Canyonlands Day Two

By 7 am the sun's light had crept over the small dome of slick rock behind our campsite, invading our comfortable sanctuary from the previous day's heat.  With the tent quickly becoming a green house, it was time for breakfast.  

After cooking breakfast in camp, we drove to the visitor center to fill up our daypacks with water.  The cowboy camp didn't have water, and the visitor center, about ten miles south, was the closest water source.  We decided to do a few short hikes in the morning while it was still a bearable temperature in the desert. 

For our first stop, we headed for the Mesa Arch Trailhead.  More of a short walk than a hike, the Mesa Arch Trail is a half-mile loop to a picturesque arch on the Island in the Sky Mesa.

The walk only took a few minutes, and the path was well-maintained by the park service.  The arch itself was more impressive than in the photos I had seen.  I was able to climb up to the edge of the rock running underneath the arch, and was surprised to see that there was a drop off of close to a thousand feet immediately beyond.  Photos taken from the right angle captured the vast landscape framed by the arch.   We hung out long enough to take a few photos.  A handful of other tourists climbed the rocks around the arch searching for the perfect photo.

With our warm-up hike out of the way, we drove further across the mesa towards the Aztec Butte Trailhead.  This hike was a more formidable 2 mile round trip jaunt to a couple of archeological sites.  Most of the trail was a level walk through open desert scrubland on a sandy path.  We spotted a young jackrabbit on the side of the trail, munching on a long stalk of grass.  He didn't look to be alarmed by us.

Part way along the path, a side trail branched over the base of a large rock formation.  From this point, we climbed 40 or 50 feet of slick rock to the top of the formation.  The trail crossed the flat, rocky top to the other side and then descended to a cave.  Inside of this cave were remnants of an old granary used by indigenous peoples long ago.  It looked as if they had made bricks out of the clay and stacked them inside of the cave to create a storage space.  

We followed the spur trail back to the junction, and then continued towards Aztec Butte.  The butte was a large dome of gray rock, with scattered sandstone rocks and ledges.  The top of it was perfectly flat, and lined with green vegetation.  The easy trail quickly turned hard from here, as we had to ascend several hundred feet of slick rock at steep angles.  This was the hike when I began to trust my footing on the slick rock, which isn't really slick at all when its dry.  

On the table-flat top of the butte, the trail made a loop around the perimeter, affording views in all directions of the Island in the Sky Mesa, and the towering canyons of the Green River.  Ruins from another primitive structure were to one side of the trail.

The trip down went quickly, aided by a few stretches of scooting on our bottoms to avoid falling down the steep rock.  We made the easy walk back to the Jeep and headed further down the road for another hike.

Our third hike of the morning was to Whale Rock, a large formation of slick rock that resembles a whale if viewed from the right angle.  The trail was only a mile round trip, but it made a steep climb over ledges of sandstone and slick rock to the large, flat area atop the formation.  We sprawled out on the rocks, soaking up the sun and taking in the panoramic views of the landscape around us.  

By the time we had made our way back to the Jeep it was almost noon, and the air was quickly becoming too hot for hiking.  We decided to drive into Moab and look for an air-conditioned place to hang out during the warmest part of the day.  We ended up grabbing lunch and cold drinks at Sweet Cravings, a cafe right in town.  They had air conditioning and didn't mind us loitering at the table for a few hours.

The car thermometer read 106 degrees as we drove out of Moab, but by the time we had made the drive back to the Island in the Sky, it was a respectable 95 degrees outside.  We refilled our day packs with water at the visitor center and headed for the Murphy Point Trailhead.  

 The Murphy Point Trail provided an easy 1.8 mile walk to the edge of the canyon.  The hiking was mostly on sand and occasional slick rock, and the elevation never gained or lost more than a hundred feet.  The trail passed through an open, arid terrain of cacti and juniper.  As we approached the canyon edge, we had to climb across a sizable gap between large chunks of slick rock.  I found it was easier to get a running start heading down one rock before leaping the gap and using the momentum to climb up the other side.  Mary preferred the slower approach of scooting down one side, getting a foot hold and hand hold and then scrambling up the other side.  I'm finding this slick rock to be a fun surface to hike on.  As long as it doesn't rain, and there isn't any loose sand or gravel on it, the surface provides predictable and consistent footing.

 The view from the canyon edge was surreal.  A  sheer drop-off of about 1,400 feet provided views of the white rim road ( a path for 4 wheel drive vehicles) far below, and of a maze of mesas and canyons stretching to the edge of the earth.  The waters of the Green River were visible from the overlook as well.  

We hung around at the overlook, eating some animal crackers and debating how many miles we could see.  Eventually, we made the hike back to the Jeep.  

We drove back to the campsite in time to watch the sunset.  The sun melted into the horizon, casting off an infinite number of shades of red and yellow.  We cooked dinner in the cool, twilight air while the skies took on a rich, violet color.  Bats darted about the campsite as darkness took over the desert.

After dinner, we sat up for a couple of hours, enjoying the awesome display of stars.  With so little light from cities visible, and the moon not coming up until after midnight, the night sky was spectacular.  The glowing, gaseous blanket of the Milky Way stretched from one horizon to the next.  Eventually, our fatigue overtook our appreciation of the night show, and we climbed into the tent for a quiet night of sleep.  

Moab/Canyonlands Day 1

After finishing our backpack in Bryce Canyon we headed for the General Store by Sunset Point for much needed showers.  The store had coin operated showers for $2.  Knowing that we had a long drive ahead of us, we re-packed the Jeep in a way that allowed us to  take the top off without any of our stuff blowing away.  It was cool and cloudy in Bryce while we unpacked and then re-packed the Jeep.  At one point, all of our possessions were scattered along the sidewalk in front of the general store.  Folks walking by looked at us like transients, which I guess we kind of were.

Once showered and packed back up we headed off towards Moab.  We decided to take a more scenic route than the long, barren drive  we had taken on I-70 on the way out.  By taking side roads, we we would be able to drive through much of the Grand Escalante Staircase National Monument, and some of Capitol Reef National Park.  

The route did not disappoint.  The road climbed  relentlessly through bizarre rock formations as we drove east then climbed to over 10,000 feet of elevation in places. The astounding views seemed to stretch to the ends of the earth.  It was hard not to be impressed with the civil engineers that designed and built these roads- roads which were in far better shape than Michigan's highway system.  Considering the brutal landscape that had to be tamed in the construction of this path, it must have been quite a feat.  

Approaching Boulder, Utah, the road made a dizzying descent down the face of rock walls.  Sheer drop-offs on either side of the road made for white knuckle driving.  Just past Boulder we found a great place for lunch.  

The Hell's Backbone Grill was like an oasis in the desert for us.  Located right off of the highway on the outskirts of Boulder, the grill served eclectic and delicious fare in a beautiful setting.  We enjoyed a very late breakfast (always the best meal of the day) with organic eggs, fair trade coffee, potato pancakes and homemade bread and jams.  We were completely stuffed by the time we got back on the road. 

Past Boulder, the road cut a beautiful path through groves of cottonwood trees with scatterings of free-range cattle on green hillsides.  The weather was cool and breezy, with dark clouds brewing on the horizon.  It was weather more fit for Michigan, and made us feel at home while driving.

The drive through Capitol Reef National Park was  reminiscent of our time in Zion, but on a smaller scale.  Red rock formations towered over the road in places, and groves of cottonwood trees and a lush, green landscape adorned the small stream that flowed along the road.  We stopped for a few photos along the highway and to stretch our legs.

Beyond Capitol Reef, the terrain became truly bizarre.  Eventually, there were no trees to be seen, and towering, gray rock formations stood sentinel on both sides of the road.  After we made the turn north for I-70, the terrain opened up and became flat and barren.  Red mesas shimmered in the distance, and the road stretched into the horizon.  Even the 65 mph limit seemed inadequate while cruising the flat terrain.

The skies continued to darken while we drove, and we wondered if taking the top off of the Jeep was going to be a mistake.  Luckily, the weather forecast proved accurate, and we never saw the precipitation held by the dark skies.  

We arrived in Moab in the evening.  The air was thick and heavy as we drove through down Main Street.  Moab looked to be a very fun town, with eclectic eateries, coffee shops, outfitters, gear shops, art galleries and a brewery.  Thanks to the advice of a Moosejaw employee back home we had a campsite in mind for the night.  We headed out of town on a side road, but before the directions could take us to our destination we spotted a different BLM (Bureau of Land Management) campground on the side of the road.  This campground had ten sites situated right on the shores of the massive Colorado River.  We couldn't resist camping on water for the night.

After setting up camp, we headed back into town for some dinner at Miguel's.  Miguel's is a well-known mexican establishment.  They had nothing but glowing reviews online, and there fish tacos were voted number one by Outdoors Magazine, so we figured we couldn't go wrong.  The reviews were right.  We had a delicious dinner of potato flautas and mahi mahi tacos.

By the time we returned to camp, the skies had cleared some, and we crashed in our tent under the canopy of stars and black canyon walls.  The campsite next to us was staying up late drinking and listening to music.  We fell asleep to the hits of the 80's.

In the morning we grabbed a light breakfast and did some grocery shopping in town before heading for Canyonlands National Park.  Canyonlands is a massive park, with three distinct areas, or districts.  Our first destination was the Island in the Sky District, to the north of Moab.  

Island in the Sky is aptly named, as the bulk of the park sits on a large mesa.  This relatively flat piece of land is bordered by the Green River on one side and the Colorado River on the other.  The rivers meet to the south of the park, trapping the landmass high above it.  To the north, a tiny isthmus of land, called the neck, connects the mesa to the surrounding land.  Ranchers once used this area to hold cattle, as only the tiny neck needed to be secured in order to trap large herds of cattle on the island.  

Willow Campground is the only campground in the park.  We arrived to find it already full for the night, so we headed back out of the park in search of a place to camp.  About ten miles past the park boundary, we found a BLM campground called Cowboy Camp with space.  

Cowboy Camp turned out to be much more impressive than Willow.  With only 7 isolated sites situated on an open ridge overlooking miles of open desert, the campground was the perfect place for solitude near a national park.  We set up our campsite and changed into hiking clothes. 

It was late afternoon by the time we reached  the trailhead for our hike.  I was hoping to hike in the cooler part of the day, but it was still in the 90's when we stepped off down the trail for the Neck Spring Loop.

The Neck Spring Trail is a 6 mile loop that traverses the arid terrain of Island in the Sky, while passing by a couple of springs.  The hike left the parking lot, crossing the park road before beginning its descent into a small canyon.  Rock cairns, or piled up rocks left by rangers to indicate the path, allowed us to find our way through the desert scrubland.  

As we hiked, the sun bore down with surprising intensity for so late in the day.  The trail was mostly an easy-to-follow dirt path along the side of a canyon.  Occasionally, it would need to cross a wash and climb up the other side.  In these places, we would have to climb down large rocks steps or scurry over stretches of slick rock.  At the bottom of the canyons, we found dried-out washes and lush, green evidence of water everywhere.  The shade of the small trees was more than welcome in the afternoon heat.

Gradually, the trail made its way around the loop.  As it began to climb up the canyon wall towards the road we slowly acquired more and more shade. A relatively easy hike suddenly turned difficult, as the trail turned left and up.  A ten minute stretch climbed almost vertically up large stretches of slick rock towards the rim of the canyon.  A few sections required using hands and feet to climb.

The view on the rim was more than worth the effort, however.  We were back in the sun, but it was setting quickly, and the air was becoming cooler as we hiked.  The setting sun bathed the mesas and canyons in a golden hue while we hiked back towards the parking area.  Two huge jackrabbits ran across the trail.  They seemed to be enjoying the evening shade on the rim. 

Eventually the trail crossed the road and made its way north to the parking lot.  The views into the canyons was astounding, awash in light and shadows of a setting sun.  We stopped to sit on a large rock outcrop for a while in order to take in the grandness of the terrain.  It was impossible not to feel small in such a vast landscape.  

We drove back to camp just in time to watch the last shreds of sunlight melt into the horizon.  We cooked dinner in the now cool air while the skies grew dark.  A steady breeze blew across the desert.  They were dream-like conditions for camping.  

After dinner, we sat around camp and watched the stars come out.  It was one of the best night skies of our trip.  Stars stretched almost from one horizon to the other.  

We are just getting acquainted with Canyonlands National Park, but already I can tell that I am going to remember this vast and remarkable landscape.  

Bryce Canyon: Riggs Spring Loop Backpack

 The Riggs Spring Loop departs from Rainbow Point, on the southern end of Bryce Canyon National Park.  The trail makes an 8.8 mile loop into the wilderness below the pink cliffs, dropping over 1,700 feet as it winds through the dense forest, only to climb the same elevation on the other side.  We were in the mood to enjoy the solitude and the cool, breezy weather for a while longer before heading to the warmer climate of Moab, so we reserved campsites for two nights on the loop.  This would leave us with three short hikes and plenty of time for reading and relaxing in the hammock.  

Knowing we had a short first day's hike of 1.6 miles, we slept in  before packing up camp and stopping into Ruby's Inn for a big breakfast.  We were finally stepping onto the trail at Rainbow Point around 11 am.  Rainbow Point sits at over 9,100 feet of elevation, resulting in tremendous views and cool, breezy conditions.  

The trail to Yovimpa Pass, our first night's destination, was steeper than we expected.  The path switch-backed sharply down the face of an open slope.  The loose rocks and gravel beneath our feet made for slow, precarious travel.  We gradually descended into an open forest of large trees, many of which still bore the signs of having suffered through a forest fire at some point in the past.  Occasional views to the south provided glimpses of the pink cliffs directly beneath the ridge we were traversing, and more distant panoramas of the tortured landscape of the Grand Escalante Staircase.

Shortly after departing this fire-impacted section of the forest, we arrived at Yovimpa Pass.  A gravel road not open to cars intersected the trail at the pass.  Only a small wooden sign for the campsite gave away that this was where we were to camp.  We examined the area and decided to pitch our tent beneath a gigantic ponderosa pine tree.  The surrounding area was an opening within the forest.  Scattered downed trees littered the hillside above us.  The Riggs Spring Trail appeared to drop suddenly off of the ridge past here, giving our campsite ideal views to the  south.  

We lazed away the afternoon reading.  It was one of the coolest days since we had been in the park.  The air couldn't have been warmer than 75 degrees. 

 A little after five, three more hikers arrived at the campsite, making the steep climb up from below.  We had expected to have the campsite to ourselves for the night, but one of the men from Arizona said that the park grants permits for 6 people at this site each night.  This theory was shot down when a young couple from Boston hiked in a couple hours later, saying they had a permit too.  Fortunately, both parties bushwacked off-trail to find campsites, and although we could occasionally hear them, we had a reasonable amount of privacy for the night.

The air quickly grew cold after dark and we struggled to keep warm in our sleeping bag.  The forest was wonderfully silent as the brightest full moon of the year rose overhead.  I awoke on more than one occasion thinking that I had overslept and missed sunrise, only to realize that the blinding light overhead was just the moon.  

We slept in until it was warm enough to justify leaving our cozy sleeping bag.  After a breakfast of grits and  coffee we packed up and headed down the trail.  Our destination for the night was the Coral Hollow Campsite, less than four miles away.  This should have provided for another easy day, or at least we thought.  

The trail dropped sharply down the ridge for the first mile or so.  The loose rocks and gravel continued to make for slow going.  Eventually we were off of the ridge, and for the next mile or so we had an easy stroll through a beautiful forest of ponderosa, fir and aspen  trees.  The steady breeze blew through the aspen trees, shaking the little green leaves.  We thought that they looked to be waving at us as we hiked by.  Aspen certainly seem to be some of the friendliest trees to hike under!

When we reached the Riggs Spring Campsite we took off our packs for a break.  Riggs Spring would be our last source of water on the backpack, so I planned to filter enough to last us the rest of the trip here.  Mary sat with the packs while I wandered off to find the spring.  Riggs Spring was a small pool of clear water surrounded by mud at the edge of the forest clearing.  The park had built a small fence around it, I assumed to help hikers locate the tiny watering hole.  

I found a well-placed log to rest on while I filtered the water.  I had only been sitting there for a couple of minutes when I heard an alarming crashing sound behind me.  I spun around, ready to confront a bear, or other woodland creature.  Whatever caused the sound was not visible, but the trees and leaves were still shaking next to me.  The man from Arizona the last night had said that his wife had seen a mountain lion at Riggs Spring during a previous visit.  The park service had warning signs everywhere that a mountain lion had entered Sunset Campground last fall.  The park ranger in Zion National Park had told us that, although Utah hasn't had problems, "mountain lions in the Sierra Nevadas occasionally stalk and kill hikers."  

With these thoughts racing through my mind as I eyed the dark forest, I decided strength in numbers was a good idea.  I walked back to where Mary was and asked her to get our the bear spray, just in case.  We moved our packs to where I was filtering and made a point to talk loudly while I finished filtering.  The culprit behind the commotion never gave himself away, and we finished filtering, ate a quick snack and got back on the trail  As we hiked south, we both had the feeling of being watched.  The occasional noise to our right would cause us both to stop and peer into the forest, expecting to see something moving.  Heavy, gray clouds moved into the area, and a cold wind blew through the forest.  Mary remarked that if we in Michigan, we would assume it was going to rain, with air like that.

We passed the Riggs Spring Campsite, not bothering to to look at our trail map.  After all, this was a loop hike, we figured. One of the campfire rings in the group campground was filled with giant pinecones, piled high in a perfect geometric formation.  Mary joked that it was "bear art" - the work of bored forest bears with limited mediums with which to express themselves.  

As we hiked south the trail began to grow fainter and fainter.  It suddenly vanished at the edge of a giant wash, the forest tore up by the terrible violence of flash floods in the past.  We climbed down into the wash and began to search for where the trail resumed.  Some strange equipment was sitting on the opposite bank.  I recognized one device as an anemometer, a machine that measures wind speed and direction.  I wasn't sure what the other equipment was for.  

We followed the wash for a while, until a path appeared again.  Confident that we had found the trail, we bounded off down the path, eager to reach our campsite for the night.  After about ten minutes of hiking, we suddenly arrived at a fence.  Evidence of ranching was all around, and a sign indicated that we had reached the park boundary.  Beyond this point was National Forest Land.  A ladder had been installed over the fence, much like on sections of the AT in Vermont.  We wondered if we were supposed to climb it.  The guide book I had used hadn't  mentioned ranch land, fences, or leaving the park.  

Frustrated, I pulled out our topo map, and suddenly felt like a complete idiot.  The trail to Corral Hollow had turned off by the spring.  We had followed another trail that ran out of the park and into National Forest Land.  We angrily turned and resumed hiking in the opposite direction, hoping we could follow the faint path all the way back to the spring.  I couldn't help but wonder what the purpose of this trail was.  The dried-up remains of cow patties littered the forest floor- evidence that the ranch livestock must get into this area some times.

We successfully found our way back to the spring, but didn't see any signs of the trail turning northeast from here.  We decided the turn-off must be north of here.  We hiked for about ten minutes past the spring, annoyed to be covering the same section of trail again.  The trail never appeared.  We finally took our packs off and sat down for a break.  We were both cursing the park service for a such a poorly labeled trail junction.

Mary thought she had seen a sign on the opposite side of the wash, and maybe this would show where the trail picked up.  I stayed with the packs while she climbed the steep banks to have a look.  She was gone for about ten minutes, before she came walking back on the same side of the wash as I was sitting.  She had found the trail!

Mary had followed the wash for a while, looking for a sign.  She never did find the sign, but she found a clear trail with many boot prints.  She followed it back towards the other side of the wash until it intersected with trail we had been on, sitting one of her trekking poles down to mark the spot.  It turned out the trail junction was exactly where it was shown on the map.  If we stood facing in the direction of travel of the trail we were on, it was completely concealed by the tall grasses at the junction.  Once we turned our bodies and looked down it, the path was clear.  We had wasted more than an hour wandering around the forest looking for it.  

The path now clear, we resumed hiking.  The trail climbed steadily away from the junction, passing through a dense forest with no views.  We struggled to find the trail again where a giant tree had fallen and wiped out the trail.  This time, it only took us a couple minutes of wandering around to pick up the trail on the other side of the tangled mess.  No wonder the ranger had warned us that Bryce wasn't a good backcountry park!

A couple of hikers passed us headed in the opposite direction as we climbed.  Where were they when we couldn't find the trail, we wondered!?!  

Eventually the sing for Corral Hollow appeared.  We were delighted to be done hiking for the day.  What was supposed to be a short, easy hiking day had turned into a frustrating and long hike.  Corral Hollow was a small campsite, with room only for a couple of tents.  A "hollow' is like a ravine, or gully.  Corral Hollow was a fairly small level area, with steep walls rising on all sides.  Pink Cliffs were visible directly above us, and giant trees lined the trail through the hollow.  

We set up camp quickly, eager to relax.  We did not see another soul while we were camped at Corral Hollow.  The woods were eerily silent during the night.  Dark clouds drifted in during the evening, and we wondered if we had erred in not brining our rain fly.  One plus to the cloud cover was that it trapped the day's heat at least.  The air remained balmy throughout the night.  The moon passed overhead during the night, its intense white light shrouded by drifting clouds.  

We were relieved when morning came and the skies were clear.  We ate quickly, packed up camp, and were on the trail before 8 am.  The hike up from Corral Hollow to Rainbow Point, 3.6 miles, was by far the most spectacular section of the hike.  The trail quickly ascended to a ridge with stunning views of the Grand Escalante Staircase in the distance, and the dark green forest in the foreground.  The rest of the hike stayed on this ridge, allowing for steady views and consistent breezy, cool air.

By 10 o'clock we were making our way past tourist in flip flops wandering the woodchip-covered trail near Rainbow Point.  Our two night backpack on the Riggs Spring Trail had turned out to be much harder than we expected.  Our reward for the slow travel on the poorly marked and lightly used trail, though, was two nights of solitude in a beautiful, dark forest.  We never saw any large mammals during our backpack, but we had the distinct impression they were around.  We even found some mountain lion scat on the trail in one section of the trail.  The wilderness below the rim was the perfect answer to the hordes of tourists packing the viewpoints above.

Note:  The little green guy in the bottom picture is a short-horned lizard, which was saw tons of on the trail.    

Bryce Canyon Day 4: Red Canyon Loop

Today was our last day in Bryce Canyon before we start our two night backpack.  For our last day-hike in the park, we actually chose a hike that wasn't in the park.  About fifteen miles north and west of the park entrance is a small recreation area in the Dixie National Forest, the Red Canyon.  This relatively small area tucked away to the West of Bryce Canyon receives limited use.  The terrain is defined, as the name gives away, by bright red rock on almost every surface.  

Most visitors to the Red Rock Canyon only drive through, or maybe stop to snap a few photos as they pass through on Highway 89.  The road, accompanied by a paved bike path, winds through the lowest part of the canyon for a few miles.  In places, the road passes through some sandstone arches, making for neat photo opportunities.  

Driving west through the canyon, the trailhead was directly off the highway on the north side.  We arrived in the late morning and found only a truck with a horse trailer parked in the lot.  We would pass the party on horseback a few minutes into our hike, and then have the trail to ourselves most of the day.  

Heading north from the parking lot, the trail climbed ever so gradually through an open rocky terrain.  The path followed a large wash, crossing the dried-up river several times as it ascended towards a mesa.  Large ponderosa pine trees dotted the landscape as we picked our way through the rocky terrain and frequent horse droppings.  The area had a surprising feel of wilderness and solitude to it, considering we were only a few minutes from a busy highway.  

One mile north of the trailhead we encountered our first trail junction with the Rich Trail, but following the advice of the hiking guide I was using, we continued north on the Cassidy Trail.  Past the junction we began to climb more steeply, and gradually views began to open up around us.  Red Rocks dotted with ponderosa and limber pines starkly contrasted with brilliant blue skies overhead.  It was a remarkable landscape to be hiking through.

At the second junction with the Rich Trail, we turned south, dropping into a saddle between two red rock ridges.  Leaving the saddle, the trail climbed steeply to the top of a mesa.  From here we had an easy stroll on flat terrain towards the edge of the mesa.  As we approached the edge we were rewarded with spectacular views in every direction.  To the West we saw open grassland with a few patches of forest.  In the three other directions was a picturesque landscape of red rock mesas and ridges, crossed by rocky washes of dried out stream beds and dotted with lonely pine trees.  It was easy to picture a scene from a western movie being filmed in this setting.

We at our lunch high on the ridge, enjoying the pleasant breezes and tremendous scenery.  On the return hike, we followed the Rich Trail all the way back to the first junction of the day.  The trail descended rapidly, following a steep wash for a portion.  The footing was tricky in places and slowed our progress.  

Once we reached the junction with the Cassidy Trail we had an easy one mile downhill stroll back to the trailhead.  Three mountain bikers passed us on our way out, huffing and puffing loudly as they made the uphill climb.   These were the first people we had seen since the horse party at the start of our hike.  The solitude was a welcome relief from the crowds at Bryce Canyon this week.  

Today's hike was a pleasant one and worth the short drive out of the park.  Eric Molvar and Tamara Martin did an excellent job recommending this hike in their guide to the region "Hiking Zion and Bryce Canyon National Parks."  This book was an indispensable resource for me in planning  our time in these two southwestern Utah parks.

An aside not related to today's hike:  we were fortunate enough to attend last night's astronomy program provided by the park service and its many tremendous volunteers.  The presentation was fascinating and informative, and the night-sky watch held at the visitor center afterwards was astounding.  We had the opportunity to see a distant nebula formed by a dying star through a high-powered telescope, something I had only previously seen in pictures publicized from the Hubbell Telescope.  Another scope was fixed on Saturn.  We were able to clearly make out the rings of Saturn, and, more impressively to me, a bright red dot that was one of Saturn's moons, Titan.  Titan was something I remember reading about as a kid, when the Cassini spacecraft was being prepared for a mission to explore the distant satellite.  Bryce Canon's astronomy programs are fantastic.  I am great-full to the park and its many volunteers for this awesome opportunity.