July 20-August 20, 2008 - We had arrived in the lower elevations of
Kanab, UT, during a peak week of monsoon activity. Monsoons are a
southwest phenomenon that give the deserts much needed moisture
and relief from the heat in mid-summer. I had learned about them living
in Arizona, but had never known
that they could spread their
salve as far north as southern
Utah and even over into
southern Colorado. It is magic
to watch the sky cloud over
promptly at noon every day, and
there is a lusciousness to being
drenched by brief downpours
every afternoon. These storms leave the air crisp and clear, and they keep the ferocious
heat to a minimum. Once the monsoons abated, we found ourselves in an oven, baking
by noon, and burnt to a crisp by evening. Full of energy at the break of day, we were
lethargic sloths by nightfall. It
was time to get back to the
higher elevations. We left
Kanab for Ruby's Inn, a
settlement just outside of Bryce
Canyon National Park at 7,500
feet.
Bryce Canyon is a wonderland
of pink and white spires, laid out with amazing symmetry. The open
bowl of crystalline formations carved from the surrounding flat plains
resembles an ampitheater. The man who first ranched the area
around Rubys
Inn in the 1800's
had no idea the canyon was just
beyond his land. Imagine the look
on his face when, at the suggestion
of a knowledgeable neighbor, he
took his family on an excursion to
the rim! It is a place that evokes
smiles in everyone, and as we rode
the shuttle bus to the view points
and walked the many trails that
lead along the edge and down into
the canyon, I was struck by how
happy everyone was. Children love
this place.
We walked along the Rim, from Bryce Point to
Inspiration Point, and watched a fantastic summer
thunderstorm creep over the valley until we had to
run for cover ourselves. This land was carved by
a divine hand using the tools of wind and rain to
erode the rock into fantastic formations. I was
awed by the regularity of the carvings. Rows upon
rows of spires stand in perfect
military formation.
At the top the trees cling to the
rim for dear life, their roots
clawing at the crumbling gravel
as their branches wave
ominously in the breeze,
threatening to rip the trees from
the edge. At the bottom the
trees pierce the air above them,
the dark green spikes
contrasting with the orange and
white striped spears of rock.
We hiked down into the canyon to
the Queen's Garden. As you
descend on this hike the land
becomes otherworldly. Between
the spires, the land forms smooth,
rounded slopes and the trees are
short and twisted. The noise of
the tourists at the rim fades away
behind you and the solitude and
odd surroundings seem like a
moonscape. The emotional
anchor of the ordinary looking
grassy fields and ranches that
surround Bryce Canyon disappear
from view, and you find yourself on the moon, or
mars, looking up at the red rock spires, repeating
the mantra: "wow."
The gravel path winds in and out of the spires,
abandoning one spectacular sight as it takes a
sharp turn around a bend
towards another. We walked
through several doorways and
tunnels, emerging from each to
find ourselves staring at yet
another splendid work of art by
Nature. People linger on these
trails. Llittle groups and pairs line
themselves up for photos, posing
all over this spectacular setting.
Cameras are handed around
trustingly between strangers in
order to get everyone in each
group into the pictures. "I'll take
one for you if you'll take one for
me," is the phrase of the day,
sometimes said in broken English,
and often accompanied with
gestures and sign language.
Cameras are all shapes and
sizes. "Just press the button."
Lots of nodding and pointing.
Everyone is grinning. None of us
can wait to show these pictures to
our friends back home. All the
photos turn out great.
At the very bottom we came to a
plaque that showed us Queen
Victoria. This was the Queen's Garden. She is at the tippy top of a spire. She looks very
regal, and very wee. In time she will erode away
and be replaced by other shapes. Looking around
at the other hoodoo rock formations, we made out a
medieval friar and a great horned owl to accompany
the queen.
We had descended about a
thousand feet and had to climb
back up again to the rim. We
chose the route that goes
through Wall Street, where the
red rock walls close around you
like skyscrapers but much closer.
A switch back trail takes you up
until you look way down on the
tiny pine trees at the base. Then
you climb higher til the people
seem mere specks. Your heart
pounds from the exertion of
climbing straight up, and when
you reach the top the view takes
your breath away yet again.
We wandered
along the rim
and met a little
girl holding a
camera that
was as big as
she was. What
a smile she
had as that
camera clicked
away.
The Bryce
Canyon Lodge
is the oldest
original National Park lodge still standing; the others at Yellowstone,
Grand Canyon and the rest all succombed to fire at one time or another
and were rebuilt. Bryce isn't immune to wildfires, however, and there
were many "prescribed burns" in action while we were there as the
Park Service attempted to keep the woods thinned so they wouldn't be
prone to future fires.
We spent a few days riding our
bikes and hiking in the areas
away from Bryce Canyon and
then returned to do the Peek-a-
boo hike. We were both
surprised at how the grins came
back to our faces and the "wow"
formed on our lips again as
soon as we walked up to the
rim. What a place.
We had no idea why the Peek-
a-boo hike has its name, and
we descended into the canyon
away from the crowds
wondering what laid ahead.
Once again, as we walked down
into the canyon, we felt an
almost physical sensation cloak
our bodies as the immense
quiet and peace of this place enveloped us.
Suddenly, we looked up at a wall of spires and saw one hole, and then
another. "So that's why it's called Peek-a-boo!" Mark said, mugging for
the camera. We walked with our heads up and our eyes on the peaks,
tripping occasionally. But you can't look down on this hike, even as you
stumble.
The trail twisted and turned and double-backed on itself between
formations. I felt like a rat in a maze, or a child stomping around on
an enormous chess board.
We did a lot of climbing on this hike, more than seemed physically
possible for a loop hike. Mark walked faster than I did (he didn't bring
his camera and mine kept slowing me down!), and I turned a corner
and looked up to see him happily surveying the view from an ideal
vantage point. Once I caught up to him we sat together for a moment.
When we turned to continue on, we were facing a little doorway. As we
passed through the door to the glittering view on the other side, I felt
like Dorothy as she steps out of her Kansas house into the colorful Land
of OZ.
After a few weeks at our "ranch house" outside of Bryce Canyon, among
the cattle, ponderosa pines and pronghorn, overlooking grazing lands that
stretched to the horizon, we felt like it was home. Our TV got great NBC
reception, so we stayed to watch most of the Beijing Olympics. It was
very hard to tear ourselves away, but eventually the day came, and once
we hit the road, the excitement of discovering new places propelled us
forward and made us eager to leave. We bumped into the sweet village
of Alton and gradually made our way over the mountains to Parowan
and Cedar City.