Bryce Canyon

Originally, Bryce wasn't on the itinerary. Leaving Boulder, we had three days to get back to Seattle and I figured maybe we would have to start driving northwest, not farther south. But at breakfast, we decided it didn't make that much difference and that Bryce would be worth a few extra miles. Plus, I wanted to drive that road south to Escalante anyway.

Dark clouds and rain threatened, and I guess there were a few drops, but when the sun came out, Bryce just lit up. There were crowds - no surprise. The tour buses and the guide books routinely include Zion and Bryce - which is one thing that makes Capital Reef and Grand Staircase-Escalante a little less crazy.

Bryce Canyon is a bit of a misnomer - since it's sort of a one-sided canyon. The bulk of the red rock hoodoos are around the edge of large bowls in the side of a high ridge. I think this might be better referred to around here as a break (as in Cedar Breaks National Monument, nearby), although the Visitor's Center also referred to the bowls as amphitheaters. But whatever you call it, the red and orange and white sedimentary rocks of the Claron Formation (old lake beds - limestones, silts, sands) weather to form a fantastic landscape of pinnacles and fins and narrow slot canyons.

The Colorado Plateau is basically a thick stack of rock layers - these are pretty much at the top of the stack. The precambrian metamorphic rocks at the bottom of the Grand Canyon are the basement. Zion and Capitol Reef and Canyonlands are all in the middle.

Boulder UT

Boulder (a couple hundred people and a sharp bend in Utah Hwy 12) is located between the Aquarius Plateau on the west and the canyon country to the east. It and Escalante to the south are caught in the political battles between folks wanting more federal management in this region and those wanting less. Both towns are capitalizing on outdoor recreation and a lot more tourists looking for alternatives to the traditional suite of National Parks in southern Utah, but there are also those who believe that more traditional resource based industries would be better for the local communities (or simply begrudge outside "control" over their lands).

The Boulder Mountain Lodge was a nice contrast to the isolation of the lower parts of the Burr Trail. It would have been nice to hang out longer, but a bit pricey, too. The next morning, I rode my bike several miles back down the Burr Trail. Pretty much had it to myself. And added yet another wonderful sunrise bike ride to my trip's highlights. Breakfast, and dinner the night before, were at the Hell's Backbone Grill.

The road from Boulder to Escalante is one of the country's most touted scenic byways. For good reason. And freshly repaved, too! And at the bottom of the hill, where the road crosses the Escalante, there's the Kiva Koffeehouse. Nice morning.

Burr Trail

The Burr Trail winds its way up from Glen Canyon (Lake Powell) to Boulder through Utah's southern canyon country and what is now the southern portion of Capital Reef National Park and northern portions of Grand Staircase-Escalante NM.

It began as a cattle trail, but is now a relatively good, albeit lightly traveled road. A central section remains unpaved, including its famous switchbacks up through the Waterpocket Fold, but with the Subaru's clearance and dry weather was no problem. The paved sections are fine - though they cross a couple of low washes where heavy rains might present a challenge (and a danger).

The whole road is very isolated, however, so I was glad we'd fixed the slow leak in the tire while back in Taos. We passed only two cars in the first fifty miles or so - a few more when we got back to the paved section nearer to Boulder itself. Of course, as we headed away from the Lake, we noticed the AC was fading in and out. Not a big deal in itself - the temperatures were cooling as we climbed anyway - but I learned two weeks later back in Seattle, it was a secondary consequence of the engine cooling fans having given out -- glad I didn't realize that at the time!

Lake Powell

Our route across southern Utah took us from Blanding, west to Natural Bridges National Monument, and then on UT 276 down to Hall's Crossing on Lake Powell. The temperatures rose as we dropped down to lake level (below 4000' and the first time we'd been anywhere this near sea level since somewhere in western Nebraska). It was well into the 90s at the lake.

We lined up (with two other cars and two motorcycles) on the big paved ramp and got on the 2PM boat. It's a 30-minute crossing to Bullfrog and the westward continuation of UT 276. We stopped at the marina and I walked out and picked up some more water and drinks at the store, anticipating the long, isolated drive we still had in front of us that afternoon. It was partly the heat and partly the remote location, but there was something sort of surreal about the Bullfrog Marina. A little hub of activity, all centered on houseboats and jet skis and other pleasure craft, on a floating terminal in the middle of the desert.

The ferry's not a big one, but certainly far too big to pull in on a trailer. I assume they must have had to assemble it down here - it's not like they could sail it in from some shipyard somewhere.

Mesa Verde

We spent two nights at the Far View Lodge inside the Park, which made our sightseeing easier and gave us a little more time to decompress - the drive in and out of the park is great, but winding and long. I didn't want to have to do it more than once each direction.  The Lodge was fine, although these Park concessionaire operations always leave a little to be desired. Ditto with the dining room and the cafeteria.

The highlight was the cliff dwellings, as it should be. We headed down early and signed up for back to back walking tours of both the Cliff Palace and Balcony House. Which were great. They require a little dexterity - big ladders and small openings - but nothing we couldn't handle.

Like the other ancient Pueblo sites, it's difficult not to be impressed by their age and what they say of southwestern culture almost 1000 years ago. But the cliff dwellings have their own aesthetic character, too, with their striking positions on the canyon walls.

Ouray

By mid-afternoon, we had gotten back to within 20 miles or so of where we had started that morning. Our circuitous route had been necessary, but nice - pretty classic Colorado, with the Black Canyon thrown in.

I first encountered Ouray on my grand 1976 walkabout, the day after I climbed Mount Elbert and just a few days after almost getting washed out of the Big Thompson Canyon (Estes Park: 2007). My last ride had dropped me in town and I walked up (it's a steep Main Street) to the switchbacks above town, where I spent hours watching cars and jeep tours pass by before finally crawling under trees somewhere to sleep. I was on the rode again early the next morning and I think I spent the next night along the Santa Fe mainline just outside Williams, Arizona.

Ouray, like all the other towns around it, was built on mining. Silver, mainly, and some of the other minerals often found in similar hydrothermally altered areas. The mountainsides are red as a result of the heavily oxidized minerals. The stream beds are stained red for the same reasons, though mining practices accentuate any natural tendency to rust. The ground beneath these mountains is riddled with small and large tunnels, at least one of which go all the way through to Telluride, the next valley west.

The road from Ouray over the top to Silverton is impressive (and expensive enough to be called the million dollar highway - although that would only buy a few thousand feet of guardrail in today's dollars). As noted, the roads I really wanted to take were the jeep roads back to Lake City or up above Telluride -- maybe another trip with more time and on a tour where someone else drives.

Black Canyon of the Gunnison

It's only 15 miles or so in a straight line from Lake City over to Ouray and Silverton. A little bit farther if you drive your ATV over Engineer or Cinnamon Pass. But much farther if you have to drive around by way of Montrose, which we did. On the other hand, the drive down the Lake Fork was beautiful and despite some concerned looks from my copilot, took the Blue Mesa cutoff over to US 50. It probably saved some miles; it may have saved some time.

Taking the long way around gave us an excuse to visit the Black Canyon - not that we should have needed one. The best thing about this canyon is that it really looks like what a canyon should look like. Deep, vertical, sort of scary. And the rocks are beautiful, too.

Lake City

Lake City is tucked into a deep valley a long way from pretty much anything. We arrived on Monday evening, at the end of the Labor Day weekend, and were warned that the hordes from the previous days might have eaten most of the food in town. We ended up at the Cannibal Grill and finding food didn't seem to be a problem.

The drive from Taos had been very pretty, but long, including both Wolf Creek and Slumgullion Passes. Coffee for me in Pagosa Springs. A quick drive-by tour of Creede. And some great views of the uppermost reaches of the Rio Grande Valley.

We stayed at the North Face Lodge - the layout of a motel, but the trappings of a lodge. I felt it would have been particularly convenient if we could have parked our dirt bikes or our jeeps right outside the door. The bakery, just down the hill, was exactly what we needed the next morning. Although there were signs warning of bears, there was nothing about not feeding the dog. The very patient and ultimately successful dog.

This spring, I had wondered if there might be a scenic short-cut from Lake City over to Ouray and Silverton - a short distance as the crow flies - but found that although there were roads, they were for real off-road vehicles, not tourists in Outbacks. So the next day we took the long way around.

Taos Pueblo

Possibly the oldest continuously inhabited settlement in the United States, although there must be some interesting debates about the history of the other pueblo villages in the southwest. But regardless, a village long before Europeans ever arrived in North America. A village that was standing much as it does today when the great cathedrals of Europe were built. A village that had been around more than half a millennium before the United States were even imagined.

As in other aboriginal cultures, but particularly in the southwest tribes, the Pueblo reflects a complex and fascinating blend of native and Christian spiritual traditions (Gran Quivara: 2014). And here, where water and electricity have not been added, a messy mix of ancient and modern lifestyles. It sounds like many of the pueblo's residents may live offsite, reserving their pueblo space for ceremonial and cultural uses.

I find it difficult to balance my fascination with these cultures with my consciousness of being a gawker or of sneaking glimpses into someone else's life. Maybe this is an inevitable, and perhaps not inappropriate, consequence of cultural tourism anywhere, but it still seems a little strange (as it probably should).