Nomad exploring life wherever I am
That first drive into Arches National Park felt like I was on a movie backlot where the set designers had gone completely crazy. There’s just no way to grasp the scale and expanse of Arches when you first see it. It’s a good thing I got there early in the day when the traffic was pretty mild because with each mile, I drove slower and slower, trying to take it all in. Four drives out and back on that 18 mile road in three days and at the end of all that, I still felt like I was a tiny…
I kind of punted on this part of the trip since the original plan was to boondock with friends just outside Arches. But when they couldn’t make it, I waitlisted myself for a Utah state park close to Canyonlands and boy, was that worth the wait. I ended up with 18 hours to see Canyonlands National Park and Dead Horse Point State Park, so I made the most of it, with camera in hand. Let’s go!
Cliff dwellings and kivas, that’s what I got out of Mesa Verde National Park, along with a new awareness of the Ancestral Pueblo people who lived there from 550 AD to 1300 AD. And all that while still recovering from that stomach ailment at Great Sand Dunes. I was still a bit queasy on arrival, but I was determined to see how much sightseeing I could manage during my three-night stay.
In the pre-dawn darkness, I quickly dressed and downed a big glass of water, still working on staying hydrated at altitude. I started the Ridgeline and drove down to the parking lot at the edge of the dunes. Half a dozen cars were already parked and empty, meaning there were other fools up early, determined to experience sunrise on the dunes. I walked out onto the sand flats, heading for the middle of the dune field. Although it was dark, there was already enough light to easily see my way. I was ready for sunrise at Great Sand Dunes National…
Ah, Utah and those legendary National Parks! In more than five years of full-timing in my Alto, I hadn’t yet made it to Utah. Sure, I’d been to Utah a few times before full-timing: a work trip to Salt Lake City, seeing friends in Park City, that sort of thing. But I’d never managed to get to southern Utah or, for that matter, northern Arizona or the southwestern corner of Colorado. I remember my Dad talking about Bryce and Zion as some of the most amazing places he’d ever seen. I was maybe 11 or 12 years old, but something…