Bryce Canyon to Moab

As we mentioned in our last post, in order to exit Zion on the east side of the park, one must pass through a tunnel that was carved into the mountain in 1919ish. It is 1 mile long, 13’1” tall and 14’ wide. In other words, juuust a little bit bigger than Franklin. No big deal, right? RVs come into and out of the park daily. The deal is that they have certain hours that you are allowed to drive through, and you need a special permit and clearance. There is a ranger at one end who radios to the other end of the tunnel to stop all traffic coming the opposite direction, and then you are allowed to proceed through the tunnel driving in the middle of the road. Oh, and to get to said tunnel, you must first drive up the side of a cliff. The switchbacks are numerous and precipitous and the grade is about 9% for a couple miles. It is basically the RV equivalent of climbing a rope ladder over a pit of doom. 

So, bright and early, we made our way through the park, up to the tunnel and through to the other side of the park with lots of oohs and ahhs and no problems! It was by far the quickest way to Bryce Canyon about 2 hrs away, which was important because after our trip to Bryce, we were headed on to Moab, another 4+ hours drive through the wilds of southern Utah. 

Of course, the drive to Bryce was another scenic marvel. Each place we drove through would reveal new, unique rock features and landscapes that were somehow different and more amazing than the last drive. We honestly needed to have a geologist with us to explain what each new formation, mountain, cliff and plateau was and how it was formed and from what geological era in the space/time continuum. And that was even more true once we arrived at Bryce Canyon National Park. It is high desert and ponderosa pines that you drive through to get there, but then you come to the edge of a canyon that is flaming orange with humongous hoodoos. Hoodoos are spires of rock that have not eroded, while the rest of the earth around them have crumbled and eroded over millions of years. And there are miles and miles of this landscape. We, of course, decided to hike through some of them to really get the experience. The boys described it as the world’s largest drip castle. You start at the top of the canyon and hike down into the hoodoos. We chose a hike called the Queen’s Garden, and true to our nature, we ended up hiking much further and doing a big loop through the Navajo trail as well. We loved all the formations and vistas but were surprised (again) at the crowds! So many people out enjoying our national parks, but really weird to have to scootch to the edge of plunging cliffs to allow the 6’ distancing for Covid safety. Also, these were not simple hikes on a flat paved surface! The hike back up to the rim of the canyon was long, steep and lacked railings! Makes it tough to take selfies, that’s for sure.

The drive to Moab was long and remote. We skirted the Rockies and it seemed as though we were literally in the middle of nowhere after driving hours in with very few towns or even exits off the interstate! Then we landed in the chaos of Moab during rush hour, with construction on the one road through town. And, it was hot! We decided we needed to get take-out and not worry about cooking that night since it was already 6pm when we hit camp. Luckily, we had cell service! So we searched up take out and found a delish Mediterranean place that was super quick and headed to our campground with dinner in hand. Our campground, OK RV Park, was a private campground like our Zion campground. In places like Moab and Zion, it is really difficult to get campsites at the national and even state parks in the region, as they book up 6-9 months in advance and generally have fewer sites than the surrounding towns with private campgrounds. Private campgrounds (the most famous is the national chain Kampgrounds of America-KOAs), are generally more expensive and pack in the sites to get the most bang for the buck. They sometimes have amenities that the public parks do not have, such as pools, laundry facilities, mini golf, paddle or pickle ball courts, etc. OK RV park had none of these. However, they did have a yurt, which Margaret had reserved and was spacious and private, unlike our new cramp site. We built a campfire at the yurt and hunkered down to eat our dinner under the shadows of the surrounding plateaus and distant, snow-covered Rockies and the border of Colorado!

The next morning, we headed into Arches National Park bright and early to try and avoid the crowds. At most of the National Parks we’ve visited, we usually stop and talk to a ranger who is stationed outside the visitor’s center to get our Junior Ranger work and badges and to ask advice on the best things for us to do. Just driving the road that winds through the park, we could have seen some of the arches that are the stars of the park, but we wanted to hike out to someplace for not just a view but an experience. This particular ranger pointed out that the Delicate Arch hike was the most popular, that arch being the most famous, but it had a stretch towards the end that he described as difficult. Having just come from Bryce, we felt we had a good handle on what a difficult hike could mean. Cramer asked the ranger how the Delicate Arch hike compared to say Queen’s Garden in Bryce or Angle’s Landing in Zion, and somehow he didn’t really know what we were talking about. But it seemed he got the point that we didn’t want to do a potentially dangerous hike, and he suggested a section of Devil’s Garden that had several benefits: it would let us see several arches, we could turn around before it got too scary, and it would be less crowded. He did mention that if we felt brave and pushed on, there would be a couple spots where we would have to walk on a fin. 

Fins are key to the whole geography of the park. The arches are formed out of sandstone layers that over millennia have been divided by erosion into fingers. Eventually, some of these fingers eroded even more into fins, narrow at the top, wider at the bottom. Some of these fins had chunks fall out or wear away to create the arches. Our plan was to make it to the fin section and check it out to see how we felt about walking on it. So we headed to Devil’s Garden. We oohed and aahed the whole drive from the entrance to the trailhead. The Arches Scenic Drive is the only paved road in the park, and what we could see out our windows was stunning. We climbed up several steep switchbacks that gave us a view of the Moab Fault we’d come from. After that, we passed a tall, jagged wall of rock called Park Avenue. And then it just continued – one incredible stone formation after another, with names like The Three Gossips, the Organ, the Tower of Babel, and Balanced Rock. We didn’t need to get out of the car if we didn’t want to. 

When we arrived at the parking area, we wondered how crowded Delicate Arch could be, as here we had trouble even finding a spot in the large lot. The beginning of the hike did feel a bit crowded, but there were several little spurs we explored, and we spotted Tunnel Arch and Pine Tree Arch pretty quickly. About a mile and a half in we made it to Landscape Arch, which stretches over 300 feet and looks impossibly thin in spots. This is where we had to make our decision: turn back, or continue on by scrambling up a sandstone fin. Margaret chose to continue of the scenic drive, and the rest of us decided to keep going for a little while at least. From where we stood watching others ahead of us it didn’t look too bad.

And it didn’t feel too bad. At first. This fin wasn’t too hard to climb, and the drop-offs on either side didn’t look dangerous. From the top of that first fin looking back, we felt proud of ourselves and decided to try to make it to Double O Arch two miles further up the trail. We’d reached a broad, flat plateau nestled in between fins for a minute. Then that minute was over. We reached a second, larger fin that was wider and flatter than the first but much more exposed to gusty winds and big drops. For a moment, it looked as if we’d be turning back here, but somehow Henry made a pretty big leap down to one side of the fin where we could hike below the wind and away from the sheer drops. This allowed us to make our way to an overlook above Double O Arch. Again, Henry somehow scrambled down to stand in the arch, and Cramer followed. 

Now it was time to turn around and make our way back. We wanted to see a few arches we’d missed on our way. The first was a distant view from a cliff edge of Black Arch, which really looked more like a cave. Less than a mile from there, we took a spur to Navajo and Partition Arches. The trail to these arches was protected and allowed for some fun climbing along the way. Partition Arch was first. Situated behind Landscape Arch, Partition is like a picture window back down on the valley and the trailhead below. Second was Navajo Arch. This one seemed really more like a good-sized walk-in Cave. We could walk through the wide arch into a dead-end alcove. It definitely seemed like a place that people a long time ago could have camped in. Maybe even recently. 

The return down the fins was easier now we knew what to expect. Back in the parking lot, we reconnected with Margaret and decided to stick to our habit of recharging our batteries with lunch and relaxation. Sadly, this time, no pool, but a stroll through the little town of Moab and lunch followed by some ice cream did the trick. By the time we made it back to the campground it was already almost dinner time, but it seemed we had filled up on lunner or dunch, and so we finished up our day with a camp fire beside Margaret’s yurt and camp fire songs strummed by Cramer. We needed to rest up for one more big, unorthodox (for us) adventure in Moab the next morning. 

When we’d driven into Moab, we’d noticed an abundance of off-roading vehicles, not only driving around but also at places where you could rent one. Then, when we arrived at our camp, it seemed like just about every spot had one of these off-road vehicles. Imagine a golf cart married with a monster truck. Or a dune buggy that drank a bunch of those Monster Energy Drinks. What was the deal? Turns out, Moab happens to be one of the best places on the planet for off-roading, and Jess had hooked us up with an extreme 4×4 ride. Huh. Really? Ok. When in Rome, right?

Already a bit apprehensive, we were not happy to see when we arrived at the 4×4 place that they had little vehicles that could fit 3 passengers. We’d have to split up!? But no. Jess knew that they had big trucks that could fit all of us at once. And when I say big, I mean I thought I’d need a ladder to climb in the back. Mostly giant wheels and roll-bars, this truck had two rows of three bucket seats stacked up like stadium seating. A stadium where you needed a 5-point racing harness to watch. We were introduced to our driver, Dave, who started out by giving us the safety talk. In a nutshell, he told us that we would definitely feel like we were tipping over, which would make us want to put our hands out, which was pretty much the only way we could get hurt, if we followed his instructions on how to secure the 5 point harness and didn’t fly out. Dave would check our harnesses every time we put them on to make sure we did it right. So no way to get hurt. His emphasis on safety helped relax our nerves about getting into this intimidating “truck,” and we climbed in. 

The drive started off with a bang. As we pulled out of the lot onto the 55 mile an hour road, Dave gunned it, the gust almost blew us out of our seats, and his promise that we’d feel like we were tipping over immediately came true. After we’d secured our hats and other fly-away items, the rest of the drive to the entrance of the 4×4 park was serene in comparison. We found ourselves in a short line with some of those 4×4 vehicles we’d noticed before, but this time they looked like children’s toys compared to our beast. Just through the gate, the excitement continued. A fin like the one we had climbed the day before stood in front us. Pointing up toward the sky at an uncomfortable angle, we climbed that fin like Spiderman. Some of us closed our eyes, many of us held hands. It was scary. 

It was at this point that Dave explained we were driving on petrified sand dunes ironically named slickrock. This 4×4 park contained one of the largest areas of this special sandstone, and it was like driving on sandpaper, allowing such extreme angles without slipping. Apparently, the area had thousands of miles of off-road trails, but this one was probably the most notorious. The trail we took was called Hell’s Revenge, and if the name wasn’t scary enough, it’s been described as requiring adult diapers to drive. We have no idea how our truck stuck to the sides of these fins, as it felt for sure like we’d roll over any/every time. When the trail leveled out, Dave gunned it through loose sand, over rough rocks, and around corners, careening onto two wheels. At least that’s how it felt. Along the way, any of those baby 4x4s we encountered deferred to us and scooted out of the way. 

It felt like we could never really catch our breath, as we ascended and descended at ridiculous angles over more of these slickrock fins and domes, taking hairpin turns and balancing on ledges that left little room for error.  Every now and then we were treated to stunning vistas of the landscape that seemed too far below us. The whole time, Dave chit chatted with us, completely at ease, educating us about the geology, history of the trails and area, and stopping occasionally to point out important plants and flowers. These moments were lovely little breaks from the rest of the roller-coaster of doom. 

Looking back on it now, though, none of that seems scary in comparison to Hell’s Gate. It was the first time Dave asked us which way we wanted to go. “What do you guys think? Should we drive the wrong way down Hell’s Gate?” Why are you asking us? And why is there a crowd of people standing there watching our truck with their cell phones at the ready? Probably because this obstacle was steeper than any of the others on the trail so far. We’re talking 20, 30, and in some spots 45 degrees. Also, instead of drop-offs on either side, this was a rock chute maybe 50 yards long. One of the cheekier spectators asked if any of us wanted to buy some life insurance before we dropped in, but Dave tackled the slide with no problem, proving to the insurance weenie we didn’t need any. 

Our next stop was an actual stop for snacks, a breather, and photo ops. Dave parked his rig near the most stunning overlook we’d seen so far, with the green Colorado River snaking out far below us, and encouraged us to clamber down toward the edge so he could take our picture. When he saw our reluctance, he told us we’d have to ball ourselves up and roll off if we wanted to fall. After this break, Dave drove us back up Hell’s Gate, the right way this time, and it was somehow scarier than going down. The insurance weenie and crowd were there again, and again they were impressed with Dave’s skill. Apparently, most people trying to tackle this chute need a spotter to help them find the one correct line that avoids the need for a 4×4 tow truck or at least major body work. 

The return trip was just as exciting and fun and not as scary. Mostly. We stopped to sample some edible plant in the mustard family that tasted like pepper, once or twice for Dave to pick up some trash he somehow spotted, and to examine to fossilized dinosaur footprints. Dave had one more fun trick up his sleeve for us, as we crested a giant slickrock dome the truck seemed to stall, and he said, “Uh, oh! Brakes gave out.” The rig started to roll sickeningly backwards, our stomachs all raced to get ahead of the truck, and we shrieked and giggled then rolled to a safe stop at the bottom of the dome. We had to climb back down that first fin at the entrance, which gave us an even better view of how big the drop was, and marveled at the long line of off-road vehicles now waiting to get in. If you want to see what this experience looks like, check out Dave’s Instagram page – https://www.instagram.com/xtreme4x4.

Predictably, after our ride we had to find some lunch, and we found a sweet spot back in Moab. The Jailhouse Cafe was originally a private home built in 1885, but the town bought the building not long after and used it as the county courthouse. It’s lived several different lives since then as a post office, a store, offices, and a gallery. The cute little building has been a breakfast only joint for almost 30 years now, and we had a yummy brunch out on their big deck. It was a great way to end our adventure in Moab and start us off on our next leg up to the great, cold north.