by Mike Graf
“Whoa!” several people in the group exclaimed. A few quickly grabbed their cameras and took pictures.
“And so our superintendent named this arch Surprise.”
“Surprise Arch?” someone asked for clarification.
“Yep.”
Mariah spoke in a whisper. “You know, when Edward Abbey lived here in the 1950s, Arches was a very quiet place. But now we have over 800,000 visitors a year. So, to wrap up our walk, I like having a moment of silence.”
The group sat still and quiet. Some closed their eyes. Others—like Morgan and James—stared at the arch above them.
After a few minutes Mariah pulled out the book Desert Solitaire by Edward Abbey. Morgan recognized the cover. “That’s what you’re reading, Dad.”
“I’d like to share a little bit of this with you,” Mariah said while holding up the book.
She cleared her throat. Right then a cracking sound came from somewhere far off. The ranger looked toward the noise and waited a moment.
When it was quiet again, Mariah looked down at her book. Then the group heard a thump in the distance.
“Whoa!” Mariah exclaimed. “So much for our moment of silence.”
The ranger quickly scanned the area, including Surprise Arch above them. “Come on,” she urged everyone. “It sounds like we’re having some geology in action somewhere in the Furnace. And I don’t think this is any time to hang out below an arch.”
The group scrambled away from the Surprise Arch area. As they trekked along, Mariah pointed to a small boulder twenty feet off the trail. “I bet that’s our culprit!” she exclaimed. “That rock wasn’t there yesterday. It must have fallen off that fin behind it.”
“That could have killed someone,” a person in the group said.
Meanwhile, as everyone hurried along, James reflected back to his story. I wrote about something like this happening, he realized.
Finally the group approached a keyhole formation in a notch between rock fins. Across the way were views of the Salt Valley and the Windows area beyond. The tiny pedestal of Balanced Rock appeared in the distance.
Morgan took a picture of her family framed by the keyhole. Then everyone followed Mariah back into the sun and out of Fiery Furnace.
12
Good-Bye Mom and Dad
Once the Parkers finished the hiking tour, the family reluctantly left the Fiery Furnace area and headed out of the park.
“I’m certainly going to miss this place,” Mom commented.
They passed the turnoff to Delicate Arch and then climbed out of the Salt Valley. Next was the junction to the Windows. Shortly after, they passed Balanced Rock, still perched on its pedestal, defying gravity.
After a while the road reached the Courthouse Towers, and the Three Gossips came into view to the west.
“This was where that car commercial was,” Morgan recalled.
“Doesn’t that seem like such a long time ago?” Mom mused. “We’ve seen so many interesting things since then.”
Finally Dad pulled over at the Park Avenue trailhead. The Parkers piled out of the car and walked over to the viewpoint. They gazed at the towering, thin slabs of rock lining the canyon. The soft blue early evening sky provided a stark contrast to the shadowed, darkened, reddish rock walls.
“It makes me want to sketch some more,” Mom said, gesturing toward the view.
“It makes me want to sit and soak in the scenery,” Dad added.
James pulled out his map and Morgan came over to look. Then Morgan gazed into the canyon and saw a few people walking along a faint path. “Yep. There’s a trail down there.”
Suddenly Morgan got an idea. She excitedly shared it with James. Then they both turned to their parents.
“Can we hike down there?” Morgan asked. “It’s only a mile.”
“But then we’d have to come back up,” Dad responded, feeling a little tired from the long day.
Park Avenue
Mom glanced up from her drawing. “I’d really like to sketch for a little bit,” she said. “You don’t see views like this very often, especially with this evening sky.”
Dad stared down into the canyon. He watched the groups of hikers weaving their way along the trail. Then he turned to James. “Can I see the map for a minute?”
Dad looked over the area on the map. Park Avenue Trail was noted to the side as “moderately easy” and only a mile. And if taken one-way, it came out at the Courthouse Towers.
“Hmm,” Dad pondered. Then he focused on Morgan and James. “You really want to hike?”
“Yes!” they both replied while nodding their heads enthusiastically.
Dad glanced toward Mom. He walked over to her and discussed his thoughts. After a couple of minutes, they both approached the twins.
Dad took a deep breath and announced, “We think that the two of you certainly have shown you have the experience and wherewithal to hike in the desert. Would you like to do the walk on your own?”
“Can we?” Morgan asked, with an excited but disbelieving expression on her face.
“Yep,” Mom chimed in. “Dad and I can hang out here for a bit, then skedaddle back to the Courthouse Towers and pick you up.”
“Yes!” James exclaimed. And he and Morgan high-fived.
Dad dashed to the car and grabbed a fanny pack along with snacks and water. “Here’s some survival gear,” he said when he returned.
“How much time do you think you’ll need?” Mom asked.
Morgan shrugged. “I don’t know. Maybe half an hour?”
“That sounds about right,” Mom replied. “But take your time and enjoy your adventure. We know it will be a beautiful hike.”
Morgan and James hugged their parents. Then they proceeded down the rock stairs and into the canyon. Once at the bottom they turned around and waved.
“Good-bye, Mom and Dad!” James called out.
Mom and Dad waved back. Then Dad put his arm around Mom. “Our babies are growing up,” he said.
Morgan looked at James as they hiked. “This is so cool!” she exclaimed.
Mom and Dad stood at the trailhead, watching their children wander farther down the canyon. Then Mom resumed sketching. Dad gazed at the towering, thin formations lining Park Avenue like rock skyscrapers.
A short while later James turned to look for his parents again. He could still see them—Dad was using his binoculars and Mom appeared to be drawing. “I’m going to try and not look at them anymore,” James announced. “I don’t want them to think we’re nervous.”
“Good idea,” Morgan agreed.
An evening breeze cooled the air. Dad glanced down, looking for the twins. “They’re out of sight now,” he reported.
Mom closed her sketch pad. “Shall we go get them then?”
“Okay.”
• • •
James and Morgan continued following the rock cairns and footprints, now in a sandy wash. Something scurried in the bushes. Morgan glanced over and saw a lizard scamper for cover. She and James continued along.
A moment later James abruptly stopped. “Look, a rabbit!”
But Morgan was busy studying some tiny eroded formations and carved pockets along a rock wall. “These are so bizarre!” she exclaimed. “They look like little shelves for trinkets and jewelry.” One of the mini shelves had a tiny pile of rocks in it. “Look at what someone put in here, James,” she said, pointing to the spot.
Morgan and James hiked on as the sun disappeared behind some towering rock walls. The sound of their footsteps crunched as they walked.
They turned a corner. “There’s the parking lot,” James called out.
“And our car,” Morgan added.
Mom and Dad heard voices coming from the canyon. They glanced in the direction of the trail. “Let’s look away and pretend we’re busy,” Mom said. She gazed over toward the Three Gossips while Dad stared at a small arch in the distance. But out of the corner of his eye he saw two heads bobbing up and down as they ap
proached from the canyon.
Soon Morgan and James reached the highway. They checked both ways then bounded across the road to the parking lot with their supposedly preoccupied parents.
“Hi!” Morgan called out.
Mom acted surprised and looked over. “Hi!” she called back. “That sure was quick.”
“Well. How was it?” Dad inquired, smiling.
Morgan and James both reported the details.
“We saw a rabbit.”
“And a bunch of lizards.”
“And our voices echoed.”
“The trail was actually pretty easy.”
“We lost the tracks a few times in the wash but then found them again.”
“The views of the rocks were amazing.”
“You would have liked it.”
“I regretted not going as soon as you left,” Dad admitted. “But I didn’t want to bother you.”
“You could have caught up to us,” James said. “That would have been great!”
“Well, there’s always next time,” Mom said.
“And there will definitely be a next time,” Dad added. “Come on, you two, let’s head into town.”
The family returned to their car and left Arches National Park behind for a night at a hotel in Moab.
13
Cowboys and Indians
The night in town with fresh food, warm showers, and laundry rejuvenated the Parkers for their next adventure. In the morning they drove down US Highway 191, eventually turning west on Highway 211 toward the Needles district in Canyonlands National Park.
The road wound deeper into more remote and rocky areas. The family stared at the mesmerizing scenery surrounding them. “The Needles, here we come,” Dad announced.
Eventually Mom pulled the car over at Newspaper Rock, and the Parkers piled out. They wandered over to a vertical slab of rock protected by a fence.
“Wow, look at this,” Dad said as he examined the multitude of etchings embedded on the rock wall.
James noticed the human and animal figures. “I wonder what it all means.”
Morgan walked up to the sign by the fence and quickly skimmed the words. “It says here that no one is actually sure.”
“I certainly can see how the rock got its name,” Mom added. “There must be so many stories written in this stone.”
Then Dad glanced at James. “Hey, have you written any more sections of your story?”
Petroglyphs on Newspaper Rock
“I’m waiting for the Needles and the river,” James replied. “But this sure gets me thinking.”
Morgan snapped a few photos of the ancient rock art and then the family climbed back into the car and drove on.
Soon the remote, wild canyons of the Needles district came into view. The Parkers reentered Canyonlands National Park and stopped at the visitor center to get their permits for their backpacking trip to Chesler Park.
“Have a good time out there,” the ranger stated. “I think it’s one of the best places in the world.”
The family filled up their water bottles and walked back to the car. They stopped at a few short trails on their way to the campground. The Roadside Ruin Trail led them to a small granary tucked under a cliff, similar to what they had seen their first day in the park.
Then the family took the short gravel road to Cave Spring. There they took a walk to one of Canyonlands’ only permanent sources of water outside of the river.
Mom looked around at all the plants at the start of the trail. “It’s so green here compared to most of the park,” she commented.
Soon the path led to a large alcove of overhanging rock. Underneath were the remains of a camp.
The Parkers stood behind a fence and inspected the artifacts from a distance.
“It looks like a scene from an old Western movie,” Dad said.
“Yeah, a cowboy outpost site,” Mom added. “And I don’t think it was that long ago that they were out here.”
Cave Spring
* * *
In the late 1800s cowboys settled in the canyons that now make up the area around Canyonlands National Park. John Albert Scorup was one of the best-known cowboys, and he ran a large cattle operation there. Scorup and his partners at one point had up to ten thousand cattle in the area. The ranchers that helped had to stay out on the range with their cattle as they wandered the vast lands of the ranch. They had several camps; one was near Cave Spring. This particular outpost was established at this location because the spring provided a reliable source of water. In 1975 cattle ranching ended within the national park, but many of the artifacts such as the ones at Cave Spring remain.
Cave Spring
The trail continued meandering along under the alcoves. “I love being in the shade,” James mentioned.
Soon the Parkers entered a second cave. “Look. Water,” Morgan pointed.
The trickle of water flowing out of the cave led to a mossy seep at the back. Mom walked over, noticing a few tiny ferns growing near the source of the water. “Pretty unusual to see these in the desert, don’t you think?” she said, touching one of the small green plants. There was no reply.
Mom turned to see what her family was doing. Morgan was staring transfixed at the ceiling of the alcove. Dad and James noticed her gaze and joined her. Mom looked at what appeared to be three hypnotized family members. “What do you all see?” she asked.
Handprints
“Come here,” Dad whispered.
All four Parkers stared at the cave’s ceiling. On it were several rust-colored handprints and an ancient image of a face.
“It’s kind of spooky,” Mom remarked. “And pretty cool,” James added.
The Parkers studied the ancient art for a few more minutes and then trekked on. Soon the trail reached a ladder leading straight up the rock. Morgan and James scaled it first, then Mom and Dad carefully climbed the steep steps.
A second ladder led to the top of the rocks.
When they all were gathered on top, Mom looked around and announced, “It’s like a whole new trail up here!”
The Parkers followed rock cairns across the slickrock. Eventually the trail looped back toward where it started, and the Parkers returned to their car.
Later the Parkers followed the short Pothole Point Trail to a bunch of potholes in the desert slickrock.
Potholes
* * *
Potholes, or depressions in the desert sandstone, are often briefly filled with water by intermittent rains. But at other times temperatures can exceed 140 degrees F on the ground, and these empty pockets that once held water seem lifeless. However, lying dormant in the sand are hundreds of microscopic creatures and eggs that have adapted to the extreme conditions. Some of the creatures waiting to spring to life include snails, crustaceans, tadpoles, worms, fairy shrimp, mosquito larvae, beetles, and gnat larvae. Some of these creatures go through what is called cryptobiosis, a process where they lose almost all their body water. Then when it rains, they can rehydrate and come to life within thirty minutes! Potholes are also temporary watering holes for birds, mammals, and reptiles. Because the water is so precious to these life forms, people should not disturb it. That includes keeping hands and feet out— even the oil from our skin can pollute the water, making these rare desert oases uninhabitable for the creatures that live in them.
James gazed into a dry, dusty pothole. The family recalled what Mom had mentioned on the Delicate Arch Trail. “It’s hard to imagine all the eggs, tadpoles, snails, and things that are in there waiting to come to life,” James said.
“But they are,” Morgan reminded her brother. “So we shouldn’t step in it.” Finally the family took one more hike, the Slickrock Foot Trail, before settling in to Squaw Flat Campground for the evening.
The spacious campground had sites nestled against large rocks. The Parkers picked a spot and ate dinner while staring out at the rock-strewn horizon.
Meanwhile the sun slowly sank in the sky, lighting up the rocks with a pin
kish, fiery hue. Mom got up to begin clearing the table before dark. As she walked back to the car, she noticed animal tracks in the sand. “I wonder,” she mused. “Were these from a dog, or a mountain lion, or a coyote?”
The rest of the family came over. The large tracks were partially covered by shoe prints. “It’s too hard to tell,” Dad remarked. Then Mom shuffled her feet over the tracks. “Best to not worry about it,” she concluded.
14
Please Don’t Hurt My Baby
Early the next morning the Parkers ate breakfast and tore down their camp. They loaded up the car and drove on a nearby dirt road to the Elephant Hill parking area.
As the car bounced along, Dad glanced at the rock-strewn world outside. “I feel like we’re in the outback somewhere,” he commented.
Mom reflected back for a moment. “The scenery here is reminding me of that John Wesley Powell quote you read us in your story, James.”
“You mean . . .” James recalled. “The landscape everywhere away from the river is rock, cliffs of rock, tables of rock, plateaus of rock, terraces of rock, crags of rock . . .”
“That’s the one!” Mom exclaimed.
“It is amazing country,” Dad agreed.
Soon the family arrived at the remote parking lot. They loaded their packs with food, gear, and water. Then Dad placed a sunshade inside the car’s window. “Hopefully it won’t be an oven in here when we get back.”
“Here we go then,” Mom announced, leading the way to the trailhead.
The path immediately climbed up a series of rock stairs. Soon the Parkers were high above the parking area.
Morgan took a glance back. “Good-bye, car,” she called out.
“And air conditioning,” James added.
“Well, at least it’s September,” Dad replied. “Can you imagine being out here in July?”
