If a pilgrim were to drive the width of southern Utah from Nevada to Colorado, about a 6-hour journey on two-lane roads, he would rarely encounter a colorless stretch of terrain. Part of the trip, from Bryce Canyon to Escalante, might be along Utah’s Scenic Byway 12---which boosters like to call “A Journey Through Time”---a road which connects with the land, feels somehow a part of the landscape as it undulates for 122.863 glorious miles of pure driving bliss. Only one-third of this country’s Scenic Byways are designated All-American Roads, and this is one of them. The distinction is given because these ribbons of pavement offer unique features not found elsewhere, sometimes making these exotic strands tourist destinations unto themselves. At this point in your trip, you have a choice; you can opt for a slide down Byway 12 or just take a left at Page, Arizona and head for Bryce and the splendors of Zion National Park.
Hoodoo You Love
For many people, Bryce Canyon plays Robin to southern Utah’s Batman, the beautiful and imposing Zion National Park. But Robin has his own talents, and so does Bryce. Despite its name, Bryce is not a canyon at all but rather a collection of giant natural amphitheaters along the eastern side of the Paunsaugunt Plateau. It is distinctive due to geological structures called hoodoos, formed by frost weathering and stream erosion of the river and lake bed sedimentary rocks. The red, orange and white colors of the rocks provide spectacular views for park visitors, especially photographers who cluster at obscene hours to capture the first rays of the sun upon the hoodoos. Regrettably, Siobhan and Bill were once among this motley, undercaffeinated crew and managed to get only photos far inferior to the raft of local postcards. There oughta be a law.
The Bryce Canyon area was settled by ubiquitous Mormon pioneers in the 1850s and named after one Ebenezer Bryce, who homesteaded in the area in 1874. President Warren G. Harding thought it was spiffy enough to adopt and designated the area a national monument in 1923. Congress one-upped him and redesignated it a national park in 1928. The park covers 35,835 enticing acres, but draws fewer visitors than Zion due to its more remote location. Bryce pulled in 2,679,478 lookers in 2018. The notion that someone already at Zion would miss the wonders of Bryce, a mere 72 miles and 79 minutes away, makes us woozy.
If you visit Bryce, as you should, you will undoubtedly run across Ruby. She’s everywhere. When we went, Ruby had the solo hotel and post office, two non-fine dining restaurants, the only gas station, a campground, a recreational vehicle park and and a partridge in a prune tree. By now, she’s probably the mayor, new sheriff in town and czar of canyon waste control. In Summer, there was a nightly lite rodeo across the street from Ruby’s digs. The locals said Ruby didn’t own that but she’d probably be participating in the steer wrestling event.
The guided tram tour, a worthy investment, is a three-hour jaunt around the park, leaving you with everything you wanted to know about Bryce Canyon and probably more. If three hours seems like a lot, ask for ace conductor George "Spike" Brown and you won't be bored. Spike knows every inch of the place like the back of his callused hand. Spike will let you use his magnificent binoculars. Spike will point out exactly where his house is way out on the horizon. Spike will tell you that you can see a hundred miles on a clear day. Spike will relate astonishing tales, one or two of which might be true. The tour leaves, of course, from Ruby's every couple of hours. If you see Spike in there at the bar, don’t bother him while he’s drinking.
Hiking The Hoodoos
If you’re the type of hiker who likes scenic, well-marked trails which don’t leave you gasping in agony after the first two miles, Bryce Canyon is for you. The ground is firm, the grades are modest and if you fall off the sides the rangers will find you in less than a week. You might want to start with the Navajo Loop/Queen’s Garden Trail, a singular trip through forests of rock, tall skinny spires of gleaming stone. The hoodoos range in size from that of an average human being to heights exceeding those of ten-story buildings. Formed in sedimentary rock, hoodoo shapes are affected by the erosional patterns of hard and softer rock layers. The moniker given to the rock layer that forms hoodoos is The Claron Formation. The layer has several rock types including siltstones and mudstones but is primarily limestone. Thirty to forty million years ago, this rock was born in an ancient lake that covered much of western Utah. Minerals deposited within different rock types cause hoodoos to have different colors throughout their height. Even if you are the worst photographer east of the Mississippi, you get a chance to strut your stuff in this element. Point and shoot. Your audience will think you’re a genius and Ruby will pat you on the head.
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| Bill in the early going. |
Zion Canyon: A River Runs Through It
The Virgin River, in fact, the north fork of which marshals its forces on the nearby Chamberlain Ranch, gathers strength and depth, and promptly heads for the famous Zion Narrows. Those outdoorsy travel magazines love to make their lists and when they publish their favorite hikes which can be made in a day, The Narrows is always somewhere near the top of the list. This 16-mile adventure follows the course of the river from its beginnings at Mr. Chamberlain’s estate to the Temple of Sinawava in Zion National Park. Since the 1000-foot-high canyon walls are sometimes as close as 18 feet apart, this means you will be mostly in the river, traipsing from side to side to walk in the lowest depths and occasionally on a small sliver of land. The highest waters we encountered were slightly over waist-high, but more often somewhere between the knees and ankles. If you’ll check your slide rule, you will quickly see that this hike could take awhile. Sixteen miles is not for sissies on a smooth surface but sixteen miles of walking on slippery stones while rassling with the current can be a chore. Oh, and you’d better get to the finish line by seven, that’s when the last shuttle leaves for town.
You will need a little help to slog through the depths and make it to the Temple of Sinawava. First, water shoes with holes and neoprene socks. Second, a large walking stick to probe the river bottom before each risky step. Third, some type of nourishment…there will be no breakfast places open when you head for the van to the Chamberlain Ranch, so prior supplies must be laid up. Fourth, a weather update; flash floods caused by thunderstorms far from Zion can sweep through the canyon and wash you all the way to Northumberland. Check in with the Zion rangers. All ready? Okay, let’s go. May The Force be with us.
We Are Marching To Pretoria!
Only 80 people each day are allowed to traverse the Zion Narrows. Your van dislodges about ten of them at 6:30 a.m. on a dirt road leading to a cow pasture and then to the river. It’s a jolly bunch of pirates which departs in 65-degree temperatures on a perfect sunny day, stomping through the meadows, occasionally mooing with the bovine chorus.
Hopefully, hikers have made some sort of schedule to insure they are making adequate progress and will make it to the Temple before the bus leaves. Walking miles back to town after hiking 16 miles of bad road is no fun. At the first check point, Siobhan and I were an eye-popping 22 minutes ahead of schedule. Maybe we got overconfident and lollygagged through the deeper parts of the river, crossing over and back several times, seeking the lowest depths, but by the second check we were a discouraging 43 minutes behind. A similar loss of time over the final two-thirds of the hike would bring us back after dark and more important, after shuttle. We picked it up and made the next two time checks without further time loss.
Just when our prospects appeared rosy, Siobhan’s knee went out. Old tennis injury….happens from time to time. A little rest normally takes care of the problem and she’s good as new next day. But there would be no resting here, and no rescue, either. The Zion Narrows might be where they came up with the old expression, between a rock and a hard place. The river is too low and much too rocky for a boat to get through, and there are only two exits, at Chamberlain’s and the Temple of Sinawava. If you’re halfway between the two, as we were, take your pick. It was the Phantom Ranch all over again, but with a different victim. Listen, Siobhan, do you think you can swim in two feet of water?
At this point, the Cosmic Arranger, probably feeling sorry for the beleaguered couple, popped the knee back in place and relit the On Air sign. The river was deeper here but we were past the halfway point and could smell victory, albeit it still far in the distance. We battled on and finished the trek in 11 hours and 40 minutes, eventually passing all but one of our shuttlemates, a classic rabbit-and-the-hare scenario. We exited to greetings and applause from people entering the water from the opposite direction at the Temble of Sinawava. One guy said, “I’m amazed you guys could do it—we’re way younger and we’d never try 16 miles. How did you manage?”
I looked him in the eye, tugged on my hat, adjusted my pipe and said: “I’m strong to the finish ‘cause I eats me spinach, like Popeye the Sailor Man.”
Who Can Can Like Tuacahn?
It’s a short distance from Zion National Park to bustling St. George, Utah, our overnight stop on the way to the Vegas airport next day. Despite having some of the highest summer temperatures in the country, St. George is a fast-growing city, especially popular with tough retirees who don’t mind playing softball in 102-degree temperatures. Just outside St. George is a terrific outdoor amphitheater called Tuacahn. We went there that night to see Guys and Dolls under the stars, warming up for the play by getting restorative massages and a nice dinner. It’s still in the middle nineties at Tuacahn when the curtain goes up but they have clever spraying machines which keep the audience from turning into pudding. The crowd was large and enthusiastic, not to mention downright buoyant at intermission when they turned up the sprayers to “Giddy.”
Another year, another vacation. We’ve taken you to the Grand Canyon via Las Vegas and back again in a sprightly ten days, two weeks if you want linger, driving a broad oval through Williams, Sedona, Monument Valley and Antelope Canyon and up to Bryce and Zion. You had fun tuning up in Sedona’s vortexes, watching young Navajo bucks ride saddleless horses in Monument Valley and depleting your bank account at the Bellagio. Next year will be even better. Next year you can go in person.
That’s all, folks….
bill.killeen094@gmail.com
