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.