Abstinence

48 Hours

As my husband and I drove through Zion National Park last month, slowly leaving behind the bustling city of St. George, I thought I'd have no trouble going 48 hours without technology at Zion Mountain Ranch—but I was wrong.

When we arrived at our cabin, we found ourselves "camping" comfortably, with a fireplace, running water and, here's the kicker, cable TV. We crawled into bed and cozied up with the gas-burning fireplace blazing in the corner and the TV beckoning our name—it was March Madness after all. Though my husband wanted to turn on the game, we shut off our phones and caught some shut-eye. 

And then we woke up and showered, drove to the restaurant down the street for breakfast and headed back to the cabin for some buffalo grazing. I whipped my Canon out of its bag and began documenting the beautiful animals and our surroundings. We went about our day, consisting of more driving around admiring the national park, hiking for beautiful pictures and grabbing treats at tourist shops to snack on throughout the day.

We settled back into our quaint cabin that night, ignored the beckoning TV and caught some shut-eye.

The next morning we woke early and met with a friend for some shooting. We put on our electronic hearing protection and listened to the muffled sound of our bullets hitting our targets. After a couple of hours, we hopped back into the truck and rolled down the windows for some fresh air. We grabbed lunch at a nearby restaurant before heading home.

"I did it," I thought. "I went 48 hours without technology."

But I was wrong. I had used technology when I warmed up with the fireplace, I had used technology when I had a hot shower in the morning, I had used technology when I drove to the restaurant, drove around the park, drove back home. I had used technology when I captured photos on my camera and when I stopped for lunch at the restaurant. I had even used technology when I replaced traditional orange ear plugs with 60 dollar electronic ones.

The only technology I really didn't use was my phone. 

And I thought I had gone 48 hours without. 

To say I met the requirements of this assignment might be a lie. But to say my eyes were open to all the technology that I take for granted is nothing shy of the truth. How naive of me to think that by shutting off my phone and avoiding the "on" button on the TV, I was going without technology. I never thought of a gas-burning fireplace as technology. I never thought of running water as technology. I never thought of a car as technology, or a DSLR or hearing protection or eating at a restaurant. 

I was so wrapped up in not using my phone, that I didn't even recognize just how much I was using technology—in all of its forms.