In which Moominmama stands at the top of the world and appreciates geological time...

Arches National Park has some unusual cliffs and stones even apart from the arches for which it is famous. In some cases, the sandstone looks like lumps of clay dropped on top of one another, a lumpy, goopy kind of landscape.

In other cases, the long-ago presence of sea salt broke the red rock sandstone into giant fins since worn smooth by the years. Like a kindly elephant stretching out its trunk, some of the rocks bow down and allow you to climb to the top as I did above. From there you can see all the way to the La Sal Mountains in spots. The trick is not to get too distracted by the views since a misstep could lead to a precipitous drop! 

But it's not unpleasant to look down either. The patterns in the sandstone can look like swirls of water or the grain of wood. And I arrived at a time when the prickly pear were opening up their beautiful buds. 

There was nowhere to look without feasting one's eyes. The park is deservedly famous, and Moominmama heard many languages spoken.
Moominmama was fortunate to be able to camp inside the park at Devil's Garden, itself a wonderful place to wander and the launching point for some great hikes to various arches. Nailing this opportunity involved pouncing six months ago on the registration platform the minute it opened for May. 

I felt exceptionally lucky to be able to stay for three days and take in my fill of the Entrada sandstone that has been sculpted by salt, wind and rain for thousands and thousands of years. This "Entrada" layer of sandstone dates back to sand dunes formed in the Middle Jurassic Period, 175 million years ago, and it's what Arches National Park is known for because it erodes in such interesting ways.

The rocks are in flux and even though it takes centuries, it is easy to see the passage of time at work. Here is the Double Arch, but right next to it is a wall where a new arch is beginning to form. 

The warmth of the colors, the amazing climbs and views of the canyons, hiking between the rocks and finding secret gardens. All a gift to memory.

Even the ravens, one of which responded to my imitation calls by landing next to me on the rocks and giving me the side-eye.

I left Arches with a full heart and eyeballs worth of amazing views. Then on the drive out, I came across Black Dragon Canyon.

I stood on dusty, greyish rocks and looked out over a deep canyon toward the prow of a giant ship made of deep red sandstone. I was standing where the convulsions of the earth's mantle lifted up stone that dates from before the Permian extinction 250 million years ago. And because of the uplift since then, it faces the rocks of the vastly younger San Rafael Reef. 

Just wow. It never felt so good to feel so insignificant.



It had been my intention to also share with you the story of the bristlecone pine, a rare and long-lived, perhaps the longest-lived, tree, which grows in unique high-elevation climates like that on Wheeler Peak, more than 13,000 feet high in Great Basin National Park, Nevada. 

I arrived in Great Basin National Park in time to take a tour of the famous Lehman Caves (one shot here of some rare calcium deposits in the cave!) 

But I couldn't attempt the peak while towing the Moominhouse so made reservations at an RV park for the holiday weekend, planning to take my car up to the trailhead the next day, (also my spikes as the ranger warned me there's still snow up there - thanks to Erika for advising me on this purchase!)

To my dismay, there was a good ol' boy at the RV park who seemed to feel my existence was an insult to his masculinity. He accused me of being disrespectful and would not let it go, following me to my camping spot within a half hour of our initial confrontation. 

To make a long story short, I felt unsafe for the first time in my travels. He worked at the campground, which had a bar on its premises, and it wasn't likely to help matters if he imbibed. 

So I took off, having been there only about two hours. As a result: no treatise on bristlecone pine, Wheeler Peak or the Great Basin National Park. I am now safely ensconced in Carson City, Nevada having decided that Route 50, the so-called Loneliest Road in America, was best crossed with all due speed. Hope to do some hiking here and head next week to Yosemite. More to come, and I'm grateful to be here to tell it!

















Location: Arches National Park, Utah, USA

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