tanya
02-19-2007, 12:34 PM
Elaine Prior marvels at the wild Utah landscape that has been cut and dried by natural forces.
Wet snowflakes plaster our windscreen as the popular Ruby's Inn emerges through the morning gloom. Over bacon and eggs, we wonder whether the short drive from here to Bryce will be worthwhile on this miserable day?
But as the road climbs, the snowfall lightens and clouds give way to glimpses of blue. By the time we reach the canyon rim, pink, vermilion and orange iron-stained rocks iced in white intermingle with green pine and fir trees under a blue desert sky, and we stand spellbound by the panorama before us.
The Colorado Plateau's three-dimensional display of artistry in rock extends from Utah into Colorado, Arizona and New Mexico. Names such as Arches, Canyonlands, Goblin Valley, Capitol Reef and Natural Bridges national parks, Grand Staircase National Monument, Kodachrome Basin and Monument Valley reflect its majestic shapes and brilliant hues.
Utah's geological creations are readily accessible to visitors, whether by motor vehicle, bike, horse or on foot. Snow falls on the high ground in winter and the canyon depths swelter in extreme desert heat in summer. Our visit is in March, when days are warm and clear, nights are cool - sometimes freezing - and roads, trails and campsites virtually empty. Las Vegas, Salt Lake City and Moab are handy starting points for your explorations.
Today's arid plateau was a vast inland sea, uplifted in the past 20 million years and eroded by natural forces that sculpted it into rugged landscapes. To the south of the plateau, the Colorado River has etched Arizona's Grand Canyon, a two-kilometre deep gorge that displays a geological saga spanning 2 billion years.
John Wesley Powell first ventured downriver through the canyon in 1869, describing it as a journey down the Great Unknown. Intrepid whitewater rafters today regularly follow in his wake.
The whimsical eroded rock formations characterising Bryce Canyon National Park are perhaps Utah's most unusual shapes. Fashioned by ice and water, these limestone pillars, called "hoodoos", cast a spell on all who visit.
After studying hiking options in the park's informative guide, we select a three-hour circuit walk. Descending among the hoodoos, through Wall Street's narrow cleft, the well sign-posted path leads past striking formations such as the Cathedral, Three Wisemen and Wall of Windows. Deeper into the park's network of hiking and horse trails, there are camping areas for those who prefer a longer stay.
Reunited with our hire car, we explore the roads and trails that branch out along the rim, past ancient bristlecone pines to the views from the likes of Sunset, Sunrise and Inspiration points, where chipmunks scurry seeking nuts and seeds. Under a dusting of snow, the evening light transforms the intricate lattice of hoodoos into a mesmerising tapestry.
It is hard to drag ourselves away for the drive back to our campsite at Kodachrome Basin State Park, named by a 1948 National Geographic Society expedition after a brand of film. Next day dawns clear, and we stroll among photogenic red and white sandstone chimneys and spires that dwarf our small tents. These formations may be remnant cores of ancient springs and geysers, similar to those found in Yellowstone National Park.
A short drive from Bryce or Las Vegas, the Virgin River has carved a deep chasm through Zion National Park, where a refurbished rustic 1920s lodge makes a comfortable and cosy base for exploring. Here, the famous Virgin River "hike" is a must for visitors.
Clutching walking sticks for balance on slippery rocks, we brave the thigh-deep water to wade upstream through the refreshingly cool Narrows. Dwarfed by 600-metre soaring walls, sandstone grottos and hanging gardens are illuminated by shafts of sunlight dancing on the water.
Later, for an eagle's perspective, we clamber up the steep trail to Angel's Landing, an eyrie half way up the canyon walls. Chains provide handholds along a precarious exposed ridge but fail to completely quell our nerves. More energetic hikers opt for a strenuous 650-metre climb to Observation Point on the canyon rim, which boasts spectacular valley views on three sides. Though rare, you might even spot a mountain lion.
Retracing our steps to the canyon floor, we relax with well earned ice-creams, until the spring sun sinks behind towering red walls and the temperature instantly plummets from sultry to almost freezing. The cosy lodge beckons and we sprint back for a steaming shower.
Northeast of Bryce, Capitol Reef National Park is named Land of the Sleeping Rainbow by the Navajo. A spectacular, though nerve-racking road cuts across the park's 160 kilometre Waterpocket Fold, making an interesting route towards Arches and Canyonlands. As we slowly negotiate steep switchbacks, we glimpse into a 70-million-year-old warp in the earth's crust, where tilted rock layers form colourful cliffs, soaring spires and twisting canyons.
Utah gives hikers and backpackers many enticing adventure options well off the beaten track. With the help of a wilderness guidebook, you can explore deep into slot canyons, some untracked and involving clambering and scrambling through intricate passages etched by ancient watercourses.
Ticaboo Canyon, our choice for a three-day hike, was once a steep and winding cattle trail, whose lower reaches have been submerged beneath Lake Powell since the construction of Glen Canyon Dam in 1966. A secret spring nurtures willow, ash and cottonwood trees in an oasis and swimming hole that makes an ideal base-camp.
Next morning, we follow inconspicuous cairns marking a route that climbs high above the main canyon, over ramps and ledges to a rocky knoll.
Pockets of flowers cling to dents in bare rock where water occasionally collects. Below us, an almost inaccessible gash in the earth intrigues us. Eventually we spot a narrow gully and clamber down using a rock-climbing sling as a handhold. Entering a pristine upper canyon, our footprints mark a virgin sandy floor that leads between narrowing red walls. Squeezing sideways, inching deeper into a narrow slot, we must take care to avoid stuck feet or knees. Rescue could be days away in this remote rocky maze.
Slivers of sunshine filter through the fissure overhead. We enter a cool cathedral-like amphitheatre with echoing walls, with only a black streak remaining from the waterfall that etched this chasm over the millennia.
Here, deep in the arid heart of Utah, it is now bone dry. We feel as if we have reached a place where no one else has ever been. Back at our tents, feeling like intrepid explorers, we celebrate with a glass of wine and marvel at how delicious rehydrated meals taste under a clear desert sky.
From snowy peaks to canyon depths, Utah's dramatic artistry in rock could take more than a lifetime to explore.
http://www.smh.com.au
Wet snowflakes plaster our windscreen as the popular Ruby's Inn emerges through the morning gloom. Over bacon and eggs, we wonder whether the short drive from here to Bryce will be worthwhile on this miserable day?
But as the road climbs, the snowfall lightens and clouds give way to glimpses of blue. By the time we reach the canyon rim, pink, vermilion and orange iron-stained rocks iced in white intermingle with green pine and fir trees under a blue desert sky, and we stand spellbound by the panorama before us.
The Colorado Plateau's three-dimensional display of artistry in rock extends from Utah into Colorado, Arizona and New Mexico. Names such as Arches, Canyonlands, Goblin Valley, Capitol Reef and Natural Bridges national parks, Grand Staircase National Monument, Kodachrome Basin and Monument Valley reflect its majestic shapes and brilliant hues.
Utah's geological creations are readily accessible to visitors, whether by motor vehicle, bike, horse or on foot. Snow falls on the high ground in winter and the canyon depths swelter in extreme desert heat in summer. Our visit is in March, when days are warm and clear, nights are cool - sometimes freezing - and roads, trails and campsites virtually empty. Las Vegas, Salt Lake City and Moab are handy starting points for your explorations.
Today's arid plateau was a vast inland sea, uplifted in the past 20 million years and eroded by natural forces that sculpted it into rugged landscapes. To the south of the plateau, the Colorado River has etched Arizona's Grand Canyon, a two-kilometre deep gorge that displays a geological saga spanning 2 billion years.
John Wesley Powell first ventured downriver through the canyon in 1869, describing it as a journey down the Great Unknown. Intrepid whitewater rafters today regularly follow in his wake.
The whimsical eroded rock formations characterising Bryce Canyon National Park are perhaps Utah's most unusual shapes. Fashioned by ice and water, these limestone pillars, called "hoodoos", cast a spell on all who visit.
After studying hiking options in the park's informative guide, we select a three-hour circuit walk. Descending among the hoodoos, through Wall Street's narrow cleft, the well sign-posted path leads past striking formations such as the Cathedral, Three Wisemen and Wall of Windows. Deeper into the park's network of hiking and horse trails, there are camping areas for those who prefer a longer stay.
Reunited with our hire car, we explore the roads and trails that branch out along the rim, past ancient bristlecone pines to the views from the likes of Sunset, Sunrise and Inspiration points, where chipmunks scurry seeking nuts and seeds. Under a dusting of snow, the evening light transforms the intricate lattice of hoodoos into a mesmerising tapestry.
It is hard to drag ourselves away for the drive back to our campsite at Kodachrome Basin State Park, named by a 1948 National Geographic Society expedition after a brand of film. Next day dawns clear, and we stroll among photogenic red and white sandstone chimneys and spires that dwarf our small tents. These formations may be remnant cores of ancient springs and geysers, similar to those found in Yellowstone National Park.
A short drive from Bryce or Las Vegas, the Virgin River has carved a deep chasm through Zion National Park, where a refurbished rustic 1920s lodge makes a comfortable and cosy base for exploring. Here, the famous Virgin River "hike" is a must for visitors.
Clutching walking sticks for balance on slippery rocks, we brave the thigh-deep water to wade upstream through the refreshingly cool Narrows. Dwarfed by 600-metre soaring walls, sandstone grottos and hanging gardens are illuminated by shafts of sunlight dancing on the water.
Later, for an eagle's perspective, we clamber up the steep trail to Angel's Landing, an eyrie half way up the canyon walls. Chains provide handholds along a precarious exposed ridge but fail to completely quell our nerves. More energetic hikers opt for a strenuous 650-metre climb to Observation Point on the canyon rim, which boasts spectacular valley views on three sides. Though rare, you might even spot a mountain lion.
Retracing our steps to the canyon floor, we relax with well earned ice-creams, until the spring sun sinks behind towering red walls and the temperature instantly plummets from sultry to almost freezing. The cosy lodge beckons and we sprint back for a steaming shower.
Northeast of Bryce, Capitol Reef National Park is named Land of the Sleeping Rainbow by the Navajo. A spectacular, though nerve-racking road cuts across the park's 160 kilometre Waterpocket Fold, making an interesting route towards Arches and Canyonlands. As we slowly negotiate steep switchbacks, we glimpse into a 70-million-year-old warp in the earth's crust, where tilted rock layers form colourful cliffs, soaring spires and twisting canyons.
Utah gives hikers and backpackers many enticing adventure options well off the beaten track. With the help of a wilderness guidebook, you can explore deep into slot canyons, some untracked and involving clambering and scrambling through intricate passages etched by ancient watercourses.
Ticaboo Canyon, our choice for a three-day hike, was once a steep and winding cattle trail, whose lower reaches have been submerged beneath Lake Powell since the construction of Glen Canyon Dam in 1966. A secret spring nurtures willow, ash and cottonwood trees in an oasis and swimming hole that makes an ideal base-camp.
Next morning, we follow inconspicuous cairns marking a route that climbs high above the main canyon, over ramps and ledges to a rocky knoll.
Pockets of flowers cling to dents in bare rock where water occasionally collects. Below us, an almost inaccessible gash in the earth intrigues us. Eventually we spot a narrow gully and clamber down using a rock-climbing sling as a handhold. Entering a pristine upper canyon, our footprints mark a virgin sandy floor that leads between narrowing red walls. Squeezing sideways, inching deeper into a narrow slot, we must take care to avoid stuck feet or knees. Rescue could be days away in this remote rocky maze.
Slivers of sunshine filter through the fissure overhead. We enter a cool cathedral-like amphitheatre with echoing walls, with only a black streak remaining from the waterfall that etched this chasm over the millennia.
Here, deep in the arid heart of Utah, it is now bone dry. We feel as if we have reached a place where no one else has ever been. Back at our tents, feeling like intrepid explorers, we celebrate with a glass of wine and marvel at how delicious rehydrated meals taste under a clear desert sky.
From snowy peaks to canyon depths, Utah's dramatic artistry in rock could take more than a lifetime to explore.
http://www.smh.com.au