Natural Bridges suffers from big brother syndrome. It's possibly the tiniest National Park in Utah, just the 3 bridges with a road and a trail to connect them (plus an overlook where you can see bits of a cliff dwelling). The difference between bridges and arches, if I have this right, is that bridges span a river or some sort of water, and are carved out by it, while arches are formed by different forces. I had been speculating on that prior to reading about it and had decided it was just a marketing thing. At any rate, I'd been planning to hike the 8.6 mile trail that connects all three bridges, but when I inquired at the VC, the ranger said not to bother--it's only a 10-minute hike down to Owachomo, and the canyon that leads to it is (in his opinion) boring. Just hike from Kachina to Sipapu, he said. So glad I took that advice. I was pretty done with canyons by the time I got back to Kachina, and definitely didn't fancy 3 more miles to Owachomo. I got very lucky with the rain--it poured intermittently all day, but not while I was hiking. I really enjoyed the ladders and railings on the steep hike down (less so the hike up), and the canyon was pretty, but anti-climactic after Canyonlands. There were a lot of green plants and deciduous trees to hike through in the canyon, which was really nice. Each bridge was different, and scenic in its own way. They are old, young, and middle-aged (determined by thickness)--there is some speculation as to how much longer Owachomo is going to last. Anywhere else, I probably would have been blown away by the whole thing. With all the scenery here, though, it was just another day at the office.
I did get blown away later. Driving away from Natural Bridges, I was on a pretty typical Utah country road, with scrubby vegetation and open range. Other than some cows, the most diverting thing I saw was a guy, laying on the side of the road with his head on the white line, listening to his Ipod, totally oblivious to anything else. Whatever. So I'm cruising along, when suddenly a sign announces that the pavement is going to end. Huh? 15 mph. Huh? Turns out I was on top of a mesa and had to get down. So somebody cut a road winding down the face of the mesa. It was one of the most awesome things I've ever seen. Suddenly, there's a flat valley floor hundreds of feet below me, with Monument Valley popping up in the distance, and bunches of other colorful formations. I wound slowly down the mesa front, marveling all the way. I don't know how to articulate how amazing it was. Moki Dugway is something everyone should see before they die. It's the only way to get it.
I was in a state of awe for quite a while. It was hard to make any time when I had to keep stopping to take pictures. Monuments, painted desert, canyons, mesas, odd rock formations. Unbelievable. Then I got to Kayenta and the spell was broken. It is a town without vegetation or aesthetics. A colorless village built on a massive parking lot. When you drive by a subdivision, you can see every single house; there's nothing to block your view. Kids bounced on trampolines on "lawns" that were indistinguishable from driveways. I could not live there. After that, I was just tired, and worried that my free campground was going to be full.
Getting to Navajo National Monument seemed to take an eternity. The turnoff would never come, then it came and it was miles more to the park. Hotel parking lots in Kayenta were jammed, and my guidebook had warned that the campground gets full in the summer. Sunset was approaching. As I drove, I scouted potential places I could camp in a pinch. Difficult in the southwest, where there are no stands of trees to kip behind. I needn't have worried--there were sites to choose from. I randomly chose one of the two campgrounds--found out later the other one had running water. Had no tent stakes, but as it wasn't raining, that wasn't an emergency (as long as I find them soon). Set up the tent, parked myself at the picnic table, wrote postcards, looked at the stars, and enjoyed myself immensely. Why don't I camp more often?
I did get blown away later. Driving away from Natural Bridges, I was on a pretty typical Utah country road, with scrubby vegetation and open range. Other than some cows, the most diverting thing I saw was a guy, laying on the side of the road with his head on the white line, listening to his Ipod, totally oblivious to anything else. Whatever. So I'm cruising along, when suddenly a sign announces that the pavement is going to end. Huh? 15 mph. Huh? Turns out I was on top of a mesa and had to get down. So somebody cut a road winding down the face of the mesa. It was one of the most awesome things I've ever seen. Suddenly, there's a flat valley floor hundreds of feet below me, with Monument Valley popping up in the distance, and bunches of other colorful formations. I wound slowly down the mesa front, marveling all the way. I don't know how to articulate how amazing it was. Moki Dugway is something everyone should see before they die. It's the only way to get it.
I was in a state of awe for quite a while. It was hard to make any time when I had to keep stopping to take pictures. Monuments, painted desert, canyons, mesas, odd rock formations. Unbelievable. Then I got to Kayenta and the spell was broken. It is a town without vegetation or aesthetics. A colorless village built on a massive parking lot. When you drive by a subdivision, you can see every single house; there's nothing to block your view. Kids bounced on trampolines on "lawns" that were indistinguishable from driveways. I could not live there. After that, I was just tired, and worried that my free campground was going to be full.
Getting to Navajo National Monument seemed to take an eternity. The turnoff would never come, then it came and it was miles more to the park. Hotel parking lots in Kayenta were jammed, and my guidebook had warned that the campground gets full in the summer. Sunset was approaching. As I drove, I scouted potential places I could camp in a pinch. Difficult in the southwest, where there are no stands of trees to kip behind. I needn't have worried--there were sites to choose from. I randomly chose one of the two campgrounds--found out later the other one had running water. Had no tent stakes, but as it wasn't raining, that wasn't an emergency (as long as I find them soon). Set up the tent, parked myself at the picnic table, wrote postcards, looked at the stars, and enjoyed myself immensely. Why don't I camp more often?
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