Hickman Bridge

3/25/07

My first hike on my little adventure went to Hickman Bridge in Capitol Reef. It's a short 2-mile round trip hike under a natural arch that took me two hours to complete. Hey! Leave me alone - I was playing snap-happy tourist. I started out on the trail at about 11 and figured I could easily run through these 2 miles then head up the road to hike the Chimney Rock trail. But playing tourist can take time and I wanted to see all that I could.

After grabbing the trail guide near the parking lot, I climbed slowly away from the Fremont River and soon stood atop the cliffs of Capitol Reef. The shimmering white stone of Capitol Dome filled my view eastward, the Fremont River valley stretched out to the west. From here I traveled through wash and desert, over and around slickrock. Up in the cliff, the trail guide pointed out, was a granary built by the Fremont people who had inhabited the valley centuries past. I got as close as I dared, without disturbing the site, but close enough still to peer inside. It was, of course, empty. Still I tried to imagine what it might have been like at the height of Fremont civilization when the granary was stocked and ready for leaner days.

I soon came upon Hickman Bridge: 125 feet high with a span of 133 feet. The first arch I had ever seen was when I was a child at Rialto Beach in Washington. My parents had taken my sister & I out to Hole-in-the-Wall, which had been carved out by centuries of waves. But Hole-in-the-Wall had nothing on Hickman. I sat below the arching span for a snack and listen to the sounds of the desert. A breeze wafted by, carrying with it the sounds of a family exploring the desert in their own way. A chipmunk scuttled by in search of crumbs, eyeing me suspiciously - or was that hopefully?

I later worked my way to an overlook that gave my a wondrous view of the Fremont Valley, the orchards lining the river's banks, and the plateau on the other side. It was difficult for me to go, but I promised myself that next year I would return here; explore this country and sit for as long as I wanted to listen to the wind - or listen to nothing at all.

Capitol Reef

3/24/07 - 3/25/07

Capitol Reef National Park hadn't been on my original plans for my road trip. I was expecting to get all the way to Boulder, UT and go hiking out of there before moving southward. But, a friend had asked me if I'd be heading there and to check out the Diablo Cafe in Torrey if I did. As I was looking at the map after crossing into Utah, I noticed how close Capitol Reef was to my original destination and decided to swing on through and check it out. After all, this was an exploratory trip.

I saw Capitol Reef before I knew it was there. The red toned cliffs glowing in the afternoon sun rose above the prairie floor, a creation of nature's monumental brilliance, set off by the grey clouds overhead. I eagerly drove closer, becoming more excited as the cliffs grew larger against the sky. This was exactly the scenery I was hoping to see. I have lived most of my life on the wet side of the mountains where you can't see the trees for the forest. As a child, I looked forward to the vacations that took us to the sparse pine forests east of the cascades - to open spaces and views through the trees. To be able to see these cliffs long before I reached them was a perfect vision.

I found camping in the park, a little relieved as I hadn't made any camping plans prior to my arrival. In fact about half of the open spaces were still open - their season had yet to start. So there I set up my tent at the base of sandstone cliffs, under the cottonwood trees surrounded by deer poop - at least I would know what footsteps awakened me in the night. I was able to settle in for a contented night's sleep in a wondrous land.

Morning came as a bit of a surprise; it is rather amazing how well I sleep without Michael snoring in my ear. I could have stayed in my warm sleeping bags (yes, that is a plural and I'm happy for them) but it was the sunrise I was after, so quickly dressed to drive up the scenic road behind Fruita. The sun comes up over the waterpocket fold from the "wrong" direction, however I stood atop the plateau and watched the sun warm the cliffs as it progressed above the formations to the east. As I stood there photographing the beautiful site before me, I realized that nothing stirred - not a breeze, nor a bird. It was silent, a perfect silence that I couldn't break. it enwrapped me in it's embrace - a comforting silence holding my unease at bay. Here I didn't feel alone in a desert but welcome and surrounded by friends.

Then a bird sang and another answered - the spell had been broken. I drove back to Fruita and the visitor's center to explore the old buildings and orchards. A few of the fruit trees had already started to bloom, their pink and white blossoms set like glittering gems against the red cliffs. Here I saw a critter I hadn't seen before, familiar but not at the same time. Upon asking the ranger later I was told it was a yellow-bellied marmot. That made sense - as it did look a little similar to our hoary marmots here in the cascades. My encounter with the marmot was soon followed by the largest herd of mule deer I had ever encountered, grazing around the old schoolhouse. They paid me little mind as I photographed them and the school. I had no idea they traveled in such large herds - almost like elk in a way.

The hike I decided to take - Hickman Bridge - will have to be detailed later.

The Diablo Cafe, however, was closed for the season.