Sucking Sea Water and Sun Sodden Schlepping

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We were departing for Gallows Bay, St. Croix from the Blyden Ferry terminal in St. Thomas ( a 40 mile trip) and arrived there with a fair amount of time to spare before our three pm departure. The terminal  is definitely NOT fancy and decidedly HOT.  We parked ourselves on the uncomfortable wooden benches and I could not help thinking this is more akin to a greyhound bus station in the wrong part of town rather than what  my conception of a Caribbean  cruise terminal would be like.

The QE IV is a high speed catamaran and as it plowed the Caribbean Sea on this relatively calm journey (per the captain, the swells were mild), I was grateful for this relative mildness. The slap of the water on the windows was very enlivening and definitely not of the sea sickness level.  The vibrant  soundtrack on this voyage was a mixture of the hum of the engines, the occasional creak, and the thump, splat,  slap of a sheet of water  as it flings itself against the window.  WHAP and then it dribbles down the glass. Repeat for two hours.

Docking was at  the Gallows Bay terminal in Christiansted ! By the time we collected our luggage and made our way roadside, there was not a livery service vehicle to be seen.  We needed to pick up a rental car at the airport and had decided that since taxis charge per person, it was best that only Nick and I make our way there.  Having had minimal luck ordering a taxi, the ferry captain arranged  for an open-air taxi, aka “safaris” to  come.  Before long a regular taxi showed up and being opportunistic we hopped in it as there was no guarantee when  the hypothetical safari vehicle  would arrive.

I have had a Caribbean dreamscape over the years about  it being a paradise  in which I would be immersed in the salt-air, my skin kissed by  the trade winds, and floating  in turquoise waters above  technicolor reef just offshore…  a true tropical paradise.  But upon arrival,  the sun was intense and I was immersed in steam bath humidity.  On the drive to the airport there were abandoned building, shuttered storefronts, crumbing facades, pot holed roads winding through scrubby vegetation… the scene definitely was not of the picture perfect postcard  or the polished resort variety.  The driver took us through the industrial area further dashing any preconceived notion I had about this being a carefree tropical island of unsurpassed beauty. In the area of Limetree Bay was  the remaining skeleton of the original Hess oil massive refinery which went “dead” in 2021 because of toxic emissions, health concerns, foul odors, EPA violation resulting in  devastating losses of jobs and an economic catastrophe .

Picking up the rental car, a 4-door Jeep Wrangler was seamless and Nick soon was behind the  drivers wheel and  getting used to the driving on the left-hand side of the pot-holed roads.  I thought getting a jeep was basically a lark but in actuality a necessity given the roads. I had hope his long term memory of driving on the left in Australia was an asset and would kick in but since,  unlike in the English tradition,  with the steering column on the right , the steering column was in the normal American style on the left side adding another challenge on these narrow, rough and unpredictable roads. 

Finally, gathering up the family at the ferry terminal, we made out way to our VRBO  coined an “Island Vibe Retreat” in  “Judith Fancy, ” a gated residential community built on the 18th century Judith Fancy Sugar Plantation. It was named after Judith, a free woman of color, and considered a prized and “stylish” manor i.e fancy .  Ruins of the old sugar mill remain and were visible from the courtyard of the house. Similar ruins of many of the old rum and sugar plantations exist throughout the island. 

This was a true Caribbean style indoor/outdoor living space with  a large courtyard for dining .  Off of  this open-air central courtyard were  3 bedrooms with en-suites, (the only air conditioned rooms)  a  living room, dining room, kitchen. and laundry room all with their own separate locks and  keys.  From the front it would seem that this was a secure fortress but in reality one could access all of the rooms by going around the side or back. Hence, Luke became the keeper of the keys and had the sacred responsibility of opening and locking every single room every time we went out. Given that Luke can be highly anxious and extra cautious this job suited him well. A favorite spot was a rooftop patio, with its gentle breezes in the evening after the sweltering sun vanished below the horizon.  

However, the main rooms did not scream calypso or reggae vibes and definitely were not of the Caribbean vibe. A striking painting that graced the living room definitely burst with color and emotion but in my mind did definitely not “fit” the Caribbean setting and I found it slightly unsettling and unnerving with its splattered streaked paint. It would best suited for a Miami art museum. I was relieved to spend all of my stay in the outdoor parts of the house as viewing it once was enough.

The premier event that I planned on St. Croix was a sailing and snorkeling excursion to Buck Island, described as a “marine garden” established by John F. Kennedy in 1961 and is designated a National Monument . It is a no-take marine protected area in the Caribbean Sea. Buck Island itself is physically protected by a flourishing elkhorn reef formed by elkhorn coral (branches fan out like the antlers of an elk and are brown in color.) With Captain Carl was at the helm, weathered by years of sailing under the Caribbean sun, and after an engine assisted sail out of the harbor on this 42-foot Trimaran (Teroro II), we sped towards our destination under sail power only. I note this because all the other companies going to Buck Island tend to use motorized vessels and I opted for the less polluting choice.

The sail was invigorating as Captain Carl pointed homes along a rocky headland, Pull Point,  including one home frequently visited by  Joe Biden that was owned by a longtime fiend of his  and another where the physicist Robert Oppenheimer often stayed with friends …plus other interesting trivia.  I would have been much more interested in learning about elkhorn coral and parrot fish than the vacation spots off famous people! The sea was various shades of blue and upon approaching Buck Island it took on that stunning turquoise color. Seems the recipe for this color palette is sunlight, water clarity, depth, and a white sandy floor! Anchoring on the western side of the Island, we would commence our first snorkeling adventure.

Our first stop was proximate to the underwater trail. Provided with snorkleing gear and with Captain Carl as our guide, we entered a shallow lagoon and followed a series of submerged plaques identifying surrounding marine life and coral formations. Sounds lovely and serene and it might well have been for the others. BUT, since I was not a skilled snorkeler, I was about to embark on a not so gentle glide through the water and definitely not an effortless and graceful adventure. My primary take away from this experience was definitely a lot of sputtering and choking on sea water.

Feeling quite fashionable in my mask and snorkel in my new swim togs, I finally managed to get the flippers on while bobbing around in the water and then, somehow miraculously, I was able to get the mask on my face and relatively water tight, thus avoiding bathing my eyes in sea water. I followed our group and guide towards the trail and naturally I was trailing the group and trying to keep up, see what was below, and keep an eye out for the red and white life ring being dragged forward by Captain Carl. Every time I saw an underwater marker I had this unconscious need to peer at it closer and plunged my face deeper and of course sucked in vast amounts of sea water. Not once, lesson learned, but several time over the course of the course!. I was desperately trying to enjoy this journey through coral gardens, grottoes and a reef teaming with marine life but secretly was glad that I did not get lost in a coral cavern and made it back to the boat.

I had resurrected my trusty Olympus waterproof and shockproof camera so I would capture dazzling the underwater world of tropical fish and coral. Seems I was better a capturing butts and flippers than fish. As for the fish, they remained a a speck in the distance.

Subsequently, we then sailed over to Buck Island’s Turtle Beach and had about 1.5 hours to spend there. Not one for lying on the beach and not wanting a repeat that snorkel experience again this day, I opted for hiking the trail on Buck Island with Tasia, Nick, and Luke. Forewarned about a massive bees nest at the trailhead which we thankfully avoided. and after picking our way across slimy rocks, the hike was short (1.28 miles) but also challenging as it winds up a dry rocky hillside through native vegetation including cacti, sea grapes and turpentine trees. I was surprised by the feeling that I was hiking in a wild, Caribbean desert and dry forest, something I did not associate with tropical islands. And as with desert hiking, by the time I reached the overlook it looked like I had opted for the bathing on the beach option. The path was narrow and a bit rugged for my tendency to find every “trippin” rock and root”but I did stay upright. . It was replete with buzzing insects and hermit crabs toting around there borrowed shells. Turk’s Cap Cactus were of special interest named for its red “cap” that resembles a Turkish fez and the crown sporting small tubular pink flowers.

Atop, the reward was stunning views of the reef, resembling a necklace surrounding the Island, rolling hills and the distant shoreline of St. Croix.. What a contrast this day was with both hiking over this cactus studded Island and swimming in coral garden teaming with marine life.

It ended at the beach with a short walk back to Captain Carl’s salt-sprayed sailing craft and a breezy ride “home” to relax, enjoy a simple dinner in the outdoor dining area , and then a short walk to a beach access near our VRBO. I had hope to dip my toes in the water as I imagined a tropical sandy beach but found it was rocky, coral strew and draped with a thick mat of seaweed (sargassum) to wade through. Not tonight. The view by night though from the beach of St. Croix glowing across the water however was quite a lovely site.

Where the Streets are “Paved” with Roosters and Jewelry Stores

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Upon stepping off the plane at the Cyril E. King Airport in St. Thomas, I soon realized I was stepping into a different world marked by  warm salt-scented Caribbean air, a definitive culture,  and the  bustle of the port of Charlotte Amalie. With luggage collected, we took a ride share taxi from the airport to our hotel, the Windward Passage.   The ride  itself was the real beginning of the adventure as the driver quickly merged onto Waterfront  Drive staying to the left lanes since vehicles drive on the left of on the narrow roads of St. Thomas (remnants of the British Colonial past). Though a short drive,  we were  served up views of the Charlotte Amalie harbor, palm trees, colorful buildings that climb the hillsides, old colonial buildings, warehouses, narrow streets, and a harrowing closeness to other vehicles.

Our hotel for the one night here was the Windward Passage, an aging relic that has seen better days, situated along the harbor front just a short distance from the downtown area of shops and almost directly across from the Blyden Ferry terminal which we would be departing from on the morrow for St. Croix. The convenience is hard to beat as we could walk the short distance the next day hauling our suitcases to this terminal. No ride share of rental vehicle. So it proved to be adequate lodging and did not devour the whole checking account balance at $225.00 a nightly vs The Westin @ $612.00 or The Ritz-Carlton St. Thomas @ $1011.00. It has definitely seen many better days and would not have been a good choice had I anticipated a luxury Caribbean escape. NOT the case.

Convenience and expediency though is not of concern to my grandson Luke. Luke will devour the reviews for just about any property or activity we might encounter and of course focus mostly on the 0 or 1 star entries. From son Nick’s blog, as he recounted Lukes take: “But DAD! This one says that there were obvious prostitutes in the alley behind the hotel!” To make matters worse, according to Nick, their room was, as Luke quickly informed him, overlooking “Prostitute Alley. ” Of course the hotel was “dodgy” (one of his favorite words.).

Upon my arrival, the hoped for tranquil atmosphere was pre-empted by a bone jarring rhythmic thumping of calypso music spewed from a speaker in the rear alley. Once in my room it was of minimal consequence. I peered through the salt-encrusted sliding glass door at a baseball filed below and could have a slim view of the harbor if I stepped out on the not very useful narrow balcony which was not wide enough for a chair. But we settled comfortably in our room with its outdated decor, well worn furnishings, and worn carpets. Nick, Luke and Miriam were on the alley side and definitely decided to have their room moved mostly because of the music since it could have been quite interesting evening sideshow to observe the goings on in “Prostitute Alley” later.

We opted to go to “The French Quarter” for dinner and ate at the French Quarter Bistro serving a fusion of French, American , Caribbean and Creole dishes. Being in the French Quarter, I, by necessity, had to order French Onion Soup. I especially enjoyed the walk to and from this destination as it was partially along the waterfront area, a mixture of small shops and cafe’s, and an architectural shift to pastel home with wrought iron balconies. Of particular interest to Luke was the McDonald’s we passed in this area which did not look at all like any mainland McDonald’s . Perhaps an imposter????

We all (but Nick) headed back to the hotel. Nick headed out to explore the area which in my younger days would also have been something I would be doing as well but thought better of trying to keep up with my oldest “child” this evening who definitely follows in his mother’s footsteps.

The next morning Tasia and I headed out in search of a market to buy some makings for a healthy breakfast.  Much to my dismay the strong stomach which I boasted of in years gone by has been replace by someone else’s sensitive digestion system which now demands a healthy breakfast of oatmeal, banana, milk etc. unless I want to spend the day in search of public bathrooms. So we found a market a couple blocks away and headed back to the motel  to eat in our not so elegant room. Afterwards we met up with the Honimills (a nick name for Nick’s family) and we commenced our walking tour of the Charlotte Amalie tourist district. 

Of great fascination to me was the vibrant colors of the islands architecture with the red tiled roofs, pastel painted walls, arched doorways and the Danish shutters (wooden louvered window covers painted  in bold colors). . Historic Fort Christian, with its very distinctive red brick walls, is no longer needed to guard against pirates and raids by foreigners and thus has been repurposed as a museum. It is designated as a US National Historic Landmark and thus the requisite picture in front of it. Additionally, should I ever return to Charlotte Amalie, I learned that had I wanted a really old room instead of an aging worn out modern room, I might have stayed at the Hotel 1829 with its “real” vintage furnishings and decor.

Though there are many remarkable things to note about Charlotte Amalie, such as the historic Fort Christian, the scenic harbor, the Danish architecture, the most memorable for me is the “Jewelry Jungle. ” The downtown area was no salmagundi of one-of-a-kind specialty stores , where you can find unique creations and local products but a glittering gauntlet of jewelry stores with their diamonds rings , gold chains, gemstones, luxury watches … all nestled within their cases in air conditioned shops while their proprietors stand in the doorway beckoning one to step inside. I really only needed sunscreen or to invest in some cheap trinket emblazoned with St. Thomas on its exterior (the exact same trinket I bought on my last trip with the St. Louis Arch emblazoned on it). The man in the white guayabera shirt promised me the best price on diamonds in the Caribbean and his store had been voted #1 on the Island! I managed to escape his clutches and those of the 40 + jewelry hawkers on Main Street with pocketbook unscathed only to find myself tripping over the chickens and rooster which roam freely through the streets.

Having successfully escaped the bauble hustlers, I thoroughly enjoyed traversing the stone and concrete promenade that hugs the harbor and thus was protected by a four lane heavily trafficked thoroughfare.from the Charlotte Amalie sales force on the other side. There was but one floating city, the Carnival Venezia, with a 4000 passengers capacity . It seemed to me that the cruise goers were totally immersed in their pretend Piazza San Marco experience that there were a scant few on the streets .

We headed back into the cobble streets of the town for a thirst quencher and before long it was time to trudge back to the hotel, retrieve our luggage (from that dodgy hotel) and catch the 3:00 pm ferry to St. Croix. With about an hour before we needed to go to the ferry terminal,  we decided to take up residence in the hotel lobby.  Whether the multi-purposed porter, concierge, parking lot attendant did not want us loitering  in the lobby or perhaps he was grateful for the nice tip he received for storing our luggage, he bade us follow him to across the courtyard to the business center which had baskets of snacks (which we descended upon like vultures)  and chilled water.  Best of all were the electrical outlets so we could charge up our devices in case we got marooned at sea on the way to St. Croix during that “lengthy”  2 hour ride. 






No Fish on This Reef, Escalante Needs an Escalator, and Hoodoos Shooting Skyward

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I got on the road late morning from Gunnison CO and selected a longer but designated scenic highway to Arches National Park. With minimal traffic, I at times felt like I was the sole individual who preferred to drive scenic highways. There can be such joy in the journey and this day was joyful.

The route put me on Interstate 70 for about 40 miles and per usual I was grateful to get on a beautiful secondary road, one of those roads on my AAA maps marked with ………… designating it as awesome scenery. It would take me through Capitol Reef National Park and Grand Staircase Escalante National Monument. I had visited Capitol Reef in 2016 so opted for a cruise through its magnificence on the way to Bryce via Utah scenic byway 12, aka “Wild Roads.” Escalante was new territory.

Scenic Byway UT-24 (also named Capitol Reef Country Scenic Byway) is more than just a sneak preview to the equally scenic and incredible UT-12. From Hanksville to Torrey on the far side of Capitol Reef National Park, the panoramas and the artists’ palette that painted this area was splendorous. It seemed we had gone mostly from the red “hot” spectrum of colors to a “cold” array of the grey and chocolate hues of our nature world.

The scenery really been to pop around Hanksville, along the Route UT-24 . Factory Butte was grand and was a kaleidoscope of what might be termed as cold colors . Here there is a little something for everybody. Swing Arm City, near Caineville is an OVH recreational area which is intended for off-road vehicles (such 4×4, dune buggies, motocross bikes) but is open to all vehicles. I only drove in a few hundred feet ( there is no road marked) but it felt surreal and a bit like a lunar landscape, with the Factory Butte and the North Caineville Mesa on the horizon.

Heading into Capitol Reef, via the eastern entrance , the light blue, greenish-gray, and off-white tones of the sedimentary rocks was quite remarkable but I also found the solution cavities in these roc k surfaces ( known as honeycomb weathering) notable. These surface holes are caused by the weathering effects of wind, water, and ice but they are only surface.

But it wasn’t long before the vermillion, white, red and pink sandstone formations that are so prominent in most of the southwestern parks began appearing in grand style – one after another, like models on the runway strutting their stuff. Disappointedly , the scenic drive within the park was closed for road work but clearly there was still plenty of scenery..

Heading south from Torrey to Boulder Utah , it was a delight traveling on UT12, as the road ascended through the Dixie National Forest with numerous vista points along the route and to add a bit of fun, it was open range in which cattle are permitted to roamed. .. and that they did. It was 124 miles of scenic exhilaration. .

Once south of Boulder , the diversity of landscape again was evident as I began driving through Grand Staircase Escalante National Monument. This remote section of Utah is a vast and austere landscape with extensive expanses of grey-green photo-hungry rock-forms. I gladly obliged its photo thirst.

If you have followed my travels, you will certainly comprehend why this was “the magic kingdom” experience to satisfy my driving bliss which occurs when traveling twisting , curving roads with switchbacks and hairpin turns. The breathtaking overlooks, sweeping views, and steep inclines pushed my adrenaline into overdrive.

A stop at the Head of the Rocks Overlook was a must. The big sky views over the Grand Staircase Escalante National Monuments showcased this slick rock terrain in its fashionable shades of white, pink, vermillion, tan, chocolate , and grey.

I was in no rush to get to Bryce as I was staying in The Lodge at Bryce Canyon, on a mesa near the canyon rim, and hence no camp set-up or meal prep. I was DONE camping for this trip. Finally I pulled in around 6:30 feeling totally sated by the Capitol Reef and Grand Staircase smorgasbord. After the desk clerk arranged for a ground floor room (since I had been assigned 2nd floor with no elevator), I received all the necessary instructions including the time to go to Sunset Point for sunrise and Sunrise point for sunset. Figure that one out? After checking into my room, I decided on a brief walk along the canyon rim as the sun was beginning its downward slide.

Though I have visited and hiked in Bryce before, my first look was of enchantment and awe. I proceeded to dinner in the Lodge dining room (mediocre) and then a rest up for a fairyland adventure on the ‘morrow.

This rustic lodge like many of the other historic park lodges is constructed of milled timbers, steeply pitched roofs, and extensive stonework. There is the large lobby for socializing, stone fireplaces, and a large dining room. Unlike many NP Hotels, there was internet service but true to form no televisions in the room or cable service…all intended to promote socializing and experiencing the natural world..

If you can imagine rocks as a lyrical poem or dance between weathering and erosion, you might be imagining the process that creates these unique shafts of rock that grow skyward from the bottom of the basin in Bryce to the tip of the hoodoos. Hoodoo means to bewitch! These shafts are so enchanting that they evoked in me a steady stream of wonder and amazement at the deep reds, soft pinks, oranges and creams of these sentinels.

I had already decided I was not going to do a hike down into Bryce Canyon as at the altitude of 8000 feet the thin air was leaving me quite short of breath upon exertion. Brochures kept reiterating you will usually get down in 1/3 the time it takes you to climb up and out. I had hiked down many years ago and it was as magical then as it was today. At some point I would take an easy hike on the rim and focus on the views of “the amphitheater” later but first complete the scenic drive from the hotel out to Rainbow Point before it got too crowded. In retrospect, that was not a worry because there were relatively few cars on this day at any of the view points.

Sunset Point Elevation 8100 feet

Inspiration Point 8100

Bryce Point Elevation 8300 feet

Paria View Elevation 8175 feet

Fairview Point Elevation 8819 Natural Bridge 8627 Elevation

I was nearing the end of this scenic trek via motor car and feeling grateful for this halcyon day and the grandeur of this small but very unique section of our country. The final “push” was views from Ponderosa Point( elevation 8904); Rainbow Point (elevation 9115) ; Yovimpa Point; and a short 1.3 mile hike of the Bristlecone Loop at Rainbow Point.

On the drive back to the Lodge, I was also extremely thankful that so many presidents and congress have had the foresight to make conserving land a priority and thus bringing so much joy to like minded Americans who revel in immersing themselves into so much unspoiled wilderness. I hope I can pass on some of this awe and love to my grandchildren (my adult children already embrace the natural world. )

By far the most iconic section of the park, the Bryce Amphitheater ( so called as it is a bowl shaped area formed by the drainage of seasonal rains and melting snow) is home to the greatest concentration of the irregular rock spires called “hoodoos” and I had explored almost all of the viewpoints along the first 3 miles of the main road except for Sunrise Point. I headed towards the mercantile and visitors center before retreating to the Lodge until sunset and then I walked to the last viewpoint I would be visiting : Sunrise Point. This was another spiritual experience as the sun sank below the horizon behind us but lit up the sky before me.

The only glitch in this otherwise perfect adventure was getting lost in finding my way back to the Lodge’s Sunset Hotel where my room was located. I had stayed on the rim until almost dark and had meandered all the way to Sunset Point which I soon realized was a ways beyond my lodging. I somehow did not recognize the path leading to the lodging and was quite disoriented at first. It was quite dark by now. Once I took the time and got my bearings, checked the map (I always take a picture of it so it is stored on my phone, ), turned on my iPhone flashlight, and hopped on the bike path, I knew I would get “home.” iPhone saves the day! I have done remarkably well on this trip for being quite directionally challenged.

The next morning, it was time to head west and make a beeline for my Oregon home….with one more stop to briefly re-visit Great Basin National Park but not stay and camp as I had originally intended. That “beeline” would take three days. Route 12 took me through Red Canyon but even I balked at taking one more striking picture or red rocks. So I continued on through the Escalante Desert with the several low rise mountain ranges breaking up the vast expanse of relatively featureless desert.

Around three pm I reached the town of Baker in Nevada which was the entrance point to Great Basin National Park. It was early enough to take the drive up to Wheeler Peak which transitions from a massive expanse of the desert of sagebrush I just drove through to the treeless rocky peaks of the South Snake Range. As in several other parks, the drive to the final viewpoint of Wheeler Peak was closed for resurfacing.

With both towns and motels few and far between, I stopped in the town of Ely. Ely is known for the Great Basin National Park, the Lehman Caves… but the websites does not want us to forget that “one of the reasons why people travel to Ely…the gaming.” To game or not to game was the question I posed to myself in this town where I had my first opportunity to partake in Nevada’s gambling-free-for-all everywhere. Clearly gambling is not one of my addictions as my heart did not beat wildly at the thought of this opportunity. So I curled up in my motel, slept well, and headed towards Oregon on U.S. Highway 50 the next morning. Traveling westward from the Nevada border to Fallon (about 60 miles from Reno), US 50 passes through only two towns and one small city (Ely) between Fallon and the Utah state line, over 400 miles distant. It is thus known as The Loneliest Road in America. Rarely was the desert landscape was broken up, except by the Bonneville Salt Flats, a recreation area which is used for land speed racing.

The final day took me through the congestion of Reno and some massive road construction projects, and on into California on secondary roads through Susanville and to Mt. Shasta and the final stretch home on I-5.

I travelled 9642 miles solo through 24 states and 5 Canadian Provinces in 63 days: camped 29 nights though I had planned on more but incredibly awful weather change some of that; motels 21 nights ; and stays with family and friends 13 nights. I visited 9 national parks and completed my quest to finish visiting all 61 of the 63 National Parks in the contiguous states and Alaska. Get ready American Samoa and The Virgin Island for I will be there in 2025.

Should I Treat This Arch Delicately, a Sunless Black Canyon, and Wrathful Storms

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Having now spent three cushy nights in motels, it was time to quit babying myself and prepare to be back in the tent and camping.  Actually I am preferring my cozy sleeping bag and cot in the tent to a motel room and their pillow top beds — except when the rainfly leaks and I get rained on in the middle of the night. A stop at a grocery store on the way out was in order to have enough food for the next four nights of camping in national parks. After a resupply in Colorado Springs, I made my way out of town. and by now I was driving in Garden of the God’s territory  meaning towering red sandstone formations and landscape that became incrementally more beautiful the further southwest I traveled.

One of the downsides of traveling to the national parks now (or most areas as well) is that it is the “high tourist season” as well as the “high road construction season”. Quite often the two clash! Whether it is the turnpikes, interstates, or the secondary roads, there were not many stretches that I traveled where major road work wasn’t a huge barrier to maximizing quality time outside of my vehicle. I was in Colorado headed to the south rim of Black Canyon on the Gunnison National Park via Route 50  and had to wait almost an hour for a pilot car to lead a line of cars through the area being “refurbished.”  This of course was the time when the major road through Gunnison was also getting a shiny thick new layer of black asphalt and this provided a great olfactory experience of the aroma of fresh asphalt which had just been laid on the road about 100 feet from the campground. Most campsites were pretty squeezed but the one I had selected was quite roomy though I opted out of putting my tent on the area designated for a tent pad on the back of the site (more privacy) as it was clay and definitely would be a slick mess to slip and slide around on should it rain.

With many open site, up pulled a “loud family in training” right across from me, meaning there have been worse on this trip but they were practicing to compete for first place. In an amble about the campground I did not hear any other clearly audible conversation. It wasn’t even the ongoing noise that annoyed me (one comes to expect it) but soon the dad strung up several strings of lights running off a portable power pack (no electricity in this campground) . It wasn’t quite as bright as the Vegas Strip , but Black Canyon of the Gunnison National Park has been certified as an International Dark Sky Park due to its exceptional skies and lighting practices. This guy was putting so much wattage into the air , that it definitely compromised the quality of star gazing that evening.

Is it all in the name? It’s moniker ” Black Canyon” is not derived from the color of it’s rocks but because the canyon is so narrow and so deep, reaching a depth of 2,722 feet, that sunlight barely reaches parts of the gorge each day (33 minutes), thus giving off an almost-spooky aura. With such an ominous designation, you might guess it is one of the least known and one of the lesser-visited national parks in the country. It ranks 47 out of 63 overall in annual visits. The Great Smokey Mountains has 13.3 million annual visits whereas Gunnison has 357,00

The next morning, I awoke to the patter of rain on tent but, but fortunately it stopped relatively soon so I did not have to figure out Plan B.   I was able to quickly get breakfast and get on the road.  I arrived at the already crowded visitor’s  center and made a plan to drive the 7 mile south rim road and explore most of its different views. But first I wanted to hiked a portion of the Rim Rock Trail before I wore myself out oohing-and-ahhing at the magnificence of this canyon, 7000 ft above sea level.

Hiking the rim from the visitors center to Tomichi Point was but a half mile and though it is described as relatively flat with some stairs and uneven ground, I found it a bit unnerving given the closeness to the “endless” drop of the canyon, so proceeded with great caution. I was stunned by the sheer depth of the canyon walls and narrowness of these canyon walls, the glimpses of the Gunnison River, the canyon ridges and rock spires that jut into Black Canyon, and panoramic vistas of the West Elk Mountains.

Not want to be miss out on any demarcated views , I motored on and began the routine of stoping at each pullout to and hiking each short trail to the viewing platforms. I began to develop a cadre of acquaintances   as I kept running into the same gazers at each pullout.  starting with Pulpit Rock.

Pulpit Rock .

Cross Fissures Overlook

Rock Point

Chasm View

Painted Wall

Standing 2,250 feet tall from the river to rim, Black Canyon’s Painted Wall is the tallest cliff in Colorado and it has been compared to the Washington Monument standing 555 feet and the Empire State Building at just 1,250 feet. Only Burj Khalifa in Dubai which is the world’s tallest building at 2,717 ft. has beat this massive cliff out.. Jackson Polluck and the many other abstract artist definitely were centuries behind the artistry of the natural forces of nature. My imagination went into high gear when coming upon some of the rocks lining the trail out to the painted wall and I started anthropomorphizing many of rocks and seeing cuddly rock creatures. Can you?

Cedar Point Nature Trail

Sunset View and High Point

At the end of the rim road and with plenty of time for additional adventure, I opted to drive the East Portal Road to Gunnison Dam. The road is paved and two-way but windy and steep, narrow and twisty, and tight curves with a 16 % grade in few places. If you have read previous blogs you know this is my favorite kind of driving. My heart beat rapidly with the sheer excitement of this challenging drive. I managed to avoid burning out my brakes. It ended in the Curecanti National Recreation Area. I had intended to dip my toes in the Gunnison but some how was not motivated at that point to do so.

Since I clearly had not had enough of driving twisty mountain roads, I drove down about 5 miles to route 50 to get ice so my groceries would not spoil. The store definitely had character. . 

It had been an excellent day with so much strong and bold scenery. It was time to head back up to settle into camp. Cook. Write. Organize  and enjoy the sunset all the while again inhaling the wafting fragrance of hot tar.

Friday, August 23 I woke another drenching rain.  The tents raincoat (a poncho I had in the car) which I draped over the netting and under the oozing rainfly had kept the inside of the tent mostly dry and me mostly dry.  The rain finally let up and I was able to get breakfast and coffee but figured there was no time for lingering as I wanted to try and break down camp before the rain started again.  It wasn’t to be.  A constant drizzle began so I was resigned to breaking everything down and wrapping it up, mud and rainwater as well.  The tent must have weighed an extra 5 pounds.  I was so very wet and bedraggled and I finally got loaded up and was off by 10:15.  

I did not have a terribly long drive so I decided to take what I hoped was a more scenic route to Arches National Park in Utah.  As I traveled further west the landscape became more desert like and was colored mostly in tans, yellows, and browns etc. My route took me down #143 and   before long I was in canyon lands with massive rock formations of all sizes and shapes and colors. It ran along the Colorado River and curve after curve got more colorful, fanciful and gorgeous.  

I arrived at Arches Visitors Center Friday 23rd around 4:00pm and learned the campground was 19 miles up the scenic road and would slow going and take about 45 minutes.  I was getting somewhat concerned as I saw some rather ominous looking clouds on the horizon and hoped I could beat any impending storm. 

Fortunately, it was still sunny upon arrival at the campground and I set about trying to dry out the tent, fly, ground cover, tent rain coat and any other sodden item. Though sunny I could hear the rumbling of thunderstorms much closer.  So I shifted into fast forward and basically just dumped everything into the tent that I would want for the evening.

Then, first a strong wind gust and then the rain blasted in so quickly that I ducked into the tent  but was wondering if perhaps I should have rode it out in the car.  But there I was in this flimsy nylon cloth shelter with its compromised polyurethane coating, feeling scared (I don’t scare easily) and fearful, since it felt so close I was sure that the lightening and its companion thunder were about to both fry me and deafen me. I was certain a tree would come crashing down on my not so safe place and the tent would sail away with me in it to OZ. Of course, if it had not been laden with me and all my stuff, it would have blown away. This massive storm raged on for at least a half hour or more and the thunder was so loud and so close as was the lightening, all of that time.   Talk about powerlessness. I could not do anything but just sit there and be frightened.  

The stormed moved on over the distance plateau and valley. Mother/Father Nature subsequently pretended it did not just have a out-of-control rage in the last hour but subsequently served up a beautiful sunset as a peace offering.

On Saturday 24th I was up and out early to hopefully get ahead of the crowds hiking the iconic Delicate Arch Trail. It was a halcyon day and I was psyched to commence the most prized hike of the entire trip. Delicate Arch is the largest free-standing arch in the park and so named because it is “the most delicately chiseled arch in the entire area.” But as I made my left turn to head down the 1.25 mile down to the trail head, I was met at the entrance of the access road with a Road Closed sign. A hiker who had walked the road down and was returning said that there was several feet of red dirt/clay across the road from the deluge of the previous evening and it would be 2-3 hours or more before the road would be opened. If I waited until then (it was already 9:00 am) it would be unbearably hot before I finished since I am the tortoise in the tortoise and the hare race.

So my natural choice was to walk 1.25 miles down the road to the trail head, 1/2 gallon of water in hand. I would worry about the 1.25 mile uphill climb after the strenuous hike i.e could hopefully hitchhike back up. Around 30 minutes later I was ready for the 3.2 mile hike on what is rated as a strenuous trail. The beauty of this choice is that there was hardly anyone hiking yet (no crowds like the normal disneyesque size queue hiking here today) so I encountered only a few more adventurous duos passing me by . This was an exposed trail with no shade. As it began it was quite a well defined trail and soon crossed a bridge over Salt Wash. But soon thereafter I encountered steep grades, rock steps, red rock slabs, areas of open slope of steep slick rock with exposure to heights, and for the final hurrah a ledge with steep drop-off.

The final trek down to the Delicate Arch itself was along open relatively steep slickrock and even I would admit it felt quite dangerous especially with a brisk wind. I had gotten this far so I was not about to waiver now . Most of the other hikers were much younger than myself and when I finally made it out to under the arch and turned around, I received a rousing cheer from my hiker fan base and assists.

Hiking out was quite enjoyable, until about a half hour and over half way down, when I could see that the road was open. It would not be long before the  large volume of hikers would be scrambling up the trail. Shortly, a couple of young women who I had been interacting with “up top” came upon me and asked if my car was down at the trailhead or up top on the road. Since their car was up there too, they offered to hike up and get their car and come down and pick me up. I heartily agreed and it wasn’t long before they were back. They did the hitchhiking up so I soon retrieved my car to begin my “Arch Walk” (kind of like an art walk) via auto of other areas of the park.

Much like in Gunnison, I traveled the length of the park road to view many of the acclaimed arches and do what walking my legs would still accommodate, after my so very inspiring Delicate Arch hike, starting with Panorama Point and North and South Windows Trails. Can you see or imagine what the rock formation namers saw in their names of the formations?

Panorama Point

Elephant Butte, the Buccaneer, and the Double Arch on Windows Road

I loved the Windows section of Arches. Many consider it to be the heart of Arches. There is a significant concentration of arches and I found it to be quite a beautiful location in the park to hike about. South window, North Window, and Turret Arch, Elephant Butte, Cove of Caves, and Adam and Eve in the Garden of Eden are just a few of the -inspiring arch formation I found on the Windows Trail and Road.

South Window, North Window, Turret Arch, Elephant Butte, Cove of Caves, and Adam and Eve in the Garden of Eden

I knew it was about time to drive into Moab Drove to shop for ice, grocery supplies and gas. Having made that decision I was quite pleased that the storms for the day hit when I was enroute through the park.

Upon my return I continued on my mission to visit the vita as many pullouts as possible … how tragic it would be if I missed something truly remarkable.

Park Avenue, Queen Nefertiti, LaSalle Mountains , Three Gossips, Courthouse Towers and Tower of Babel.

Further on down the road and in spite of the ever present threatening weather, I continued my pursuit of additional vistas including the Petrified Dunes, Fiery Furnace, and for some masochistic reason I drove up to the viewpoints for Delicate Arch to get a view of it from the opposite side . I hiked the one mile round trip slightly strenuous steep climb up to the Upper Viewpoint. Most of the other hikers were quite disappointed about the distance to the arch and that it’ is’s separated by a canyon and not accessible to walk to. This day was a 24,000 step and 9 mile day of splendor!

Petrified Dunes, Delicate Arch Backside, Fiery Furnace

By the time I got back to the campsite it was 7:30.   I thought my site had been vandalized but soon realized that it had been vandalizes indeed — by the wind.  Fortunately that was the culprit. It was getting dark out and I still needed to prepare dinner so I opted for the cold variety. Once I piled everything into the car for the night (total disarray),  I retreated to my tent and to then had clean off most everything in tent from a dusting of red sand.  I finally went to sleep with constant gusts of the wind battering the tent.   I must have been totally exhausted to manage to have slept through an extremely gusty night.

Peeking out of my wind blown tent, I could see thunder and storm clouds in all directions.  So I bounded out of the tent and it was clear that the wind had tried to break camp for me. Hoping to avoid the  red mud slicks that would occur and to escape having a tent wet and stained red if it rained (the wind at least had dried everything with its powerful swirls), I had better move quickly .    As the rumbles kept happening and getting closer, I rushed about just flinging everything into car which was already a jumble.  When done I settled down with my first cup of coffee and observed that I had escaped the storms that were all around. They had headed elsewhere to flood some other unsuspecting area. Before I headed on to Bryce Canyon, I thought I would take a “last stand” and hike Devil’s Garden Trail. I was dragging along and I actually acknowledged that I was “burned out” from yesterday’s mega adventure and I best do an about face and get back on the road.