Day 8 • Hurricane

Day 8: Saturday, August 1—

After a leisurely breakfast at the motel, we left Torrey via scenic Utah Route 12, which at first wound through lush woodlands and then up into the mountains where we were treated to fantastic panoramas. We stopped for gas high in the hills, and while there I bought Travis a couple of inexpensive rocks and took the boys to visit the outhouse.

Soon after, a little south of Boulder, Utah, we came to a section of the highway known as the Hogback, where things got much dicier for a ways. The roadway snaked along the mountain ridge, so not only was there a sheer 3000’ foot drop with no guardrail to our right, but also on our left. We were driving along a mountain crest with nothing but doom on either side. After we’d cleared the most daunting section, I pulled over, exhaled, and shot some video.

The road soon became much saner, but the scenery no less spectacular. We stopped at an overlook with many Native American artisan displays. One of the displays featured shiny black pottery. It was beautiful stuff, but I didn’t buy any and will forever rue the fact that I didn’t. A little after noon, we rolled through the town of Escalante looking for a place to eat. We ended up stopping at a 7-11 type convenience store, where we grabbed some candy bars and drinks. Further on, we stopped at a small grocery store outside of Bryce Canyon and picked up food for a picnic, including lunchmeat, cheese, bread, etc.

After paying the $10 entrance fee, we headed into Bryce Canyon National Park and drove about 20 miles to the end of the road. I believe this put us at Inspiration Point, but whatever it was called, it was popular. And that made it difficult to find a parking spot, but we did. It was about 3:00 PM by now, so we had a late lunch at the picnic grounds before taking in the sights. The park, which didn’t strike me as a “canyon” and evidently isn’t one, but rather a collection of giant natural amphitheaters, is filled with rock spires called hoodoos. They looked like orange–red stalagmites. I’d never seen anything like them, so that made them intriguing, but once you’ve seen one hoodoo, you’ve pretty much seen them all. Sharon and I took turns hiking on what seemed to be a risky stretch of path to get a better view of the park. Then we headed out of Byrce back the way we’d entered, detouring a couple of times to get another look at all those darn hoodoos and the surrounding vistas. At one stop, Sharon and I took turns hiking along another precarious path to take in a 270-degree view of a zillion hoodoos, which I believe was Sunrise Point and may well be the best viewing point in the park. Another stop featured a natural bridge. Incidentally, the altitude in the park is over 9000 feet in many places.

We left Bryce and headed for Zion National Park, first via U.S. Route 89 and then Utah Route 9. Our guidebook, Lonely Planet’s Southwest USA, disparaged the latter route, but I found nothing wrong with it. And besides it was the only route between Bryce and Zion.

While Bryce no doubt has some spectacular views, I found it to be sterile and one-dimensional, whereas Zion was diverse, lush, and full-bodied. I loved the place. We made frequent stops to take in the scenery, which is filled with rust-colored earth tones yet verdant and leafy in the low-lying areas. We drove through a very long and dark tunnel, then wound down several thousand feet of mountain, stopping along the way to take photographs and hike around. Then we drove along the Virgin River at the bottom to the Zion National Park Lodge, parked nearby, and played in the river, which didn’t amount to much more than a stream—and that was for the better because you can hop around and play in a stream. And that’s what we did. All the while daylight was quickly and sadly waning. We didn’t want our time in the park to end, but the setting sun was forcing the issue. What we learned was this: If you, or at least we, have just one day to see Bryce and Zion, spend it all at Zion.

On the way out of Zion, I pulled over to take a photo of a magnificent rock formation that reminded me of the witch’s castle in the Wizard of Oz. Outside the park, there were many appealing gift shops, most of which featured something called blue ice, as well as many charming inns and restaurants. But we wanted to get some miles in, so we passed by them all. No sooner had we done so, we wished we hadn’t. And I wished I’d bought some of that blue ice, which looked like large shards of translucent blue glass.

As we drove away, the scenery drained of its color, nightfall descended, and within an hour or so we reached the town of Hurricane. We checked into a newly built Days Inn and then went to JB Restaurant, a Denny’s type place, for dinner. The restaurant sucked, primarily because our waitress was rude. So we ate quickly and then bolted, although our waitress was nice enough to tell us that we could save 10% off our bill if we were staying at the local Ramada, so we told her that’s where we were staying. Cha-ching!

Back at the Days Inn, I took the boys to the indoor pool. As usual, Eric didn’t actually go in the water but sat on the top step. How we spent the rest of the evening is mostly a blur. I guess we watched TV. One of the problems with chain motels like Days Inn is that while they have their conveniences, they’re all pretty much the same, making it hard to distinguish one from another.