Snowy Joshua Trees and The Return Home to Bishop

 1/20 - The Caliente motel was my least favorite accommodation during my road trip. There was food and coffee available for a continental breakfast, but a sign in the kitchen read, "limit one per person." This made me roll my eyes and made me want to drive away as soon as possible. 

After brushing off a layer of powdery snow from my car from the overnight storm, I was back on the road, heading west. Luckily, this day was completely sunny after the snowstorm moved off overnight. I felt myself settling into the kind of zone where I only focus on the road in front of me in my desire to go home. But at one point, I snapped out of it when I saw something I hadn't seen before: a grove of Joshua trees with a fresh coating of snow! 

Of course I had to stop to photograph this scene because the early morning light made this snowy, Mojave Desert landscape magical. It was a wonderful conclusion to the road trip, just one more thing I hadn't seen along with all of the other places and things I hadn't seen before with my own eyes. 

I departed from this blanketed grove of Joshua trees and raced along the lonely, long and straight highways of Nevada's interior. These are the kind of roads that stretch forever, that allow you to drive as fast as you wish because there are no state troopers to enforce speed. There is just sagebrush, vast valleys and jagged low-elevation mountains. 

I stopped in Tonopah for lunch and then continued over Montgomery Pass. Eventually I glimpsed the familiar shapes of the Eastern Sierra and a few miles later, I had returned to Bishop with a sigh of relief. 

So ended my epic road trip. This 13-day, 2,500-mile journey certainly satisfied one of my fantasies. I had been studying maps of those parts of Utah and Arizona for a long time. To finally be able to make it a reality meant the world to me. I took nearly 4,000 photos on this trek split between the Nikon and my old and venerable iPhone 6. 

This adventure actually exceeded my expectations. While I had a feeling before my departure that this was going to be one of the greatest things I had done in my life, the reality was that it was even greater than I thought it would be. The two nights in Monument Valley surpassed any fantasy of mine, becoming the best part of my travels, and Arches National Park was my second favorite. These two locations presented boatloads of some sort of natural energy to me, while I stared in awe every which way I could look.

The main reason for the trip was the hike to The Wave in the Pariah Canyon Wilderness on the Utah/Arizona border; it was my third favorite part of the road trip. I didn't feel any energy there like I did in Monument Valley and Arches National Park, but the landscape was totally alien and fascinating to me, perfect for photography. 

3/19 - In the days and weeks that have passed since this road trip, I have been fantasizing about other road trips in the future. I would love to go back to Canyonlands and properly explore the park with an off-road vehicle. I want to explore the Escalante River Canyon more and return to Arches. I will return to Monument Valley someday. Perhaps I should do the next trip during a warmer part of the year...

Other ideas of mine have been to drive to Glacier National Park in Montana. I want to see Banff National Park and Jasper National Park in the Canadian Rocky Mountains. I want to drive across the continent of Australia on a motorcycle and see Uluru! 

But for now, I'll lay low and save some money. Writing about this road trip has been a pleasure and I will savor the memories for the rest of my life. 

Capitol Reef National Park Sunrise, Boulder Mountain and More Snowstorms

1/19 - I awoke early in darkness. Today I had a plan for an early morning hike to Hickman Natural Bridge, a natural arch at the end of a short trail in Capitol Reef National Park. The hotel I stopped at for the night was conveniently just a few miles away from the park, so I ordered pancakes from the hotel restaurant as soon as it opened. 

While I stuffed myself with the fluffy pancakes and satisfied my caffeine addiction with coffee, a vibrant and intense sunrise took shape through the window. I found myself getting anxious and impatient waiting to pay for the check so when I finally got on the road, I was speeding in the bone-chilling early morning cold. The more I drove, the more the sky lit up. I began to talk to myself. 

"You gotta stop somewhere now, dude."

I stopped at the first turnout I could find and sprinted up a hill for a better view of the sky. The heavens were on fire. This was the most intense sunrise of the trip because the entire sky lit up. I photographed until the sun rose over the Henry Mountains, satisfied that I caught some excellent images and feeling gratitude that I could witness this incredible scene. I then took my time driving to the Hickman Bridge trailhead. 

The trail to Hickman Bridge is relatively short, about 2.5 miles round trip. It starts at the side of the Fremont River and then climbs up the cliff. Considering this was winter and the recent snowfall, my trekking poles came in handy on this icy trail. I soon reached the arch, a massive span that made me feel small. I did feel some energy here, but nothing compared to Delicate Arch, Double Arch or Monument Valley. At one point I began speaking out loud to a point on the rock wall, asking it if it was the spirit that guarded this arch. 

I had the trail and arch to myself the entire time. I spent several minutes just sitting in silence, meditating. I eventually returned to my car, ready to continue on my journey back west. 

I wanted to drive Utah State Route 12 again, this time in better weather. The first time I drove SR 12, half of it was in decent conditions, but the second half was in a snowstorm. This time I drove over Boulder Mountain again, this time marveling at the views that eluded me during the heavy snowstorm. From one vista point on the highway, you can see for miles looking towards the Henry Mountains. The red cliffs of Capitol Reef were impressively visible. 

As I continued along Boulder Mountain, I wondered how the hell I successfully drove that road in a snowstorm. The thought made me laugh out loud because my bravery - or stupidity - helped me accomplish something. I didn't let the snowstorm hold me back. I still should have installed my snow chains or, at the very least, waited a few hours to leave my cozy motel room in Boulder. 

But I retraced my steps from just a few days before. I drove through the Escalante River Canyon and found the trailhead to more well-known arches and a waterfall, and eventually stopped for lunch in the town of Escalante. This little town becomes a ghost town of sorts in winter because not nearly as many tourists such as myself take this route this time of year.

From Escalante, I approached Bryce Canyon National Park again, wondering if I should stay there for the night so I could get a sunrise photo from the rim. As I drove through the park, however, it was snowing heavily, so I accepted to myself that I should keep heading west. I was at the point of my trip where I was ready to go home, having had more than enough excitement and wonder for two weeks. 

From Bryce Canyon, I drove through more small towns and windy mountain roads shrouded in snowstorms. I reached Cedar City after racing along Interstate 15 for a short time. From Cedar City, I turned west on minor state highways, the kind of which run straight forever through featureless, rural countryside. After driving through even more snowstorms on narrow, two-lane roads, I became fried for the day. I tapped out and stopped in Caliente, NV for the night in a small motel where my room welcomed me with a rank odor of stale cigarette smoke.

After ordering fish and chips from a local restaurant, I settled into bed inside this old-fashioned and tired room, and enjoyed episodes of "The Office" on the small television. 

Canyonlands National Park, Dead Horse Point State Park and Goblin Valley State Park

 1/17/2023 - I got up early again, wolfed down some breakfast at the Hyatt and then headed out on the open road again. My destination was another unfamiliar one: Canyonlands National Park. 

Canyonlands is a vast expanse of canyons through which the Green and Colorado rivers have carved over millions of years. This area of Utah is an off-roader's fantasy because you could spend a lifetime exploring the nooks and crannies of this high-desert, ancient park. Canyonlands is split into four different districts: Island in the Sky, Needles, The Maze, and the rivers themselves; I tried to visit the Island in the Sky district because I wanted to see Mesa Arch, an icon of Canyonlands that provides excellent sunrise views from high in the sky. 

But as I drove and climbed elevation from Moab, the sky became darker. Precipitation began falling. Snow began to stick on the road. The storm was here. So I stopped at the visitor center to consult the rangers about weather conditions. We came to the conclusion that it would be better to return the next day because by then the storm would have passed. They were forecasting sunny conditions. 

So, I returned to Moab. A light rain was falling. The storm would batter the entire area this day, so my options were limited. I decided to explore Utah State Route 128, another national scenic byway. The highway follows the Colorado River at a bottom of a massive canyon, surrounded by imperious red and orange walls. Even though I was driving through rain and eventually sleet, I was impressed by how the top of the cliffs were shrouded in mist. It gave the area a feel of mystery. 

I stopped at a resort on the banks of the river for lunch and a beer. Meanwhile, the snow level was slowly dropping. After I finished lunch and returned to the car, wet snow was now falling so I returned to Moab. In an effort to avoid spending money at a restaurant or bar, I decided to go to the library to wait for the snow to stop. In the meantime, I read a Bill Bryson book about some of his adventures across the United States, and I wrote about my previous days on the road trip using my old iPhone 6. 

But the snow didn't stop. It was getting thicker and began to stick on the roads. After a few hours inside the quiet and relaxed library, I decided to return to the Hyatt and reserve a room for a third night. The snowstorm didn't give me much of a choice! This time I reserved a room with a king size bed, because why not? I made the most of the late afternoon and evening by washing my dirty laundry and then soaking in the outdoor hot tub while snow fell. 

I wasn't able to do exactly what I wanted this day, but I was able to pivot to something almost as magical. I had the outdoor hot tub to myself for a while, savoring the moment of ecstasy of soaking in a hot tub during a snowstorm. This is a simple pleasure, something everyone should experience once in their lives. It turned out to be one of my favorite evenings of the trip. 

1/18/23 - The storm dropped 3-4 inches of snow in Moab. The roads were a mess. At one point the southbound lanes of the state highway had been closed down. The hotel power went out sometime during the night, so they had to get power off emergency generators. They had trouble staffing the kitchen for breakfast, but they did manage to get out a simple continental meal which was fine with me. 

After having a chat with an older couple about photography at the breakfast table, I again set out in an attempt to reach Canyonlands National Park. I left before dawn, racing down the highway and appreciating the fog that had settled over the totally white landscape. Again I climbed in elevation, noticing that the red-orange buttes I saw the day before were now coated in snow and that the road before me was becoming progressively icier. However, it was plowed, so I had hope. 

At the turnoff for Dead Horse Point State Park, I stopped the car in the middle of the road. Here, the road was no longer plowed. It was buried under a foot of fresh powder with just a couple of tire tracks evidence that there was a route here. 

I sighed. I was this close! I couldn't turn back now! I had driven more than a thousand miles to this point. So, I continued, following the tire tracks in my Camry, occasionally slipping and sliding in the fresh snow. Four miles of this, again I had begun to question my own intelligence. Again I thought about the snow chains in my trunk. 

Thankfully, I reached the visitor center in one piece. However, the road beyond the visitor center was closed due to the amount of snow on the roadway and inside the park. At that point, I accepted the situation. I had genuinely tried to visit Canyonlands, but it just wasn't meant to be this time. 

I stood in the plowed-yet-icy parking lot and decided to take some pictures of the fresh blanket of snow in the early morning light. There were still great photos. I then bit the bullet and installed snow chains on the front two tires of my car, muttering to myself the entire time. As soon as I finished installing them, I threw my arms into the air in a victory formation. I was proud of myself because I had thought it would be much more difficult to install them. 

Off I went, back through the fresh powder on top of the unplowed road, but this time I turned towards Dead Horse Point State Park, centered on a cliff overlooking Canyonlands on the north side of the park. The name "Dead Horse Point" refers to ranchers to kept their stock in this area, but consistently lost horses due to hot temperatures. This park offers a breathtaking view of endless canyons, rock spires and of course, the everlasting Colorado River, the main culprit behind this landscape. 

Normally, this view provides plenty of orange-red sandstone rock and the brown waters of the Colorado. On this day, I was treated to a landscape covered in a layer of fresh, white snow, something you don't often see. I was one of the few people who made it to the park on this morning, so I was lucky enough to hear silence. 

From Dead Horse Point, I returned to Moab but decided to explore State Route 128 again. This time the canyon was weather free with a blaze of sunshine. The canyon was dusted with snow which made it even more impressive, even more regal. I easily made it into Castle Valley, a part of Utah I hadn't heard of until a month before the trip when I saw some photos of it on a photography forum. Castle Valley is a small town on the border with Colorado, surrounded by massive cliffs and buttes, including Castleton, a tall, solo sandstone rock spire. I had the road all to myself while I snapped photos, again enjoying the silence and savoring the view.

The rest of SR 128 was a pleasure to drive. I was treated to sights such as Fisher Towers, a well-known feature in the rock climbing community, and more buttes caressed with powder snow. Eventually I connected with Interstate 70 and rushed towards my next destination in the afternoon sunshine: Goblin Valley State Park. 

Goblin Valley is a creepy place, particularly when I visited during Golden Hour. This state park contains a vast valley composed of thousands of sandstone hoodoos that look like tiny humanoid people; in other words, goblins! I was completely alone during my visit and when I strolled through the valley, I had a feeling of being watched. I could have sworn I heard footsteps to my left...

I didn't spend much time here because I was trying to get as far west as I could before darkness. Goblin Valley is another place that I'll have to revisit someday. So I raced west towards the setting sun, passing Hanksville and Coleville and by the time I passed through Capitol Reef National Park, darkness had taken rule along with frigid cold. I stopped at the first hotel I encountered and checked into a room for the night where I slept soundly once again.