Jason’s family typically does a camping excursion at least once every summer. We try to join them if it works out. When they took a trip to Strawberry Reservoir in late June, it did. Despite this being a camping outing, it did not actually entail any camping for Jason and me. However, it did involve playing Cards Against Humanity in fake British accents while an inviting fire warmed up backsides, hiking on unoccupied trails, and driving across scenic mountainsides in a UTV. So, I think we still deserve a tiny bit of outdoor cred.
Views delighted us on all sides as we bounced along.
First and foremost, let me address how this trip became camping in name only. While the rest of the group camped at Strawberry Reservoir, one of Utah’s most popular fishing spots, we had no desire to do any angling. Therefore, we opted to spend a couple nights at Daniels Summit Lodge instead. This lodge is only 15 minutes from Strawberry, which made it too convenient to ignore as a potential sleeping location.
Being lodgers instead of campers didn’t prevent us from visiting the group’s fire for a game of Cards Against Humanity, which we played on multiple tables to allow for social distancing. We incorporated phony accents into this already ludicrous game. Somehow, I won. Yup, my mind is as warped as a funhouse mirror.
The aspens were so dense in some places they practically formed an arboreal wall.
On one day of our stay, Jason and I rented a four-seat RZR. Different portions of Jason’s family took turns occupying our backseat. We did loops that took us from forest service roads to narrower rocky routes. What could be more macho than cruising ATV roads in a rugged RZR? How about moving a giant pine tree that fell across the path just minutes before you arrived? That’s right, my tiny biceps are bigger on the inside. Yeah, okay, so I helped marginally, and Jason did most of the heavy lifting. But hey, lifting logs is one of the few ways men can prove their usefulness.
The blasts that brought down that tree were relentless that entire afternoon. They blew between 20 and over 30 MPH for hours. They assaulted Daniels Summit with micro gusts above 80 MPH. That didn’t stop us from riding our UTV to the top of Strawberry Peak, an isolated summit with an elevation of 9,714 feet. With commanding views of the Wasatch Range from Mount Timpanogos all the way to Mount Nebo, this was one of the highlights of our drive.
Apparently, some RZR models can go up to 80 MPH. That doesn’t seem necessary in a world with so many rocks.
Not camping while on this camping trip proved wiser than Jason and I have the years to expect. Although it was nearly July, winter made a temporary comeback during our stay. At Daniels Summit, the temperatures plunged from the high 70s down to the low 30s. Having walls made out of something other than nylon proved quite advantageous.
If a little 80 MPH wind couldn’t impede us, neither could some nearly freezing temperatures. After things got chilly, we hiked both the Heber Valley Overlook and Donkey Ridge Trails in the Dutch Hollow portion of Wasatch Mountain State Park, which add up to about four miles. Thanks to the threat of rain and the unusual temperatures, we saw exactly two hikers and one biker during our whole afternoon spent on these popular trails. I’m not sure why the cooler weather scared away others; I’d take having to wear two jackets any day over wanting to peel back a layer of my skin to cool down.
The trail to the Heber Valley Overlook is usually quite congested. That was not so during our visit.
That is the complete story of our card playing, tree dragging, peak parking, trail riding, wind bracing, path climbing, dog days freezing, no-camping camping trip.
Jason and I were supposed to take a trip to the Caribbean with his parents in June. That didn’t happen… you may have heard of this COVID thing? Since our sanity was borderline after months of homebodyness, we opted to at least take a little break in Zion National Park and its surrounds. COVID had created a little chaos down there but had also disrupted Zion’s regular crowds. That worked for us. Frankly, we probably would have been happy going to the world’s most exotic toenail collection- heck, maybe even its least exotic one- as long as it got us out of the house for a few days.
I had to do that to take this. Was it worth it? Maybe we should ask Jason’s shoulders.
In keeping with the contemporary confusion, even prepping for this trip was slightly chaotic. After months of journeying nowhere, an abnormality for us, I kind of forgot what I usually pack and my packing process. It’s funny how quickly routines get erased. Good thing I have a packing list, or who knows what I would have missed- underwear, toothbrush, camera, deodorant… husband.
The path to Angels Landing has an elevation change of 1,500 feet. Yes, it’s noticeable.
Springdale, the gateway to Zion, is usually overrun with tourists in the summer. It only had a fraction of its normal throngs during our stay. It seemed a little uncanny to have the sun blasting there without the people blasting; the town felt half-awake. Don’t mistake my puzzlement for a complaint. You will get no grumbles from me on this.
You must traverse 21 abrupt switchbacks known as Walter’s Wiggles on the trek to Angels Landing.
Zion Canyon, where the majority of Zion’s attractions are located, has been closed to private vehicles for years due to congestion. Shuttles are typically the only way to access it during all but the winter months. However, the shuttles were not operating when we visited because of COVID. What did this mean? Vehicles were only allowed to enter the canyon until available parking filled up. Parking opened at 6:00 AM and filled up… oh, a few minutes later. Okay, maybe 43 minutes later on a lucky morning. We avoided this headache by only going into Zion Canyon later in the day. We hiked elsewhere in the park and outside the park the rest of the time and kept our heads comfortably on our pillows past 6:00 AM.
Refrigerator Canyon provides the only shade along route to Angels Landing.Although the chained part of Angels Landing was closed, Scout Lookout did not disappoint with its magnificent views of Zion Canyon’s unforgiving bluffs.
Our first evening in the area, we took the Kayenta Trail to the Upper Emerald Pool. We made it back just before it got dark and only saw a handful of people along the route. It was great to see nature instead of folks when visiting nature. We also heard nature. Canyon tree frogs serenaded us at the pool. They sound like goats, so that’s what we thought we were listening to. Also, the idea of the noises originating from a mountain lion was tossed around. Grrrr!
At Scout Lookout, cliffs abound.
The next morning, after enjoying an outdoor breakfast, we headed up the Watchman Trail, which leads to views of a stone pinnacle looming more than 2,000 feet above Springdale. This trail was hot, especially on our windless ascent. I asked myself many times, How did I get so much sweat there? Alas, the universe had no answers for me, but the vistas were fantastic.
Red Hollow was easy to navigate but still provided a touch of adventure with its narrow cavities and rippled rock.
Angels Landing is a Zion classic Jason and I hadn’t done in nearly 20 years. Another 20 would have been an inexcusable shame, so we opted to make that trail the focus of our evening. While the final chain section past Scout Lookout was closed due to COVID concerns, the rest was wide open. Apparently, the crowds on this trail alone can become a safety hazard in the middle of tourist season. We encountered a few groups but had most of the path to ourselves. As we passed through Refrigerator Canyon on our hike back, we came across a fluffy Mexican spotted owl, a threatened species that has found a home in Zion, making a contact call to its mama. Even in the near dark, that owlet was so cute this sentence needs a few exclamation marks!!!
This dubious rope kept most of us from reaching Red Hollow’s genesis, but it didn’t stop Jason.
Our last day in the area, we explored some lesser-known trails and interest points between Zion and Kanab. Red Hollow, a small slot canyon near Orderville, was our first stop. This hike is short and clambers through a portion of the canyon that is usually dry. While definitely a slot for beginners, the scrambling was still fun. Somewhere in the middle of the canyon, a dry fall with a flimsy rope halted the upward progress of everyone but Jason. As he is part monkey, he made it all the way to the end.
Red Hollow Canyon cuts beneath the colorful Elkhart Cliffs.
After getting some grub in Kanab, we headed to the Sand Caves. The Sand Caves, really one cave with multiple openings, are the remnants of a sand mining operation that briefly took place back in the 70s. This cavern is up on a cliffside but can be reached with some quick scaling. While the cave’s soft stone has unfortunately made it an easy target for graffiti, its swirling deposits are still enthralling.
The Sand Caves near Kanab weren’t made by nature but are picturesque and interesting nonetheless.
Our last stop of the day was Coral Pink Sand Dunes State Park. This park encompasses nearly 4,000 acres of sand hued by Navajo sandstone. While the ATVs on the dunes were a bit distracting at times, the terrain was beautiful. It looked like a giant flag of tangerine silk billowing in an undetectable breeze.
I’m not a fan of graffiti, but this grabbed my attention.
We left Springdale on a Friday morning just as the area was ramping up for the weekend. Since our visit, Zion National Park has resumed its shuttle services. I’m guessing that means Springdale and Zion are now humming along in a much more normal fashion, though some swarm reduction can probably still be achieved during the week. I’m glad we were able to visit this region in its more disorganized but less crammed state. What a lift this break was to our shut-in spirits!
The sand at Coral Pink Sand Dunes State Park is striking and soft.
On a side note, southern Utah is hot. Although it was only early June, Zion was already cooking. The first day of our trip had a pleasant high in the low 80s, but for the duration of our visit, 90 and up was the forecasters’ accurate prophecy. If you go to Zion anytime during the summer, expect to scorch. And on a final note, I want to extend a big thank you to the rangers who were directing confused sightseers all while wearing masks in the swelter. Under the circumstance, these stewards did a remarkable job.
Death Valley is the hottest and driest place in North
America and the biggest national park outside Alaska. Its reputation
notwithstanding, it offers much beyond cracked mud, cattle skulls, and
rattlesnakes. Death Valley holds both the lowest point in North America and terrain
over 11,000 feet. It also contains oodles of oddities like stones that move
themselves, ghost towns, and a salt pan spread over 200 square miles. Plus, the
blankness of its landscape allows for full appreciation of each colorful twist
and etch. For us, Death Valley was packed with countless surprises, some of them
galactic.
The great thing about taking pictures in a salt pan is that even Charlie Brown wearing a sheet would look tan.
Due to its remote location, reaching Death Valley requires some driving no matter which direction you are coming from. We decided to make this our first road trip with a new car. Unfortunately, the excitement of taking our fresh wheels was tempered by beeps. Our windshield wiper fluid became low somewhere between St. George and Las Vegas. Our car, in all its technological glory, reminded us of this near deficiency precisely every mile. We stopped in Vegas to mollify the Gods of Beep with an offering of washer fluid, but it took three stores to find this common item. What’s up Vegas? The rest of our drive was exquisitely beepless.
The famous polygons of Death Valley are formed by salt crystals expanding in the cracks of dried mud.The salt in Badwater Basin is mostly sodium chloride. It is spectacular when viewed as a single crystal or a collective.
Our first day in the park, we covered a tourist requirement by visiting Badwater Basin, the lowest point in North America at 282 feet below sea level. Many of our fellow visitors just popped out to get a picture by the sign and then hurried on to their next photo stop, missing the best of Badwater. With about half a mile of walking, the distinctive polygon-shaped salt patches that Death Valley is known for can be reached. These are definitely worth taking a couple thousand steps. Why so salty? Death Valley’s salt pan was covered by a lake that evaporated about 2,000 years ago leaving behind its minerals. More deposits have been added with each flash flood. Since Badwater Basin is below sea level, those compounds have nowhere to drain. Voila! A couple thousand years with a clogged pipe and you’ve got a salt crust up to five feet thick.
Densely packed spirals of spiny salt fill as far as the eye can see at the Devil’s Golf Course.
After North America’s low point, we visited Satan’s fairway.
The Devil’s Golf Course is a part of Badwater Basin that doesn’t flood because
it’s a few feet higher than the valley’s deepest point. It’s also rarely
touched by precipitation. That absence of water has allowed for the formation
of large halite crystals over time. These are sharp and unforgiving; I’ve never
encountered terrain so eager to stab. We managed to take a little stroll
amongst the jagged, pickled sculptures without any bloody bumps.
The devil’s in the details.
Just before sunset, we stopped at the Mesquite Flat Sand
Dunes, which is the park’s largest dune. There, you can hike miles along ridges
that rise up 150 feet, or you can roll away like R2-D2 did. That’s right,
Mesquite Flat was one of the many locations in Death Valley used for filming
the Tatooine scenes in Star Wars: A New Hope. Death Valley was also the
setting for parts of Return of the Jedi. As nerdy as we are, we somehow didn’t
know this before our trip.
Mesquite Flat is where R2-D2 rolled away from C-3PO.
The following day, we were off to Zabriskie Point and a 2.7-mile trek through the Badlands Loop. On the Badlands Loop, you wander through the maze of buttery colors below Zabriskie Point. These deposits were once the bottom of Lake Manly. Tilted and distorted by seismic activity and scored by the bursts of countless floods, the Badlands feature a labyrinth of carved, barren mounds separated by the thirsty fingers of dry washes.
Natural Bridge has the biggest span and worst name of the natural bridges in Death Valley.Natural Bridge Canyon contains a number of dry waterfalls, vertical mementos of the unforgiving force of flash floods.
We also checked out Natural Bridge in Natural Bridge Canyon that
afternoon- yes, those names are amazing. Jason and I have seen many natural
bridges, this one was different. With a toothed and chunky span 35 feet tall
and equally wide, this formation could never be called graceful. Like almost
all the 17 bridges in Death Valley, Natural Bridge is composed of conglomerate
rock, which is a type of sedimentary stone containing gravel, pebbles, and
boulders. Basically, conglomerate rock is nature’s cement. This short hike,
only 0.3 miles each way, is sure to please the geologically curious.
Dry should never be confused with dull.
Ever in search of nifty sunset locations, we tried to catch one
at Artist’s Palette that evening. We saw roughly the last 30 seconds. Fortunately,
the sun’s disappearance didn’t mute the heaps of mint, blush, canary, and ultramarine
splashed and swirled by volcanic and hydrothermal activity across this
mountainside. Magnificent!
It’s surprising how many forms and colors barren hillsides can take.
We filled the following day with a trek and a view. First, we
hiked the portion of Golden Canyon to the Red Cathedral. You may know Golden
Canyon by the name Jason calls it- Jawa Canyon. Most of the Jawa scenes in A
New Hope were filmed in this butterscotch-colored gap. Naturally, we
reenacted a few.
Golden Canyon is the most popular hike in Death Valley. Who are we to argue with the herd?
We successfully caught a sunset that evening at Dante’s View.
As it turns out, Dante’s View is also Luke’s view as he is looking down at the
Mos Eisley spaceport. This spot, located on the north side of Coffin Peak, is
over 5,000 feet above the valley floor. From its vantage point, one can see
both the lowest and highest points in the contiguous United States. Yes, in
case you are wondering, back in the 1920s, Death Valley’s landowners dove a
little heavy-handed into the death theme as a means of encouraging tourism-
Dante’s View, Funeral Mountains, Coffin Peak- you get the idea.
We packed for our trip not realizing we were headed to a galaxy far, far away. And yet…Jawa or Jason?Nestled among the ridges of the Black Mountains, Dante’s View is no Hell.
As our final exploit in Death Valley, we got up early to
catch a sunrise at Zabriskie Point, a popular daybreak photography spot. We’d
read that if you didn’t arrive at least an hour beforehand, you wouldn’t be
able to procure a spot. Although we were only 30 minutes early, there was still
plenty of space amongst the 26 tripods waiting for rays to reach Manly Beacon. We
didn’t mind getting a few less snoozes to get this experience.
Zabriskie Point is an iconic spot to see a sunrise.
Death Valley felt like the Wild West meets Mars. It was beautiful in rare and unexpected ways. The diverse landscape appeared alien, and we found spiders in our toilet. The temperatures hit the mid-80s almost every afternoon; it sure didn’t feel like February. How does anyone handle it when it’s 45 degrees warmer? Jason asked me in earnest before we left the park, “Do you promise you’ll come back to Death Valley with me again?” Jason, I promise.
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