KELLEY AND DAVE'S EXCELLENT ADVENTURE: WEEK 4, Zion, Cedar Breaks, Red Canyon, Bryce, Grand Escalante, Coral Sand Dunes; Buckskin Gulch Slots, Lake Powell, ARIZONA

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KELLEY AND DAVE’S EXCELLENT ADVENTURE

The Big Trip West…Notes From the road:

WEEK FOUR.
Thursday, June 12, Zion. Our peaceful night in the campsite with flute compliment turned into a cold and windy early morning that, because of the buffeting winds, allowed me only 5 hours sleep. In addition, some flute enthusiast began playing their flute at sunrise. At 6am I went into the camp showers and heard other women grumbling about the noisy flutes and cold, howling wind that ended their sleep far too early. Apparently there were many flutists in the campsite and I later found out there was a weeklong series of Indian flute concerts culminating in a “Flute Extravaganza” this coming weekend.
Our camping experience has not been the most ideal since we have yet to stay more than one night in a campsite which means setting up and tearing down each time we use the tent. Still, we have become more efficient with experience and with the exception of my being cold and not sleeping well, I do like being outdoors at night. Maybe I can get a motel room with big open screens and a heater.
Although we camped in Zion for two nights the campsite we were registered in last night, located immediately outside of the park, was full for tonight (the Flute players beat us to it), so we packed up our tent, had a quick breakfast and headed to the Zion National Park Campground where the campsites are first come, first served. We hit the jackpot on this one with a very private site overlooking a meadow and the infamous red Zion cliffs. We quickly set up the tent and picked up the free park bus to begin to explore the Zion Canyon Scenic Drive. The bus conveniently stops at many points along the way up and down the 90 minute (one way) ride. We disembarked at the History Museum for a 20 minute movie about the geology and history of Zion where we learned that the Grand Canyon, Zion and Bryce are all part of the Grand Circle, America’s largest concentration of national parks, monuments and scenic roads covering Utah, Colorado, New Mexico and Arizona. The Colorado River has carved a score of canyons throughout this Grand Circle. For a bit of quick reference: the bottom of Zion forms the top of the Grand Canyon while Bryce is in the middle of the Grand Staircase. The whole geological shift took place millions of years ago when what we now call the United States, was two separate continents. It seems hard to believe that in this arid desert landscape, the massive rock formations of Zion, a Hebrew word for refuge, were once formed by water. It is also surprising to see so many trees, shrubs and flowers that have adapted themselves to relatively little water. Cottonwood, Velvet Ash, Ponderosa Pine and Quaking Aspen seem to soak up enough water to shade the columbines, ferns and sages that are at their feet or tucked into hot rocky crevices in the many ecosystems within the canyon.
The national parks within this area are easily accessible by car but in order to truly experience any of these wonderful places you have to get out of that car and stretch your legs. I have been doing just that for three weeks and am getting more physically fit each day. After nearly a year of injury-therapy-surgery-recovery (with a month-long trip to England thrown in the middle) I was sorely out of shape and worried about my ability to hike and climb in these high elevations. Although I am not rappelling or even doing the all-day trails, I am walking and hiking moderate to easy trails several hours every day and feel all the better for it.
The Grand Circle area’s human history spans over 10,000 years. The Paiute, like many Native Americans, have descended from the ancient Anasazi who lived in this area about 2,000 years ago,. The present day Paiute speak of the murmurs of the Ancient Ones in the wind and the trees and the birds. Although the land is vast and seemingly empty of residents, it is easy to feel this history in the marvelous landscape that surrounds us.
Eager to explore what we just learned about, we hopped on a shuttle that took us to the first stop. The Three Patriarchs is our first stop along the Virgin River in Zion. There are so many biblical references named by the early Mormons in this, our first of Utah’s National Parks. The next stop is at the Zion Lodge where we picked up the trail to the Emerald Pools where waterfalls (although not pouring hard at this time of the year) drip continuously from rock ledges into an “emerald” pool creating a moist oasis in the hot desert rocks. We continued to climb to the higher pools but somehow made a wrong turn and ended up in the Grotto by the Virgin River, miles below the pools. We hopped on a shuttle back to the lodge where we sat on the vast lawn (that’s right in the middle of this desert) and had a picnic lunch.
“Our” or should I say my next walk was the Riverside Walk, a lovely, several mile long walk in the canyon beside the river. Water constantly weeps and drips along the cool edges of the cliffs in the Hanging Gardens, a little oasis where yellow and peach columbines hang on the cliffs next to ferns and mosses and red penstemens. The Black Chinned hummingbirds were too fast for my camera but they zoomed in and out of my sight lighting on several flowers and drinking from the fresh running streams that streaked the cliff walls. Along these walks I found the Grace’s Warbler, Western Bluebird, Ravens, Steller’s Jay, Vireos, Magpies and many Violet-Green Swallows that spent the day diving for bugs. (I had seen most of these birds at the Grand Canyon along with the Condor, several Orioles and Flycatchers.) Dave later spotted a Red Shouldered Hawk and a White Pelican!
Dave missed this walk but when I returned to the shuttle shelter I found him refreshed from a nap and ready to tackle the Hidden Canyon where we found high above us the Weeping Rock, where water cascades down over a rock ledge from a spring that is centuries old. It was quite pleasant to be sprayed by this cool water in the hot afternoon. This habitat was quite similar to the cliffs along the river so I was glad Dave had the opportunity to experience this moist and pleasant space.
The shuttle runs often and punctually making it easy to access the trails and return to your car without spewing gas fumes and creating long lines of traffic. If you are lucky you will get a driver with a wonderful personality who shared information about geology and plant life along the way back. he pointed out Utah Daisies, White Sego Lily (the state flower of Utah) Chocolate Flowers or Brown-Eyed Daisies, Prince’s Plume, Daturas (The Indians used the Datura as a hallucinogen in their ceremonies and local ranchers called it Jimson Weed or Loco Weed as it made their cattle go crazy) and my favorite, Sweet Peas.
The moon was rising and we still had some time before dinner so Dave and I drove back out to the Zion-Mt Carmel Highway that we drove in on at record speed to get to the campsite. This time we took it slowly and I was able to photograph the Slick Rock and Checkerboard Mesa and look for the elusive Big Horn Sheep. We never did get to see the sheep but I was satisfied gazing at the reflection of the warm afternoon sun on the towering sandstone cliffs of Zion, 3,000 feet thick in some places, some of which are the tallest in the world. I tried to imagine the now calm Virgin River, 10-12 million years ago carving out the canyons or the volcanoes and massive geological shifts forming of the ribbons of color of the Colorado Plateau up as high as 10,000 feet some 180 million years ago. This puts everything into perspective.
Now I know that the cockroach is an ancient insect and will likely survive after we are all gone, but I did not expect to see one looking up at me from a toilet seat in the bathroom at the Zion National Park. That also puts things into perspective.
We were pretty tired at the end of the day but knew we should eat so we drove into Springdale to find us some grub. We ended up at the Whiptail Grill, a little hole in the wall that had an enthusiastic clientele. Dave, thinking he was ordering something light, ended up with a huge hamburger with green chilies that turned his face quite red. I had a spaghetti squash casserole with cheese and chilies that was quite good but also pretty hot. We washed it all down with a cold beer and headed back to our peaceful tent in the canyon.
Friday the 13th of June. Finally a quiet night in the meadows under Zion’s rock sentinels until the 5am windstorm rattled the tent and brought chills down my spine. The overnight temperature was around 45 degrees and with a strong wind it was quite chilly. I shuffled off to the bathroom (the camp’s showers were 1 ½ miles away so we decided to make due with a sponge bath in the bathroom until we got to our motel that night. Boy what a wake up call that was! There was no hot water (I am seeing a theme here) and the small room was freezing. I stripped down and washed up as fast as I could then dashed back to the tent to help Dave pack it all up. We left the beautiful but chilly campsite and headed to the hot breakfast buffet at Bumbleberry’s Restaurant where we met up with a father and son traveling from Maine. I had been so good up until now but the smells of the sausage and bacon and maple syrup and French toast just tickled my nose and my fancy and now jiggles my thighs and my waistline.
About 10 pounds heavier we left Zion on Route 9 through the three or so houses that make up the empty town of Virgin heading west towards Route 17. Beautiful hollyhocks grew wild by the side of this country road as we began to lose some of the ragged red rock cliffs heading down into the rolling sandy and more densely populated valley of La Verkin. Just outside of the rural town of Toquerville Dave spied a cow pasture-cemetery and across the street was a tall old dead tree strewn with hundreds of laced shoes.
Our scenic route took us north to Cedar City but Mario doesn’t want to stop at scenic waysides because the slowpokes will get ahead of us and we would lose “the race”. (What race I might wonder?) We were on a beautiful drive with snow capped mountains rising above the blue sage desert. East of Cedar City off of Route 14 we arrived at the breathtaking Cedar Breaks National Monument 10,000 feet up in the high Colorado Plateau. Last week they had a heavy snowstorm that left considerable piles of snow for us to play in. Although it was 56 degrees it was cold enough to form snowballs so a quick snowball fight ensued, Dave in long pants, me in my shorts. Guess who won. There was little sign of spring this June at 10,460 feet. Dandelions and the hints of bluebells were seen on the forest floor while the aspen and other deciduous trees had not even leafed out yet. Mule deer were in abundance foraging for food through the patches of snow. Cedar Breaks provided us with our first glimpse of hoodoos, the tall ghostly sedimentary columns of rock that are topped with hard limestone that protects them from immediate erosion from the repeated freezes and thaws. The hoodoos are more readily identified with Bryce National Park since the park is larger and has them in abundance.
Back in the car, we are refreshed and Dave is even ready to stop for photos. We drove through towns called Pole Hollow and Little Valley as we headed into Dixie National Forest. I spied some lava rock on the scenic route 143 to Panguitch so once again I pressed Dave into stopping to check it out. It looked just like the lava sheets that we had seen in Arizona so I commandeered some samples for the kids. But the stop made Mario late for his destination and so there he was, at it again, driving in the trunk of the car ahead of us and taking sharp corners on steep downhill slopes on two wheels (to save the breaks). I screamed at him then buried my nose in the computer, until there was a photo-op in Panguitch: a town dump was on the left in the otherwise empty desert landscape and next to it were three probable movie sets that stood in the desert scrub propped up by the side of the road. I convinced Mario to stop but the shot seemed impossible without taking the time to walk the site (I didn’t push my luck). I did use this opportunity to relieve Mario of the keys and I drove safely off to the Red Canyon.
The breathtaking Red Canyon was not on our itinerary so Destination Dave was in a snit about stopping. We had not eaten lunch so I convinced him that this would be a good spot and his humor improved remarkably. After lunch, we stepped inside the Red Canyon Visitor’s Center and I asked the park ranger about sites to see enroute to Bryce. Well, he lit up like a light bulb bursting with enthusiasm. Dave sauntered up to the counter and when the ranger asked me how I liked the area, I mentioned that I simply loved the Red Canyon and all the wonderful places we had seen on the way. I also mentioned that Dave didn’t think there was anything to see around here except Bryce Canyon and when we had seen that we would be leaving. I thought the ranger was going to crawl over the counter. He looked at me and said “Don’t let him drive!” I smiled. The ranger pulled out maps and brochures and convinced my skeptical and probably overwhelmed and tired husband that there indeed was more than one canyon, in fact vast expanses of incredible canyons and vistas that you could spend weeks exploring. Dave got it and began to reconsider. The Red Canyon was so beautiful that I made Dave promise that on our return trip we would stop to walk some of the trails there.
The drive from Red Canyon to Bryce Canyon surprised me. When we left the Red Canyon and approached Bryce I had expected to be visually assaulted with hoodoos and red-orange sandstone cliffs. Instead we drove through miles of piney woods that looked nothing like the photographs I had seen or the Red Canyon that we left behind. The Bryce Canyon Visitor’s Center was our first stop to get the lay of the land. We tried to stay awake as we saw an informative movie about the geology and history of Bryce. From what I can remember, Bryce’s orange, gold and pink pinnacles of stone (hoodoos) are formed by water, erosion and the 200 days a year of freezing and thawing. The canyon and its hoodoos rise above the pine-covered Paunsaugunt Plateau, visible for hundreds of miles. The steep slopes of the canyon provide optimal conditions for water to rush through the plateau. Over centuries, gullies widened into canyons and fins became exposed to more erosion at their vertical cracks. As freezing water expanded within the cracks, it peeled off layers and carved out the enchanting vertical hoodoos. This century old process is still going on today creating and destroying more of the canyons spectacular architecture.
It wasn’t until we drove several miles into the park and turned left onto a road marked Sunrise Point, then drove another half mile or so through more pines and meadows that finally the vast expanse of red-orange hoodoos and deep canyons opened for miles before our eyes. We were both pretty tired and hungry by this time but a ranger had told us that we really should see Bryce Point in the evening where we would get wonderful sunset views of the canyon and we would stand a good chance of seeing some wildlife. We both decided to give it a try in spite of our exhaustion. As tired as I was, once I walked out to the edge of the cliff my energy returned. I was desperately trying to capture what I could of this vast pink and red landscape that lay before me before I lost the light. So engrossed I was in the view and my mission that it wasn’t until close to half an hour later that I discovered that Dave was not with me. He had stayed in the car, too tired to even climb out to see the view. By this time I was wiped out and hungry and felt badly that Dave was alone so I walked back down to the car.
Bryce Canyon boasts some of the darkest and most spectacular night skies in the country. We did view some spectacular night skies at Zion and the south rim of the Grand Canyon but there was still quite a bit of light pollution considering how remote these areas are; at the north rim it was too windy and cold to go out to view their night sky and since it was close to the summer equinox we would have had to stay up quite late to view the sky in the cold night. Every Wednesday and Friday night, rangers at Bryce lead an hour long “tour of the skies” with some pretty impressive telescopes. We both wanted so badly to participate in this program but we were exhausted and decided it was just too much; instead, we drove to the Mormon run Foster’s Motel and Restaurant for dinner after which we retired to our room and promptly went to sleep.
Saturday, June 14. After a good night’s sleep and breakfast we headed out to explore as much of Bryce as we could in a day. We drove to Sunrise Point and Bryce Lodge to confirm our trail ride later in the day, then drove back up to Bryce Point and Inspiration Point, where we had been the night before where we learned that the temperature went down to 29 degrees last night. Good thing we didn’t camp.
With renewed energy we walked the “moderately difficult” rim trail that edged the canyon. At times I experienced vertigo as I pointed my camera miles down the canyon to the floor below. The walk took a few hours and I ran out of water before I got to the end. Dave wanted a more aerobic walk than my stop and go bursts of photo enthusiasm so he went on ahead to pick up the Canyon Bus and bring the car to the end of my walk. I was high on the rim, about 8,000 feet above sea level, and could see hikers about 1,000 feet below me. We were scheduled for a trail ride that would take us down some of these trails to that floor below and it gave me pause to see the terrain we would travel on.
I got to the end of the trail before Dave got back with the car and had time to see some riders coming up from the bottom of the canyon. They were still in one piece and seemed pretty happy so I was still game. When Dave picked me up we went straight to the Lodge, made a “quick lunch” of a banana, a blueberry muffin and a snickers bar for energy, then drank as much water as we felt would last us for the next few hours and walked to the horse stables. We were told not to bring water bottles with us because if someone dropped their bottle it could spook the horses and that could be very dangerous on these narrow trails. No problem, we’ll drink when we get back.
Bill was our trail guide and had a wonderful demeanor and quick wit. He was also very informative along the 2 hour trail ride into the canyon. We started out at 8,000 feet and headed down the canyon through narrow sometimes quite steep sandy paths, where Tanya, my mule, tended to stumble a bit, on our journey to the canyon floor 1,000 feet below. Bill showed us some ponderosa pine that were hit by lightening and burned to a crisp. He told us that it was not so much the height of the trees that attract the lightening, but the fact that there is so much iron in the soil. The trees absorb the iron and become lightening magnets. Most of the trees survive a strike but if there is too much debris on the forest floor, it will all catch fire and continue to burn, killing the tree and everything around. Normal lightening strikes will take care of the accumulation of forest deadwood but when we suppress fires, (as we know in Florida, California and elsewhere) and then lightening does occur, it can get out of control quickly, which is why rangers throughout the country attempt to create “controlled” burns to replicate nature in clearing the tinder. Usually it works. Sometimes it doesn’t.
The hoodoos that had loomed large when we were looking at them from above seemed to take on a mystical presence as we descended the trail and came face to face with them. I can see why the Paiutes thought that the hoodoos were people that the angry gods turned to stone. So much of the canyon is fanciful and magical. I can understand why people have so many stories about these ghostly shapes.
Dave’s horse Jenee wanted to feast on any vegetation that presented itself to her along the way and Dave had all he could do to keep her on the trail. I was surprised that I sat in the saddle so well and wasn’t sore at all. I can’t say the same for Dave as he shifted about in the saddle, but I think he did quite well considering it was only his third time on a horse. I absorbed every aspect of the journey into my pores: the smells of the horses, the crunch of their hooves on the gravelly paths, the creak of the saddles, the feeling of this great body beneath me, my feet in the stirrups, my knees pressing into the girth of the mule, my body wheeling around with the camera at every opportunity…the views were extraordinary and I wasn’t about to leave it all to memory. I would love to ride again soon and will if given the opportunity, no matter the warnings of my doctors! Life is too short to worry about what might happen. I will say there were a few moments that gave me pause when Tanya was snorting and whirling her head about trying to shoo away some bees around her face and ears but she succeeded in getting rid of them and the rest of the ride was uneventful.
When the trail ride was over it was late afternoon so we walked to the lodge to straighten our legs and rest on the veranda with a drink. We then drove the 18 mile road to the end of Bryce Canyon to explore the remaining vistas that we had not yet seen. We returned as it was getting dusk and saw more mule deer and prong horn antelopes and then returned to Fosters for dinner and bed.
Sunday, June 15, FATHER’S DAY. I got off on a rather bad start on his special day. I had a card and some gifts for Dave but I hadn’t had time to sign the card or pull the presents together, so I sent Dave to the restaurant ahead of me to order coffee and settle in, buying myself some badly needed private time. Being A.D.D. is not easy on a partner. I got a little side-tracked downloading my pictures and a very grumpy Dave, who had patiently waited for me for breakfast, was growling for me to come and join him. All things smoothed out as soon as he was fed and had his morning caffeine.
Since this was to be His Day, I let him set the agenda. We decided to start with a nature walk at the Mossy Cave Trail at the northeast end of Bryce. A ranger guided us up to the only natural river in the park letting us “smell” the ponderosa’s vanilla (or honey depending on your personal olfactory senses) scented sap. Fifty percent of the ponderosa trees grow straight, the other fifty percent twist in a distinctive spiral as they grow. The bristle-cone pines are hardy trees; older than the sequoia, they are the oldest living tree on earth. We were also informed that the aspen has the oldest and most massive root system.
We drove north towards the Grande Staircase-Escalante National Monument stopping at the visitor’s center in Cannonville where I saw the following quote:
“Civilization exists by geological consent, subject to change without notice.” Will Durant. Perfect.
The sign announcing the entrance to the Grande Staircase-Escalante National Monument (GSENM) was in a wide open valley that reminded me of the juniper and pinion dotted plains of northern Arizona; with no signs of human life for miles around the sign itself was splattered by a shotgun. The only other sign of human life other than the random car traffic was another sign that said: Desert Doctor - Motorcycle Repair”. It was hard to imagine still more types of rock formations but on the winding, scenic route 12 through the GSENM up to Boulder we encountered broad expanses of chocolate brown siltstones, red to reddish-orange sandstones, white, pink, and brown Navajo Sandstone, gray to black mudstone, coal, shale and sandstone, pink and red Claron Formation limestone and finally the stratified rock formations, basalt or volcanic mountain forms, limestone towers and snow-capped grey mountains in the distance. The GSENM spans five different life zones from the high desert to coniferous forests. From one peak on a clear day such as we were lucky to have, you could see for over 100 miles. Each time I see a new western landscape I am forced to struggle with new adjectives to adequately describe that magnificent view and I fear I am falling far short of my goal. I hope I am better able to photograph this landscape than to do justice with words.
Our first view of the small farming town of Boulder was from high atop a winding mountain pass. Looking down across the fields far below we saw Boulder nestled between the canyons in the valley. When I got out to photograph the town from a precarious ledge, down at my feet were cow plops. Or maybe they were just large goat droppings. How do the cows get around in these mountainous regions? We saw cow crossings in the most unlikely places throughout the west. We drove through Boulder and on to the paved portion of the unique Burr Trail Scenic Backway, both a hard surfaced and graded gravel road that leads 66 miles from Boulder to Lake Powell. Along the Burr Trail we came across light colored Navajo sandstone mountains dotted with black “balls”. These mountains are hosts to concretions of haematite, nicknamed “blueberries”, that are either imbedded in the sandstone or have popped out and rolled down the slick rock sides of these Jurassic sand dunes to rest on the sides of the hills. The blueberries’ diameters range from millimeters to centimeters and can be either rough or shiny depending on their trip down the mountain. The Hopi Indians have a legend that spirits of their ancestors or “moqui”, played marbles with the haematite concretions. Although it is thought that using the term “moqui” may be disrespectful, New Age gem collectors sell these “moqui marbles” as powerful metaphysical rocks. The tops of many of these mountains had little hoodoo looking features that looked out of place on the boulder like land forms. We drove several miles on the paved portion of the Burr Trail before turning around to have lunch at the Boulder Mesa Restaurant on edge of the Burr Trail. There were several hummingbird feeders on the porch of the restaurant. We watched multiple black chinned hummingbirds feeding from their “restaurant” as we sat at our window table enjoying enormous sandwiches and the unique view.

As we drove back to Bryce from Escalante we saw huge plumes of smoke but because of the frequent switch backs we were confused as to where the smoke was coming from. It was around 4pm when we got close enough to Bryce to see that the fire was very near the park in fact even though the winds were blowing the smoke away from the park there was enough smoke in the air to sting the eyes. The fire was still burning when I took our dirty clothes to a Laundromat where rumors abounded about the fire. I was told that it was not a control burn but instead the fire was caused by a careless camper about 6 miles from Bryce. At this point the fire had burned 250 acres. Fire trucks and airplanes were attempting to put out the fire while strong winds continued to make their job more difficult. If those winds shifted there was every possibility that the fire could rage through Bryce Canyon National Park.
Windmills make noise. I know this because there are three next to our room at Foster’s Motel. It was an interesting phenomenon to me to see some of the windmills spinning at rapid speed while others nearby were still. We were told that the winds swirl here and it is not unusual to have this happen. I can imagine this makes fire fighting especially difficult.
Monday, June 16. Dave was smiling, patient and in a jolly mood this morning before his coffee! He had even agreed to go ahead without me for his coffee and breakfast while I finished packing, writing and doing the online research for the next leg of our trip. Progress. Both of us seemed to be breathing better this morning, which may account for the better mood. The disastrous headaches of yesterday are a dim memory. Dave and I have suffered from sneezing, stuffy noses and at times, horrible sinus headaches ever since we left Florida. I can’t believe we are allergic to so many states. There must be a lot in bloom that is foreign to our delicate noses (Cedar in Texas, Cottonwood in Arizona, sage and pine in Utah for instance). In addition to suffering from allergies, I have found that my nails are splitting as well as my hair. The dry climate is making us flake away.
After breakfast I asked Mr. Foster, the motel and restaurant owner, if he knew anything about the fire we had seen the day before. He told me that it was not started by a camper as rumor had it, but instead the fire was caused by a truck that was trailing horses over the mountains in Escalante. He knows this because the man whose truck caught on fire was a friend of the restaurant owner’s daughter. Apparently this man barely escaped with his life and was able to get the horses clear before the truck blew up. Although the winds have died down and there is no more smoke visible this morning, Mr. Foster was told that the fire doubled in size overnight.
Red Rock Canyon is south of Bryce on route 12 just before the junction of 89. It is a small area that hits you like a big red surprise as you drive towards Bryce. There are two small tunnels carved out of the red rock that brings you into this canyon country and prepares you for the fairyland of rocks and hoodoos that awaits. We had blown by this gorgeous place on our way to check into Foster’s Motel to see a bit of Bryce while there was still some light, but I had made Dave promise to stop here on our way back to Kanab and Page. We hiked two trails in the park run by the US Forestry, climbing up to the top of the hoodoos, walking narrow rim trails and avoiding rattlesnakes. The views were fantastic and I had a hard time leaving the beautiful rocks on the hills. The wind was fierce again today. Right after Dave took my picture my hat blew off and went sailing down the ravine. My hero ran after my hat, sliding along on the steep banks through loose stones and twigs until he made it to the canyon floor, hat in hand. What a guy. The trail ended near the main road so we crossed over and walked along a beautiful bike trail lined with artemisias and blue flax. Fallen, bleached and twisted trunks of the ponderosa pines lay in the ravines of this canyon. Lichen covered layers of basalt (lava) urging the decaying process in the canyon. The red rocks of the canyon and dark green junipers and pinions framed the vista and made it every bit as beautiful as anything we had seen at Zion or Bryce. I think that too often these little parks are overlooked by people heading to “The Big Ones” like the Grand Canyon, Zion, Bryce, Capitol Reef or Arches. There are so many wonderful lesser known (= quieter) places to see like Red Canyon or Cedar Breaks but these places are not often on the tourist stops. Probably just as well.
The Coral Pink Sand Dunes State Park outside of Kanab is another example of a small, lesser known destination living in the shadow of its more famous park relatives. I had to convince Dave to take a risk on this park since I had not done any research on it but instead went with my gut. My intuition paid off, for me at least. I was amazed at the bright color of the sand and the vastness of the landscape. Dave however was color blind, or at least color challenged. Sometimes I have trouble pointing out the seemingly obvious to him. This was just another example since he still claims that it was just dirt and unremarkable in its color. He didn’t have to like it, but I had hoped he could just recognize its unique color. Maybe it is because he had golf on the brain and was fixed on yet another destination. This time it was Kanab.
We arrived in Kanab close to 5pm and Dave was restless until we found a room. We stopped at the visitor’s center again to get suggestions but the motel that was recommended was really sketchy so I began calling around until I hit the jackpot. I found the Treasure Trail Motel that was not only cheaper than the dump we were directed to, but had a bonus of a free round of 9 holes of golf at the beautiful course where Dave wanted to play. In addition we had local discounts on gas and food. We unpacked and went to a family owned Mexican restaurant called Escobar’s that on first glance looked and smelled pretty good. It was packed with locals which is usually a good sign but Dave’s enchiladas were fair to poor, the rice was probably minute rice and my fish tacos were pretty boring, at least they did not stand up to the two other outstanding fish tacos I had in New Mexico and Arizona.
Kanab is known as a western movie town with loads of movie memorabilia. Placards are located throughout the town depicting the various movies such as Sierra, (the movie we later saw), television shows like Wagon Train and various commercials made nearby. Some signs have photos of movie stars like Ronald Reagan that acted nearby and stayed in the renowned Parry Lodge. This same lodge showed free old movies every night in their old wooden theater-like barn behind their restaurant. The 1950 movie Sierra started at 8pm and starred Burl Ives as Lonesome, Tony Curtis as Brent Coulter and John Doucette as Jed Coulter. The only thing memorable about this film is that Burl Ives sang and played his guitar while riding his horse. I recognized a good deal of the Utah landscape in the picture and had to laugh at the dialogue and plot development. After an hour we both had had enough, especially since Dave couldn’t hear a thing, so we packed it in for the night.
Tuesday, June 17 we both woke up grumpy and our awful breakfast at Houston’s Trail’s End did not improve our moods. We had a surly waitress, brown-water coffee, sausage that tasted like a whole salt shaker was spilled on its greasy mass, a soft boiled egg that was hard boiled and even the raspberry jam was nasty. But it was Golf day so we had a chance to improve our moods. After our dismal breakfast Dave set out to play the beautiful Coral Cliffs Golf Course while it was still below 90 degrees. I spent more time photographing the landscape than watching or photographing Dave. This was probably not good for his mood either, especially since he kept complaining that he didn’t pack enough clubs to cover the distances.
It was lunch time when he finished playing and we had a long ride ahead into the desert where we would have no opportunity to stop for food or gas. Since we had such horrible luck with dinner and breakfast we decided to have lunch at a known entity: The Three Bears. This did improve our moods. We both had some wonderful homemade soup and sandwich combos but the best was that dark chocolate Bear Claw ice cream. Thoroughly sated, we started out for the Vermillion Cliffs and the hot desert ride to Buckskin Gulch Slot Canyon, the longest narrows in the world.
The first half hour on 89 east of Kanab was beautiful but soon the landscape became flatter and less interesting. By the time we arrived at the turn off from 89 to Buckskin Gulch it was nearing 1:30pm. It took us nearly an hour to negotiate the 8 mile washboard dirt road to the entrance to Wire Pass, a walking trail that leads through extremely hot desert sands for another 1 ½ to 2 miles before it junctions with the beginning of the Buckskin slots. It was well after 2pm when we started and approaching 100 degrees. There was no shade to be found and soon after we began the walk we were tired and feeling the heat. At that point I was tempted to turn around but we had driven so far and walked, what I thought then was half way that I was determined to push on for my first experience with slot canyons. Besides I was turning 60 the next day and I was damned if I was going to show my age!
It wasn’t long before Dave and I felt cotton-mouthed and then realized we had not brought enough water. We began to conserve what little water we had but we both began to feel stress from the heat. Rocks and sand collect and radiate back heat at an alarming rate. Walking through the long road to the slots gave me time to think about the challenges the Ancient Ones and the early settlers had in trying to eke out an existence in this extremely harsh environment. I was surprised again to see cow plops in this remote and hot area. There is no water and little food for them to graze on; I wondered are they walking beef jerky?
After what seemed an eternity, we reached the junction of Wire Pass and Buckskin Gulch Canyon and after another seemingly long walk through the hot, dry wash, we entered our first slot. It was quite windy (drying but also cooling) and I had my hat pulled down over my eyes to keep the sand from stinging them. In so doing, I missed some of the best petro glyphs in the area (or so I was later told) but the relief we felt from the shade in the slots renewed our strength to continue on. We had no intention of walking the 14 miles of slots that day but we (I) did want to see as much as I possibly could. The walls of the canyons were impressively tall and at times so close that Dave’s shoulders barely fit through. The ground was mostly loose sand but at times we struggled over stones and small boulders and at one point Dave had to help me descend (and on the return, climb back up) into the canyon floor at least 6 feet below. The sun was dropping lower and so it did not afford us the best light for photography yet the experience was quite awesome as we were dwarfed by these giant walls in the narrow passageways. It was about 10 degrees cooler inside the canyon as the breezes pushed through the tunneled canyon walls so our journey in the slots was actually quite pleasant.
After some time in the slots, our water was running dangerously low and it was getting late, so we decided to turn around. Dave, who was quite tired from golf in the morning and driving in the afternoon, waited to help me climb back up the highest rocky pass and then decided to walk ahead to the car, leaving me to take my time photographing a bit more before I left.
When I finally stepped out of the slots I was hit with a wall of heat. Even so, the walk back was beautiful and serene at first, but as I began to feel the heat radiating off the sand and rocks, with no shade for respite and little water, I began to feel dizzy and lightheaded. I also began to worry about the decision I had made. My mouth felt like cotton and I knew I had to reserve my water, so I took slow desperate sips to quench my thirst as best I could. Those few miles in the blazing sun were the longest miles I have ever walked in my life. The wind was hot and blowing sand in my face and rather than cooling me, I think it aided in dehydrating me. I was so intent on putting one foot in front of the other that I missed my turn to the car and headed down the road about ¼ mile further than I needed to go. That ¼ mile was a killer, or could have been. I could see Dave standing at the car talking to some hikers who preceded me and of course Dave asked if they had seen me. Since I was well ahead of them they said they had not seen me and Dave began to be worried. I was in view of them all yet I did not have the energy to yell, and even if I did they couldn’t hear me for the wind.
It was 6:10pm and 103 degrees when I made it to the car. I sat down and greedily drank the cold water Dave had for me. My face was beet red, my mouth tasted of cotton and I was slightly nauseous. I had heat exhaustion but I made it. It was paparazzi Kelley this time who earned the mantle Destination Kelley. I was on a mission to see those slots come hell or high water. Thankfully neither occurred.
Dave drove out of Buckskin, back up to 89 and headed east to Page, AZ. I called ahead for a room and found everything was booked well in advance but we found one last room at the Page Boy Motel where we quickly got into our bathing suits and headed for the pool. By this time the sun was setting and that wind was quite cool which would have been nice had the pool not been so cold and our body temperatures still on tilt. We gave up the pool idea and headed for a fast food joint to give us the energy to get to bed.
Wednesday, June 18, my 60th birthday! After a quick breakfast Dave and I moved over to the Best Western next door with a nice pool and Jacuzzi and the promise of a free hot breakfast. We then drove to the nearby Glen Canyon Dam for a tour. The dam began construction in 1956, was completed in 1959 and took 17 years to fill the new Lake Powell. It is located on the Colorado River and provides water storage for seven states but at this time the reservoir is only 58%!f(MISSING)ull despite the fact that there was a tremendous amount of spring runoff from the large snow accumulation in the mountains this past winter. Dave was fascinated with the engineering and design of the dam. We took an elevator 528 feet down into the dam and as we were leaving the elevator we were asked to look up the 56 floors through its walls. There were several people who nearly had a panic attack.
We left the dam and with a picnic lunch, headed down to Lake Powell for a 2 ½ hour cruise of Navajo Tapestry Canyon, Antelope Canyon and the Glen Canyon Dam. The lake is an incredibly deep blue when viewing it from above but when you are at its level it appears green. No matter where you view the lake from it is uniquely beautiful against the canyon walls. The brown Navajo Sandstone is the first layer of the canyon wall and marks the land that the Navajo own. Beneath the brown layer is the white sandstone that descends to the water’s edge. This is often referred to as the “bathtub ring” since it surrounds the entire lake. Late in the afternoon I had my own special birthday mooning by the Navajos as our ship passed by some boaters along the canyon wall. The last time we were mooned was on our honeymoon trip on the Yangtze River.
We returned from our peaceful day on the lake in time to make reservations for dinner at the Lake Powell Resort which featured windows with a 180 degree view of the lake and canyons. The moon was full and just rising when we were finishing our dinner (I had wild haddock and Dave had wild salmon and we shared a delicious prickly pear cactus crème brulee) then drove back into Page with the moon lighting the lake and the canyon.
My friend Huel sent me the following information in an email in recognition of my special birthday day:

The Buddha's birth and Enlightenment and passing away (parinirvana) are celebrated throughout the Buddhist world on the full-moon day of the fifth month. In the Tibetan tradition the whole of the fifth month of their lunar calendar is called Sagadawa and the whole month is considered sacred so that any practice we do in that time, especially during the rising moon culminating on the full moon is considered to be particularly powerful. This year the Sagadawa full-moon falls on June 18th. In the Awakened Heart Sangha we renew our Refuge and Bodhisattva vows together as near as we can to Sagadawa. This is a time for strengthening our connection with the Buddha, Dharma and Sangha by making the most generous and beautiful offerings that we can in their honour, expressing our love and gratitude for their generous and liberating teachings. It is a time to make strong pranidhanas (wishing prayers) for the teachings to flourish and spread throughout the world for the happiness of all beings now and in all future lives.
I felt honoured to be sharing my special day with the Buddha!

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Photos

Trail ride in Bryce to the Canyon Floor
I am on my mule Tanya while Dave follows behind on Jenee in one of the rare moments Jenee wasn't foraging trailside

Moqui Marbles along the Burr Trail near Boulder, UT
These legendary hematite concretions are nicknamed blueberries

FIRE! Near Bryce Canyon
Coming back to Bryce from Boulder and Escalante we saw (and smelled) this enormous fire that threatened Bryce Canyon

Hiking into the Coral Pink Sand Dunes
This is actually the color of these dunes in the afternoon light