The following day, also our last full one in the area, we decided to spend the greater part of the afternoon in Antimony since we didn’t anticipate being in its vicinity again soon. We rented kayaks and headed out on Otter Creek Reservoir. Otter Creek Reservoir is just over six miles long and a popular place to fish for rainbow trout. According to locals, the water gets packed on the weekends. As it was not a weekend, it was quite unpopulated. We kayaked nearly half its length, or what I’d like to think was “nearly” half its length, in the three hours we had boats.

After we got used to paddling, we found kayaking has a rhythm to it like running or hiking. Once that rhythm is established, your mind can wander. It was quite relaxing and a much different experience than kayaking in churning sea caves, which no sane being would describe as relaxing. The wind picked up close to the end of our voyage, apparently something that happens almost every afternoon on Otter Creek, and we had to work hard to propel ourselves back to the dock. Still, a repeatable experience.

Following kayaking we had a choice, mosey around our silo or take the one-hour-and-20-minute drive to Capitol Reef National Park just to do a few hours of hiking before dark. We opted to do that of course as we are not avid moseyers. We hadn’t been to Capitol Reef since 2009. Dumb us. While this national park gets less love for who knows what reason, less love means less people and that means more love from me. Capitol Reef, you don’t care if everyone loves you just as long as I do, right?

We jumped on the Chimney Rock Loop after noticing good reviews on AllTrails and its nearness to the park’s entrance. Wasting any of our limited hiking time was unacceptable. We expected Chimney Rock, a column of sandstone visible from the road, to be the main attraction of this trail. Not so. This path heads up about 300 feet onto the top of a plateau. As you tread across that mesa you can see Whiskey Flat, the Henry Mountains, Miners Mountain, the Navajo Knobs, the Fluted Cliffs, Fruita, Boulder Mountain, and Meeks Mesa, plus the silver, sage, and sienna confusion of the Waterpocket Fold. This is supposed to be an amazing trail near sunset. We didn’t know that beforehand, but, yes, it was amazing. Moreover, we only saw one other group during our entire trek. Gorgeous terrain set afire by the departing sun and no people? It was my favorite activity of our trip of course.

The next day, we planned on just making a straight dash for home with one little detour to the Butch Cassidy Childhood Home near Circleville. This led to us taking a different route back, which led to us driving near Fremont Indian State Park, which led to us spending five hours looking at ancient rock art. It was a vicious cycle.

Fremont Indian State Park is at the site of the largest Fremont village ever found with at least 60 pit houses, 19 granaries, and 26 other building. Sadly, it was only discovered on Five Finger Ridge shortly before half of it was scheduled to be destroyed to make way for I-70. Still, many artifacts and an abundance of rock art survived the highway and can be viewed at the park.

Although contemporaries of the Ancestral Puebloans, the Fremont were a unique group. Crops were their main form of survival, unlike the cultures that came after which focused on hunting and gathering. What became of the Fremont? Apparently, we know even less on that topic than the mysterious disappearance of the Ancestral Puebloans.

At Fremont Indian State Park, for the first time on this trip, we did not luck out with the weather. It was miserably hot our first few hours there until clouds and a sprinkling of rain eased our roasting. We just accepted the streams of sweat flowing through every crevice as we inspected Sheep Shelter Trail, Indian Blanket Viewpoint, Parade of Rock Art Trail, Cave of a Hundred Hands, Arch of Art, Newspaper Rock Viewpoint, Jedediah Smith Interpretive Site, Canyon of Rock Art Trail, and Skinner Canyon. Does that sound like a lot? It was only a fraction of the places to see rock art in the park. The rock art was almost overwhelmingly prolific spanning about 3,000 years.

Thus ended our trip, but what were our conclusions about Antimony and our unusual accommodations? The silo we stayed at, which used to store grain for cattle, was small, but its good design utilized all the available space. Notwithstanding the awakening we got in the middle of the night when the combination of rainstorm and metal roof made it impossible to sleep, we’d still recommend this uncommon structure.

And Antimony itself? The people of Antimony are friendly and proud of their little town. I’m not sure they should be proud of their cellphone service, but we thought it a nice spot anyway. On a side note, if you go to Antimony, make any reservations you need ahead of time. I’m talking ATVs, horseback riding, boat rentals, etc. Otherwise, owners will give you a number to call to make a reservation, a number you can’t call because your cellphone doesn’t work. We found the predicament both frustrating and fairly humorous. You may be thinking this information is irrelevant because you will never find yourself in Antimony, but who knows, someday it might be the unexpected answer to your would you rather.

And that is how our outing, which started not with a destination but an accommodation, ended up being an ad lib frolic in multiple national parks, state parks, and ghost towns. There are endless possibilities for discovery if you are willing to go even where your cellphone service cannot follow.

What is antimony? A notion, an element, an antidote to Billy Idol? It is an element, but it is also a small town in central Utah with about 100 residents and proximity to multiple national parks. How did we end up in this tiny settlement? And how did the ending up end up? Those elemental answers await you.

For Valentine’s Day this year, I gave Jason a “Would You Rather?” gift. Apparently, he would rather stay in a silo than a treehouse or a giant glamping tent. That silo was in Antimony. Did we know where Antimony was when I reserved the silo, or what was in Antimony beyond a silo? No.

It turns out, Antimony is a place where cellphone service cannot be found for almost an hour in any direction. That’s what isn’t in or around Antimony. So, what is? Bryce Canyon National Park, Capitol Reef National Park, Otter Creek State Park, Piute State Park, and Kodachrome Basin State Park. Yes, near Antimony you can experience much but tell no one.

Our first full day in Antimony, Bryce Canyon National Park was our destination. On the way, we wanted to commune with the forsaken at two ghost towns. We stopped at Osiris, which seemed more like a building than a town, and visited Widtsoe. We had explored Widtsoe last time we were in the area almost 10 years ago and were surprised to find that during the last decade people had begun to move back to this long-abandoned settlement. While the original one-room schoolhouse was still there and the ever-interesting Woodard House, the scattering of brand-new structures amongst these seemed to dematerialize the spirits of the past. We even returned to the Widtsoe Cemetery, a location we thought strange and slightly unsettling last time, only to find it just a somewhat unconventional, peaceful spot.

Although Jason and I had both been to Bryce Canyon National Park at least three or four times prior to this visit, we had not investigated many of its trails. On this outing, we inspected one of the unfamiliar, the Fairyland Loop. The Fairyland Loop is 8.3 miles long and considered strenuous. Its path passes points of interest like Oastler’s Castle, Chinese Wall, and Tower Bridge. Figuring out which hoodoos corresponded with which titles was often unachievable, but we saw it all even if we didn’t know what we were looking at.

We had read conflicting reports of this path’s busyness and were a little puzzled about what to expect. The proclaimers of emptiness were right; it was much less trafficked than other trails in Bryce. We saw exactly zero people after we passed Tower Bridge, suggesting hikers were just going to the bridge and not doing the complete loop.

Beyond a lack of hominoid clusters, we also lucked out on weather. Due to its high elevation, Bryce is typically about 10 degrees cooler than the surrounding region. That placed its temperatures somewhere in the low to mid-eighties on this particular afternoon. Even with elevation considered, after experiencing the hottest day on record in Utah right before our trip, we were still expecting some sultry misery in the canyon. However, thick clouds came in, and a breeze sprung up early in our expedition making it mighty pleasant. The sun didn’t show itself until about five o’clock. By then, it could only blast us briefly before hoodoos shadowed our way.

Were all the paragraphs above devoted to just one day? Umm… yes. That leaves the rest of our Antimony escapades to next week’s recount. Don’t worry, it will be longer than a fifth-grade book report but shorter than a dissertation… probably.