Cramer Crew Adventures

Bryce Canyon to Moab

by Leave a Comment

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. 

Zion Is Another Name for Heaven

by Leave a Comment

Day 19 of our adventure, we woke up at Lake Powell in Arizona. Despite the morning chill, we took a short bike ride down to the shore. This was the strangest lake we’d ever seen, situated in an otherworldly landscape made up of varying shades of gray and brown, hulking rock formations that lined the water, and shadows of distant mountains on the horizon. The one thing we learned from our limited exploring there was that you really probably should not cliff jump. The National Park Service displayed a sobering poster with a brief photo essay showing what happened to one poor soul who did. A friend had taken pictures of the jump, and the final image just showed the water where he landed and did not resurface. That kind of messaging works well on the Cramer Crew.

 It wasn’t the cheeriest start to our day, but we were doubly excited to get to our next camp just outside of Zion National Park. Not only were we looking forward to the renowned beauty and adventure that awaited us at the park, but we would be meeting our friend Margaret and Uncle Ty there as well. We weren’t sure we could take the most direct route into the park from Lake Powell because the road might not have been RV friendly, and we’d read of a tunnel at the eastern entrance that required a special permit and a lot of hoopla we didn’t think we wanted to deal with. We needed more time for research first. 

So we drove the long way around the mountains and scary tunnel, taking Route 89, which transits the Arizona Strip between the Grand Staircase-Escalante National Monument and the Vermillion Cliffs National Monument. The Arizona Strip was yet another cool new place we learned about for the first time on our trip. Separated from the rest of Arizona by the Grand Canyon, the Strip is one of the most isolated, rugged, and remote landscapes in the lower 48 states. The area contains human artifacts dating to around 8,000 years ago. European explorers reached the south rim of the Grand Canyon in 1540, but it wasn’t until 1776 that Spanish Missionary Father Escalante passed along the north rim. Though it was a gorgeous drive, we can see why not many people chose to settle down there. 

When we arrived at our camp in Springdale, Utah, Uncle Ty was already there waiting for us. After lunch in our teeny tiny “crampsite” – being this close to the park had its trade-offs – we hopped on our bikes and rolled across a bridge into the park on what happened to be the first day of National Park Week. All national parks that day had free admission, so it was well-attended. We snaked through the crowded visitors’ enter area then craned our necks at the soaring red cliffs and impressive mountains that surrounded our 3 mile creek-side Pa’rus trail ride. 

We couldn’t go too far, because we needed to get back to Wifi in order to claim our spots on the infamous Zion Shuttle. The next morning we had planned to do the Narrows hike, and the shuttle was the only way we knew of to reach the trailhead 8 miles into the park. The spots were tough to nab even before Covid, and the next batch of seats were due to be released at 5 that evening. Jess had already tried twice during earlier release windows and failed to secure seats for us. We made it back to the entrance about 15 minutes before 5 and decided we should pick up our gear for the hike. More on that in a minute. Before they’d even give us our gear, the outfitter wanted to know if we had a way to get to the trailhead. We explained we were going to try again to get shuttle tickets in a few minutes when more were available. The friendly woman helping us told us we should wait until we definitely had seats on the shuttle, or, if we wanted, we could instead ride on a private shuttle. We asked for the wifi password for the store and sat down on a nearby bench to wait until the stroke of 5:00 to see if we would be lucky enough to score the magical shuttle tickets. It was like hoping to unwrap Willie Wonka’s golden ticket! We were sitting in a bed with all four of our grandparents…no, we were sitting next to a couple also trying on Narrows gear and we asked if they had shuttle tickets already. The woman laughed, “Oh no, we just got tickets on a private shuttle after hearing what a nightmare it is to try and get the Zion shuttle, and we have tried already a few times and never gotten them!” That sealed the deal. We walked over to the private shuttle vendors and promptly booked ourselves spots with Red Rock Shuttle Co for the next day. A brief note for anyone planning on visiting Zion: it is the most visited national park and has been seeing record-breaking guests during Covid. The only way to drive into the park is if you’re staying at the official Zion Lodge, otherwise it’s the free but impossible-to-score shuttle. Red Rocks shuttle was well worth the money, as you can ride anytime throughout the day as many times as you want, not to mention the drivers are real characters! Just a little taste of a couple of the drivers we had: one was a former park ranger/PhD botanist and another raised prize winning Great Danes and played football for Woody Hayes at Ohio State. Another driver was a direct descendent of one the first park rangers in Zion. So, we had some interesting rides the next day.

Back to the gear for the Narrows. With tickets in hand, we went to the Zion Outfitters to get outfitted. Hiking the Narrows in Zion is a unique experience, where you actually hike through the Virgin River in the canyons. The water can be ankle deep or waist deep, so it is recommended to use special equipment you can rent for the day. The gear includes a full-body dry suit that zips to the neck for the kids, and chest high waders for adults. It also comes with neoprene socks and hiking shoes that are extra-grippy. Finally, the outfit is complete with a large wooden walking stick to help you keep your balance. Actually, the outfit was complete with Uncle Ty’s smart thinking – the grown ups put their cell phones in the zip lock baggies he brought to keep them dry (you might notice some of our pictures are a little blurry). The outfitter preferred people try on the suits and shoes to ensure proper fit ahead of time, and the website stated you can pick up your gear the day before in case you want to get an early start, as the canyon can get crowded. Trying on all the gear was a hoot, as it is tightly fitting and a lot to deal with. It was an even funnier sight watching us ride bikes back into camp. By that time, Margaret was just arriving and we decided to have a cookout for dinner over an open fire. Luckily, Margaret had booked a tent site, right on the river, and she had much more room than our sardine can site, so we hauled the food, lanterns, and picnic stuff down to her bucolic sight and had a lovely dinner. The boys made the fire and cooked burgers and dogs (some vegetarian). It was soooo great to see our friend and family (and we were overdue for some adult conversation)!

Early the next morning, we headed out to catch our Red Rocks Shuttle and hike the Narrows. It was a cold morning so we were extra happy to have all the special equipment with jackets and sweatshirts underneath. When you get to the trailhead, there is a mile walk to get to the river and then you can hike back into the canyon as far as you’d like for 8 miles one way. There were quite a number of people on the trail to the river and then a fair number joining us in the frigid water of the Virgin River. The shoes are designed to get wet and the socks are designed to keep you warm(ish). One oversight on our part was that our hands were really cold, especially since the boys got wet almost immediately. Their bodies stayed dry though! We forged deeper into the canyon and deeper into the water. It was fun and funny: we wobbled all around the rocky bottoms and learned quickly to stop walking when you wanted to see something along the way, like the huge cliff walls, cascading waterfalls, rock art and birds swooping and soaring. The further out we got, the less people we saw, but I think we only really made it out about 2 miles, as it was slow going, and there was so much to see all around us. Our turning point came when Sammy fell and hurt his leg, and we all had visions of how it would work with Cramer piggy-backing him home. Luckily, Sammy rallied, we all had a well deserved snack, then tromped back through the waters. It was a lot faster going with the current!

When we returned the gear, all we wanted was some lunch and pool time, so that’s exactly what we did! After some rest and relaxation pool-side (another benefit of our campground), we decided to head back into the park to make the cost of Red Rock Shuttle worth it! The Emerald Pools trail was supposed to be short and sweet. We ended up doing the long and sweet version. It was the magic hour in the evening, and we rounded vistas and climbed up cliffs. We glimpsed the pools and the waterfalls, and finally made it back to our shuttle stop, where we didn’t have to wait long for a ride but it was a packed shuttle since most of the shuttles stop running after 7pm. Again, we were hungry and ready to relax, so we decided to eat out that night at a cute little restaurant that was formerly a gas station called the Whiptail Grill. We had beers and tacos and toasted to our fun adventure day.

The next morning, Margaret decided to rent a bike, since we all had our own, and you can bike throughout the whole park (and not deal with the shuttles!). Right across the street from our campground is a bike rental company with E-bikes: electrical assist bikes. Score! The boys were enthralled and took turns tearing around the campground going 20 miles per hour while the rest of us got ready to go on a bike ride. As we mentioned, it’s about 8 miles up the mountain road one way, and it is mostly uphill on the way into the park. Also, once you get onto the roadway where only shuttles are allowed, the bikers must yield to the shuttle, which means you have to stop riding and put one foot down on the ground and only then will the shuttle pass you. Needless to say, it was a lot of starting and stopping, but that gave us plenty of opportunity to look around at the beautiful scenery that we had passed riding the shuttle the day before. It was way better on bikes! We took little breaks at each pull off and again marveled at the mountains and cliffs. There is an infamous hike in Zion called Angel’s Landing that is a 3 mile hike up the side of a cliff and out onto a steep precipice and plunging edges with catastrophic drops on both sides with only a chain to hold onto. Many hikers we had met throughout our visit to the park were recommending the hike, and none of them had children with them. There was NO WAY we were doing that hike, especially after watching the distant, tiny ant-line of people winding their way up the cliff. Once the boys saw what was involved from below, they were convinced NOT to do it.

Jess spent the majority of the ride looking for California Condors. One of shuttle drivers had let us know there was a nesting pair on the backside of Angel’s Landing. In hopes of seeing the pair, we rode our bikes way further than we had planned, all the way to Big Bend on the backside of Angel’s Landing. Sadly, there were no condors out and about, but it was still a beautiful ride and the way home was smooth sailing DOWN to the entrance and town. And once again, after returning from our longer-than-anticipated adventure, all we wanted to do was get lunch and lounge by the pool, again.

It was our last evening all together at the campground, so we cooked up a big spaghetti supper and again ate at Margaret’s scenic camp sight where we were joined by some very bold mule deer. A small group of about 4-5 deer jumped up from the river bed into our campsite and started grazing mere feet from us. They continued grazing along the campgrounds and did not seem the least bit bothered by the campers. It was a lovely end to our visit to Zion, as the next morning we were headed to Bryce Canyon and then on the Moab!

Grand Canyon – Scary Selfies

by Leave a Comment

We stepped out of Franklin at Grand Canyon Village and discovered it was very cold. All the Ponderosa Pine and Elk we saw after we entered the park should have been a hint. It really looked like a movie set. After bundling up we got our bikes and rode to the main visitors center to get our junior ranger badges and to Mather Point, the most popular viewing area on the south rim. 

Who knew, but the Grand Canyon has a very well developed bike path through the park called the Greenway. Good thing, because that place was bonkers. The parking lots were packed, and you can get around on shuttles, but because of COVID, the already popular shuttles were even more limited than normal. And this was apparently the off-season. 

It didn’t feel like the off-season as we waded through the other visitors toward the south rim of the canyon. But once we finally made it to the overlook at Mather Point it became very clear why it was so popular. The experience really is like nothing else. The view is mind-bending. Impossible to process. Beyond the scope of anything we’ve ever experienced. Words can’t do it justice. 

Some spots along the rim had sturdy railings, but many did not, and the sweeping vistas and crowds gave a couple of us the spins. So we decided to get back back on our bikes and ride along the rim to the Kaibab trailhead. Immediately it felt less crowded, and we became acclimated to the views of the chasm from along the bike trail.  A few miles east of the visitors center, the Kaibab trail dives down into the canyon along a steep trail of countless switchbacks. 

Of course, there was no way we were hiking down this trail, especially after hearing stories from Sam and Deb about their excursion to the bottom of the canyon and how tough it was. And of course, Henry really, really wanted to hike down. Somehow, when we got to the trailhead, we just started down. Only a little ways, then we’d head back. Ok, fine, just one more switchback. Maybe we could make it to that shady spot and then we’d turn around. And so on and so forth, even as we passed people climbing back up who looked as if they’d barely avoided becoming a permanent exhibit in the park. 

I think we maintained just enough of our healthy respect for the drop offs and the effort it would take to make it back that after about a mile, we turned around. Clinging to the cliff face and our hats (on top of everything else it was like a wind tunnel in that canyon) we crawled back up around the switchbacks, very proud of ourselves. 

The ride back along the rim to our camp during magic hour was, well, magical. But it was even colder by then, and we were so happy to be snug and safe back in Franklin. It was sold cold that night, that for the first time all trip we hauled a couple camp chairs inside to hang out in the warmth. 

Once we were all cozy and warm, we settled in to complete our junior ranger badge activity books. Most parks have a junior ranger program whose purpose is to get kids to explore, learn, and protect natural resources. When the kids completed activities showing what they’d learned about the park, the ranger would have them recite an oath and reward them with a cool badge that displayed the park name. During Covid, the parents get deputized, meaning they’re given the badges to hold onto until the kids finished. The boys had already collected a badge at each national park we’d visited, but the Grand Canyon badge was extra special and cool. It was carved out of wood, and not plastic. So when the boys finished their books and reached out their hands for their badges and Cramer could only find one, it was a dark moment. Where had that other badge gone? Probably the bottom of the Kaibab trail, but at this point it didn’t really matter. We needed a new badge. 

So, next morning we had really only one goal – to get to a visitors center and GET THAT BADGE. Jess had the idea that we could ride bikes to the other visitors’ center at the historical village that was made up of the old Santa Fe train depot, El Tovar lodge, Verkamp’s Curios, and Hopi House. We made sure to arrive early to beat the crowds, and when we showed up at 8 AM, there was no one there, including employees. The visitors’ center opened at nine. Now we were in a real bind, because we had to be to be in Lee’s Ferry by 11:45 for a kayaking trip down the Colorado River. Almost 3 hours away. That’s cutting it close. 

Ok, new plan.  We get back in Franklin  and drive to the main visitors’ center and grab a badge before the hordes descend then book it out of there. And that’s exactly what we did. Cramer  was somehow fist in line for the badges, and we blasted out of Grand Canyon for Lee’s Ferry hoping we could make it in time. 

Sedona Rocks

by Leave a Comment

We rolled into the town of Camp Verde, Arizona looking for one thing – ice cream. Luckily, we found Udderly Delicious with no problem, and it was just as advertised. The owner was super sweet, and so was the ice cream. We added on a take-out lunch, and moved pn to our next camp – Verde Valley RV Resort. The folks at the gate seemed to take their job very seriously, letting us know they ran a tight ship and that we were in the the new section. Sounded good to us. Turns out, the new section was a gravel parking lot instead of the the tree-lined bank of the Verde River as we had hoped. No matter, as we did not spend much time in Franklin and instead hopped on our bikes and hit the the pool where we did some serious relaxing in the sunny sun, switching between the pool and hot tub.

Once we’d washed off the road, we wandered over to where the woman at the gate had told us we could access the Verde River. Almost immediately we thought we were in the wrong spot. Where was the river? Or a trail to the river? Once we did find the river, there wasn’t much of a bank for us to enjoy. Luckily, there was another access point. So we rode over there. This one had a padlocked, chainlink fence and a steep drop-off with a couple of broken wooden ladders to get down to again, no river.  Or trail. We found ourselves picking our way through a wide, rocky wash, an area that was created when the river flooded during monsoon season. Eventualy we did make it to the bank, which once again offered little space for us to enjoy. Overall, Verde Valley RV Resort was a bit of a disappointment and a little bizarre, but nice pool and hot tub.

We were only there one night, and the next morning we drove up the road toward Sedona and checked out Red Rock State Park. All of us us were determined to find some of that famous red rock, and this park did not disappoint. Our goal was to get to the gate when the park opened, because we’d heard parking was tight. To our surprise, we were the second car in line! The friendly ranger gave us the lowdown on a great hike that followed the rim of the entire park, giving us views of some of the best-known Sedona natural features like Three Sisters, Cathedral Rock, and Coffee Pot. Red Rock gave us a great intro to Sedona, and we were excited to head into the town to check it out.

Sedona has one road running through a valley surrounded by incredible mountains. Parking was tough with Franklin, and after trying several lots unsuccessfully, we asked a crew working on an empty lot when they would be done. It looked like they were landscapers finishing up, but it turns out they were getting the lot ready to resurface, and it would be closed all day. So sad. Oh, but wait, we could park on the other side of the lot they had just finished yesterday, don’t worry about the cones or the arrow pointing the wrong way. Score! An empty lot all for Franklin. Jess said waking around the town that it reminded her of the mountain version of Provincetown on Cape Cod. We passed galleries, souvenir shops, bars and restaurants, amongst the many other pedestrians, strolling the lane. Great people watching. 

After our stroll around town we drove back to our new camp site in Dead Horse State Park. This was a nice spot, nestled in some rocky hills covered with scrub brush nearby the Verde River. The boys were excited we could mountain bike right out of our camp site down to the river and three ponds shaded by cottonwood trees. While Cramer and the boys did this, Jess was racing in Franklin to the local bike shop to get a new tube after riding over a thorn. She made it just before they closed at five, and drove back to meet us by the ponds, where Cramer changed the tire. While he did this, the local camp host pointed out a bald eagle perched in one of the cottonwoods. Turns out there was a mating pair in the park! We got to see both of the eagles and their nests. 

The next morning was a big one – horseback riding through the park. Trailhorse Adventures, a multi-generational mom and pop operation, is right in the park, and a short bike ride from our camp. After a brief tutorial from our guide, Dave, we were introduced to our horses. Cramer was paired with a small draft horse named Bud, Sammy was riding Copper, Henry was paired with Rowdy, an apparently ironic name, and Jess rode Jack Daniels, who didn’t seem to have time for any of this nonsense. The ride meandered through the valley, as Dave pointed out local flora and fauna, and tested out his new-dad jokes, as his seven month old daughter wouldn’t be ready for them for a little while still. We ducked Mesquite branches, AKA cat claws, learned about the many uses of sage, and snatched up clumps of creosote to crush and smell. We all had a blast. 

After a little post-ride relaxation and lunch at our camp site, we decided we weren’t; quite done with adventuring. Tuzigoot National Monument was visible just a few hills over from our camp, and we figured we could ride our bikes there no problemo. We hadn’t bumped along the rocky trail for long, before Jess commented she felt like the people one sometimes sees on ski slopes wearing jeans. These trails were pretty serious mountain biking trails for the Cramer Crew, but the riders and a couple of the bikes were not so serious. We made it to the valley below the monument but couldn’t quite figure out the trail up to it. We had to ask a ranger for directions, and found out the trail was a bit longer than we had anticipated. We also discovered the path up the hill to the monument was pretty steep and we would have to push our bikes up it. Closing time was at 4, and we made it about 20 minutes before that. No worries, it was enough time for us to explore the ruins and the museum. Excavation of the site originally took place in the 1930’s. Probably constructed around 1500 years ago, Tuzigoot was a village perched on the hillside overlooking the Verde River valley. First built and occupied but the Mogollon people and later by the Apache, it was thought to have been an important point along a major trading and migration route. A settlement from this era that was this permanent and provided so many artifacts is rare. 

Heading back to camp, we figured the ride would be easier now that we knew the route and what to expect. This was not to be the case, as we discovered Sam now had a very flat tire. Fortunately, it wasn’t so flat he couldn’t ride back through the valley, but once we made it back to the rocky hills around our camp, we had to walk his bike the rest of the way home. Guess what time it was. Almost 5 o’clock, the time the local bike shop closes. Franklin got us there just as they were locking the doors, but the friendly staff got us a new tube, and Cramer made sure this time to also pick up a patch kit and hand pump. We strolled through the adorable Main Street of Cottonwood, which had a very old-west vibe. Sadly, being a small old-west town means that everything closes at 5, except the restaurants. We scored a table on the patio at Belfry Brewing, where is was burger night, and they had Impossible Burgers! 🍔 

On our way out of Sedona, we wanted to visit Slide Rock State Park, which was just past the town. The ranger at Red Rock had told us to expect a line even if we arrived before the park opened, but we lucked out and were again the second car waiting to enter. Like Red Rock, we were so happy we made it there early, as we had this gorgeous park to ourselves. Located in a narrow canyon above Sedona, the park was a homestead and apple orchard, and it still has apple trees, original farm machinery, and barn and farmhouse on site. The main attraction, however, are the wavy red rocks, carved by the Oak Creek River that form natural slides and playground-like features for scampering on up and down the river. It wasn’t long, though, before other people were streaming in, and we could imagine the rocks covered with people on a hot summer day. We weren’t brave enough to test the waters, but we watched a few others who were, and it looked cold.

One more test for our day as we drove on toward our next stop, the Grand Canyon. The road out of the canyon was notorious, shooting up at a dizzying rate along too many switchbacks to count. The climb from the canyon floor to the Mogollon Rim is 4,500 feet, and we were worried about having to drive 5 miles an hour while a long line of angry drivers stretched out behind us. Normally road construction is not a happy sight, but on this occasion it was. A little road work at the bottom of the canyon squeezed the road to one lane, so we had to wait to pass, which gave us a string of slow-moving vehicles in front of us and an excuse for going slow. Turns out the drive wasn’t all that bad and was actually breathtaking. At the top, we pulled over so Jess could appreciate her job well done.