-The first time I went to Moab I was about 8. I remember having A LOT of fun with my sister and driving my parents nuts. And losing my purple canteen. I still look for it every time I go.
-The second time I went to Moab I was 13. We went with my entire extended family and I rode down in a car with my cousin Melissa who slowed our WHOLE caravan of cars down. She wouldn't pass slow moving vehicles because she was afraid of getting hit by an oncoming semi truck. I also remember us all staying in this house we rented that was so ghetto. When my cousin Matt turned the AC on ants flew out of it.
-The third time I went I was 21. I went down with my brand new husband (we'd been married a month and half). This is my blog so you are going to get my version of the events. Collin told me to pack my stuff and leave it on the kitchen table so he could pack it into the truck. I wore pink pajama pants on the way down (best way to travel). We got there just fine. My bag? Left on the kitchen table. It's still a point of contention.
-The fourth time we went down I was 25 and it was pretty uneventful. I packed my own bags.
-The fifth time we went down was last week and it rained. I also lost my purple Lipsmackers (Hmm, purple, I am sensing a trend).We had a lot of fun, though. I posted more pics on Facebook (they download faster there, what can I say?)
