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.

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!

Road trips, thanks to the closeness they enforce, can be a great way to facilitate conversations on life’s most meaningful topics, like how much wood a woodchuck would chuck and so forth. As we were eager to know all the particulars about woodchucks, Jason and I instigated a lengthy drive to Fort Collins, Colorado last summer. It was a boring drive with an excellent destination, which means it was typical of the road trip genre.

Fort Collins is Colorado’s 4^th-most populated city. Colorado State University is the city’s largest employer, and its research facilities have attracted multiple tech firms to the area. However, for tourists, Fort Collins’ downtown is much more of a draw than its research facilities. The streets of its sizeable, historic district are charming and contain ample dining and shopping options. (I’d recommend the chocolate shop Nuance.) Visiting downtown was first on our itinerary after arriving. Following a bit of browsing in its cute stores, what was beneath those shops, which was less cute, held our attention.

We joined a Fort Collins Ghost Tour and went below the streets to learn about the darker side (literally and figuratively) of the settlement’s early days. Underneath the oldest part of Fort Collins stretches a secret: the buildings are linked via a network of underground tunnels. I’ve found conflicting accounts on whether these tunnels were created for ordinary reasons like merchandise delivery or to facilitate the steam heating of the entire area. Whatever their purpose, they added an element of bizarreness to the already spooky subterranean spaces we visited.

Amongst these basements was the one belonging to the town’s original firehouse, which was built in 1881. The firehouse had an underground jail. Why underground? Its placement served to separate the diseases that flourished in its cramped quarters from the public and provide an undisturbed spot for solitary confinement. The prisoners’ morgue in the basement next door with its dirt ramp for body drop off and cold storage room for corpses was the creepiest part of the tour.

In contrast, the coolest part of the tour was the speakeasy found in the tunnels under the Northern Hotel during modern maintenance work, a leftover from the decades when alcohol was banned in Fort Collins. The old speakeasy had been blocked off shortly after its discovery for safety reasons, but the door to it was still swinging. Surprisingly, considering the current proliferation of breweries in Fort Collins, the alcohol prohibition era spanned much longer there than nationally, lasting from 1896 to 1969. The Northern Hotel was completed in 1873 and opened as the Northern in 1905, amid that prohibition. During its heyday it was frequented by celebrities like John Wayne, Vincent Price, and Franklin D. Roosevelt… and apparently, they got thirsty. In addition to all those mysterious spots, we also visited the Avery Building, which might be haunted by the ghost of businessman William Avery who might have been poisoned by his wife in 1890.

The next day, we moved our explorations to Estes Park and Rocky Mountain National Park. Rocky Mountain National Park is the 4^th-most-visited national park in the US due in large part to its proximity to Denver. In 2022, that equated to about 4,300,000 sightseers. As a result, you not only need an entry time reservation to get into the park between 9:00 AM and 2:00 PM but must obtain an additional reservation for the Bear Lake Road, if you want to access the area where a hefty share of the park’s most popular short hikes are located. Reservations for the Bear Lake Road can be particularly hard to come by. The overuse of the park has also impacted the staff. Many of the rangers we encountered were grouchy, probably from dealing with a surplus of confused idiots every day.

Miraculously, we were able to acquire a Bear Lake Road pass. Hence, we chose to hike 3.6 miles out-and-back to Nymph, Dream, and Emerald Lakes on one of the most trafficked trails in the park. As we were running out of time to complete this route before our next mystical rendezvous, those of us who wanted to go all the way to Emerald Lake needed to make the return 1.8 miles in 22 minutes. We managed to arrive back at the trailhead only five minutes late by running the entire way down and averaging about 13:30 per mile. Overall impression of Rocky Mountain on this visit? Beautiful as always but way too many people.

That evening, we upgraded from the natural to the supernatural on a ghost tour at the Stanley Hotel in Estes Park per the request of some of the youngsters in the group. While about half of us had done this tour before, our guide this time made it a much scarier experience. She used the power of suggestion to alter perceptions and bring imagined sensations into reality. Still, the kids had a blast and were thrilled to try out their new spirit box.

Our hike the next day was much more satisfying than Rocky Mountain, despite its lesser renown. We traversed about 6.5 miles in the Horsetooth Mountain Open Space visiting Horsetooth Falls and the top of Horsetooth Rock, which has an elevation of 7,256 feet, via the Horsetooth Falls, Spring Creek, and Wathen Trails.

Our time in Fort Collins came to an end the next day and all that was left was the tedious drive home. During that drive, we stopped at the Wyoming Territorial Prison State Historic Site. Although this was intended to be a brief stop, we stayed for a couple hours and still didn’t get a chance to read most of the signs. If you find yourself in its vicinity, it’s a fun and informative place to take a break.

As a side note, it was pouring when we got to the prison and, oh yeah, our whole trip was very wet. We were rained on generously every day at some point, but we didn’t let that stop us- obviously.

Road trips are both exciting and tedious. Through them we encounter new wonders, develop techniques for staying alert in landscapes of never-ending sagebrush, and of course, learn how much wood a woodchuck would chuck. I’m not going to give you all the answers though; I’ll let you discover those on your own road pilgrimage.