Sneaky Trails

Most trails in the Pacific Northwest are serious, no-nonsense trails. The trail commits to take you to the summit, and then it does. If you chicken out, that’s on you.

The trails in Utah have decided that they belong in a different book. They test for IQ.

In our six day trip, I’ve been lost a dozen times. One trail had helpful paint marks starting half way up. Oh that’s nice, I thought. Then at some point the sand began to cover the paint marks, and I wandered off to a godforesaken hill (in the picture). Just messing with ya, it said. See if you can spot the well worn track in the distance now, it whistled to the wind.

Another time, when the trail got fuzzy, we discovered that someone had sweetly lined up little rocks to mark the trail and keep us from going astray. But as we got closer to the destination, long stretches of slick rock face flashed before us, with no visible markers. On this stretch someone had thoughfully stacked little rocks in six inch piles, every 100m or so. Sadly, the wind had gotten to a few and scattered them away. I see you and I raise you, the trail chortled. Can you tell which rocks are naturally scattered vs. which rocks have been scattered after being stacked?

Then there was the Grand Wash. Tracing a dried up riverbed, I had bought the promise of an air and sun wash lock, stock, and barrel. But then we got lost again. It was supposed to take us to the Cassidy Arch and we found ourselves at another parking lot. Squinting at the map for five minutes, we realized we’d missed a fork in the trail. Backtracking a bit, fork took us on an intense 1.5 miles up the cliff face. A giant sand and sweat wash ensued.

Arches, Holes, or Bridges

Just as I was getting a hang of the trails in Utah, the arches were turning tricky.

The first one was just lopsided but appeared delicate. The next one was a bit cracked and lopsided though I wouldn’t have put it down as broken.

The Cassidy arch is really a bridge. You could stand on it and walk across over the top. But he next one was an arch, and wanted to be called a bridge.

The only arch that made sense is the Mesa Arch. Checked and tested from all angles.

Hoodoo You Know

Then came the hoodoos. When the ancients turned their misbehaving folk into hoodoos, I bet having them go marching around the state and commanding the horizon was not on their list of outcomes. These days the hoodoos have an underground social network and gather everyday to watch the celestial show at the local amphitheatre. Queen Victoria presides over the show. Over on the side, some are even hustling on Wall Street.

Here’s the tricky part. Get in close, and the hoodoos seem petrified. Step back, and they turn into nobility.

The sun falls over itself to bathe them in gold everyday. They mostly nod in crimson non-chalance.

Come say hello when you want. I’ll be standing right here till the end of time.