Learning to trust the process

West Sedona — Monsoon Afternoons & Red Rock Evenings

Sedona sits at about 4,360 feet in elevation and is famous for its towering red sandstone formations — part of the Schnebly Hill Formation, whose deep color comes from oxidized iron. I found a quiet camp spot in West Sedona where the mesas framed the horizon, and every evening felt like witnessing a painting being created.

The monsoon sky built itself like clockwork. Puffy clouds turned to thunderheads, lightning flashed miles away, and the desert air shifted just before the first drops hit. Then the sun broke through and turned the red rock into a glowing canvas of gold, pink, and orange.

Staying in one place for several nights gave me the space to exhale and notice how it felt to trust the setup again — to trust that the fridge would stay running, the power would hold, the rig would start when I turned the key. That trust made it easier to stay still, to sit outside through a storm, to let the sky finish its painting before packing anything away.

Rim Road 300 — Life on the Edge of the Plateau

After Sedona, I climbed east to Rim Road 300, a winding dirt road that hugs the Mogollon Rim — the dramatic southern edge of the Colorado Plateau. The Rim stretches nearly 200 miles across Arizona, topping out around 8,000 feet. Up here the air changes — cooler, pine-scented, thin enough to notice when you breathe deep.

I set up camp facing a south-facing drop-off, with sweeping views over the valley. Each morning I woke to a sunrise that poured straight into camp, reminding me to slow down before the day rushed in. Trust, again, was the quiet theme. Trust that the gear was dialed. Trust that staying put was the right move. Trust that slowing down wouldn’t cost me anything I couldn’t get back.

The hike to Bear Canyon Lake was the perfect punctuation. The trail was quiet, pine needles soft underfoot. When the lake came into view, it was perfectly still — and for the first time in weeks, I felt the same way.

Why It Matters

This episode was about more than two locations — it was about rebuilding confidence. Sedona and the Rim offered the perfect places to test that: red rock storms and pine forest mornings reminding me that trust takes time.

Trust that the systems will work.
Trust that the road will hold me.
And maybe most importantly, trust that I can slow down and let it.

Trust takes time — and I’m learning to be patient with my investments, with my gear, and with myself. Episode 07 feels like the first chapter in a new pace for the road ahead.