Overcoming stressful situations.

Dixie National Forest BLM

Such a quiet location can only result in a peaceful sleep, and with the air comfortable and the night dark, we slept like babies in the Dispersed Camping in Dixie National Forest. It was wonderful. But now, not wanting to lose too much of the day, we decide over a glass of juice while exploring the vista just behind our camper, that there is no reason to delay, and we should just get on the road right away. We want to take advantage of such wonderful sunny weather, and so we batten the hatches so the dishes don't fly all over the place(it's been known to happen), and we drive to Bryce Canyon National Park, arriving before event the visitor's centre is open!

Hiking 'round the world!

We park at Sunrise point and sit down to have a hearty breakfast, then get our gear prepared for the hike. Mario has found a good combination trail that will lead us down, into the canyon via the "Queen's Garden" trail, between all of these hoodoos that the park is known for, and then back out at Sunset Point. You can imagine what THAT is known for! So we depart from Sunrise point, and head down winding sloped trails in between towering red hoodoos, columns of sandstone created by years of wind erosion. They are always impressive to look at, and it's a fun game to try and name them as we hike. After all, many have done so before, and there is no end to the named rock formations that surround us. In fact, the trail we get to at the bottom of the canyon, the "Queen's Garden" is named for Queen Victoria, who's likeness can be spied in a nearby rock formation. 

Here comes the storm!

Worryingly, as we descend, we notice a large black storm front crawling its way a cross the sky above us. I checked the weather before we departed, and there was no rain, nor storms forecasted for the area. So we didn't bother packing our rain gear, including the dry bag I bought specifically to hide my camera in. And as we hit the bottom of the canyon, the cold wind picks up, and around us, hikers stop to pull out raincoats. Well, not everyone - some got caught up like we did and have brought only water bottles. Soon, a smattering of big, cold, drops fall from the sky and people pick up their walking pace.

Two bridges

We continue on, knowing that the only REAL way out of the storm is out of the canyon. We don't rush, mind you, wanting to enjoy the hike anyways, and we've never melted from getting a little wet. Towards the opposite side of the canyon, two natural bridges have formed in the space between the hoodoos, and it's here that we begin the climb back out of the canyon. Some of the trail has recently been washed away, and piles of fallen brick from retaining wall are stacked neatly along the trail. Another trail host a crew of workers, chipping away at stone to form new stairs and structures. These parks are always being worked on, making sure that their legacy remains for many future generations, and it's nice to see the work being done here today.

We make it back to the camper with minutes to spare, and the rain falls again, this time harder and more sustained, so we take this as a sign to have some lunch, then continue the drive through the park. Bryce Canyon is a long and narrow park, and the road reflects this, so we drive far into the area, stopping at various viewing point along the way. We get out to look, but the rain has set in and the clouds dropped, so there are less spectacular vistas to be seen. At the end of the road, we hop out and hike out to Rainbow Point, and the rain lets up just in time for us to enjoy the short loop before returning to the comfort of our little campervan sanctuary. A cup of coffee and we are on our way - though the park has been fun, we are moving on to new adventures, and have quite a bit of driving ahead of us. 

This is where things get trying. Mario plugs in the location of our campsite for the night, a BLM site near Arches National Park, and chooses the most economical option for directions. Who DOESN'T want to save on gas, right? We head out, get distracted by beautiful vistas or maybe the radio, make a wrong turn, have to back track. A small hiccup, but soon we are on the right route. I pay close attention to the map, watching for upcoming turns in between watching the views go by. It really is a fantastic drive, too. First we head through a twisty, turny valley, then by some small towns, then through a wide open canyon that reminds me of something I once saw in Iceland. There are pastures, but the cows are roaming free - we catch a few coming WAY to close to the roadway, and I try to shoo them away. Eventually we will follow these sinewy backroads all the way to the interstate, and then onto the national Park. Mario watches the gas, which we checked before leaving, and had more than enough to get us to our destination, but all of these mountain climbs use up more fuel than necessary, and we can't get to the highway fast enough...

And then we hit the junction with the I-70, and it is absolutely desolate, and panic sets in. A quick check confirms that the nearest gas stations are back a ways, or all the way in Green River, another hour or so down the road. And the meter on the dash seems to be reading a bit too close to the mileage needed for our taste. The next hour flows through a mesmerizing landscape of rainbow-colored canyons, glowing buttes, a sunset vista to die for, but we are too concentrated on the gas gauge ticking its way down to nothing, and faster than the miles are shaving off our trip. Mario grips the wheel with such determination, it makes me nervous, but all sorts of scenarios are running though my head, too. And then we see the light, in the form of a warning for truckers to test their breaks, as we will be descending off of this plateau at a 6% grade. And we both watch with glee as the miles per gallon jumps to 99.99, and our estimated miles left triples. In that moment, I think we both knew we would make it out of this emptiness and back to civilization, and I think I even let out a little shriek when I spot the red and green neon of the Love's Service Centre.  

Yup, that how much gas is left.

The sigh of relief was audible when Mario slid out of his seat and opened the gas cap to fill up the tank, and we both decided right then and there that we had had enough driving for the day. We feel safe and secure sleeping in the parking lot, and there is nothing better to decompress after an hour of driving through sheer panic than a long, hot shower, and Love's has that too. So we finished our evening not in a beautiful BLM campsite on a plateau overlooking Arches National Park, but in a service centre parking lot, clean, relaxed, and eating a massive bowl of pasta while seated at a picnic table in the dog park. All is right with the world again.

Sunset - a ray of hope at the Love's gas station