5/25/08 Capitol Reef National Park, Utah
5/25/08
Sunday
I’d like to say that the birds and sunlight in our tent woke us up but honestly it always seems to be the distant voices or cars of other campers that remind us that it is time to start the day. Although I slept well, I could have slept more. The eagerness of the day awaited us and we broke camp with heavy eyelids. We didn’t even bother with breakfast but headed straight into the car for our drive towards our next national park destination, Capital Reef National Park. We drove away from the unique colors of Canyonlands and through ranch areas and small towns. We stopped for gas in Green River, Utah, where we refilled our water bottles and collected some souvenir water from the mighty Green River. Now this was not the place to have car trouble. Green River apparently is one of the melon capitols of the USA. Once on the interstate, we were met with signs that read, “Next services 150 miles.”
Soon we were back in canyon country, this time with tall red walls of rock that reminded me a bit like Zion NP, where I visited years ago. The difference was that we drove parallel to a river that led us into Capitol Reef National Park. With our usual excitement we stopped at the entrance sign and took photos by balancing our cameras on a nearby branch. We can be such dorks! The river that welcomed us was the Fremont River, named for the famous explorer John C Fremont. Apparently the river allowed for fertile lands in between the canyons and the Mormons settled the area for farming in the 1880’s. They established the community of Fruita, comprised of 8-10 families, each with 10-14 children, and found their livelihood from growing fruit and selling them to local communities. The remains of the orchards, a one room school house (closed just in 1942), a settler’s cabin ( a 12 x12 room where 13 people slept! Many slept outside apparently), and farm were still preserved. Now, the orchards welcomed deer, and when in bloom, the fruit were available for picking and purchasing by tourists. A local farm still baked pies from the fruit and homemade breads and sold them to visitors (of course we bought some!) at the historic Guifford House, home to the area’s only polygamist in the 1800s. Isa also bought a small loaf of bread. In the car, Isa put peanut butter on it and served me a sandwich- our modest lunch! The Guifford House was quaint and brought us back to the frontier days.
In our usual routine, we headed first for the Visitor Center to watch the 20 minute introductory video and inquire about the best sights to see in our limited few hours we had there. Capital Reef was so named because of the large white sandstone domes that surrounded the park. Early explorers stated that these domes reminded them of the Capitol building in Washington DC. A “reef” is apparently a collection of rock walls that surround water. Hence , the name Capital Reef. Geologically, it is famous for being a “waterpocket fold”- an area of mesa that folded onto itself millions of years ago and formed a pocket that created a waterway and fertile ground.
We embarked on the famous scenic drive- 25 miles round trip - that took us towards Capitol Gorge, a scenic area with deep narrow canyons engulfing a small road. We drove by a settler’s farm, several washes (where flash floods were a risk) and famous rock formations boasting unique shapes and colors. We studied the geology guide we purchased for the ride and were amazed that the first layer of rock we saw, the red Moenkopi formation, was 550 million years old.
The final stretch of this road was not paved and we drove at 10-15 mph with some trepidation with our already challenged tires. Within moments we were surrounded by canyon walls several stories high, red in color and immense in time and space. At every turn a new view took our breath away and made us feel smaller and smaller in our little Honda as we were engulfed in natural beauty. At last we made it to the parking lot and trail head for the Capitol Gorge Trail, a 1.5 mile trail in a dried creek bed that took us to three natural “tanks”- large depressions in huge rocks that collected rainwater and served as water basins. It was another trail of some scrambling. The sun was out and the rocks bright red. I huffed and puffed, enjoying the challenge of the hike. As we walked through the creek bed, we passed the Pioneer Registry, an area on a rock wall where early settlers etched their names into the rock. Apparently this dried creek served as the ONLY road through this region in the 19th and early 20th century. The earliest pioneer’s inscription was from 1888. Unfortunately, reckless visitors whose desire to be special invoked them to scratch into the rock, made it difficult to distinguish which signatures were original settlers’ etchings versus etchings of vandalism. For example we saw the usual etchings: JP + SP 1983. What a disgrace. Everyone’s ego wants to be immortalized! What ever happened to “take only pictures, leave only footprints?”
We passed rocks with unique holes and crevices and thought about how my friend Stacey would love to rock climb here. We passed many young families with numerous children and assumed they were Mormon. We also passed pictographs on the wall, reminders of the earliest inhabitants of this area, the Fremont Indians. (Personally I don’t know why they’d name an Indian tribe after a white explorer).
We rushed back from our drive to attend a ranger led talk on petroglyphs at the nearby site of many. We could see high on the cliff numerous primitive art etchings, many which had animal and hunting symbolism. Again, these were believed to be from the Fremont Indians, who were unique from other native peoples of the Colorado Plateau because of their clay figurines and artistry that they left behind. For our final hike, we headed to Hickman’s Bridge, which was another arch, named after one of the men who worked to make Capitol Reef a national park. The trail was beautiful again, and led to grand overlooks onto the many white capitol domes. The trail was a perfect combination of smooth sand, boulder stairs and scrambling over large boulders. Below the trail the rushing Fremont River, made enticing gurgling sounds and shined in the sunlight, surrounded by fresh green aspen trees, cottonwoods and tamarisks (an invasive species). How I would have loved to sit on the banks of that river for a while. But no…. we had no time to sit, as usual!
After a great hike of sun and sweat, my foot was killing me. But no pain no gain! This was how I would get stronger! I am sure the doctor would question why my cast had a reddish hue. My boot was all about to collapse, so thank goodness we had a roll of duct tape in the car!
We headed back to the car and departed from Capitol Reef, stopping at one final viewpoint, Panoramic Point, which allowed us to view the park in the distance and all the other mountain ranges surrounding it. Again, what vastness, what emptiness, due to such inhospitable land. The Mormons are indeed a hearty bunch.
We drove into the small town of Torrey outside of the park, and since our stomachs were grumbling, we bought food including two of the most bland and old burritos I have ever eaten. Don’t do Mexican in Utah! The snickers ice cream sandwich we devoured made up for the gross burrito. We bought other essentials and looked forward to a full meal later in the evening.
We drove on Hwy 21 towards Nevada, hoping to find a campsite somewhere. Within a few hours, sunset was approaching. We entered the town of Beaver with its small town feel and Mormon churches. About 10 miles from the town, we found Minersville State Park, which welcomed fisherman for its lake and campers. Thank God! We drove into the campsite to find dozens of kids on bicycles, RVs, and loud music blaring amidst pick up trucks and BBQ pits. Uh oh… I thought. I hope it wasn’t a white trash campground. We had had horrible experiences with drunken folks in a WT campground in Napa Valley years ago. But this was Utah- famous for family values and non-drinking Mormons.
We found a site- the last one available- and quickly set up tent and stove before the evening night came upon us. Before us was a mountain range and a broad lake, made dark by evening shadows. We could hear birds on the lake still. The sound of laughing and screaming children echoed in the campground.
The campsite was the fanciest we had seen yet- quite a contrast from the one at Canyonlands that had no water and only a pit toilet. This campground had private enclosures with picnic tables for each site, a cupboard, electric lights above the shelter, running faucets, and even an electric outlet under each picnic table! The bathrooms, though far away, had showers (hot water was not working) and flush toilets.
Next to us was a family with an RV, a huge Coleman tent and three teenage boys. As we prepared our stubborn charcoals, the father offered to help us by pouring his lighter fluid all over it. While we waited for our food the mother brought us pickled eggs and later, left over BBQ chicken from their feast.
“Let’s do what the early pioneers did and get to know each other in the warmth of a campfire,” they said as they created a huge bonfire. Isn’t this so true, with this unknown family sharing their food with us? Not much has changed in 200 years… We enjoyed warm conversation. Apparently their teenage son had just graduated from high school and the family was on a 4 day fishing/camping trip to celebrate. They were the kindest and most generous people, although the father did remark how much he disliked California (he lived there once) because the “pace of life was too fast.” I can’t argue with him about the pace of life. It seemed to follow us even on our vacation. I was wrong to make assumptions about this “white trash” campground. I have never met any camping neighbors so generous and kind. In gratitude for their kindness, we gave one of our Fruita pies to the boys. It’s not a true gift unless it feels like a sacrifice to give it up.
We retired by 10:20 pm, with our stomachs full of canned beans, obscene amounts of sausage, and grits, plus the delicious food from our neighbors. We had sweet azuki bean porridge and mochi for desert- the last of our Japanese deserts we packed for our trip. It rained at night and the wind howled, but Ana and I were cozy and warm in our waterproof tent. How fortunate!
We slept as deeply as two exhausted and active women could out in the middle of nowhere.
We hope you all can imagine camping and enjoying these parks with us. We truly appreciate your patience to read all of our blog!
Hugs and love to you all,
ANA