Hey friends — Matt here.

If you're reading this, welcome to The Road Report. This is "notes from the road" — not a polished gear catalogue, not a drone-shot dream reel. Just the stuff I'd text a friend after a trip: what worked, what didn't, and what I'd do again.

We just got back from Moab. It was unreal. It was also windy enough that at one point I watched a camp chair try to become a kite. So… classic.

The Trip: Four Days, One Canyon at a Time

I came in from the north on 191. Pulled off just south of town at dusk. The canyon walls caught the last of the light and turned the color of a campfire, and I sat in the driver's seat for a full five minutes and did not move.

That's when I knew Moab was going to be a problem.

Four days isn't long — but it's enough to do it right if you're deliberate about it. Here's the sequence I'd run again:

Matt's 4-Day Moab Loop — van-optimized

Night 1 — Arrive. Pull into Kane Creek Blvd dispersed camping just outside town. Free BLM sites, know your van's clearance. Get set up before dark — the sunset views are genuinely absurd.

Day 2 — Arches NP. Enter before 7am or after 4pm. Timed entry bites hard in spring. Park at Devils Garden and explore outward. Don't skip Delicate Arch, even if it's crowded.

Day 3 — Canyonlands + Utahraptor. Morning at Canyonlands — Island in the Sky, Grand View Point. That silence will physically affect you. Afternoon detour to Utahraptor State Park — underrated, different energy, worth it. Resupply at City Market on the way back to camp.

Day 4 — Dead Horse Point, departure. Pay the day-use fee on your way out. It's the most dramatic canyon view in the American Southwest. Fight me.

"The desert doesn't care how prepared you are. It will show you the gap between who you are and who you think you are — and it will do it cheerfully."

Tip 1 of 3: Wind Doesn't Care About Your Campsite Vibe

Moab wind is like that one friend who shows up uninvited and rearranges everything. One afternoon off Kane Creek I watched a cutting board become a frisbee. Caught it. Barely.

Three things that actually helped:

Setup Time. 10-minute camp setup max. If it takes an hour, you'll do it annoyed. Simplify your system before you go.

Light Stuff. Anything that can catch wind gets stowed before dark. Always. Camp chairs, bags, anything loose.

One Zone. Designate one spot you can reset fast — two chairs, one light, done. That's the whole camp.

If you've never tried to cook while holding a cutting board down with your elbow… you will.

Tip 2 of 3: Power Is the Unsexy Thing That Makes Everything Else Work

Four days off-grid. No hookups. Fridge running constantly. Laptop, camera batteries, lights, a fan on the warmer nights. The stuff that keeps you comfortable out there is mostly boring — until it stops working. Then it's the only thing you think about.

On this trip, our friends at EcoFlow hooked us up with a solar setup that made the whole "roughing it" thing feel… not that rough.

The setup I ran for four days off-grid in Moab

EcoFlow sent us two units for this trip — the Delta 3 Max and the Delta 3 Ultra — paired with their 220W foldable solar panel. I ran both, and here's what I actually noticed: dead quiet operation (the kind that matters when you're parked next to strangers at a BLM site), a real app that shows you draw in real time, and solar input that kept pace with what I was pulling even on a long driving day. The panels folded down and stashed flat. Setup was genuinely plug in, prop up, done.

Tip 3 of 3: Eating Well on the Road Is Mostly Planning, Not Discipline

Moab is not a place where "we'll figure it out later" works. Later becomes gas-station dinner. The nearest anything is further than it looks on the map.

My four-item grocery plan that actually held up out there:

• One protein you'll actually eat — chicken sausage for me, every time.
• Something green, zero chopping required — arugula has a tang that goes with everything.
• Fruit you can grab with one hand — Honeycrisp, obviously.
• One dinner that feels like a win — steak tips and baked potato, no notes.

That's it. Not meal prep. Just making the good choice the easy choice before you're tired and forty miles from a grocery store.

The Last Night

On the last night I was parked at Kane Creek, completely alone, watching a thunderstorm build over the La Sal Mountains. I had cell service for exactly three minutes. I used it to text my mom that I was fine.

Then the signal went. I made dinner. And the storm lit up the sky in slow, silent flashes for two hours while the EcoFlow quietly kept the fridge cold and my camera charged in the background.

There are people who want exactly this kind of trip and don't know how to get there. That's why this newsletter exists.

See you on the next one.

— Matt

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