ORANGE BARRELS
Orange barrels, orange barrels,
everywhere I see
Orange barrels, orange barrels, looking
back at me
Look at Larry, Daryl, and Daryl,
Standing next to the orange barrels
Looking back at me.
They have signs that say slow down
I drive 25 through town
Their faces are dark and dirty and
brown
They’re looking back at me.
Orange barrels, orange barrels,
everywhere I see
Orange barrels, orange barrels,
Why can’t I be free?
Look at Larry, Daryl, and Daryl
Standing next to the orange barrels
In their orange vest apparel
Looking back at me.
They stand in their stink and sweat
I haven’t seen them working yet
They have to pee in a port-o-let
And their butt crack smiles at me.
By Todd Yohn
Today’s trip
report is brought to you by the color orange.
Thursday
was the final day of my trip. I was up
fairly early, as I wanted to squeeze one more hike in before driving back to
Salt Lake City. I broke camp, packed
the car, and grabbed my boots, which were somehow dry. They couldn’t have been any wetter after my
hike through The Narrows, but the dry Utah air had worked its magic overnight.
I
left the park and drove through Springdale, heading west towards I-15. There was some nice desert scenery out this
way. After about 30 minutes, I reached
the highway. Soon I was heading north
at 80 mph. I got off the interstate at
the exit for Kolob Canyons, and stopped at the visitor’s center. If you only visit the Kolob section of Zion
National Park, the fee is $10. Paying
it is pretty much on the honor system, as there is no gate.
It
was windy and cold in the parking lot.
The Kolob region is much higher than Zion Canyon, and I could definitely
feel winter coming despite the sunny skies.
I actually put on pants and a long sleeve shirt in the bathroom in preparation
for my hike.
I
drove a couple of miles down the park road, and stopped at the Taylor Creek
Trailhead. There were only two other
cars in the parking lot. After seeing
dozens of people on my hikes in Zion Canyon, I was looking forward to a quieter
experience.
It
was less windy and warmer at the trailhead.
I took off the layers I had put on five minutes earlier in the bathroom
and hit the trail. A short, steep
descent led to Taylor Creek, which I would be following for 2 ½ miles to Double
Arch Alcove. I headed upstream,
following a sandy path under Cottonwoods that were just beginning to turn
gold. The path stayed close, or in, the
creek the whole way, but there were frequent views of red and orange cliffs
surrounding the valley.
After
a short hike, I reached the confluence of the North and Middle Forks of Taylor
Creek. In the woods just above the
streams, I found a historic settlers cabin.
The one room cabin was an interesting diversion, especially since it
hasn’t been restored.
I
continued hiking upstream beyond the cabin.
The farther I hiked, the more the canyon walls closed in. What had started out as an open, sunny
valley was quickly turning into a deep, dark canyon. Soon the woods thickened, and the temperature dropped as the sun disappeared
behind the south wall of the canyon. I
wasn’t far from Double Arch Alcove when I passed another settlers cabin. This one was similar, but in a less scenic
spot deeper in the forest.
A
few minutes later, I reached Double Arch Alcove. The multi-level alcove could almost pass for a cave. It is carved out of the south wall of the
canyon, and features dripping springs and ferns. What it doesn’t have is a pair of arches. High up on the canyon wall is an orange
slice of overhanging rock that might qualify as an arch. There wasn’t any sign of another arch,
though.
Two
other hikers were at the alcove when I arrived, so I decided to explore farther
up the canyon before lunch. I followed
a twisting passage in the now dry streambed.
A few minutes later, I reached another, smaller alcove with a
spring. This is the true headwaters of
the Middle Fork, except that the water goes briefly underground before
reemerging near Double Arch Alcove.
The
canyon ends in steep slopes just beyond the second alcove. I flirted with the idea of scrambling up the
hill to gain an overview of the area, but the steep, loose rock and sand
quickly discouraged me. Before long, I
headed back to Double Arch Alcove, which is reached in time for lunch. I relaxed there and enjoyed the views of red
stained walls, contrasting with the bright green of the ferns growing around
the springs.
Before
long, other hikers began to arrive.
That was my cue to head out. On
the return hike, I saw a surprising number of other hikers. It certainly wasn’t as crowded as Zion
Canyon, but I saw far more hikers than I had expected.
I
returned to the car, and drove to the end of the park road. The park road features great views of the
Kolob Terrace – a series of spectacular peaks, cliffs, and canyons. At the end of the road, I hiked ½ mile to
the scenic overlook for a better view.
From the top, I had a similar view of the terrace, but also had a nice
look at mountains to the west and the expanse of canyons to the south in the
heart of Zion.
I
returned to the car, and headed for the highway. I was hoping to make good time, as my flight home from Salt Lake
City was early the next morning. I
would have, too, if long stretches of I-15 hadn’t been under construction. Well, by construction I mean that one lane
or the other was frequently decorated with orange barrels. I passed miles and miles of orange barrels,
but only 50 yards where actual work was taking place. Does anybody know the name of the company that makes the orange
barrels? How much is their stock price?
The
state of Utah eventually ran out of orange barrels, and I cruised into Salt
Lake City by early evening. As the
daylight was fading, I noticed fresh new snow on the mountaintops surrounding
the valley.
I
got a room at a Motel 6. While I was
packing the car, I discovered that Salt Lake City has prostitutes! Funny, I didn’t think the Mormons allowed
that sort of thing. The real irony is
that I had been only a hundred miles or so from Vegas that morning, only to
drive 5 hours to Salt Lake City to see a hooker in a cheap hotel parking
lot. Briefly I wandered if I had driven
the wrong direction on I-15.
Friday
morning’s flight was smooth. Flying
over the Rockies was nice, although the gold of the aspens from two weeks
earlier had been replaced by the white of fresh snow. By late afternoon, I was back in Charlotte, where it was still
brutally hot and humid. I can only hope
that I’ll soon get the chance to take another business trip to someplace cool
like Utah.
Back to Utah
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Please remember to Leave No Trace!