Listing Through Life

We woke up Monday to rain. It continued all through our waffle breakfast and our 45-minute drive to Zion National Park. As we passed through Springdale, we saw a sign that read, “Zion NP lots filled. Park in town.” This depressed me so much that I chose to ignore it — none of the parking spaces in town were actually being used.

When we got to the gate and paid our $30, we were allowed in without hesitation. The visitor center lot was only half filled. (The same sign was lit up on Tuesday, when the park was more crowded, but we still had no trouble parking by the visitor center.)

Cars are only allowed on one road through the park. Everywhere else is only accessible by shuttle bus. We oriented ourselves, then climbed aboard. This was our view for much of the time we were in the park.

Or this (taken later in the day).

We got off at the museum, which turned out to be worthless. The peaks behind the building are known as the Virgins because the river that runs through the canyon is the Virgin River (named for an early explorer named Thomas Virgin).

Back on the bus to the Court of the Patriarchs. We got off at this stop for about half an hour, and it was my favorite time in the park. It was still drizzling, which was keeping a lot of people away. There was only a short trail to an overlook across the river from the peaks named Abraham, Isaac, Jacob, and Moroni (the angel that supposedly appeared to Joseph Smith — Utah is 61% Mormon). A flock of 12 Wild Turkeys foraged along the road. The clouds were moving down the canyon, wrapping around the cliffs. It reminded me of photos I’ve seen of Asian mountains.

Instead of climbing on the next bus, we walked across the road and down by the river.

This was the only place in the park, and pretty much the only place on our entire trip, where I saw many birds.

The next bus stop was the Zion Lodge. It was early, but we decided to beat whatever lunch crush there might be and eat in the grill in the lodge. My wife had a Navajo taco, which she said was delicious. I cannot for the life of me remember what I had, which means that it make no impression on me good or bad. Our waitress was a friendly young Navajo woman named Sam who asked us where we were from and where we were going. She grew up in Monument Valley and recommended a restaurant there where we could get authentic Navajo frybread. (We tried it a couple days later and were unimpressed. More on that in a future post.)

It continued raining as we ate but cleared up about the time we left the building. We hiked to the Lower Emerald Pool, about a mile round-trip.

This hike became funny, but not in a good way. Many of our fellow-hikers were from other countries where they, apparently, have different customs regarding behavior in crowds. Several times we were run off the trail by groups who took up the entire width and refused to give ground, even when we did our part and got as far to the right as we could. These hikers would look me right in the face and keep coming. I had to choice to either step off the trail or run smack head-on into them.

And when we got to the falls, I experienced another odd behavior. There were certain spots that were best for taking photos. I’d wait for others to get their shots, then step up to take my pictures — only to have someone step immediately in front of me and my camera to get their shot. It became so frequent and obvious that we just began laughing about it

When we were done with that trail, we got on the bus and rode to the Big Bend stop. Crews were working on the road at that end of the park, so the bus ride was long and slow. When we got there, I walked a short trail down to the river. I soon found myself on a shelf of mud and rock with no other people anywhere around. I stayed about 15 minutes and soaked up the view. It may have been the most beautiful spot I’ve ever been in, although my photos don’t begin to capture it.

We endured the long ride back to the visitor center. Since the rain had stopped, tons of people had materialized. That, plus the road work, made for a somewhat-irritating end to an otherwise great day.

I can’t remember what we did for supper, but I know we had a long stretch to spend in the hotel that night. Neither chair in our room was comfortable, but one was much less comfortable than the other. We took turns getting numb-butt in the lousy chair.

There was nothing quick about our drive across Utah. Our general direction was southwest, but we spent a lot of time going in every other direction except, perhaps, straight east. Almost every stretch of it was stunning, and we didn’t even mind the rain that followed us for much of the day.

Cedar Breaks National Monument is above 10,000 feet. There was snow on the ground and snow on the paths, but the roads were clear. The park had shut down for the winter — the visitor center and bathrooms were closed — but we could still get to the overlook.

The late afternoon sun painted the rocks with their brightest colors. The only other people there were three young couples traveling together who were taking turns photographing each other with their eyes closed.

We stayed perhaps 10 minutes. It was getting late, and we still had a fair distance to drive. But even that brief view was worth the effort.

I’d made reservations at a Hampton Inn in St. George, Utah. I’d never heard of St. George and figured it to be a small town. When we arrived, I stopped at a Hampton Inn. Turns out there are two in town, and I was at the wrong one. I headed another six miles south to an exit just two miles from the Arizona border where there was a very new Hampton Inn. We checked in and then looked for a place to eat. We ended up at Habit Burger, a Five-Guys-type place back by the first Hampton Inn.

It seemed like everything in town was at that exit except our Hampton Inn. We ended up there again the next morning for breakfast at Waffle Love.

This was the view from our room, looking north — taken two days after we arrived.

We had some time to kill in our hotel. I don’t remember why we didn’t drive the 34 minutes it would have taken us to get into Nevada.

At some point on Saturday evening, My wife asked me if we were just driving again on Sunday. That had actually been my plan. We had reservations at a hotel in St. George, Utah, and I figured we’d head that way with maybe a brief stop at Cedar Breaks National Monument.

But when she asked that question, I began to ponder. I had plenty of time to kill in the hotel room, so I looked at our options. I found another route, a much less direct one, that would take us right through Capitol Reef National Park, along the edge of Grand Staircase-Escalante National Monument, through a bit of Bryce Canyon National Park, and still allow us to see Cedar Breaks National Monument.

We left shortly after dawn and were soon on a two-lane blacktop through the middle of nowhere. We reached Capitol Reef around 9:30, with very little idea of what there was to see there. Before we’d even gotten to the main part of the park, we saw a sign for the Hickman Bridge trailhead and decided to begin adventuring.

The cottonwoods along the Fremont river were at peak fall splendor, and the back-lighting from the sun made the colors electric.

The trail climbed up a bluff, dipped down into a wash, and twisted around cliffs.

There were other people on the trail, but not many. It wasn’t difficult to get photos without them. The bridge was impressive. We saw several others during the week, but this remained one of my favorites.

A view of the Fruita Historic District from the bridge trail.

We drove a short way down the road and stopped again to see the petroglyphs on the cliff. The figures of animals and people were done an estimated 700 years ago by local Indians.

We stopped at the Gifford house, built in 1908 by a Morman polygamist. The last owners moved out in 1969. It’s now a gift shop that sells fresh baked pies. I got triple-berry. My wife got cherry. Both were amazing.

We drove the scenic drive along the Waterpocket Fold, a ripple in the earth’s surface. There were two narrow dirt roads leading off the main drive, and we explored both of them.

We felt like we were alone in the world, but at the end of both drives, there was a crowded parking lot. We didn’t get out to explore because we still had a long way to drive.

As we were leaving the park, gray skies closed in and it began to rain.

Capitol Reef was by far the least-crowded of the National Parks we visited. That probably accounts for why it was one of my favorites. That and the pie.