One summer at Bullfrog, on the stark shoreline of Lake Powell, the temperature climbed to around 120 degrees for two weeks. During that time we discovered a way out of the heat by driving up into the highlands. The nearby Henry Mountains rise up 12,000 feet to sub alpine meadows. Gazing eastward across a wide martian landscape, our vision was unhindered all the way out to the La Sal Mountains in Colorado. We couldn't really make sense of the landscape in between. It literally looked like red martian satellite imagery.
This past spring I decided it was time to visit Canyonlands National Park. I've only heard good things about it, and although it was right next to Lake Powell, the logistics in getting there during that time were out of balance with the million other, closer places that were available for exploration. I left Alaska, and arrived in Utah just in time for a freak April snow storm. I got to drive through snow most of the way from Salt Lake to Moab. Knowing the storm was coming I didn't take long to settle into town before heading up into the park that afternoon. I needed exercise just to stay awake anyway.
Canyonlands is divided into three naturally defined geologic areas (although a fourth area exists at the almost inaccessible west side of the park). The afternoon when I visited the Island in the Sky District, the most accessible area, the temperature was a foggy 26 degrees with blown snow squalls. I wasn’t happy about it at all. I had left Alaska precisely to get away from the snow. The good news was that although I was walking through a blizzard, I was quite comfortable, since the storm was still quit a bit warmer than I’d been most of the time for the previous 6 months. It was actually a nice day to walk the dog, although my dog would immediately kill himself in such a place.
Another squall approaches. Quickly too, it only took a few minutes for it to overtake me.
Walking in snow in the desert was a new experience for me. Slickrock, covered in ice, is definitely some slick rock. That had to be kept in mind when walking near cliffs, which was usually where I was. The snow also covered up small groups of cacti. Retracing my steps to find my way back in the poor visibility that first day I saw numerous cacti sticking out from my footprints. Luckily I never got pricked on the sides of my shoes.
That morning it was just perfect in the sunlight, but like a refrigerator in the shade.
In the distance, the Henry Mountains in sight proved to me that many years earlier i was looking out across Canyonlands.
Yet another hazard created by the sticky snow were snow bridges that covered up wide joints between blocks of stone. The cracks were big enough to fall through, sometimes hundreds of feet, so upon seeing a rift come in from the cliff edge and disappear under the snow, I felt it was wise to make a wide berth around it.
I needed to go here for sure.
This just looks ridiculously impossible. I had to find a way.
Wanted to go here too.
The Green River
The next morning I returned. I had hoped to get up before dawn to catch a sunrise picture, but that didn’t happen. It’s such a long drive from Moab that by the time I got back to the hotel I would have had to gone straight to bed right after dinner in order to wake up in time. I did manage to get back to the park pretty early. Somehow the following morning was crystal clear. The sunlight was warm enough that I only needed a light jacket despite an air temperature of 26F. In sunlight the redrock covered in snow was very pretty, and I soon found myself leaving the viewpoints and wandering far off along the edge to see how far I could get. The views below were spectacular, and I could clearly see the Henry Mountains far to the West. For those of you who worked at Bullfrog and went up into the Henry Mountains, I can now say with certainty that you were looking out over Canyonlands without knowing what you were seeing. I vowed to come back for some sunset pictures, but I never did. There were simply too many other options to take advantage of.
I couldn't see the bottom of this canyon, so i couldn't tell how tall that column was.
There was so much detail to see you couldn't even make sense of it.
It looked dry and almost sunny in the bottom of the canyons.
