Brian Abbott’s Blog

July 24—25, 2006

With cash in wallet, we set up our tent. We were hungry so we decided to return to Torrey to see if we could find a decent bite to eat. We ended up choosing a lovely Southwest restaurant on the west side of town called Cafe Diablo. We arrived about 15 minutes before they opened, so we waited with a glass of wine on the outdoor patio.

This high-end cuisine seems out of place in such a rural, informal setting, but here it is serving up southwest fusion dishes. Some menu highlights include rattlesnake cakes, duck mariachi, and firecrackers, which remain a mystery to me. When we asked about the rattlesnake, our waitress flashed open her photo album containing some recent pictures of snakes she had taken while hiking in the area.

We had a lovely view of the late afternoon Sun on the yellow-grass-covered field that gently rose to meet a rocky ridge of mountains. I had Beef Flank Steak Carbon and Mel had the Pumpkin Seed Trout. The food was expensive, but very good. If you find yourself in Torrey, I would recommend stopping in.

We stopped off at Sunset Point about two hours before sunset. Clouds spoiled our view of the deep ravine whose steep walls would otherwise reveal a splendid array of colors. There was not another soul for miles; we had this trail all to ourselves. Suddenly, a strong wind invaded our peace and we decided to head back to the car.

The wind remained, driving us inside the tent. Eventually, as night fell, the wind quieted and I spent the remaining minutes of daylight writing on a picnic table.

We woke up last night about 4 AM to see the stars, but it was partly cloudy. Mel fell back to sleep, but I had trouble falling back to sleep, mainly because of the herd of deer playing outside the tent. Most of them were eating the grass in the campground, but one was running around and around. I listened closely to see if I could detect where it was, but only heard galloping hoofs around us.

Grass, you ask? Yes, there is grass in this dry, desolate area. The Fremont River cuts through the park along highway 24. The Fremont peoples grew corn, beans, and squash in this area until the mid 13th century, when they and other Southwest cultures disappeared. The only remaining connection to these people are the pictographs and petroglyphs adorning the rocks. Europeans arrived in 1871 and by 1917 the town of Fruita was booming with its orchards. Some historic buildings remain from that time.

Gifford Farm, Capitol Reef Nat’l Park, Utah.

Once the Sun peeked over the neighboring butte, the tent transformed into a oven. We packed the car and were off to see more of Capitol Reef for half the day. We had originally planned to go to Arches National Park later today, but we were now thinking of heading farther east.

We decided to spend our half day hiking the Grand Wash. This is moderately deep, narrow canyon cut by periodic flash floods. It was hot and the Sun beat down upon us. The only relief was bestowed upon us in the shade of the canyon walls.

Here are some shots from that hike:

Mel climbing the sandstone walles of the Grand Wash.

Me, posing beside a steep wall of the Grand Wash.

Grand Wash hike, bring your fluids!

In the deepest part of the Grand Wash.

Mel holding up the canyon walls.

After our hike, we headed east toward Colorado through some of the most barren, godforsaken land I’ve seen. Following route 24, we traversed through a few steps of the Grand Staircase. In these pictures you see the gray cliffs mixed in with other hues. It reminds me of the Moon.

Gray Cliffs along Utah Route 24.

Later, the Vermillion Cliffs appear, the next step up in the Colorado Plateau.

July 26—27, 2006

For the remainder of our trip we focused on reaching New York. I needed to return to work and we were running out of cash. We drove from Capitol Reef along interstate 70 through Colorado to the town of Silverthorne. We camped about 10 miles north of town. That night as we returned from dinner, a strong thunderstorm announced its presence and it stayed with us for some time.

The morning was clear and we drove. We drove and drove, out of the Rocky Mountains and onto the Great Plains, from the plains to the Alleghenys all the way to Philadelphia. We passed the St. Louis Arch at midnight, dawn came in Indiana, and we made it to my parent’s house at 7 o’clock that evening. Thirty-five hours of driving. We would rest up for a day or two, get ourselves readjusted to the real world, then head up to New York.

July 24, 2006

Today we were heading from the people-packed Bryce Canyon to the relatively deserted Capitol Reef National Park in central Utah.

Much of this trip is along Utah route 12, which dips in and out of the northwest corner of the large Grand Staircase-Escalante National Monument. This newly designated monument comprises some of the last truly desolate places in the lower 48 states. With names like Dark Canyon Primitive Area and Death Hollow Wilderness Area, I will readily admit I feel a sense of mystique here.

Mel really wanted to go to a place here called Grand Gulch Primitive Area. After dialing it up on the web and in Google Earth, I found that it was miles from anything. There is a 50-mile dirt road that traverses the barren land from the town of Escalante to Hole-in-the-Rock on the Colorado River and Lake Powell. Once at the turn off for the gulch, days of hiking await you. Unfortunately, we didn’t have the equipment or the car for this, but someday I hope to see this remote wilderness.

What we did see was a lot of desert lowland interrupted by small towns every 25 miles. With no sign of grocery stores or gas stations in most of these towns, I was left wondering, as I do in many parts of the west, what people do when they want food or, god forbid, some entertainment.

This first picture is just south of the Escalante River. The amateur geologist in me says these are petrified sand dunes, but I don’t know for sure. The road ahead glides over the exposed sandstone floor, where soil is largely absent.

Overlook in Escalante Nat’l Monument

After passing the Escalante River, we climbed into the Dixie National Forest along the steep Boulder Mountain and Aquarius Plateau, the highest plateau in the U.S., with over 50,000 acres over 11,000 feet. We ascended the steep side of the plateau and, once on top, comfortably drove through the lush, forested oasis for some time. To my surprise, it began to rain, making the harsh, sandy, oven-like earth from which we came all but forgotten. Up here deer frolic and squirrels dart about happily ignorant of what lies below.

But, I knew our stay in this wonderful, green mountaintop was temporary, for Capitol Reef lies among the hot sandstone below. Soon, we quickly (and by quickly I mean a speedy roller coaster ride down a 14% grade) descended the plateau and landed in Torrey, Utah, about 4,000 feet below. Capitol Reef was just a few miles to the west. Near the park, I snapped this photo showing one of the “steps” in the huge Colorado Plateau.

Heading toward Capitol Reef Nat’l Park, just outside Torrey, Utah

We arrived at the park only to discover that we had no cash. Adding insult to injury, when we inquired about availability in their campground, we were practically laughed at. We are off the beaten path now, a fact that would only become astonishingly obvious to us later in the day.

Having humbly received word that the campground was not likely to fill up, we headed back to Torrey in search of cash. Torrey is not large. It has 171 inhabitants and covers an area of 0.4 square mile. We were given a list of locations of the three cash machines in Torrey. First on the list was the newly-built chain motel outside of town.

“I don’t know who keeps sending people down here for cash.” was the frustrated response.

We drove “downtown” and stopped in the Chuckwagon, a modern day general store that had the highest possibility of possessing an ATM. Sure enough, a small ATM was hidden in the corner. When I requested $80, it balked and spit out a receipt that just read “system error 0100.” This repeated again for $60 and for $40 and, had I not been so desperate, I would have moved on, but who knew how far the next ATM would be? I tried one last time with $20, and this worked. My cynicism led me to initially believe that the ATM only disbursed money in $20 intervals so they could collect more fees. However, this theory was proven wrong when the following person behind me was hoping for cash and got none—the machine was out of cash. And, because that appears to be the only cash machine in town, that meant that the entire town was out of cash. We had snagged the last $20 in town!

July 22—24, 2006

After leaving the relative tranquility of Great Basin, we were now in the thick of vacationers the world over at Bryce Canyon National Park. People flock here for good reason; the countryside offers spectacular views of red rock formations that emerge from mostly grassy and sometimes pine-covered hills.

We arrived in the afternoon, almost twelve years to the day since my last visit. In that time, the area has undergone what I can only describe as a controlled explosion. I recall Ruby’s Inn as a pleasant, perhaps even quaint, place just outside the park’s boundary. It has grown into a tacky, but necessary, roadside attraction. Necessary for the grocery store, gas, and restaurant. Tacky because of the miniature golf, tepees, old-west-style strip mall, go-cart track, helicopter tours, swimming pool, and the rodeo shows (although the latter is forgivable). Matters are made worse by an excess of tourists who clog the streets and stores, Americans mixing with French mixing with Germans mixing with Mormons.

Thankfully, once inside the park, the tranquility returns. We set up camp and headed out to Bryce Point. It was about 5 in the afternoon and rain was to the north and south of us. This is the path to Bryce Point. It sits atop a ridge that drops off on either side and leads us to the overlook. Many people were too scared to go down to the point, for the Earth drops off on either side of the narrow path. I proceeded down the path, in my sandals no less.

Heading down to Bryce Point.

Looking down from Bryce Point. The capped feature in the middle of the frame is called the alligator. One day, this cap will erode, exposing the hoodoos beneath. Hoodoos are the finger-like rock towers that decorate the park.

The view from Bryce Point. Can you sopt the alligator?

Mel and I at Bryce Point

July 23, 2006

The following morning, we set out to hike into the canyon. We parked at Bryce Point, then hiked the Rim Trail for a few miles. This view from the rim is near Inspiration Point.

Hiking along the Rim Trail

A zoom into one of the tree-covered canyons over 1,000 feet below. If you look hard enough, you can see segments of the trails that cross the canyon floor.

Another hoodoo rim shot

Mel with a fine hoodoo background

When I visited 12 years ago, I snapped a picture of this tree. At the time I was not sure if it would make it given its perilous position. It has fared well and has changed remarkably little.

A tree clings to the precipice at Sunrise Point.

Having descended into the canyon, we were treated with spectacular views of the rim and rock formations. Here are some windows in the distance.

Distant windows in a towering rock wall.

Of course, once you descend into the canyon you must climb out at some point. We had taken on a lot and the climb back up to Bryce Point was the most challenging hike of the trip. Perhaps because of the length of the hike (about 8-10 miles), or the fact that I didn’t eat enough that morning. Finally, we made it back to the car and spent the remainder of the day getting a much needed shower and relaxing at camp.