Bryce Canyon: 7.4.20
A lot of ground was covered while at Bryce Canyon.
The first stint of our camping/hiking misadventure started the first day that we got to the campsite. Once salutations were exchanged, inquiries about the long drive were satisfied, food was had, camp was set up, and a loose plan for the rest of the day made, it began to rain. And not just a cute "aww nice little summer drizzle." Oh, no. This was very much so a good, hard, down pour. Not torrential or anything comparable to Biblical, but certainly not a warm fuzzy "aww how delightful." So, now with camp soaked and what we thought our dinner on the fire destroyed, we sought refuge in the truck and periodically went to check the fire and our food. Surprisingly, the fire was going strong and our food was cooking just fine without issue. Luckily, we were making one of our favorite camping meals (chicken, potatoes, carrots, onions, garlic, and spices) that was fortified by several layers of tinfoil. Tin foil, never go camping without it. Now I know that may sound like sarcasm, but in this particular case, totally not.
We made the best of a less than ideal situation. The food turned out perfect. It was rather nice eating in the comfort of the truck warm, laughing, and observing what was going on around us. The rain last about an hour and a half and didn't take up much of our evening. We then go out of the car to re-situate our tents and set up. The day had finally come. Our poor 15 year old tent was no longer able to weather the storm. In part, totally our fault because we did not secure the rain shield for the roof, but, in our defense, there was no sign of rain when we were first setting up. Everything in the tent was soaked.
Plan B and first variation to our misadventure (and all within the first few hours of arrival): we will venture to Sunset Point do a quick evening stroll/hike, and take all of our soaking wet junk to a hotel and pretend we were all in high school again, sharing a room on some great adventure without parents. We did exactly that.
Sunset Point was impressive. The spindly catawampus rock structures were eerily intriguing. I became fixated on how long a natural creation such as this must have taken, and, what contributing factors (speed of water, friction, wind, animal contact, disintegration, mineral composites, expansion and restriction of water/ice) specifically influenced certain types of cuts, holes, bows, dips, trenches, etc. Don't get me started on the coloration. I will give you the cliff notes (see what I did there?) it followed a similar process as above. Purposeful wondering down rabbit holes is my forte.
The next day, we drove into another part of Bryce Canyon, Tower Bridge Trail. From the hotel, this was a straight shot. Easy to get to, no traffic, and no difficulties entering.If you are already an avid hiker that goes to the National Parks or is a son to be aspiring explorer, I definitely recommend getting the National Park Annual Pass. It pays for itself after one use and is incredibly cheap, $80. You can get yourself one here (https://shop.usparkpass.com/products/america-the-beautiful-national-park-pass). We got there early in anticipation of crowds and heat. This proved fruitful because parking was ample and there were very few people on the trail.
We parked at the general store. According to the All Trails app, Tower Bridge Trail is a 3.4 mile out and back loop. When I tracked it, it was a little bit closer to 4 miles. It was perfect weather; mid 80s, no people around, open sky, and barren trails decorated with the accustomed hoodoos, conifer trees, and just enough birds to contrast with the azure sky to remind me that this is not a painting and I am, in fact, in real life and not merely living vicarious through epic shots by National Geographic. The hike began at a vista that was paved. The hike was paved for about 30 feet and then it transitioned into a nicely manicured somewhat skinny path. Not skinny to the point where one would need goat-like agility and foot precision, but, also not one that is wide enough to carelessly saunter and do pirouettes in rapid succession flailing about. I suppose if I needed to put a conservative measure on it, the path at its widest was about 5 feet.
As we walked down in the canyon, there was significant shade, but none of it mattered when looking up the eventual cliffs once we got into what may have been considered the esophagus of the canyon. Jagged. Weathered. Deliberate. There was nothing inherently calming, inspiring, or enchanting about the view. Not to say that it was not impressive or beautiful, but, for me, there was nothing that left me hoping to never leave. It was a peculiar moment because during most encounters and interactions with nature regardless of uniqueness or benignity, I generally am taken aback for a moment and have a sense of reflection or moment of pause where I genuinely am completely and utterly engrossed in what I am experiencing. So I guess, to have an anticlimactic moment, was, in fact, a moment. Unexpected and aberrant as far as I am concerned, but, I guess being in the thick of it, to have a experience that so deeply subdued any expectation, that was the lesson; even something that is loved and consistently produces a particular type of feeling, can falter, and is in actuality infallible. The parallels between nature's imperfection and the perfectly imperfect moment, was, undoubtedly, perfect.
We continued to the belly of the canyon and finally arrived to the Tower Bridge. The visually aesthetic contrast between the dry, grainy, bulky, light brown and reddish rock that was sun soaked with the lush green conifer trees with their brushstroke foliage. Even the bark had a richness to it, almost a wetness that opposed the dry rock. There were three layers; the obvious floor where we were at, the cliff, and then the Tower Bridge. It was interesting, though and something worth noting. While standing in the basin, specifically the dried up riverbed, the design of the cliff and the floor looked as though the cliff was emerging from the ground and pushing away from the floor and the floor was receding away from the top at a similar speed. There was not a perceived line that perfectly delineated that start and stop of the river bed and the cliff that lifted the Tower Bridge further away from us.
The journey back to the car was uneventful as one could imagine because there was no anticipation or climax. It was however, quit hot. We definitely were not being saved by shade. At this juncture of the venture, we encountered more people headed to the Bridge and wished them well because their return trip was going to be a mission. Once at the car, we bought more juices and waters from the general store and sat at some tables in the parking lot. Delightful.
Keep taking those detours!
