I may have spent one cycle too many in the hot tub yesterday, because I felt like I was burning up all night. I lowered the thermostat, slept on top of my duvet, and opened the doors so that a draught could pass between rooms, all to no avail. When I woke up, however, everyone else was freezing. I wondered if I might be ill, but we decided maybe 45 minutes was too long to boil alive in a busy hot tub. Since enduring a week of agonising heat rash in France last year, I’ve realised that I’m quite sensitive to warm temperatures.
We were up early to do another of the Zion trails before we left. We also wanted to spend most of the day seeing Bryce Canyon on our way to Page, AZ, so time was of the essence. We ate pre-bought croissants (dry) and wandered along to the Riverside Trail, which required us to get the shuttle bus to its last stop. This trail seemed quite popular, even though it was early in the morning. Perhaps it was because, rather than a steep mountain clamber, the Riverside Trail is a chill amble along a well-maintained, partially-paved path at the bottom of a canyon. It was a balmy morning, so the trail was hardly a challenge at all. The entire journey, we were tailed by troops of flat-tailed ground squirrels which, entirely unfazed by human presence, jumped between rocks and squeezed through narrow gaps in the path-side wall.
Back to the car, and farewell to Zion. I’m sure, in another world, we’d have stayed an entire week here and walked until our legs were ground to dust. However, another national park is calling to us. We drove on towards Bryce, although we stopped briefly at these large orange stacks at the side of the road, where a few rudimentary trails were marked in a lighter shade of orange. These stacks were quite impressive, even slightly ominous in their scale. I understand the geological processes that lead to this kind of terrain (it’s all helpfully explained on nearby signs) but I don’t think my brain can fully comprehend it. The timeframe is simply too massive. I cannot fit millions of years in my head. Instead, I have this vision of these dusty, lumpy orange pillars, ridged and spiked in strange places, jumping up out of the earth’s surface one day, like nails through a board. And if I thought that was impressive, then Bryce Canyon was enough to blow my mind. Suddenly, the sparse forest swerves up then drops sharply down into an enormous amphitheatre of red, orange and white rock, littered with ridges and spires. Breathtaking. We took a brief walk down into the ravine, where the terrain’s extreme verticality becomes even more obvious and dizzying once it’s looming over you. We drove further along to some higher viewpoints, and all we could do was stare in awe. We live in Essex, which feels at times like the flattest, most geographically boring region in the entire world. Stuff like this just doesn’t exist in England. Even if I lived beside it, I’m not sure I could become used to it.
We left Bryce and went to a steakhouse buffet in Bryce Canyon City, which was heaving with hungry customers. We sat in the waiting area alongside a surprising amount of Quebecois tourists dressed in cowboy gear while an overwhelmed staff member shouted out names as tables became free. After about twenty or thirty minutes, we were sat down. I nailed a beef brisket sandwich and copious helpings from the salad bar. By the time we left, it was already dark, with two and a half hours ahead of us to Page, AZ. I finally finished writing a chapter, overcoming over a week of holiday writer’s block. Then I read a book by the rear interior car lights, which felt to me very transgressive, as I’d always been told that turning on the car lights while the car is in motion is illegal. As it turns out, this is an utter myth. What other lies was I told as a child that I still believe? This question prompts much pondering.
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