Southwest by Westy, Week 2

Day 8: Mesa Verde National Park, Colorado

The old gal has given us a bit of mechanical trouble so far on this trip, requiring an exhausting and smoky push-start nearly every morning, similar to the morning in Great Sand Dunes NM, and forever threatening to leave us stranded. Though still appreciative of her comfort and convenience, we have grown increasingly frustrated with her unpredictable behavior.

This morning we roll down the campground road and pop the clutch to start her engine, then continue on to the visitor’s center, where we purchase tickets for a couple of guided tours to the famous cliff dwellings, then to the Chapin Mesa Museum. Here, we learn that the name often applied to these nearly-gone people, the Anasazi, has been variously translated as “the old ones” and “our ancient enemy”. Considering our Vanagon’s advanced age, and her recent troublesome behavior, the modified moniker “Vanasazi” seems only appropriate. (Once home, I will discover that a short-circuit in the glow-plug system has burned out the plugs. With the replacement of her glow plugs and relay, Vanasazi soon returned to her usual dependability, but the name has stuck.)

Entry to Balcony House requires us to descend a 100’-long staircase into the canyon to a place just below the dwelling, then climb a 32’ ladder to the first balcony. Stooping down to crawl on hands and knees through a narrow tunnel, we finally stand up in the main balcony. The view from here is breathtaking, with a beautiful vista of the canyon spread out below us.

What now appears as only a series of half-fallen walls and small piles of rubble was once a densely inhabited and thriving village, probably resembling a modern apartment complex. The small doorways in the cliff dwellings were likely built that way to provide protection from the cold winds which are common for half the year, and were probably covered with 1”-thick sandstone slabs. During the summer months, the inhabitants perhaps placed willow mats, skins, or hides over the doorways.

It is not known for certain why the Puebloans built these cliff dwellings; perhaps for safety from enemies, perhaps to secure the dwindling water sources found at the cliffside springs. Perhaps it was a religious belief which compelled them to seek a home closer to the folds of the earth, from which they believe all humankind sprang.

Perhaps the most evocative feature of these villages was the “kiva”, an underground ceremonial chamber which served as the religious center or shrine of each family unit. This circular subterranean room was covered over with timbers and adobe paving, and accessed via a ladder. This doorway also served as the chimney for the fire which burned within. The native inhabitants of Mesa Verde continued to build these kivas, and even developed more elaborate variations, when they left the mesa tops and began building their homes in the many natural stone alcoves in the canyon walls below, around a.d. 1200.

Within three generations, a severe drought struck the region, drying up springs, decimating crops, and lasting over 20 years. People began abandoning one site after another, migrating to better lands to the southeast, and by a.d. 1300 all 600 cliff dwellings stood empty and silent, bearing mute testimony to the lives of those who once planted and hunted, danced and worshipped, lived and died here.

Day 9: Mesa Verde National Park, Colorado

Heading out of Mesa Verde NP in an early start, we narrowly miss the Four Corners (an arbitrary intersection of lines on a map, really, of significance only to armchair cartographers). Our route turns northward into Utah and we come to Valley of the Gods.

A 17-mile road loops off Hwy. 160, leading one through a stark landscape of redrock spires, fins, towers, and flat-topped mesas. There is little interpretive information regarding this mystical place, but it is easy to see how the minds of early native Americans were transported to unearthly realms by the otherworldly character of Valley of the Gods. NOTE: This loop road is very rough in places, and can be challenging to drive. Assuming no stops for hikes or further exploration, allot at least two hours for the driving tour.

Perhaps the single greatest attribute of travelling by Westy is its versatility. One moment it is a fuel-efficient transportation device, cruising across the continent at (nearly) the speed limit, the next it is a cozy cabin in the woods with roomy sleeping accommodations. Later, it is a nimble off-road vehicle, crawling about over rocky terrain, venturing off the beaten track where RV’s fear to tread.

We return to the pavement and continue northward on Hwy. 160. Within a mile or so the road appears to run smack into a 1000’ redrock canyon wall, but instead begins a series of 12% grades and switchbacks which claw their way to the rim of Cedar Mesa above. Called the Moki Dugway, the roadway was still under construction or major maintenance when we visited in October of 2002, so several sections were unpaved or deeply rutted. Guard rails are seldom seen. Only your nerves of steel, attention span, and white knuckles stand between you and the wild blue yonder. Cresting the lip of the canyon we make speed across the vast plateau thru high-desert terrain of sandstone, juniper, and sage.

Lake Powell is comprised of 162,700 acres of water impounded by the infamous Glen Canyon Dam. Completed in 1966, it took 17 years for Lake Powell to completely fill for the first time, flooding 186 miles of the Colorado River and creating 2000 miles of shoreline–more than the entire west coast. Numerous natural and archeological treasures were lost forever when the flood gates closed, and the controversial dam is regarded by many as the birthplace of the modern environmental movement.

We continue north to Hanksville, UT, and, finding no vacancies in a state park campground, we simply drive out onto adjacent BLM public lands and pop the top to prepare dinner and enjoy a quiet and solitary evening on the prairie under the stars.

Cost to enjoy a crackling campfire in our secluded spot overlooking a small canyon: zero.
Gazing slack-jawed at a million stars wheeling overhead in the blackest of skies: zip.
Bedtime serenade by distant and harmonious coyotes: zilch.
Sipping a steaming mug of fresh-brewed coffee while watching the sun rise on the prairie: priceless.

Day 10: Goblin Valley State Park, Utah

In the morning we enter Utah’s nearby Goblin Valley State Park, the centerpiece of which is a 20-acre shallow valley inhabited by thousands of eerie, vaguely humanoid sandstone forms called ‘hoodoos’, silent and motionless. Perhaps merely the result of a missed breakfast and resulting low blood-sugar, a walk through this strange valley–seemingly suspended in time–instills in us a sense of great, impending activity, as though dark magic has frozen this army of warriors in the midst of heated battle. But for how long? We hurry out of that place, before these legions of silent soldiers can spring to life, to defend the walls of their stony fortress.

We return to the highway and continue our journey westward. Entering Dixie National Forest, we climb a beautiful, steep ascent to 9200’ASL through golden aspen-covered hills and mountains, then descend into Boulder, UT. Another 75 miles of spectacular canyon and mesa-top driving brings us to the gates of Bryce Canyon National Park.

Another benefit of travelling by Westy is all the wonderful people one meets on such a roadtrip. We will see a total of 27 other Westies during our 14-day sojourn—from old air-cooled Busses to the latest EuroVans—and most drivers happily greet us with a beep or a wave or a flash of the lights. Today we find a campsite next to a wonderful couple from nearby St. George, camped in their 1983 Vanagon Westfalia—the last of the air-cooled—and accompany them to Bryce Lodge for a presentation on forest fires before retiring for the night.

Day 11: Bryce Canyon National Park, Utah

Cold night in the Westy: 26 degrees F. Thank goodness for long underwear, wool socks, and down sleeping bags. We arise early to catch the sunrise in the Canyon, but the van stubbornly refuses to start, even after a couple of rolling push-starts. Our new friends from next door kindly offer to pull-start us using their Westy and a borrowed tow rope, and he hitches us up. It must be quite a curious and comical scene for the onlooking RV crowd: an old air-cooled Westy yanking a coughing, sputtering diesel Westy around the campground loop. Two laps and she finally fires-up. As always, she will start and run perfectly the rest of the day.

After a quick breakfast we drive the mesa loop road overlooking Bryce Canyon in the early morning sun. When the ocean retreated it left behind layers of sediments thousands of feet thick here, and these now form the oldest, lowest layers of gray-brown rocks at Bryce Canyon.

Later, streams and rivers descending from surrounding highlands deposited additional layers of iron-rich sediments atop the first. These later deposits became the higher, reddish-pink stone from which the beautiful spires, fins, and hoodoos of Bryce Canyon were sculpted.

Once a cattle ranch owned for many years by Ebenezer Bryce, and known locally as Bryce’s Canyon, this place became a National Monument only in 1923. Years later Old Man Bryce was asked what it was like to have lived and ranched in such a ruggedly beautiful and spectacularly scenic landscape. “Well,” he replied, “it’s a helluva place to lose a cow.”

A scenic drive along the Sevier River finally brings us to the gates of Zion National Park. The next 10 miles offer some of the most awe-inspiring views of nature in her most rugged and beautiful forms, as we make a dizzying descent into the canyon to the Virgin River far below.

Natural forces similar to those which formed Bryce Canyon have make the park a truly unique landscape of sculptured canyons and soaring cliffs.

We have reserved a night in the Zion Lodge mountain cabins, scattered on the grassy grounds along the base of the 3000-foot canyon cliffs, and we gratefully sprawl on the soft beds for a while before showering and dressing for dinner.

In the Lodge we take in a slide presentation—“Lizards and Snakes and Frogs, Oh My!”—to learn about the local creepie-crawlies, then adjourn to the upstairs dining room for a fine dinner and views of the canyon walls and river as the sun sets.

Day 12: Zion National Park, Utah

After vacating our cabin and driving thru the lower canyon to nearby Springdale for breakfast, we return to the park to choose a campsite. Then it’s off to the museum for a bit of geological and human history and a beautiful introductory film of Zion National Park.

But to truly appreciate the grandeur of Zion one must actually see it, and the National Park Service shuttle busses make it easy, even with 2.5 million annual visitors. If riding a shuttle bus sounds like a hassle, consider instead the alternative of sitting immobilized in the fume-laden, bumper-to-bumper traffic snarls that were common before the new bus system. Not the most enjoyable way to experience the great outdoors.

Instead, as the bus driver points out noteworthy sites of interest, we ride in air-conditioned comfort and enjoy the views. When something sounds intriguing we simply hop off at the next stop and go hiking or snap some photos or dabble our toes in the river before catching another bus, another of which comes along every six minutes.

The spectacular Zion Canyon was carved by the North Fork of the Virgin River, which, over millions of years, has carried away several thousand feet of rock that once lay above the highest layers visible today. The river is still excavating today, eroding the shale, undermining the overlaying sandstone and causing it to collapse, widening the canyon. Occasional landslides and great house-sized chunks of sandstone pried from the walls by the repeatedly freezing-and-thawing water continue to widen the canyon and form rubble heaps at the base of the walls. Darkness falls quickly here in the canyon. The valley is so deep and narrow that the riverbanks receive only about four hours of direct sunlight each day, before the sun vacates that narrow swath of sky overhead and disappears behind the canyon wall. We ride the bus to the visitor center, then stroll back along the Virgin River to camp for a late dinner.

Day 13: Zion National Park, Utah

We sleep in late today and enjoy a leisurely breakfast in camp. I take Lorie into nearby Springdale for shopping, then drive back up the Zion–Mt. Carmel Highway toward the east park entrance. Parking on a roadside turnout, I hike up into the slickrock hills to explore these beautifully sculpted and wind-weathered forms. Countless layers of sand deposited on an ancient sea-bed 240 million years ago have since hardened into stone. When the oceans receded, these landforms were exposed to the wind and flowing and freezing waters, and even today continue to be carved and shaped into their varied and evocative forms.

To walk in this quiet and alien landscape is to visit another realm, and to glimpse some measure of what can result from miniscule and imperceptible changes multiplied over countless eons. Nothing can be as ‘old as the hills’ when compared to these ancient and weathered bones of the earth lying exposed to daylight.

The drive back down into the canyon is just as awe-inspiring as two days ago when we saw it for the first time. It is plain to see why both native peoples and later Mormon settlers each applied their respective spiritual and religious names to this place, for it truly inspires thoughts of a world beyond this one.

I meet Lorie near the visitor center to enjoy our final sunset in this beautiful place. Tomorrow we will begin our return journey north, then eastward to our home in the Midwest. After the last fading rays of the sun depart from the canyon wall, we enjoy gyros and beer in a small cafe, then begin our walk back through the darkening park grounds to our camp. The narrow belt of stars overhead seems all the brighter when framed on two sides by the black and looming hulks of the canyon walls, and as I watch, a bright new star moves into view.

Appearing from behind one rim of the canyon, this celestial body—larger and brighter than any other—moves with an eerie and determined grace across the starfield. Before we can utter a surprised word to one another, a second and equally bright point of light appears, following at a steady speed close behind the first. Together and in tandem, this pair of bright stars tracks smoothly across the night sky on a silent and disconcertingly straight course.

Within a moment, I recall hearing a radio report earlier that day about the space shuttle Atlantis having undocked from the orbiting International Space Station and pulling away to begin its return to Earth, and I realize we must now be witnessing this super-aerial ballet. The pair tracks across the dark sky—leading us from West to East—and I briefly ponder their flight, and our own impending return to our home in the East.

As first one point of light disappears behind the opposite canyon wall, followed a moment later by the other, I can only hope that our return journey from these high mountains to the lowlands of our home does not resemble too closely the descent and fiery re-entry that await those brave astronauts. Though finally touching down in our driveway and familiar bed will be no less sweet …

Notes for the Vanageek

• Total Trip Mileage: 4781 Miles
• Total Fuel Used: 184 Gallons
• Overall Trip Average: 26 MPG
• Oil Consumption: 3 Qts.