As Jenn has already told (and shown) you all, Zion was a lovely place. Majestic, multi-colored stone monoliths loomed over a narrow, cotton wood dotted canyon floor as the whispering Virgin River snaked it's way along the sandy bottom. Unlike the wide open Yosemite Valley, Zion had an intimate, almost sacred feeling as if one were in an ancient cathedral. We found ourselves speaking in hushed tones and moving quietly so as not to disturb the atmosphere.
Only one night in Zion. One chance to watch the cliffs turn red at sundown and rosy gold at dawn, then on the road again. The trip through Zion to Bryce was an adventure in tunneling. Two, count 'em-two, very narrow and vertically challenged tunnels cut "out of the living rock" along Highway 9 made for an interesting drive. The pitch darkness was relieved by occasional holes in the tunnel wall. These "windows" provided light, a quick view of the countryside and relief for panicking claustrophobics.
Highway 9 from Zion to Mount Carmel was a fabulous, twisting ride through soaring mountain tops and deep canyons of surprising colors combinations. Cream toppled over and mixed with rusty reds, ocher sat very happily next to blue grays and then out of nowhere, lavender and jade green! All of this beautifully framed by gigantic, deep green pines and fir.
It was all so beautiful, we constantly pulled over at the first opportunity, jumped out of the truck and frantically raced about snapping photos. All this was done without warning. Poor Jenn must have been quite exhausted by our antics.
As we wound our way north along Highway 89 out of Mount Carmel, we finally spied the signs for Bryce Canyon. It was a right turn on to Highway 12 from 89(Jim only got lost once), then about 5 miles down through ranch land, a few very small towns where there were more junk cars than residents, and past a line of dark mountains, when we came to a sharp right turn and the mountains opened up. We were nearly blinded by the color.
Red Canyon, appropriately named, a fiery red orange in the bright sunlight, made the Valley of Fire look like an ugly step sister. Not only were the colors deeper, more pronounced, but the lush vegetation and brilliant bright blue sky intensified the reds. With many an "ooh" and "aah" and snapping of shutters, we wound our way through the canyon and the ten miles towards Bryce. Bryce proved to be something else entirely.
I'm not sure what I expected. Certainly we had seen the photos and read all the brochures, but nothing really came close to the real thing. As the ranger explained, Zion ran along the bottom of the canyon, quiet and close, while Bryce was at the lofty top and a whole different experience. Top indeed! At an altitude of 6,500 to well over 9,000 feet, Bryce Canyon played in the clouds.
We found a lovely campground among the Pondarosa Pines. North Campground had lots of large, drive through sites. Unfortunately no electricity and the bathrooms, though heated with flush toilets, had no showers. But the sites were big enough to share, so we did, for two nights. Bryce would not be rushed.
We quickly set up camp (the trailers made this sooooo easy), jumped into the truck and headed out for an afternoon of exploration. First stop: visitor's center where Jim commiserated with the ranger while Jenn hunted down her colored bandannas. There was only one main road in the park, with several smaller roads leading to spectacular viewpoints. Jim decided to drive out to the farthest point and then slowly wide our way back, hitting all the sights along the way. We drove south on the main park road out to Rainbow Point at the very end of the road - 9,115 feet of elevation and what a view!
Words cannot do it justice and photos merely offer a pale copy of Bryce. Rainbow point was about a quarter mile or more across and everywhere you looked, panoramic views stretched for miles and miles until they melted into the horizon. Everywhere we looked soaring spires of cream and rosy pink bunched up against ruddy, jagged cliffs and mounds of pasty white limestone that looked for all the world like piles of cottage cheese. Then out of nowhere the edge would drop off into nothingness and open up the view to miles of canyon land all lavender and purple in the distance.
After some time at Rainbow Point, we slowly headed back via the other viewpoints. Each point offered a different view, from small box canyons peppered with arches to grand vistas. But the best was yet to come.
We took the road out to Bryce Point, parked the truck and, flanked by the setting sun, walked down the path to the overlook. Hundreds and hundreds of red-orange spires, rows and rows of them lined up like soldiers at attention, stood in a semi-circle: an enormous coliseum in ruins. Winding through the spires and separating them from each other were huge pines nearly as tall as the spires themselves. The green of the pine gave the stones an almost soft edge and the sunset enhanced the colors that ran from cream to pink to blood red. Gorgeous.
Exhausted, we slowly headed back to camp. We made a short side trip to the park store to check out the only showers in town and do a bit of shopping. Jenn found some good quality camping slacks, while Jim snatched up a beautiful Pendelton blanket at half price and I finally found my perfect camping hat. Back to the camp for a great dinner, even better camp fire and some quality star gazing. We stayed up late chatting and finally headed in for a good, long sleep (aided by exhaustion). Tomorrow Jim had big plans.
And it is 6:04 PM California time and I haven't fixed dinner yet. We will return tomorrow.
Same Bat-Time, same Bat-Channel. Or maybe not-my boy wants to take me to the movies.
Till then,
Camp On.
Jim and Sue
