Adventures in Red-Rock Land

Hey kids,

Last month I went on a red-rock camping adventure with my "college roommates." Yes, I am still in college, but these ladies are my besties from when I was actually college-aged (as opposed to super old, as I am now). Natalie, Melissa, and I met our freshman year, and Rebecca joined our awesomeness shortly after. We've since gone our separate ways—me to grad school, Nat and Meliss to the the working world, and Becca to the working world then back to school—but we're still bffs.

To foster our tender love for one another, we take gurl vay-cays. Last year we went to Missoula, Montana (aka hippie town and Nat's ancestral lands); and a few years ago we went to St. George and SoCal (aka God's green gift to the USA and my ancestral lands):

Rebecca, Me, and Meliss in Missoula, May 2012

Me and Nat at the beach, July 2010 (I think we were a little late in applying sunscreen ... )

This time we ventured to Bryce Canyon Nat. Park and to Lake Powell in Page, Arizona. As we weren't traveling to any of our ancestral lands, there were no comfy guest beds nor loving mummies to provide home-cooked meals.

Nope. We went camping, and despite the worries of Mel's and Nat's doubting boyfriends, we four ladies were able to survive in the wilderness sleeping in tents and cooking over fire and coals. (OK fine, we went to a restaurant on the last night—but it was inside an old riverboat and staffed by real Navajos. Seriously, who can pass that up?) The point is, we survived. We got the last campsite in Bryce Canyon, and our tents survived a windstorm at Lake Powell. We. Are. Awesome.

Here are some photos to help you catch a glimpse of our adventures. Be advised that I don't have a real camera; these were taken on my iPod and so do not accurately represent the slender that is southern Utah. 

Out on the Open Road 

Nat and Mel stuffing the car full of food.
So we wouldn't die in the wilderness.

Nat driving and Becca navigating

On the way down to Bryce Canyon, we passed by Big Rock Candy Mountain whilst listening to the folk song of the same name. It was so perfect—and became even more perfect when Becca announced, "we're on a bridge, Charlie!" We stopped to take pics of the famed mountain (it was yellow, fyi). The song says that the boxcars at Candy Mountain are all empty—we found a bunch of box cars right off the freeway, and, don't worry, Nat and I crossed the street and walked inside the box cars to make sure that they actually were empty.

The colorful boxcars

More boxcars. 

I was really excited to see them. And I felt like a rebel for running

across a mountain freeway.

This is what it looked like inside the boxcars. They really were empty.

After that, it was on to Bryce Canyon! We camped there for a day then camped at Lake Powell for two.

What Are Men to Rocks and Mountains?
When we got to Bryce Canyon on Thursday afternoon, we set up camp then headed out to what the park guide called the "World's Best 3-Mile Hike." No way we were going to miss out on that. It goes down into the canyon and weaves among the "hoodoos"—the tall rock formations for which the canyon is famous.

I got my first glimpse of the hoodoos at the trail head. As we walked up to the rim from the parking lot, there was no hint of the orange loveliness that awaited us. Looking over the edge into the canyon for the first time was beautiful. The red rocks of southern Utah are not just red—they are also orange and yellow and white and blue and purple.

View from rim. iPod doesn't do it justice.

Whilst hiking, I wanted to feel connected to the canyon so I kept touching all the rocks I could reach. Touching is one of the primary ways I connect with the world— every time I go to the temple I have to touch the carpet and the walls to feel there, to feel present. As I touched, hugged, and, yes, even kissed the rocks, Meliss commented that I am a tactile person. It's true, I suppose.

At least I wasn't as extreme as Natalie, who felt she needed to taste the dirt to feel connected to the canyon. True story. So gross (says the girl who kissed a rock ... ). Anyway, the hike was loverly—the weather was perfect, there weren't too many people, the distance was ideal. aahhhaha I wish I were there RIGHT NOW.

I heart the canyon!

The trail down into the canyon. Who loves switchbacks?

My buddies: Becca, Nat, and Meliss

A bridge!

You shall not pass!

Melissa is SO COOL.

See what I mean?

We had to check out all the scenic lookouts after hiking the world's best 3-mile hike.

Cool cave things. Natalie spent almost 20 minutes taking pics of these. She said that there are so many details in the rocks that there is no way she'd ever be able to remember, so she tried to capture as many as possible. Interesting philosophy—but it got kinda annoying after awhile as we had to keep stopping to take pics. Love yah, Nat

I want to go to there.

After Bryce, we went to Lake Powell and Page, Arizona. I didn't take as many pics there, but here's what I got:

Horseshoe Bend in Lake Powell. Again, pic does not really capture its gloriousness. We wanted to kayak around this island, but the boat rental peeps said it would take more than a day to do so. We would've had to camp on a beach. Totes cray!

I am so fierce. Especially after contemplating nature and the meaning of life.

We took a tour through Antelope Canyon, a slot canyon. A nice Navajo man drove us out to and guided us through this super skinny and super beautiful canyon. I tried to take nice pics with my iPod.

This pic is kind of nice

I am such an exploradora!

That's the remainder of my scenic pics. Sorry I didn't take any of the lake! It was beautiful, but the windy weather made it hard to enjoy to its fullest. Ah well.

Diversity
If you want to practice your French or German language skills, southern Utah/northern Arizona is your place, peeps. There were tons of Europeans. Also, lots of really happy Asians. I think they were mostly Japanese. Why are Asians always so happy when they are on vacation? Dunno. Anyway, as testament to the commonness of French and German, I found signs everywhere in these languages:

On the picnic table at our first campsite. I kept reading the German one loudly then shouting in German, until we realized that our neighbors were German. Ooopsies; don't want to abuse their language haha

The laundry room at our second campsite. The only time I've ever seen a German translation come before a Spanish one. 

Another language I heard was Navajo. Page is right next to the Navajo nation, and the slot canyon we toured is on Navajo land. After our tour of the canyon, we wanted to get ourselves some real Navajo tacos, so we asked our tour guide for tips. He said there were no restaurants or food trucks or anything that sold Navajo tacos—a serious hole in the market; they could make a killing off we tourists.

But he did tell us about a flea market up in one of the Navajo villages that sold food. We went to check it out—and we were the only white people there, haha (there was a black guy, though). I bought some jewelry (below) from a cute old Navajo lady. (The old people were SO CUTE. So were the babies. Which is true of any nationality, I think.)

An earring and bracelet I got at the Navajo flea market. The bracelet is made with cedar seeds, called "ghost beads," to scare away the evil spirits. Thank goodness.

 And we found ourselves some real, authentic Navajo tacos. Which weren't fried dough piled with Mexican food and cheese, btw's. The tacos had fresh mutton (I tried not to think about how fresh), corn still on the cob, a potato wedge, and red onions, all rolled up in fried bread. So yummy! While we were waiting for our foods, Mel and I met a guy with a baseball hat that said "chief" on it. I wonder if he really was the chief .... anyway, he told us that we needed to stand in the shade or we will get all red like everyone else :-) haha. The people we met at the market were very sweet and funny and interesting; we felt totes legit for finding the place where the locals go. Yay for travel and culture.

Our Dam Adventure 
After our tour of the slot canyon, we decided to do a spot of shopping. We are gurlz, after all. And, besides, we found this place:

Named after the Glen Canyon Dam, of course. The dam that makes Lake Powell. I didn't buy anything at the dam store, but I think Melissa bought her dad a shirt there.

Have you lost the maturity contest yet? If not, allow me to continue.

The dam bridge

The weather at Lake Powell was windy and rainy, so we couldn't kayak or swim as planned. So we went on a drive, right over the dam bridge. The dam bridge crosses over the Glen Canyon Dam. As we drove over the dam bridge, I spotted the dam visitors' center and realized that I'd never gone on a dam tour before. In fact, I had no dam knowledge whatsoever and suddenly desired a dam education. So Natalie pulled over just in time for Meliss and I to get the last spots on the next dam tour, on which we were led by an attractive, blue-eyed, Spanish-speaking RM dam tour guide. We stood on the dam top and got a great view of the river and the dam bridge. We saw the dam generators where the dam water passes through to make the electricity. (Had enough yet?) When we were done, Becca pointed us to a quiz game in the dam visitors' center called "Test Your Dam IQ."

View of the river from the dam top.

It was a lot of dam fun.

Te he he he he.

Anywho, that's all I have to say about that gurlz vay-cay. It was soooo gooood! I wish I could be on vacation all the time ever. Alas. We will have to do it again soon, ladies :-)

Cheers!