




I guess I kind of ran out of steam (and page) at this point and that’s the end? In any case: the wild rocks at Grand Staircase were balm to my soul and I finished the day in a much calmer state than I’d begun in.










Transcription:
Monday, May 3, 2021
LAURA NEEDS A BREAK
and also tiiiny sliver of GRAND STAIRCASE ESCALAMIE NATIONAL MEMOCIAL
Welcome to southern Utah, a place where you cannot throw a rock without hitting a National Park (or a hiker – don’t actually throw any rocks). We’re staying in a lovely little town called Kanab, centrally located between a solid dozen parks and sites. It’s also the location of the lottery to win a permit for hiking to “the Wave” – a famous and stunning formation in Vermillion Cliffs NM. This town was originally intended [for us] as an overnight stop only, on the way to Capitol Reef NP, but having failed to do much research, I’d had no idea how gorgeous this place was, or what great access Kanab gave to all of it. We decided to spend a couple days and see if our lottery luck would hold.
We turned up at the Kanab Community Center Gymnasium at 8:30, as instructed, where a scruffy dude was informing crowd of a couple hundred people that it was not his fault so few people could go (“write to your senators!”) and that really, there are much better hikes.
(Turns out many of the National Park Sites in this area are managed by the BLM. The differences in style from the Park Service are not difficult to spot.)
We entered the lottery anyway. We were the 51st group out of 89 to enter today. They picked numbers 76, 19, 28, aaaand…
52. D’oh.
Or was it “d’oh”? As they called numbers, I found myself sitting in the bleachers worrying how I’d react if we wan. (Scruffy Guy had informed us that celebration was mandatory.) Could I show enthusiasm? I didn’t actually feel very excited at the prospect of getting to do this amazing thing. Mostly, I just felt tired.
When we got back to the hotel, Dustin asked, very innocently (and very appropriately) what I’d like to do instead. Spread in front of us was a map showing Vermillion Cliffs NM, Grand Staircase-Escalante NM, Bryce Canyon NP, Capitol Reef NP, and well over a dozen National Forests and National Recreation Areas. Zion NP wasn’t on the map and hadn’t been in our plans, but it’s also quite close, so should we be considering that area too?
I started to cry. I really didn’t mean to, but I felt overwhelmed with possibilities and the associated fear of somehow Doing It Wrong and missing out on Something Awesome but also wondering Why Are We Trying To Do So Much? It couldn’t all fit in my head at once, so it came out as tears.
“I need a break,” I snuffled while my poor, alarmed husband petted me and promised me any my kind of break I wanted. It turned out to be much more a question of decision fatigue than physical tiredness. Dustin took over making plans and by the time we’d had lunch, everything seemed fine again.
Dustin stuck me in the car and promised we were going somewhere “to chill out.” Even through my continuing tears (once I get started on a tired-weep, it is danged hard to stop), I could appreciate how amazing the scenery was. Utah knows how to do rocks!
We arrived shortly at the entrance to Best Friends Animal Sanctuary, the country’s largest no-kill shelter for animals of all kinds. The brochure promised kitties to cuddle and lunch with a view. Dustin is so great at this.
By the time I’d gotten in a solid 20 minutes of kitty-cuddling, I’d finally managed to pull myself together.
We did a self-guided driving tour around the stunning, spacious property (saw a few ponies, heard a few parrots) then landed at their vegan cafe for lunch. At only $5, it’s the best-value meal I’ve had on this whole trip, and was also delicious.
Having mostly recovered, we headed over toward Ground Staircase-Escalate NM to do low-key hike on the Toadstools Trail. “Toadstools” are what happens when a hard rock (around here, often dolomite) falls on a soft rock, which weathers away everywhere except directly beneath the hard stone, leaving it sitting like a hat on a column of dirt. The conditions were just right for their formation here, and they’re everywhere – some towering dozens of feet tall.