The first stop was Park Avenue. I got out to look from the viewpoint where I noticed that there were stone steps down a ways onto the canyon floor. I decided I would head down there. On the way down there was a notice that it was a primative trail and to follow the cairns--stacked up rock way markers. I like the idea of cairns, at the first one I added a rock to one and gave a silent thanks for having the ability to enjoy the view and go for a hike.
I walked out a ways with the wall of the canyon shielding the sun which presented a cool stroll. In the distance, I saw a natural oblecisk formation and wanted to see how it would change as I approached it.
I continued on my way and noticed this water puddle and thought it was intriguing because I could get a photo of the canyon wall in the reflection. This reminded me of one of my favorite photos that K took in Montreal, so in homage to her photographic skills I took this. To me the puddle is shaped like a fish and the sedimate is positioned perfectly for his mouth. Pretty cool, huh?
On my way out I met a few people but for the most part I was on my on in the vast gradeur. Perfect. It was quiet in the canyon and I felt at peace with nature's wonders surrounding me. I met one person who said that around the bend she thought you could see The Three Wise Men and that she had walked out until she saw the road and the next parking lot. I headed out as she headed back in.
After I got out to where I saw the road and the Courthouse, I headed back in. The sun was beating down, it was after 11 in the morning. We were in for a hot day.
On the way back in, I noticed a formation I thought was pretty darn nifty. It looked like a giant had dropped a stone between the two rocks.
Once on the road again, I past the Courthouse turn in since I walked all but about of a 100 feet to it. The next stop was the Petrified Sand Dunes. The marker informed me that this was actually a misnomer because only organic material could actually become petrified, sand isn't organic. This reminded me of my first visit to the Petrified Forest. I was naive enough to imagine that all the trees had turned to stone upright. I was a bit disappointed to realize that they were bits and pieces of longs that had washed away millenia ago. I don't know how I throught that upright trees could become petrified--looking upon the gorgon Medusa? Once over the initial dispointment, I found the Petrified Forest magnificent in much the same way I was awed by the Petrified Sand Dunes--organic material or not.
Next on the route was Balancing Rock. This was a very short out and back stop--one that initially had me concluding that Arches was not a hiking attraction. Balancing Rock is pretty cool, but personally I prefer the rock between the two pillars more so.
Back in the car, time was ticking down before I had to get into town for a late lunch and then on the road to Denver. I passed the turn off for the Delicate Arch hike rather opting for the shorter viewpoint of the Delicate Arch hike. I wanted to make it all the way to the last stop--Devil's Garden. I parked, grabbed my water and headed up the short less than half mile trail. The trail was pleasant enough--and hot enough. Once to top, I looked over at the Delicate Arch. Awesome. Then I saw people hiking over to the arch--it looked like they were walking on a moonscape.
I developed a sudden and intense urge to go see it for myself. I wanted my body to be walking on the moonscape. On the way back down I began to fomulate plans to stop and do the Delicate Arch hike. I chatted for a bit with some on my fellow desenders and verified that the hike was 3 miles round trip. Hmmm, 3 miles, I should be able to do that in an hour, right? I walk 20 minute miles. This apparently was to become my first lesson in how long a vertical mile actually can take.
I backtracked to the Delicate Arch parking lot, grabbed a powerbar and water. I got to the trailhead when I realized that I had left my camera in the car. I briefly considered going on without it but then reminded myself that if I did I would inevibily kick myself for not taking the 5 extra minutes to retrieve it. Needless to say, I was right. At the trail head, I looked up, saw little ants scrambling on the side of the mountain. I told myself that was where I had to go, the Arch was just over the horizon--boy was I ever wrong. In reality the top marked about halfway.
One the way up, there was a family with a 5 year old that just was not having fun. It was hot, steep and really just no fun. She was protesting in a most vocal way. I felt her pain, but unlike her, I could vizualize the payoff--I had seen it from the viewpoint. I debated with myself for a bit whether I should intefer or not and decided, I really didn't want to listen to the little girl in so much distress. So I yelled out to them that they needed to take her mind off her discomfort. Huh? they responded--how do you do that? they added. Here let me show you how, I introduced myself to the little girl and told her we were going to play a game. I had her pick up a rock and throw it as far as she could up the side. Once she did that I told her we were going to now walk to the rock. We did, then she got to throw it again. She calmed down, got into the game and I realized she was also helping me take my mind off my own discomfort and internal monologue to turn back. I told here that once we were at the top, I wanted to take a photo with her. And we did.
Once at the top, I crossed over a low lying rock wall to walk around to the Arch. The way out was at a slight incline which ended in a pretty big drop that I had to get my head around.
I told myself, that the traction was good, I could stay about 20 feet away from the drop off. I thought about one time in Hawaii where we had to go up a short rope to get to the next level and back on the trail. I balked and balked, all I could focus on was the 20 foot drop if I happened to let go of the rope. I argued with myself, Why would you let go? I don't know, but you might? But really would I given the result? But something could happen to make you let go and then you would DIE. But really I wouldn't let go. But when you are on the rope maybe you will want to let go. And on it went, the only thing that got me up on the rope and to the next level was when the dog made it up before me. Really, a dog scrambled up without the actual aide of the rope. Geez. So once out on the ledge, I had to keep telling myself that there was no reason for me to fall down the hole and I also kept reminding myself that I might. Again Geez!!! But I did it, I made it to the Arch. Well worth all the effort.
With a few photo ops. A couple of fellow hikers and I exchanged camera so that we could get each other. With time a ticking and belly a growling, I headed down.
I knew that I would get a brief respite on the way when the trail lay again the canyon wall which blocked the sun. I rested for a bit here and finished my water. Here is what I don't get about myself.
The drop off on the trail here was pretty signficant but I didn't mind walking along it at all. As long as I have a trail wide enough for me to walk and wobble a bit and don't have the sensation that I might fall, I am perfectly OK. It's not a fear of heights that I have but rather a fear of falling.
On down the trail, sun beating down, I was out of water and entirely thirsty, hungry, uncomfortable and getting a bit wobbly. Finally and not a minute too soon I made it to the car. I broke out my emergency water and downed some. Still a little shakey I got into the car. It was well past almost 3 and I needed to get on the road. I stopped off at the Visitor Center and grabbed a cold PowerAide. Once I downed it, I felt a little more right with the world--enough so to make it into town for lunch. I decided to have lunch at the local brewery. There I had a Greek Chicken Salad and three small samples of the local brew. All very good. I thought I could safely have a couple of samples.
Gas and then on the road to Denver. The drive was uneventful for the most part. I had hoped to make it to Denver before Sunset but that went out the door the minute I decided to hike to Delicate Arch. I was perhaps a bit thankful, I couldn't see clearly because it seems that a signifcant part of I-70 is elevated and attached to the side of the mountain. I know this because I saw tree tops off to my right. Better not to know sometimes. I made it to Arveda and then to find K's house. I made a few wrong turns but eventually I made it in before 11. K said she was a bit surprised in the direction I came in. Then she quickly added--I don't want to know. Which is good, because I have not idea how I did it either. So very good to see K again. K is one of my dearest friends. She was the first person I met at Oklahoma State after my roommate. She was my next door neighbor, eventually became a roommate for a short period and has visited me in almost every place I have lived. She probably knows me better than almost anyone else. To this I am thankful. And she took me on a couple of very good tours which are forthcoming.
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