Utah, My Love

Utah is an incredible place. Although it’s a popular place for hikers, in my travels it has often seemed like I’ve had the whole place to myself. On my way to Capitol Reef National Park I hadn’t passed another car in a long time. Civilization was becoming sparse. I was filled with excitement to go to this lesser known National Park.

I first learned about Capitol Reef from the Rock the Park show in which Jack Steward described it as a “gem.” It was an intriguing episode, because the park was portrayed with such a unique balance of history and nature. Jack also described it as “The real wild West.” Growing up in, and always being confined to, the Northeast and Midwest, the wild West always seemed so unreachable and too legendary to bother with making my acquaintance, but here we were, about to meet!

Prior to my arrival, I knew some basics about Capitol Reef. It was a supposed hideout for outlaws, including the infamous Butch Cassidy. It also included a commonly traveled pioneer wagon route and the restored Mormon ghost town of Fruita, situated in an oasis tucked down between the giant rock walls. It was named Capitol Reef after a giant rock feature on top of the Reef, which pioneers thought resembled the U.S. capitol building. I wanted to see it all for myself and was very curious what the “Reef” itself would look like- a 100 mile outcropping of earth pointing to the sky.

The two hour drive from Bryce Canyon to Capitol Reef was very peaceful and marked by tranquility, yet unbridled anticipation. I was driving down the long wavy landscape, swooping down and rolling up to see new marvels at each crest. I had gotten another early start as to be able to secure a campsite in Fruita. As I was traveling down the open roads, the morning sun was still waking up, slowly peering over mountainous deserts and lush fields of the remote Utah farmland. The temperature was brisk and in the lower fifties. The sun didn’t seem to be in a hurry but stretched casually, illuminating the beauty around it, turning dark grey areas to vibrant oranges and greens. As I approached the park, red giants stood up all around me. They announced their existence boldly and reached dramatically into the sky- some layered with colors, others monotone. Between the road and these giants were just fields of sand and rocks mixed with typical desert shrubs. It very much reminded me of the landscape in Disney Pixar’s original Cars movie. It felt like in any minute I’d be pulling up to Radiator Springs.

The Reef itself jutted diagonally up into the skype, as an immense rock ledge. In the park film, I learned that it is believe it was formed by plates of land colliding, pushing one plate up into the air, creating this massive wrinkle in the earth’s crust.

I was traveling alone. Dom had taken off in a different direction. He had forgotten to pack his camera battery and had found a place online in Moab, Utah that sold it. He was going to seek that out. When I rolled into the park, I passed the small visitor center and headed straight to Fruita. I didn’t have much pick of a site, because the campground was small and many sites were taken.

The whole campground was flat and had a mix of green grass and desert dust. It was all fenced in, so it did not have much of a wild feel. Roads were paved, sites plainly arranged. It was a very civilized campground, yet very scenic, because it was tucked away between giant red walls situated in small and picturesque Fruita. I chose a site in the front left corner of the campground. I quickly set up camp. Knowing I would stay a few days, I decided I would rest spaciously in True Blue. I then purchased some firewood from the campground host and headed back to the visitor center, as always to watch the park film, purchase a pin and sticker, and ask a ranger for hiking recommendations, despite already having an agenda. I then hit the park road.

The first hike on the agenda was to Cassidy Arch. It was a 6.6 mile round-trip hike. The trail arrived at a place believed to be a hideout spot for the infamous criminal it’s named after. To get there I drove on a extremely scenic dusty dirt road in an expansive area between enormous rock walls where my little rental car kicked up a large trail of dusty clouds. I stopped at numerous spots to take pictures. The giants walls, and bold rock formations around me, made me feel so small and as if my car was just a spec of dust. I had never seen anything like this. I carefully maneuvered my car around some sharp turns, paying attention to the location of my tires, making sure they didn’t fall into any ruts or run over any sharply protruding rocks.

I came to a dirt parking-lot. There were maybe a dozen other vehicles that had ventured out here. I got out of my car, took off my shirt to cover myself in sunscreen, and made sure my Camelbak was at its water holding capacity. The sun now was fully awake and wasn’t holding anything back. It was raw, sharp, and felt closeby, without any filter. I began my hike on a river wash, and shortly took a turn left to start ascending, hiking between a multitude of fallen rocks and desert shrubs. I remember looking up in amazement, wondering why I had not heard more about this place. It reminded me of the awe and grandeur of looking over Yosemite Valley, just in a different color. Mountains rolled around in every direction and rocks abruptly and strikingly reached up into the sky. The reds, oranges, browns, and even whites were layered, and at other times they swirled around.

I remember looking across the distance in awe and thanking God for the adventure and acknowledging his awesome creativity. The more places I visit and new landscapes I see, the more I get to know God, as I observe the creative expressions He has poured himself into.

As I was ascending from the canyon along this path, which hugs and meanders around cliff edges, a group of three young teenage boys passed me…and then I passed them. This became a pattern until it started to become a bit awkward. I decided to let them establish a lead, as I knew I’d be stopping many times to take pictures.

As the trail reached higher ground, much of it was on open exposed rock face, and the only way to know where I was going was to look for cairns. Some were small and inconspicuous, so my eyes were constantly scanning in all directions, and a few times I had to trace my steps backward to find the cairn.

After 3.3 miles, I reached Cassidy Arch. There was one family there, and separate from them a group of about 10 boys and a couple of men. I quickly figured out that it was a Boy Scout group that had beat me here. How cool it would be to take a Boy Scout excursion to Capitol Reef! Anyone that lives in Utah is spoiled with exquisite landscapes. Utah is my wonderland and favorite state. I was able to recruit a Boy Scout leader to take my photo with Cassidy Arch behind me.  I then sat down and rested there at the end of the trail, on the open rock face, facing the arch. Here I was having already seen Saguaro, the Navajo Nation, Horseshoe Bend, and Bryce Canyon, yet my adventure was still young. I already felt accomplished, yet there was much more to see and adventure to be had. Here in Capitol Reef, tucked away in Utah, I truly felt off the grid, away from it all, hidden, just like the outlaws. I had escaped the troubles of my world and was free. As always Utah makes me feel at home. Although some may dread the heat of the desert, Utah to me has always felt comforting.

I have noticed many times, hiking in Utah, that my skin, after being exposed to the summer sun, takes on the same color of much of the rock. Utah is a place in which I could go camouflaged.  It reminds me of the piece of scripture that says God formed man out of the dust of the earth. If God were to have formed me out of the dust of this earth, he picked up a scoop of Utah and molded me, and maybe that is why I love the Utah landscape so much- maybe coming to Utah is in some ways, coming home.

I let this sink in, as I sat there facing Cassidy Arch. I felt that making acquaintance with Capitol Reef was more than a mere polite gesture. Capitol Reef had spoken. “Welcome…” it said, “…just make yourself at home.” And so I did.


Check back for my account of hiking to the Pioneer Register in Capitol Reef!

Read the previous entry “Recollection and Wonder,” here: https://joshthehodge.wordpress.com/2017/10/14/recollection-and-wonder

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Recollection and Wonder

Most of my memory of Bryce Canyon is painted in warm shades of orange and dressed in a whimsical fashion, with forest animals trampling around and everything being just about right. Bryce Canyon is a lasting deep breathe of fresh air that will remain vividly captured in my memory. No other park comes close to capturing its unique combination of forest, desert, and hoodoo wonderland. I will long for it’s hot dry sunny days and cool refreshing star-filled nights, where the air feels hollow and easy to breath, perfectly accommodating the camping visitor.   

On this second day in Bryce Canyon, I began with a hike.  Dom did not join because he needed to seek internet and complete homework for a class he was taking- a very unfortunate circumstance I must say. I began my hike on the Queen’s Garden Trail and continued on the Navajo Loop. The trails were narrow and crowded. Many people were enjoying the wonders of Bryce Canyon. At a few turns in the trail, I had to wait on people in front of me. The trails wound around many hoodoos, shimmied through slot canyons, and passed under natural arches, all in manageable 2.7 mile hike.

I’m not sure if it’s the names of the trails such as “Queen’s Garden” and “Fairyland Loop” that influence my perception, but Bryce Canyon does remind me in a roundabout way of Alice in Wonderland, in part because of such colorful geological oddities and it’s trails meandering and twisting around in such a whimsical fashion to arrive at a singular spot. A sense of wondrous suspense accompanied me on these trails, for I never knew what was around each bend and twist in the trail, what seemingly impossible geological feature would stand before me, or what colors would so strikingly comprise the landscape.

During my morning hike, I came to a bend in the trail where a squirrel stood upright, poised on two feet, as if waiting to draw the attention from the hikers. It looked different than the typical squirrels we have in the Midwest. I later learned that it was a golden-mantled ground squirrel. The way it was poised looked as if it was accustomed to posing for pictures. It wasn’t the least bit concerned by my proximity. It didn’t budge as I knelt down to take it’s picture. It was just the sort of adorable woodland creature one would expect to find in such a whimsical place. Squirrel pictures always run the risk of being commonplace but this turned out to be one of my most memorable photos from this park. It is important to note, that approaching wild squirrels is not advisable, and if done, should be done with caution. Some squirrels in the National Parks of the West can become aggressive.DSC03938

I recall the prior summer, when I was in Zion, another National Park not too far away, I was short on time and was in a hurry to get to the trailhead of the famous Narrows. There was heavy slow-moving traffic on the pathway because a group of Asian tourists were enthralled at the sight of squirrels and were all trying to take pictures of the creatures. I was annoyed. It’s just a squirrel, I thought. But when you are more carefree and have the time, I now understand the pleasure in stopping, not to smell the roses, but to admire the squirrels.

After the photoshoot with the squirrel, I continued on my hike, passing large DSC03944thin hoodoos towering above as if enormous fins to guide the planet through the galaxy. As the canyon narrowed to almost a slot canyon, a pine tree strikingly stood grounded, reaching for the sky, a location where many travelers have taken photos.

The last leg of the hike included dozens of short switchbacks out of the canyon. Despite being man-made, these switchbacks are one of the more iconic features of the park. I’d seen them before from various photographers, and they appeared in Greg MacGillivray’s film, National Parks Adventure. As I was ascending, I captured a scene that will stick with me forever. An elderly couple most likely in their eighties were ascending the dozens of switchbacks. They walked extremely slow, just shy of shuffling, slowly but determined. At the curve of a switchback, the husband, reached out his hand to help his wife ascend the steep incline. I simply watched in amazement. Their actions spoke a lot. Though moving extremely slow, they didn’t let their age nor weakness stop them from adventure. The husband reaching out to help his nearly crippled wife ascend and round the curve, was precious, speaking of the love and dedication he has for her. I’m certain they had no awareness of my presence and observations. It goes to show that the simplest and most ordinary of your actions can have a lasting impression on others.

I wondered how many adventures this couple had gone on before. Were they seasoned park explorers, just continuing to do what they love and not letting old age stop them, or was this because they had not gotten out when they were younger, so now they decided to see what they could? I prefer to entertain the first and imagine this couple held tons of adventure stories and a wealth of experience, and nothing would stop them from having more adventures.

Back on the high ground, I got in my car and decided to drive the length of the park and get a complete feel for the place. The park was very simple with one main road that traverses the expanse of the canyon rim and numerous spots one can pull over to take in beautiful vistas of the canyon expanse. The road climbs up into brisker, more densely wooded areas and extends all the way to Yovimpa Point, which during this visit was closed due to repair.

After my self guided tour, I drove back to the general store to attempt to take a shower again. It was a success. However, I forgot a towel, but it wasn’t much of a problem. The climate was so dry, that I quickly dried off. There is nothing more refreshing than stepping out of the shower into a hot but dry climate. The air feels amazing engulfing the skin, and I feel totally refreshed. After my shower I then bought myself another piece of pizza and a Greek yogurt from the general store. After enjoying these on the porch, I drove to the Bryce Canyon Lodge, picked up a couple postcards and found a quiet nook near the lobby. I was surprised to find Dom there, working on his homework. I told him about the trails I hiked and the beautiful drive and then sat down to write my postcards. I wrote on a panoramic postcard to my parents and then wrote to two other postcard buddies.

When both Dom and I came to completion of our tasks, I had convinced Dom to go on the park drive. I accompanied him, having enjoyed it so much the first time. I’m glad I did go a second time and was able to share the experience with Dom. Dom had an SUV he had borrowed from him mom, and he had the thing full of gear for a summer of adventure. His plan was similar to mine, to road trip and explore the great American West. His trip was less planned than mine. I had campsites reserved for every night, and even had Plan As and Plan Bs for part of my trip. Dom was more carefree, willing to travel wherever the winds swept him or the roads led him. One notable thing he had in the SUV was a drone. Dom is really into photography and the latest in technology and was hoping to catch some great drone pictures along the way. Drone use, however, is prohibited in most National Parks, but he did tell me how he sent it in flight at Horseshoe Bend- a few days before. When it was out above the river in the canyon, it ran out of battery power and started plummeting towards the Rio Grande. Moments before impact, it had a spike of energy and was able to be flown back to safety. What a scare!

As I was ascending the canyon rim a second time with Dom, I really took in the stark contrast between the two sides of the road. One side of the road boasted the Bryce Canyon and all it’s golden orange display. The other side was all thick pines, dark green, no orange, looking like the forest of the northwest.

Along the drive, Dom and I got out of the SUV at numerous viewpoints, but eventually decided we wanted to race the clock and get back to the main section of the park to Sunset Point before sunset. We failed. We arrived at Sunset Point just moments late. Both of us wanted to arrive there at sunset for different reasons. Dom wanted to take pictures, and I wanted to be there because I read in the park newsletter how Stephen Mather, the first director of the National Park Service, sat at this point admiring the canyon at sunset and here decided he wanted to protect this as a National Park. I wanted to put myself in his perspective and gaze upon the canyon at sunset, looking at it with the same value and admiration Mather did.


Despite having missed the sunset, the view was still gorgeous, and the canyon was painted deep orange and dark purples. Opposite the canyon the sky was bright pink with the silhouettes of tall pines on displayed. Dom started talking to another photographer- all in technological terms, beyond my ammature understanding. I wandered off and lost Dom, but eventually we were reunited at the SUV, and headed back to camp.

At camp I roasted some slices of ham lunch meat over the fire and cooked a can of corn at the fire’s edge.  Dom was hoping all during the day that he would get to see a Utah Prairie Dog, an endangered species only present in Bryce Canyon out of all the National Parks. Despite his desire, he had no luck. The following morning I had success, but the creatures were easily startled and too fast to be captured by photograph.

Sitting around the campfire this second night, was our last night in Bryce Canyon National Park. This National Park visit was quintessential, beautiful, challenging, calming, and now I have stored up in my mind a previously unimaginable landscape to explore again in recollection and wonder.

Check back as I move onward in my adventure to Capitol Reef National Park!

Read the next entry “Utah, My Love” here: https://joshthehodge.wordpress.com/2017/10/17/utah-my-love/

Read the previous entry “Journey on the Fairyland Loop,” here: https://joshthehodge.wordpress.com/2017/07/30/my-journey-on-the-fairyland-loop/

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My Journey on the Fairyland Loop

“I just can’t go on any longer,” I told myself. This was definitely not the positive self talk I needed to get myself through this hike. This trail seemed longer, hotter, and more draining than I had imagined. I mean, after all, how treacherous can a trail named “Fairyland Loop” be? It sounds so dainty.

It was a ten miles hike. I knew this, but somehow in the excitement of being here in Bryce Canyon National Park and meeting up with my friend Dom, I had forgot two essential things, sunscreen and a sufficient amount of water. On top of this, I had already fallen into the canyon onto a cactus. This trail experience was a little rough, but it was also amazing, and I’d do it all again, given the opportunity.

The name Fairyland Loop is quite appropriate for such a trail, because it’s such a fanciful, other worldly, colorful trail, with bizarre rock formations and hoodoos around every winding turn.

Hoodoos are columns of rocks that are soft, (if we can consider rocks soft for a moment ), but these formation have a hard capstone protecting the towers of rocks from complete erosion. They stick up like pillars and are a rather rare geological feature. I have seem them in Arizona and Kentucky also, but not to the the extent to which they are present in Bryce Canyon. This park is known for them and they are everywhere. The Fairyland Loop wanders around the base of many hoodoos and descends to the base of the canyon. The descent has one walking by sections of bright white sand and soft orange rocks. It meanders around the canyon floor, through sparse pine forest, and at one point passes by Window Arch, an iconic feature of the park- a window of erosion through a large rock protrusion, which looks like a fanciful piece of planned architecture.

As we hiked along the canyon floor, Dom and I talked a lot about teaching. We are both public school teachers, but in different states, myself in Kentucky and him in Indiana. We were talking about things most people find thrilling, such as state requirements for certification, teacher evaluation methods, and professional development in our districts.

Bryce Canyon, and particularly this trail, is a very charming place. It evokes such a unique feeling from any other National Park. Inside the canyon after getting over the possibility of encountering a mountain lion, I felt sheltered and protected, as if this was a place I belonged in. The warm colors of the rock were inviting, the pines relaxing. In many ways it was like walking through and being a part of a very fine piece of artwork. It all seemed so intentional, designed to soothe the soul and fold me up in the arms of the Creator.

As kind as my description may be, then some realities set in. As we began to ascend an island out in the canyon, the sun was beating harshly, and I realized I forgot to apply and pack sunscreen. The hot sun was stinging my skin. I had a light hoodie in my backpack, and although considering the heat it wouldn’t be preferable, I put it on the hoodie  and stretched the hood over my head to protect me from the sun. It sufficed.

We then came to the top of the rock island and hiked out to a small peninsula. A few pines stood to provide shade, and short shrubbery blanketed most of the ground. Here we gazed onto another iconic feature of the park- The Sinking Ship. In the distance before us, a protrusion of land dipping into the canyon sinks backward creating a convincing image of a sinking ship. The formation was named very appropriately and was definitely worth the hike.

At this point of the hike I was beginning to wear out, and so I had a seat on the peninsula. I explained to Dom how it would be such a great place to camp- a place of remote isolation, nice shade and beautiful views in all directions.

Unfortunately we could not camp here, we had to continue one. The trail slithered around some narrow passes down, up, and around the canyon. On this final leg of the trip I ran out of water. I had only brought with about a liter and probably needed about three liters. The National Park Service advises in arid climates to be prepared with a liter per hour.

Finally, after about 8 miles, the trail guided us back on the canyon rim, where the main infrastructures of the park lie -the entrance, visitor center, lodge, roads, overlooks, and campgrounds. It was still a two mile hike back to our campground. I was extremely weary. The fact that this was my first major hike this trip at high elevation contributed to this exhaustion. I don’t think my body was ready for it. It had not adjusted, and the realization of this was the moment when the thought creeped in, “I just can’t do this anyone.”

My hiking pace began to slow down dramatically, and I was forcing my body to continue. Dom also expressed his tiredness. He was in all the same forgetful predicaments as myself, but he plowed on, leaving me literally in the rocky dust. I needed a break. I sat down on the canyon rim with my legs hanging over the end, resting on a slope of rock slide which fell beneath the stance of some large hoodoos. I casually pushed some rock with my feet, listening to a pleasing pinging hollow sound as the small rocks and pebbles clanked into the hoodoos. I did this a couple of times until I realized I was abusing the landscape and needed to let things be. I also wasn’t sure if there were other hikers below. I didn’t want to be showering them with rocks and knocking them out. I picked myself up and hiked some of the longest two miles of my life along the rim back to camp.

This predicament of exhaustion was ironic, because I had secretly passed major judgement on Dom thinking he was ill equipped and lacked the experience for this hike. So it was fitting and justified that he left me behind and crossed the finish line before me. My pride needed to be humbled.

Once back at camp I drowned myself in some Gatorade and then water. We had anticipated taking showers and drove to the general store within the park where the coin showers were located. However, they had just closed up shower access for the  day. The general store was in a log cabin type structure and was well equipped with food and supplies. I enjoyed a piece of everything pizza and a Chobani yogurt. I sat the the porch out front for a minute and took in the peacefulness of the evening.

Back at camp I organized my trunk. On this trip I was living out of my rental car, and most everything was organized in a specific location in the trunk. Clothes were in the far rear organized in piles. To the right was the camping section of all tents flashlights, and other gear. To the left was the “kitchen”- where extra storage bags, paper towels, and canned food items resided. Behind the clothes was my suitcase, which only contained things I did not need immediate access to. On top of that was the main food storage unit- a thin plastic tub filled with nuts, dried berries, and protein and granola barns. On top of that was a backpack which  served as electronic department, with my Chromebook, spare batteries, cords, and cameras. I had this down to a science. Going on a camping trip and not being organized doesn’t work well for me, because I end up spending so much time looking for things around the car or not realizing all I have with me. Everything needs to have a place and be ready to be accessed on demand.

After I got organized, I built a campfire with Dom as the sun slipped below the horizon. We sat there by the fire with a sense of accomplishment from hiking the Fairyland Loop and having our vehicles organized. I was ready to make s’mores but discovered my chocolate had completely melted to liquid. First Dom cooked his rice dish and I cooked my pizza pockets. Then we then made our chocolateless s’mores as the stars began to make their bright appearance and campers retired for the night. Tomorrow we would explore more of Bryce Canyon. (Note: pizza pockets do not taste very good cooked over a fire)

Window Arch
Protecting myself from the sun
Dom taking a picture of “The Sinking Ship”
Some fine hoodoos
Before getting organized
After getting organized.
Making s’mores in the desert presents it’s challenges.
I thought it was a good idea.

Read the next entry “Recollection and Wonder,” here: https://joshthehodge.wordpress.com/2017/10/14/recollection-and-wonder

Read the previous entry “Falling into Bryce Canyon,” here: https://joshthehodge.wordpress.com/2017/05/25/falling-into-bryce-canyon

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Falling into Bryce Canyon

“Don’t do it. You’re going to end up as one of those people we read about in the book.”

I had just finished telling Dom about a book called Death, Daring, and Disaster: Search and Rescue in the National Parks, and now I was about to do something a bit daring myself.

Screen Shot 2017-05-25 at 9.47.06 AMI had hiked across a very narrow peninsula in the air, standing above Bryce Canyon. It couldn’t have been more than three feet wide. I wanted a picture from atop. At one point there was a giant step. I had to place my arms on the higher ground and push the rest of my body up. While I was successful at reaching the plateau, my trekking pole scraped against the ground and came loose. Gravity snatched it from me. I saw it plummeting and somersaulting down the canyon, bouncing off the rocks and echoing around me.

“I’m going to go get it!” is what I proclaimed, and that is when Dom pointed out the ridiculousness of the idea. I was telling him about the book I had been reading and all the stupid and ridiculous things people do in National Parks which put them in danger. He was clearly listening well to me, because his pointing out of the parallel between the present situation and the book was well stated. He made an appealing case to not pursue my run away trekking pole, but regardless, I didn’t listen to him.

This trekking pole and me have been on way too many adventures together for it to end like this. Can one truly get sentimental about his trekking pole? Well this adventurer can. My cousin Jonathan bought it for me when we both went to Yosemite National Park for the first time. This was my first major hiking and camping trip, and it was an amazing life experience. This trekking pole was with me the whole time. Also, the pole could adjust easily to varying heights. I could jab it into the ground and unscrew its handle to fasten on my camera and have a sturdy monopod. It was so practical, so useful. It was a gift. I didn’t know how much something like this cost. I’m frugal. I was going to go retrieve it.

…Or at least I was going to thoroughly assess the situation. So the canyon wasn’t very deep at this point. It was probably thirty feet down. It wasn’t a straight drop. There was a very steep diagonal slope of crumbled rock. There was the possibility that I could sort of surf my way down the crumbling rock. I turned around to Dom. “Make sure the camera is recording,” I instructed. This had to be properly documented.

Recounting this experience, I’m not sure if the next event was a part of the plan, or if gravity took me by surprise, but next thing I know I’m sliding down into the canyon, uncontrollably. I couldn’t stay standing. I’m falling. My feet are pushing and digging into crumbles of red rock before me, but it’s not enough to break the fall. The rocks are crudely climbing up into my pants. I look down and I don’t know how this is going to end. Dom is right. I’m going to end up in that book, I’m thinking to myself. Then in all the excitement and distress, it comes to a screeching halt with my rear planted on a cactus.


I stood up. Thankfully this cactus was wimpy so no real damage was done, but very fine cactus needles were clinging to the back of my gym shorts and it was not comfortable. I grabbed my trekking pole and we were reunited. Mission accomplished. Now, to get back up!  It looked daunting. This was not going to be easy if possible at all. I scouted the perimeter of penisular rock formation I fell from. The only chance of getting back up would be from the way I came down. With that thought in mind, panic set in. I could be stuck down here, and what concerned me is I didn’t even know this place. I only got here a few hours ago. I did know that mountain lions live here. I’m going to be stuck in a canyon all night with mountain lions. Perilous thoughts started to snowball out of control. Okay, I’ve got to get out of here, I told myself.

I began my ascend. It was so steep that I realized once I began, there was no backing down. There was no grip to successfully back down. It would entail another fall, and perhaps not as merciful as the initial fall. Gripping onto the crumbling rock was of course useless, and I started to slide backwards, so I grabbed onto part of the canyon wall jutting out. This had to be my route up. I found cracks and rock shelves to place my feet on, and when possible I balanced one foot on the crumbling rock and the other on the canyon wall. At this point my heart was racing, feeling as if it’s going to jump right out of my chest and take off on a marathon. I realized this was not safe, but there was no other way. I could only go upward, and I was not entirely sure I believed in my ability to bring myself to safety. In this moment I remembered bouldering with my brother at a climbing gym the month before in Louisville, Kentucky. It was only my second time bouldering, and I didn’t do so bad. This canyon wall in Bryce Canyon required the same skills, the same focus and determination. I stretched my arms and legs to their widest extent, said a quick prayer, and started pulling myself up, unsure if my efforts would prove fruitful, but it worked! I eventually made it to the plateau.

I was so thankful and excited to be safe and on a trail, and ready to make a commitment to never do anything so careless like that again.

I raced back over the Dom, who had taken a seat to relax during my daring shenanigan.

“What an experience!” I exclaimed.

“Was it worth it?”  he nonchalantly questioned.

Definitely worth it if you captured it all on video, I’m thought to myself. Come to find out, none of it was recorded except that last piece of dialogue. With disappointment, but a riveting adventure tale now in my pocket and sturdy loyal trekking pole, we continued on our journey around the Fairyland Loop.

Check back for my account of hiking the Fairyland Loop in Bryce Canyon.

Read the previous entry “Onward to Bryce Canyon,” here: https://joshthehodge.wordpress.com/2017/05/21/onward-to-bryce-canyon/

Read the next entry “My Journey on the Fairyland Loop,” here: https://joshthehodge.wordpress.com/2017/07/30/my-journey-on-the-fairyland-loop/

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Onward to Bryce Canyon

“So, where is the lake?” the camper questioned.

“It dried up 3 million years ago,” the campground host replied.

I lay in my tent laughing to myself. This is what I woke up to this morning. I knew Jacob Lake was just the name of the campground and no lake existed. I think this other camper was a bit surprised though. If he was planning a vacation on the lake, I’m sure he was disappointed.

Once again I quickly began packing up camp. The goal was to make it to Bryce Canyon National Park and secure a campsite since nothing could be reserved. I wanted a spot specifically at the North Campground. I had a backup plan if the campground was full and that was to camp at King Creek in the Dixie National Forest. But while packing up camp early at Jacob Lake, I was determined to get there and find a site. One of the many great things about this area of the West is that the sun rises so early, between four and five this time of the year, so it’s easy to get an early start.

Dom was not at camp when I awoke, but this was expected. He planned to take an early excursion to the North Rim of the Grand Canyon 44 miles away. I opted out of this, because I was tired and wanted to sleep just a bit longer. I had already seen the Grand Canyon, although only the southern rim. Numerous people I encounter brag about the northern rim, but after trekking through the wilderness of the Petrified Forest and navigating all the way across the Navajo Nation, I was exhausted, and didn’t want to get up any earlier than what I had already planned. When Dom returned to camp, he told me he spotted and took pictures of bison along the way. His bison photos, just like all his photos, are amazing.

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Dom’s amazing bison photo.  https://www.instagram.com/domdavid/

Leaving Jacob Lake, Dom followed me in his mom’s SUV that he had borrowed for the summer. The drive was beautiful, through green and mountainous regions of Utah. We stopped at a Family Dollar in Kanab. I had been here the year before en route to Coral Pink Sand Dunes State Park, and I knew this was a last stop opportunity for food and supplies for a long distance. I told Dom to get what he wanted because this was it. I found it odd that he chose to buy rice and a tin container and utensil to cook it over the fire. However, I bought pizza pockets because I figured I could cook them over the fire on marshmallow sticks, so who am I to judge? I also bought some Gatorade. I first discovered lime and cucumber Gatorade here the previous year, before it was available anywhere in middle America.

With our odd food choices packed away in our vehicles we proceeded to Bryce Canyon. Approaching the park, there were a number of hotels, obviously catering to park visitors, but it was not excessive nor tacky, and the road was still wide open. Bryce Canyon National Park has a gated entrance like a number of the National Parks in the West. At the entrance booth I showed my NPS pass and ID in exchange for a park map and newspaper. I asked the employee if he thought I could find a campsite. He checked the time. “Oh, nine o’clock. I think you’ll find one.”

By this point I had lost Dom somewhere on the road, but I didn’t mind. We talked about this. I’d find a campsite and call him, if cell service was available, if not i’d meet him in the visitor center. The North Campground was close to the park entrance, and when I got there it was filling up fast. I had to drive deep into the campground and up a hill. I settled for the second site I found open. It just so happened to be perfect. It was right next to the slope of a hill which rolled down into pine forest, and there was enough space for both of use to pitch a tent. I felt relieved.

Trying to get a hold of Dom was tricky, because cell service was spotty, but we managed to communicate. He found me and we both set up our tents. We then went down to place the camping fee in an envelope at the collection post and proceed to the visitor center, as it is customary for me to watch the park films. I learned how the landscape within Bryce Canyon changes every winter season as the snow and ice causes hoodoos to fall. Apart from the theater the visitor center was very busy. The line to talk to an employee at the desk to inquire about hikes and plans was very long, stretching through the expanse of the whole center to the front door.

After our brief stop in the visitor center we prematurely embarked on one of my most challenging hikes ever. The high elevation combined with running out of water and forgetting sunscreen made for some difficult times, and falling off the trail down a rock slide into the canyon onto a cactus just added to the challenges. One can rightfully say I was grossly unprepared this time.

Read the next entry “Falling into Bryce Canyon,” here: https://joshthehodge.wordpress.com/2017/05/25/falling-into-bryce-canyon/

Read the previous entry “The Wonder of Horseshoe Bend,” here: https://joshthehodge.wordpress.com/2017/05/06/the-wonder-of-horseshoe-bend/

The Wonder of Horseshoe Bend

The sun quietly rested for a moment on the desert horizon, sending a warm glow across the red rock expanse. It was careful and gracious enough to leave space for a cooler nighttime air to soothe the sun scorched land and let my lungs breathe deep and at ease.

Time froze as I peered over into the most miraculous sculpture- a carving deep into the land, rounded to a perfect horseshoe, capturing light in the most intricate and intimate ways, housing the famous Colorado River.

Something like this just doesn’t happen. It is crafted, for it is beautiful, engaging, capturing the spectator in awe. Canyons like this dig into the soul, carving into you the realization that there is beauty that exists beyond what you can imagine, beyond the surface, and this is only a sliver of it. It takes you by surprise and you are stunned.

I think rivers, canyons, mountains, prairies, everything we find in nature is rich in meaning and designed to draw us back to the creator, if we stop and listen. Mountains help us put our lives in perspective. Canyons show us there is so much more below the surface of life. Sometimes these things are just a testament to the beauty and wonder of God.

As I was awestruck by Horseshoe Bend, I also was energized to find the perfect view-spot to capture what I could in pictures. There were many people around, some laying on the ground with their eyes looking over the canyon rim and some seated and poised so majestically with the canyon and sunset before them. Many photographers congregated with their tripods at just the right angle, and mothers scolded their children for getting to close to the edge. And there was me, alone at peace, yet jumping and fluttering inside, excited to take in such an iconic view.


I suppose it all sort of overtook me in three phases: the peaceful awe, the restless excitement, and the deep inspiration.

I looked down at the low-lying peninsula in the canyon with the Colorado rushing around it. What a peculiar place, trapped inside a canyon yet surrounded by immense beauty and a mighty river. What would it be like to be down there, perhaps live down there at where the lands meets the very turning point of the river, to wake up and fall asleep to the rush of the river? These thoughts in this very moment inspired me to the creation of a character who now plays a large role in a novel I am writing. He lives in such a place. At this point the novel was a year in the making at about fifty pages. The entire novel is inspired by my experiences in nature and will be a raw opening into my thoughts and experiences when I am alone in the wild.


As I left Horseshoe Bend after a brief stay, I was certainly assured that it was worth the stop. Although technically a part of the Glen Canyon National Recreation Area, it is not tucked away in a park. Right off the highway there is a large dirt parking lot and a .63 mile hike up a hill and down to the canyon rim.

When I left Horseshoe Bend it was time to restock a bit on food and supplies in Page, Arizona. I was to meet a friend of mine, Dom, at Jacob Lake Campground in Kaibab National Forest, and we were planning to have dinner over a fire. I also needed to think ahead and get food and water for our stay at Bryce Canyon National Park, which would commence the following day. So, good ol’ loyal Wal-Mart once again provided what I needed. Here I also bought a heavier green sleeping bag, having learned it gets cold in the desert at these high altitudes. At the store, I noticed quite a few people I had seen at Horseshoe Bend. They were also restocking for their own adventures. The spirit of natural recreation was in the air.

Fifteen miles removed from Wal-Mart on my way to Jacob Lake, I discovered that I was running out of gas. I was in the middle of nowhere, so regretfully I had to turn around and drive back into Page for gas to avoid getting stranded.

As I was approaching Jacob Lake Campground I was no longer in desert but in a ponderosa pine forest. I had passed around a dozen deer hanging out along the side of the road. I had been in contact with Dom about the campsite. He had arrived before me. When I got there I was excited to see a familiar face that I hadn’t seen for a few years, but I was also quick to get down to business and set up my tent in the dark. I broke out True Blue, because it was cold and I wanted my better insulated tent. I also blew up my air mattress (which I do by the power of my own lungs) because I wanted to get a good night’s sleep.

I built a fire, cooked chicken sausages, and talked with Dom about our adventures thus far. I shared with him my amazement with the Petrified Forest. As we were talking, we heard strange animal yelping sounds in the distance. We speculated if they were coyotes or turkeys- but I don’t think either. It was a group of some wild animals, making the most unusual noise. With the strange sounds in the background, we coordinated a plan for the following day and then went to sleep.

It had been a long and full day. I had begun the day waking up in the Wilderness Area of the Petrified Forest. I hiked back to my car and drove all the way through the Navajo Nation, visiting the Hubell Trading Post National Historic Site, Canyon de Chelly National Monument, Monument Valley Navajo National Park, and Horseshoe Bend.

Tomorrow Dom and I would venture into the wonders of Bryce Canyon National Park and altitude and desert heat would get to me.

Check back for my account of Bryce Canyon National Park.

Read the previous entry “The Petrified Forest and the Wilderness Within,” here: https://joshthehodge.wordpress.com/2017/04/24/petrified-forest-and-the-wilderness/

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The Petrified Forest and the Wilderness Within

The term “wilderness” to me typically evoked images of dense forest growth, tall conifers, meandering rivers, and abundance of wildlife. I had not associated wilderness with mounds of petrified wood chips, a dried up wash, and a maze of peculiar rock formations looking as if they has been painted every shade of orange and pink. This was my experience in the Wilderness Area of the Petrified Forest National Park, and although it was not what I had expected, it topped my list of favorite experiences in nature.

My first order of business when I arrived at the park was securing a wilderness permit. Once I was able to do that, I had nearly a full day ahead of me to see the sites of the park before descending into the Wilderness Area. With my Star Wars soundtrack playing, to accompany the otherworld environment, I drove from one site to another, taking in the traditional tourist features of the park.

First, I walked the Giant Logs Interpretive Trail behind the Rainbow Forest Visitor Center. A small pathway meandered around many large pieces of petrified wood in the beating wind. The main feature was the largest piece of intact petrified trunk called “Old Faithful” named by Jane Mather, wife of the National Park Service’s first director Stephen Mather. She thought this piece of petrified wood was to the Petrified Forest National Park as the Old Faithful geyser was to Yellowstone. I’ve never been to Yellowstone, but surely it’s Old Faithful surpases this one in beauty and grandeur. I discovered throughout my exploring of the park that there are many things far more intriguing than this piece of petrified wood.

“Old Faithful”

Petrified wood in and of itself is interesting though, and the park has a fascinating history. Through the visitor center information and interpretive trails, I learned that it is believed that Arizona and Panama used to be connected and were a dense jungle. Then a enormous sudden flood separated the land mass and took out the entire forest. The trees were buried under mineral rich sediment and volcanic ash where they were protected and crystallized. As the rock and land eroded over time, the petrified wood  became exposed. I found two things very fascinating about this. First, I’ve been to the jungles of Panama, and it’s astounding to think that this land was shared with Panama. The pictographs even showed dinosaurs roaming the landscape- how cool. Secondly, this massive and immediate flood is totally accounted for in the book of Genesis in the Bible. It’s what we refer to as Noah’s flood. This was the first time I’d heard of a giant flood in a National Park, but throughout the course of the trip I’m going to encounter in park after park a massive flood being presented as the cause and formation of many things.

My exploration of the park took me across from the visitor center to Long Logs loop- a very “Star Wars-esque” trail. It’s true that I ran part of the trail, pretending I was wielding a lightsaber and being chased by an inquisitor, and I did try and imagine an Imperial ship descending upon me. No one else was out there, so I could indulge in my imagination.

Long Logs Loop

Connected to the Long Logs loop was a short trail leading to the Agate House- a log cabin made of petrified wood. The natives that lived in this land would build shelters out of the petrified forest wood. The National Park Service reconstructed one of such shelters. Here I dropped the Star Wars pretending and imagined what it would be like long ago to call this place home, gazing out the window of my petrified house into the endless expanse of wispy grass and petrified wood with a sky so large and expansive. It was a quiet and desolate world. I love how the National Parks are not only rich in beauty but also in history. When I read something in the parks about how the inhabitants once lived, I like to do more than simply collect that knowledge. I like to imagine and picture that existence for myself.

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Agate House

Back in my car I drove deeper into the park and stopped to hike the short Blue Mesa loop. Here rock formations were the main attraction. They appeared as giant colorful mounds composed of grey, blue, purple, and green mudstone. The path descended and slithered around these rock formations making the tourist seem very punitive in relation.

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Blue Mesa Loop

From here I proceeded to the remains of old Route 66 where an abandoned vehicle pays tribute to the once roadway. I then stopped at Pintado Point overlook where I could look down into the canyon of the wilderness area. Here the colors were rich red and pink. Apart from the wilderness area I was looking into, most of the park was on largely  flat and level ground and the wind was remarkably strong and ever present. Apart from the dark color of the petrified wood, both the grass and the rock formations, although full of color, were all sort of pale. This dull pale sort of filter covers my memory. But here, looking into the wilderness area, things were different. A diverse landscape of warm color invited me in. It was time!

View of Wilderness Area from Pintado Point

I drove to the Painted Desert Inn, which is no longer in service, but is an adobe style building preserved as a national landmark. Here I would leave my car and descend into the wilderness. In the parking lot I had dinner which consisted of beef jerky, almonds, an apple, and a Cliff bar. I then packed my backpack for the backcountry. I document exactly what I packed- Grand Trunk pillow, lightweight sleeping bag, Kelty, 2 flashlights, camera, phone, e-trek 10 gps, long underwear, contacts, glasses, miniature toothbrush, 3 liters of water, electrolyte gummies, and a Cliff Bar. There was a nice bathroom accessible from the outside at the Painted Desert Inn. I took advantage of it and made sure I brushed my teeth really well, since I wouldn’t have quite the opportunity in the wild.

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Agate House

I then began my descent from the plateau on foot on a small steep path that rounded some switchbacks and then dumped me into the canyon to explore. I felt so small, and so free. I was truly ecstatic. The beauty of it all was astounding, the freedom–incredible, and the possibilities for exploration–inspiring. I had never felt so free in my life. The girl who issued me the permit told me there was only one other permit she had issued that day, so I knew I was largely alone, that this whole endless canyon was my own world to explore. I had plugged into my etrek gps the coordinates for the Onyx bridge, where it was suggested I camp. As I was following my gps, the route took me past the camp of the beholders of the one other wilderness pass. They had found an astounding place to set up camp. The sun was setting between two rock formations and their tent was situated perfectly in front of the majestic scene

Soccer Mom’s Camp

“Oh, guys. It looks like we have another hiker.” I was spotted. The soccer-mom type of a gal jubilantly approached me. She reached out to shake my hand. “What’s your name?”

“I’m Josh.”

“Josh is here, kids,” she turned back to announce to her family.

This was very peculiar. I knew her kids had no clue who I was. They were unfazed.

“You found a great place to set up camp,” I said, even though I looked down at my gps and they were not a mile from the entrance. They were not following the proximity rules. I am a stickler for rules.

“You are welcome to camp with us,” she invited.

“Thanks, but I’m actually looking for this bridge. I pulled out the paper my crush in the visitor center had given me. It showed a small picture of the petrified wood bridge.

“Josh is going to a bridge, kids!” She exclaimed back to her family.

I didn’t understand her referencing me by name to her kids who hadn’t even met me. It was very odd. I also found it peculiar she would invite me to camp with her family without knowing anything about me except for my name.

“You want to camp with us?” She invited me again.

“No thanks. I’m going to find this bridge,” I politely responded.

“Can I take a picture of you?” I am not accustomed to strangers wanting to take my picture, but I didn’t see there being any problem with this. So, she took two pictures of me with her smartphone and thanked me. I was on my way. I was baffled, and I still am to this day. She seemed completely sober and with it, yet her actions were so strange, and I wonder why she wanted a picture of me.

I also wonder what her husband was thinking. I assume that’s who the man setting up camp with the kids was. He said nothing and was just as unfazed as the children. If I had a wife and she was taking pictures of a stranger and inviting him to camp with us, I might have a bit of a problem with that.

However, I carried on. Most of my hike was at an even lower level, as I trekked through the ravine of a wide wash. I had heard on the radio in the morning, while approaching the park, that there was a 0% chance of rain, so I figured I’d be safe in the wash. At times the wash was as deep as my height, other times a little bit taller or shorter. It felt like I was on some large avenue leading to somewhere, but really I was headed nowhere, not even the Onyx Bridge, because I couldn’t find it. The sun was setting and my gps was sending me around in circles. It was clear that the Onyx Bridge was simply not there. Perhaps it had been washed away or buried when water did flow through this area.

At 8:00p.m. I set up Kelty within the wash on a sand bar jutting off at one side. The sand was very soft like that of a beach, and I knew this would be a great place to camp since I would not have much to sleep on except the bottom of my tent and a thin sleeping bag.

I set my tent up to face a very large rock formation, almost appearing as a mountain by which the moon appeared. It was stunningly beautiful, but as much as I tried to photograph it, I simply could not capture the scene. The desert air was cooling off very fast, so I changed into my long underwear. I ate my electrolyte gummies, drank some water, and gave into complete relaxation.  I opened my tent door flap, rested my head against my pillow in my tent, buried my feet in the sand just outside my tent, and took in the incredible view before me. I felt at peace and had no concerns. Everything I needed was with me and nothing extra. It was a special moment- one of those extremely rare moments that you know are gifts. I looked at the stars, breathed the cool desert air, and drifted to sleep. 

My Camp

I slept very well next to the bright glow of the moon, and I woke up with the warm sun. It was an incredible feeling to wake up in a world of my own, where I was free to go anywhere. Although the possibilities were endless, I felt determined in the morning to find the Onyx Bridge. After an hour of searching, I still had no luck. I did however have a great and rather thrilling time climbing to the top of a giant mound sticking up in the desert. The views from atop were amazing, and I could see for miles around in all directions. The bad part was, I had not taken into account how I would come down from this thing. I searched all perimeters of this island. No route looked easy. Every possible route looked like it would involve a falling component. It was rather scary, but I chose a route. I slide down on sharp jagged pieces of petrified wood, surfing my way down the crystals. My heart was rapidly beating in exhilaration and fear. This would be the first of many times in this adventure I would climb up somewhere high not knowing how to get down. This time I descended unscathed. I wouldn’t be so lucky next time.

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Petrified Forest

Another mistake I made was that I had not marked a waypoint of where I began my descent from the Painted Desert Inn into the canyon the day before. I had to rely on pure instinct to guide me back. I did though, not a problem. After a few miles of hiking, I could see the Painted Desert Inn way up on the edge of of the canyon rim. It was a relief.

Back on the high ground of the park, I turned in my wilderness permit at the Painted Desert Visitor Center, said goodbye to the lovely Jaquacia who had issued me the permit, and I considered how, although brief, this had been perhaps my favorite experience in nature thus far. The Wilderness Area of the Petrified Forest National Park definitely rests towards the top of my list.

In my car I programed my gps to take me to the next leg of my adventure into the Navajo Nation.

Check back for my account of the Navajo Nation and Monument Valley.

Read the previous entry “National Park Girl Steal My Heart,” here: https://joshthehodge.wordpress.com/2017/04/14/national-park-girl-steals-my-heart-2/