hated it. The rows of rigs. The zero privacy. The KOA energy. Not our thing.

So this year, we did it differently.

 

First stop: Moab. State park camping near Arches and Canyonlands (long overdue for Mark and Rory).

 

Then we’ll roll south toward Zion and settle into a smaller campground about 30 minutes outside the park. Red rock mornings? Elite.

I briefly tried to make Lake Powell happen… and the RV situation felt chaotic. So we pivoted to something far more us: a funky, hippie hot spring spot called Mystic Hot Springs that looks like an absolute hoot.

 

Spring break, for me, has always meant heading toward warmth.

 

I grew up camping every spring break. Utah. New Mexico. Arizona. It’s one of those rhythms that feels stitched into who I am.

 

There’s something grounding about loading up the Airstream. Mapping drive times. Packing snacks for a toddler and two dogs. Figuring it out as you go.

 

It’s not glamorous. It’s not perfectly planned. And it rarely goes exactly how we imagine.

 

And in a season that’s about to get wildly busy in real estate, it feels important to step away for a minute. To unplug. To trade open houses for open desert.

 

To chase warmth.

 

If you’ve got a Moab or Zion must-do, send it my way. We’re always up for a little adventure. ✨