PLAN TO IMPROVISE

 

 

Today’s trip report is brought to you by the color Red.

 

 

The rain forecasted for Monday failed to materialize.  I woke before dawn to a cloudless sky, and went up to the ridge to cook breakfast.  Windy conditions made the cooking difficult, but while the hordes of tourists were jostling each other to position themselves for the best view at Sunrise Point, I was munching on breakfast burritos as the sun climbed above the horizon.  I had a great seat for the show, and didn’t have to share it with anyone.

 

I had been anticipating rain, but it appeared that all of the clouds were remaining far to the north.  Up there, in the mountains, it was probably snowing.  At Bryce, even at 8000’ in elevation, it was sunny and cool.  I broke camp, and on a whim decided to do another hike there.  The Under the Rim Trail is a lengthy backpacking route, but the first 2 miles lead to an interesting area of rock formations called “The Hat Shop”.  I could do that 4-mile hike in the morning, and then drive to Zion National Park and do the 5-mile roundtrip hike to Angels Landing in the afternoon.  I had almost fully committed to that course of action when I studied my maps more carefully.  Hiking back from the Hat Shop would require a 1500’ elevation gain in 2 miles.  I knew the hike to Angel’s Landing required a steep climb, too.  To be honest, I wasn’t really feeling it.  Plus, I kind of wanted to visit Cedar Breaks National Monument while I was in the area.  On the spur of the moment, I decided to skip the Hat Shop and headed for Cedar Breaks.

 

I drove out of the park and returned to highway 12.  I headed west again, through more rolling plains and high desert scenery.  Before long, I began passing through another redrock canyon, this one heavily covered with pine trees.  This was Red Canyon, an area I’d heard a little about, but hadn’t had time to research.  I passed several trailheads, and began to wonder if I wasn’t missing something by simply driving through.  A few minutes later, I spotted a Forest Service Visitor’s Center.  On a whim, I pulled in to see what the area had to offer.

 

I spoke with a ranger, who gave me a free trail map that included brief descriptions of most of the trails.  He suggested a 5 or 6 mile hike that winds through a series of canyons on the far side of the road.  It was still early, and I wanted to get a better look at the area.  I decided to go for a spontaneous hike.

 

I crossed the road from the visitor’s center and picked up the Golden Wall Trail.  The path crosses a dry riverbed, and heads up a heavily forested canyon.  The hiking was initially dull, but that didn’t last long.  I reached a junction with the Castle Bridge Trail, and took that route.  I began to climb more steeply, and spied the natural bridge through the trees.  It was hard to get a good look at the bridge, but the Castle itself was more impressive.  Once I cleared the last of the trees, I had a great view of its massive redrock formations.  Beyond the castle, views of vast open country led to a series of mountains and high plateaus.

 

I crested the ridge into the teeth of a brutal wind.  I was more than happy to descend, and rejoined the Golden Wall Trail.  Another climb ensued, leading to a pass with views to the east.  A string of powerlines here spoiled the view somewhat, but it was only a minor annoyance.  The scenery was still good, and I hadn’t seen anyone else on the trail.

 

More downs and ups followed.  At some points I was greeted with expansive views of the redrock formations scattered throughout the canyon.  At other times I was more closed-in, confined by the walls of a narrow sub-canyon.  One final climb followed, and I reached a junction with the Buckhorn Trail.  I turned left to follow the spur towards the scenic high-point of the day.  The path leads steeply up to a bench that provides a great view of more redrock formations, as well as Red Canyon itself.  It was noon, and I was hungry, but the wind was still brutal.  I huddled behind a massive hoodoo and ate lunch out of the wind.

 

After lunch, I headed down, as I still wanted to visit Cedar Breaks.  A quick descent brought me to a pleasant campground along highway 12.  From there, I followed a paved bike trail ½ mile back to the visitor’s center.  I got back on highway 12 and followed it to its end at highway 89, and turned north.  A few miles later, I reached the town of Panguitch, and turned left on the road leading up to the Breaks.  I wasn’t far out of town when I passed an amusing sign advising travelers that this WAS NOT highway 89.  Why is it you never see a sign like that after making a wrong turn?

 

The road climbed steadily towards the summit of the plateau.  The forest quickly thickened, as I left the desert for the alpine country.  Before long I began to see aspens again.  Initially most of the aspens were still shy of peak color.  Then I passed through one brief but glorious stretch of stunning color, as the gold and orange aspen leaves decorated the sides of the highway.  The road continued to climb, and before long I was passing bare aspen trees that had already lost their leaves.  I was a little surprised, until I reached the entrance to Cedar Breaks National Monument and found out that I was higher than 10,000’ in elevation.  I had no idea Cedar Breaks was so high.

 

I parked at the visitor’s center, and used my National Parks Pass to gain admission (normal cost is $4).  If it had been windy at Red Canyon, it was absolutely gusting here.  At Red Canyon, it had at least been warm, but Cedar Breaks was cold! 

 

I added another shirt, and began the 2-mile trail to the Ramparts overlook.  The path leads along the rim of the amphitheatre, and provides great views of more red hoodoos as well as distant views to the west.  The next mountain to the west was gold from all of the aspens.  I hiked fast, and was relieved when the trail descended from the ridge into the amphitheatre.  The wind lessened immediately, and I eased my pace.  Before long I reached the first overlook, which provided a nice view back to the pink and red hoodoos crowding the amphitheatre.  Beyond the overlook, the trail led through an impressive stand of old-growth ponderosa pine.  The trail descended to follow a small stream.  For a time, I forgot I was in Utah.  Then the path regained the ridge, and the dramatic view of the amphitheatre reminded me of where I was.  I had a quick snack at the overlook, but the vicious wind had returned.  It wasn’t long before I packed up and headed back to the car. 

 

I spent nearly two hours on the trail at Cedar Breaks, and, like Red Canyon, I didn’t see another soul.  This was a pleasant change from Bryce, where I spent most of the day dodging other people.  I knew I’d better enjoy the solitude while I could, because I’d be spending the rest of the trip in Zion National Park, another hotbed of international tourism.

 

From Cedar Breaks, I drove the ear-popping descent to Zion.  In a little over an hour, I descended more the 6000’ in elevation.  It’s hard to imagine any other place that you can loose that much elevation so quickly, without being in an airplane.  I approached Zion on highway 9 from the east, and descended towards the heart of the park by way of a jumble of side canyons.  Unfortunately, I was also driving towards the setting sun.  Because of the blinding light, I missed out on some of Zion’s spectacular scenery.  I did get a break from the glare when I entered the mile-long tunnel that provides access to the main canyon.  Try holding your breath through that one!  The tunnel certainly wasn’t the most scenic part of the park (its dark in there!), but it was rather spooky.  By the time I emerged above the main canyon, I was ready to stare into the setting sun again.

 

I finally reached the bottom of the canyon and crossed the Virgin River on a bridge.  From there I drove down canyon to the visitor’s center, which had just closed, and on to the Watchman Campground, where I had reservations.  I was assigned site #31, which is a decent spot under a huge cottonwood.  The campground was shady and pleasant, but rather cramped.  There wasn’t even the illusion of privacy, as the campsites are spaced rather close together.  The campground was also heavily populated with people who couldn’t operate their car alarms.  In the morning and evening hours, the blaring of a car horn would erupt literally every few minutes.  After one lengthy outburst (that took at least a full minute to quell), I heard a voice say, “Ah, how you say, so sowwee.”  Ah yes, back in Disneyland.

 

I had spaghetti and salad that night for dinner.  Campfires were not allowed, due to exceptionally dry conditions.  This brings up a question.  Isn’t it always exceptionally dry in Zion?  It is in the desert, after all.  Of course, the desert is a land of contrasts.  It is brutally dry, except in canyons like Zion that have year-round flowing streams.  Those canyons are like a linear oasis, with vegetation that can get almost jungle-like along larger streams.  The desert is also hot, except in the winter or at night, when it can get downright frigid.  It never rains in the desert, but when it does, it pours.  The desert is hostile towards life, yet full of life.  What appears to be a vacant landscape devoid of life is actually full of plants, reptiles, birds, and more.  And the desert is a quiet, lonely place, unless you happen to be in a world famous National Park, like Zion.  Honk, honk, honk, honk, honk.  So sowwee.





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