We had two grown-up days, just the two of us, amongst the hot red rocks. We sat in a vortex, absorbed the dry heat, came back twice for a Jamaican jerk pineapple tempeh burger, walked long into the desert, rested, and often enjoyed each other's company in silence. It was a quiet trip, other than waiting an hour and a half to taste the supposedly best pizza in the U.S. I was skeptical it would be worth it, but indeed it was.