Posts about deserts aren’t usually brimming with water, but this one is so soaked I had to look up synonyms for rain before writing it. Those substitutes include shower, torrent, flood, deluge, drizzle, downpour, stream, and barrage. Since the following paragraphs are flooded, I will try to use that overflow of synonyms as frequently as appropriate so you don’t have to read through rain in every other sentence. With that introduction, let the barrage commence.
Last June, we traveled to Capitol Reef National Park with Jason’s parents even though we’d visited the park just a month earlier. We left on this vacation thinking the weather would ruin our trip, frequent rain was forecasted. It did not impair experiences. Instead, it added a wet layer of wonder to our outing.
We made it to the park just in time to hike to Sunset Point (0.6 miles RT) and Panorama Point (0.1 miles RT- so barely getting out of the car) before dark. Clouds obscured the sun shortly after we arrived at Sunset Point, and the wind stayed busy. However, we’d been in a downpour our entire drive to Capitol Reef, so we were just happy that had halted. Don’t worry though, I promise this story won’t leave you high and dry.
A 70% chance of rain and temperatures reaching the mid-sixties were predicted for the following day. The highest probability of precipitation started at 10:00 AM and extended until about 6:00 in the evening- so basically all day. Thankfully, the forecast had shifted by the time we headed into the park for no showers to occur until 5:00 PM. The delay of the storm turned out to be more wish than reality; I can personally verify Capitol Reef got exceptionally damp about 2:30, but let’s not get ahead of ourselves.
The skies were sunnier than expected as we ate delicious pies at the Gifford Homestead and took the boardwalk parallel to Highway 24 to see the Fremont Culture petroglyphs along the cliff wall. Afterward, we had plans to hike to Hickman Bridge (1.75 miles RT), one of the most popular destinations in Capitol Reef. The trek turned out to be anything but standard that afternoon.
Just as we were about to leave our vehicle and head onto the trail, it started pouring. Not a mid pour but a robust pour. So, we jumped back into the car and waited until it downgraded to just regular rain. After about 10 minutes, ponchos in place, we finally headed up. As we reached the first plateau topped by the path, we were surprised to hear what sounded like a waterfall. Jason and I had never noticed a waterfall on our previous treks to Hickman Bridge, so it was a bit disorienting to hear one close by. (How could we have missed a waterfall before?) It turned out that we had correctly identified the noise despite its strange placement. A normally dry wash was flowing with an abundant stream of water. Where it fell from a high spout, a waterfall about 20 feet tall had been created. It was the first of many unusual scenes we would witness that day.
The weather gradually cleared, and by the time we got to Hickman Bridge, it was sunny enough for all jackets to be removed. However, as we started to descend, storm clouds rapidly encroached, and thunder began rumbling. Within a few minutes, we found ourselves again in the middle of a soaking. We watched a wash, which had completely dried from the previous outburst in the time it took for us to get to the bridge, begin to fill up once more. It never quite got to a flowing point, but water was flowing chaotically elsewhere around us. Most astonishingly, it started streaming down the towering cliffsides encircling us in gushing waterfalls, particularly Navajo Dome. It was magical! The weather wasn’t what we would have picked, but in some ways, it was even better. With our ponchos in place, we got to enjoy this spectacular show with minimum wetness. Other hikers we passed were not prepared and spent the deluge huddled under rocks.
The next day, we decided to undertake the Chimney Rock Loop (3.6 miles RT). The high was 60 and the rain drizzly during this trek. Unlike the day before, the precipitation stayed with us for two hours instead of just downpouring and departing. We didn’t see any flash flooding and only saw other groups at the beginning of the hike.
On a dry interlude, when in Torrey, the closest town to Capitol Reef, certain food obligations must be met. One must eat at Capitol Burger, Hunt & Gather, and Hell’s Backbone Grill. We hit all three. Capitol Burger is an unassuming food truck with uncommonly good reviews and uncommonly good burgers. To reach Hell’s Backbone Grill, one must travel an hour up Boulder Mountain, a tricky road to navigate thanks to the grazing cattle and prolific deer. The Jenchiladas and desert-rubbed cauliflower are completely worth it! At Hunt & Gather, a newer place located where Café Diablo used to be, we sat out on a covered patio and experienced a sudden onslaught of rain just as the sun was setting. Rain clinking against a tin roof ain’t a bad accompaniment to cast iron asparagus and Marsala tenderloin.
The showers finally dissipated the following day, the first day we didn’t get rained on during this trip or our trip to Colorado the week before. Temperatures were perfect, in the low 70s, but it still felt a little too warm on occasion when heat was coming off sundrenched rocks. We hiked the Fremont River Trail, which starts out as a river meander then climbs steadily up the side of a plateau to two viewpoints. Some trail guides show the path ending at the first overlook. Don’t believe them. The second vantage point is the better of the two with fantastic prospects of Fruita and the sandstone domes above it. Most websites list this trail’s length at just two miles RT, but going to the second viewpoint will make the journey more like 2.6.
After another Capitol Burger and the departure of Jason’s parents, Jason and I decided to hike through Capitol Gorge to The Tanks, which is a mile each way. Capitol Gorge is mostly just a mellow walk in a wide wash, but it does have a couple points of interest, namely a wall of petroglyphs (many of which have been damaged by nature or man) and the Pioneer Register. The Pioneer Register is a cliff that was used by explorers and settlers between 1871 and 1946 to inscribe names and dates as they passed by. This wall has been on the National Register of Historic Places since 1999. Like the petroglyphs, it too appeared to have been defaced by modern morons.
The Tanks, a series of water collecting bowls and our destination in Capitol Gorge, felt underwhelming at first glance. The largest of the three was completely dry even with the recent rain. However, as we were heading back, we discovered a more interesting grouping of tanks and a natural bridge, which had once been the wall of a tank, hidden lower down the same gully as the obvious three.
By way of advice, the gnats in Capitol Gorge are bad! If we stopped to take a picture, they swarmed us. We both got quite a few bites. Were they only present because of the recent precipitation, or are they permanent residents of the gorge? (I don’t remember dealing with them last time we were in Capitol Gorge.) Maybe bringing a head net would be a good idea on this hike.
Since I’m already giving advice, I might as well give one more piece regarding pies. The Gifford Homestead, a historic building inside the park, contains a pie shop. It goes through 20-30 dozen (240-360) pies every day. The pies are usually sold out by about 2:00 in the afternoon. On Saturdays, they are often gone before then. I am a pie snob, and these pies are worth the bother. So, if you are a crust connoisseur like me, I’d recommend hitting the Gifford Homestead by early afternoon to guarantee a flaky selection.
Rain is often considered the enemy of outdoor activities. Storms dash plans under their prolific drips. However, experiencing Capitol Reef’s wet side, a rarity, was captivating and unforgettable. It was good down to the last drop!