Chapter Seven

I’ve been asked dozens of times, “What was your favorite state?”

Easy answer: Utah.

It’s not a state. It’s another planet.

We got off I-70 and picked up Highway 128 South to Moab and Arches National Park. The Colorado River followed us the entire way.

The area is largely uninhabited and either designated national park land or maintained by the Bureau of Land Management. Like the old west, we rode until we got tired. Pulled off the highway onto a dirt road that took us down by the river and set up camp.

We spent the next few days wonderstruck by the massive cliffs, valleys, and deep, serpentine river canyons. The towering rock formations and natural bridges carved out by Nature over millions of years, rising up from the barren landscape.

It redefined the term “middle of nowhere.” But it’s the desolation that gives this place its unique beauty. You stand there in wonder, staring at it all, and sense it’s not of this world. Especially at sunset, when the desert turns purple and pink and the highway sparkles.

As we headed farther into southern Utah, camping in the desert at campsites with no amenities (like toilets and showers) begins to take its toll. It’s one thing to offend each other, but when you begin to gross out yourself? It’s time for a motel stop. A hot shower and crisp, cool sheets.

We found a small, run-down one-story concrete block oasis on US Hwy 191 near Blanding. I think we paid about $12 for the night.

John had packed a “sun shower” — a black rubber bladder with a hose. A glorified enema bag. When hung in the sun, the water inside would warm up nicely. You could at least rinse off some of the dirt and dust. Notice I didn’t say “sweat.” That’s the freaky thing about the desert. You don’t really sweat. It evaporates as quickly as your body can make it. You need to be constantly drinking water. Oh, and don’t forget to pack moisturizer and Chapstick. Petroleum jelly, too, for your nostrils. (I had a bloody nose for weeks.)

We traveled on roads that required courage, faith, and a full tank of gas. We filled up wherever we could. Kept a full jug of water in the back for the radiator…and potentially our own survival…just in case.

On our way to Grand Canyon, we camped at Lake Powell, another man-made reservoir. It’s where the San Juan and Colorado Rivers combine. We toured the inner workings of the Glen Canyon dam, its hydroelectric plant, and admired the engineering of the Glen Canyon bridge.

To be honest, I don’t think I’d ever given much thought about the 1,500-mile-long Colorado River. But somehow, it’s able to provide electricity, recreation, fresh water — and life — for people in seven states and even Mexico. It’s hard to believe there’s more than a trickle left for California.

As one of America’s most popular national treasures, it’s surprising how hard it is to actually get to the Grand Canyon. There are basically just two roads. One from the north, one from the south. North rim. South rim.

We took Highway 89 from Lake Powell south to the mountain pass in Bitter Springs. Drove all the way north on 89A to Marble Canyon, across the Colorado (again) and back south almost as far as Bitter Springs…then west to Rt. 67 to the north rim. Roughly 55 miles as the crow flies. About 150 miles and nearly four hours by truck.

Not sure how John felt, but for me, after everything we’d seen since leaving Colorado, the Grand Canyon was a little anti-climactic. Yes, it’s one of the Seven Natural Wonders of the World. But part of the problem is, it’s hard to grasp the scale of how big it truly is by just standing on the rim. Those who could afford to buzz the canyon in a copter or plane, or venture down into the canyon and hike around a bit, likely had a different perspective.

I’m pretty sure we spent less time actually visiting the Grand Canyon than we did trying to get there. Oh, and another interesting fact? The Grand Canyon is only 160 miles away from downtown Las Vegas…if you had wings. But it’s a five hour drive. North into Utah, back down into Arizona and then southwest to Nevada. The good news is, it takes you right past Zion National Park, another one of Utah’s amazing treasures, as well as the Dixie National Forest. The area was loaded with camping options.

Bryce National Park was on our must-see list. But, while not terribly far from Zion, it meant doubling back east and another night of “roughing it.” After spending the last four or five days in the desert, we were chomping at the bit for some semblance of civilization.