Last spring, in a total last-minute whim with less than a 24-hour notice, we decided to join my sister and a couple of her kids on a weekend getaway to Capitol Reef National Park. Brief but beautiful could adequately sum the whole thing up… but I’ll go for completely average with my slightly lengthier account of the excursion.
The Golden Throne is over 7,000 feet high.
We arrived in Capitol Reef late in the afternoon. That gave us just enough time to complete the Golden Throne Trail, 1.8 miles each way, before the arrival of night transformed the throne into more of an obscure sofa. The Golden Throne, an imposing dome, rules 1,400 feet above Capitol Gorge. Although it is comprised of Navajo Sandstone, a Carmel Formation topping supplies its characteristic yellow stain. From the Golden Throne Trail, much better views of this geological curiosity can be observed than from Capitol Gorge below. Getting to the trailhead does require a drive through part of that gorge, a surreal experience in of itself along a gravelly water-carved slot that coils between immense sandstone cliffs.
In 1952, Capitol Reef National Monument, not yet a national park, was officially opened to uranium mining in the interest of national security. It was not conservation sensibilities that ultimately halted this scarring work but low uranium concentrations.
The next day, we strode three miles to the top of Cassidy Arch and back. Cassidy Arch hangs 400-500 feet above Grand Wash. Its trail gains 550 feet in roughly half a mile, which I suppose makes it somewhat strenuous, but it just felt like a steady climb to us.
From further back, the extreme gaps beneath Cassidy Arch are strikingly apparent.Cassidy Arch, named after outlaw Butch Cassidy, defies conventions like its namesake.
The craziest thing about this arch is that you can walk out on top of it, which isn’t usually allowed these days in national parks. Further, the terrain around the arch slopes down into a sheer alcove with pocked walls that drop hundreds of feet. The setting makes the tummy tingle and the bladder want to tinkle, but it also makes for some intriguing pictures and memorable incidences.
A decline down to certain oblivion isn’t usually something you skip to your lou over.
Aside from some excellent conversations and a few fantastic meals at Capitol Burger, Curry Pizza, and Chak Balam, that’s all we had time for. Our trip was less than 36 hours from start to finish and less than 72 hours from ideation to completion. As it was short and sweet, I’d like to imagine this post was too.
For my birthday last year, Jason gave me a weekend on the slopes via a cabin rental close to the lifts at Brighton Resort. We had to make the cabin reservation six months in advance and just hope that snow would be there. When our allotted time arrived, fresh powder there was not. With cloudless skies and temperatures in the 30s, Jason and I wasted no energy lamenting that lack of new precipitate but got right to enjoying the surplus of sunshine. The weekend did crush others’ expectations though. Below is the story about how high hopes can sometimes lead to falling on your face unexpectedly and repeatedly.
Before we get into this trip’s elations and disgruntlements though, let me quickly address the virus in the room… aah, COVID. That pointy adversary continues to heighten vacation stress, and it did so on this occasion. I felt like I was getting a sore throat just as we were traveling up the canyon. Luckily, it was only another case of CRVIP (COVID-Related Vacation-Induced Panic). It’s a bizarre world where relief follows when an issue turns out to just be mental illness.
Hopes were high after lessons and before a real run.
As I did not have COVID, and nothing else could impede our rush to the slopes, we flocked unblocked. Jason and I spent the first day boarding by ourselves. My boarding post will soon give you more than enough details on the particulars of those refreshing mountain loops.
That evening, some of my sister’s family joined us. Of the three kids, two would be attempting snowboarding for the first time the following day. They excitedly asked questions about carving that clearly denoted they had unrealistic expectations on how their riding was going to go. I tried to change those expectations to predominantly involve pain, falling, flailing, embarrassment, tipping, and crashing. Yet, they remained unswayed, continuing to envision shredding like Shaun White after a two-hour lesson.
Just a regular first day of boarding.
Not surprisingly, things did not proceed as Whitish as they anticipated the next day, and their enthusiasm waned. Out of the two new boarders, the youngest was willing to entertain the idea of boarding again after her first experience. However, the oldest was overwhelmingly frustrated by his difficulties and lack of progress. He was also cold and soggy. The gloves we loaned him became threadbare and even spawned a hole during the course of the day. How? They’d only been worn a few times. Whatever the cause, leaky gloves aren’t classically considered morale boosters. After his span on the slopes, he was noncommittal about his readiness to try boarding a second time.
There are advantages to being small; this is one of them.
That evening, everyone was fairly lethargic, and some were downright demoralized, but we managed to muster the energy to go out for pizza, get through a game of Mysterium, hold a ping pong tournament, and undertake some spontaneous storytelling. Not too shabby a turnaround for a group that had only just given up its aspirations of buttering the slopes like instant Rice.
How does this happen to gloves in one day?
Although fresh pow was absent from our slope-side weekend, Jason and I altered our hopes to meet reality without significant angst. Some of the others in our party were more reluctant to let go of their overestimations of the outing and their abilities. Still, even those who didn’t achieve powder prowess reached great heights… which they fell from of course. On a closing note, I’m happy to report that the reluctant noob didn’t give up on snowboarding after this excursion and even purchased a season pass for next season.
Jason and I thought the weirdest Christmas we’d ever experience was behind us with 2020’s isolated holidays. We were incorrect. While we knew 2020’s festivities were going to be odd with COVID’s interference and planned accordingly, in 2021 the oddness just hit out of the blue. Omicron, the latest COVID-19 variant to trend, was keen on bringing the unusual back. We coped by incorporating less people and more powder into our holiday schemes. This escape plan worked… with one exception.
This turned out to be our last normal Christmas gathering because family members tested positive for COVID the next day.
Just two days before Christmas, we learned my brother had COVID, a nephew on our other side had COVID, and a couple nephews from a different family were exposed and had symptoms that might be COVID. My dad also came down with a cold but tested negative for COVID. As a result of all the above, my family postponed our Christmas gathering, and Jason’s family’s merriments were reduced. Frankly, it was a bit of a mess. However, the outdoors were not down with COVID, so that is where we found our entertainment and our serenity.
Jason and I went snowshoeing on Christmas Eve near Tibble Fork Reservoir in American Fork Canyon with fresh layers of snow underfoot and more falling on our heads. Although the snow was quite heavy and already melting in place, the experience was magical. The families enjoying the reservoir and its nearby sledding hill virtually disappeared as the time for their Christmas Eve plans approached. The mountains silenced and became all ours.
As the mountains emptied on Christmas Eve, our hearts filled.I guess Jason wasn’t quite the only man on the mountain.
Our last-minute Christmas Eve snowshoeing diversion had one downside, it meant we had to finish wrapping presents and straightening our house after returning that evening. We packaged and cleaned speedily and still made our intended dinner of citrus salad right in time to eat at 1:00 AM.
Since family plans were canceled, Jason and I elected to do a hike near Blackridge Reservoir on Christmas afternoon instead. It was windy, muddy, and icy in sections, but we still loved it. I’ll never complain about a Christmas hike. Afterward, we met up with my parents and sisters at a park. With the warmth provided by three portable space heaters, we tolerated the chill and chatted for a couple hours.
The weather wasn’t ideal during our Christmas hike, but it was acceptable.
That evening, Jason and I made Yorkshire pudding and citrus salad for dinner and then played games on Jackbox with some of our family members stuck isolating. This left the tradition of opening our presents to each other very late intact. We started opening around 11:00 PM and finished after midnight. Yes, even with the pandemic irregularities, everything was right in the world.
Soldier Hollow boasts 1,200-foot sliding lanes and is always a good time.
We spent the next afternoon tubing with Jason’s parents and brother at Soldier Hollow. The snow was slippery and fast, and we got unexpected air a couple times. After spending three days outside, we saw no reason to start moderating our habits. We went snowboarding at Solitude the following day, our first time of the season. More on that will come in my dedicated snowboarding post.
While not quite typical, this gathering was at least a gathering.
By New Year’s Eve, some of my extended family had reemerged from their virus-induced separation. We applauded the arrival of 2022 alongside a few of them in our garage with games and good air flow after another day of snowboarding. Confetti cannons and a 1:00 AM silent snowball fight heralded in the New Year.
The Mill Canyon Trail is popular for winter hikes and snowshoeing.
On New Year’s Day, we went snowshoeing with my sister and her husband on the Mill Canyon Trail in American Fork Canyon. Then, the next day, we went snowshoeing again with a brother-in-law and some nieces and nephews up the Pine Hollow Trail.
The Pine Hollow Trail starts at the highest point accessible in the canyon during the winter without a snowmobile.Climb a little over a mile and the Pine Hollow Trail rewards you with a prime meadow for a snowball fight.
When everyone was well again, we let the nieces and nephews choose between a few activities as their Christmas present. After debating, negotiating, and bribing each other, they finally decided on an escape room at Enigma Escape. No one got out. That sounds pitiful, but let me explain… okay, it’s a bit pitiful. As we were too large a group for just one, we had two escape rooms reserved. We split into unbalanced subsets based off the kids’ preferences. This led to an uneven distribution of adult and adolescent brainpower. Jason and I were in the group that did Hexed, a room with a 60% success rate. We almost escaped. If only we had been more observant of one tiny thing… The other group did Hyde, a room with only a 15% success rate. Lots of kids and a 15% chance of success? Doesn’t sound promising, does it? It wasn’t.
Those masks covered the defeat on our faces.
That is the summation of our strange-again holidays. Between the snowshoeing, tubing, hiking, and snowboarding, we spent four days outside, took a three-day break, and then spent three more days outdoors. We escaped people and COVID, but we didn’t manage to escape from an escape room.
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