My family has been going to the Utah Shakespeare Festival off and on for decades. In the summer of 2023, my clan made this outing work again over a long weekend. Family members came and went at an almost comical frequency, and Jason and I were the constants who stayed through their arrivals and departures. From transformative phrasing to transformative proliferation, the two of us relished the unrelated opportunities of the unique surroundings. Here’s a little taste of our relish and spread.

The first group of family who joined us in Cedar City was a sister and two nieces. With them we shared A Midsummer Night’s Dream and pizza. That play is a favorite of mine as it is silly, witty, and full of jackasses.

The next morning, as family members were traveling back and forth, Jason and I headed to the Kolob Canyons portion of Zion National Park. Zion was the third most visited national park in the U.S. in 2023. However, its Kolob Canyons district, located separately in the northwest corner of the park, sees far less tourists. Kolob is home to a number of box canyons, gorges with only one entrance/exit and walls 2,000 feet high. We journeyed down one of these on the Middle Fork of Taylor Creek Trail.

Taylor Creek is likely the most popular hike in Kolob Canyons. We saw a fair number of people as we headed up but had the alcove and the return route entirely to ourselves. What alcove? Double Arch Alcove is the primary draw for the Taylor Creek Trail. Double Arch Alcove, despite its name, contains no visible arches. Instead, there you will encounter a dramatic grotto with sandstone shelves stacked in towering layers and covered in thick moss. Not only is the scenery captivating, but the moisture and shade create mild temperatures and a melodic stereo of drips, which enrapture other senses.

Double Arch Alcove is this hike’s endpoint for most people, but we decided to investigate what secrets the canyon beyond might possess. We were rewarded with a waterfall about half a mile upstream in a circular chamber carved by water. As scaling this feature was impossible without gear, it marked the end of our upstream travel.

Although we started hiking around 12:30 and finished up at 4:30, catching much of the August afternoon’s heat, we got sweaty but not sickly. That was thanks to temperature highs that were uncommonly low, just in the mid-80s, a nice treat for Southern Utah in its most searing time of year.

If you are familiar with the Taylor Creek Trail, you may be wondering why it took us four hours to finish about 5.8 miles, especially with an online completion estimate of two hours. Some of the blame for our dillydallying lies in man not nature. This path passes two small historic buildings constructed in the 1930s, the Larson and Fife Cabins. These structures were once owned by Southern Utah State College (now Southern Utah University). Professors used them while grazing sheep or goats in the area before it was a national park. Of course, we had to stop for a closer look not just graze by.

A little dehydrated but otherwise in good shape, we met up with a mostly different group of family that night for Romeo and Juliet. You always hope the ending of that play changes, but it never does.

The next morning, we went to the Festival City Farmers Market. Although this bazaar is tiny compared to Salt Lake City’s, it was still fun to scan and purchase some local wares and grub. Afterward, we held a picnic in a park we often utilized when we came down to Cedar City as youngsters. Then, it was off to Jane Austen’s Emma the Musical. This performance included both beguiling tunes and Mr. Knightley. Need I say more? Macarons and bookshops followed. Then, The Play That Goes Wrong. The Play That Goes Wrong is hilarious and extremely British. It was first performed in London starting in 2012 and has been running there ever since. It’s a whodunit play within a play. Spoiler alert: everything goes wrong.

That was the end of our shows but not the end of our adventures. Jason and I have wanted to see the Pando for a few years, so we decided to make that happen on our return drive. The what, you ask? The Mando? The panda? Pando, the world’s biggest and densest living organism, is comprised of a single quaking aspen’s clones- 40,000 of them. It is spread over more than 100 acres and weighs 6,000 tons. Any gym rat knows that bulking up takes time, and such is the case with Pando. Its age is estimated between 3,000 and 14,000 years making it one of the oldest, if not the oldest, organisms on the planet. Where can you find this dendrophiles’ delight? It is located near the shores of Fish Lake about 45 minutes from both Richfield and Torrey. Acquiring outstanding views of Pando, however, takes a little more effort than just getting to the lake. It can be hard to differentiate Pando from the other aspens around it. Here are the deets on how we remedied that.

We parked our cars on the lake’s south side at Sewer Lagoon Road, just a bit off the main highway (UT-25). Then, we walked down the road about a quarter of a mile to an access point for the Lakeshore National Recreation Trail, which goes around the entire perimeter of the lake. Cars with enough clearance can just drive to this trail access, but one car in our group was too low.

We took the Lakeshore National Recreation Trail to the Rim Overlook, which has a posted sign. Then, we continued for a quarter mile past a gate at the top of the hill until we hit a rock outcropping on the left side of the path (west) with a fantastic prospect of Pando and Fish Lake. If you are looking out from that viewpoint, where can you see Pando? It will be to the southwest with its northeast corner at the campground, just west of the group sites.

This vista was better than others we passed on the way. Though the route was longer than what we found outlined online, the 6.2 miles RT were worth it. The scenery was a beautiful mix of forest, shoreline, and wetland, and we saw no one while hiking. Despite its lack of traffic, the path was well maintained. Overall, I was impressed with Fish Lake, and I’d happily come back. FYI, the trail is mostly flat for about a mile and a half and then heads up a series of switchbacks. My mother, who is in her 70s, made it a mile out without any problems.

Our oversized weekend flew by with a few chaotic moments as family members arrived and left. However, it was less hectic than other years since group numbers were low at any given time. Jason and I didn’t let chaos or cultural masterpieces impede us from appreciating natural wonders. From monologues to monoclones, the outing was anything but monotonous.