Missing Utah

When faced with the possibility of a solo trip OR a trip with Michael… I chose both

The urge has been coming on for a while now. You know what I mean. The urge to get out, go be a gypsy, go live in the truck again. Unfortunately being a full-time traveler isn’t quite in the cards right now. Still, it’s pretty much the slow season at work so I was able to finagle two weeks off.

Utah has been calling to me.

Don’t get me wrong, California’s great and all, but… nothing matches the red rock desert.

Initially I thought Michael would be able to join me for the two weeks, but there were a couple of hang-ups along the way. Short version: I took my two weeks and Michael would join me halfway through.

The initial plan was for me to head up first towards my beloved Capitol Reef National Park, spend a few days there, and then go back south, picking Michael up at the Las Vegas airport. Then we’d tackle Zion National Park together.

That meant some unique things with my setup. Solo travel in Taco Negro is pretty different from when Michael and I travel together.

We put the rooftop tent up over the cab, but when I travel solo I don’t need it. (So for a week it was basically a giant sail up there.) I mean, a six foot bed is plenty of room for my five-foot-tall self.

That’s my solo set-up. I sleep on an REI self-inflating mattress, in between the water containers and the cooler. There’s plenty of room! When I crawl in for the night I also bring with me my laptop, lights, book, water, and snacks.

You know, I think that for future solo trips I’m going to look into a smaller cooler. The 65-quart is overkill for me, and it’s also exceptionally heavy when it’s fully loaded.

But I digress.

It took me about 7 hours to reach this little spot in the above picture, which is on BLM land and only about 5 miles or so from Nevada’s Valley Of Fire State Park. The area was quiet and the spot I chose was secluded enough. My original plan was to head out the very next morning, continuing along to Capitol Reef, which was still about 5 hours away.

Seven hours of driving is a long time. I love Taco Negro, but I really did not want to spend another day in that driver’s seat. And Valley of Fire was right there! So I changed the plan, and I’m so glad I did.

I’d heard of this place before and seen a few pictures, but I haven’t spent a lot of time vacationing in Nevada so I never had the chance to check it out. It was like a mini-Utah! My red-rock-desert tank was starting to fill up.

Looking over the map I received when I paid my $10 entry fee, I figured out the trail I wanted to hike: the Prospect Trail. It started off a trail called the White Domes Loop, and the drive to the trailhead looked pretty cool in and of itself.

White Domes Loop actually began with a little slot canyon – my favorite! After about a mile the Prospect Trail separated off into a sandy wash and once I got on that trail I didn’t see another person. That was good… and bad. There were a ton of social trails out there, and I didn’t have an actual trail map or anything. So I stuck to the social trail that had the same set of footprints, a men’s size Keen. They were easy enough to follow.

There were wildflowers here, too. Not quite the superbloom California was experiencing, but still. I’ve never seen so much color in the desert before.

But at some point, I kind of wondered if I was still on the Prospect Trail. Mostly it was the whole not-seeing-anyone-else thing.

Then I found this little side canyon, and who cared what trail I was on? It was time to check this bad boy out.

I hiked just about to the end. Yes, there was a defined trail the whole way, even the parts where I had to scramble over boulders. But then, I came to a point where I would not have felt safe downclimbing and, keeping in mind that my body might prove difficult to find, I enjoyed the view from this vantage point:

It was the perfect spot for a little snack. When I started back towards the trailhead is actually where the doubt started creeping in. Remember all those social trails I mentioned? Well, more than once I suddenly became very unsure that I was headed in the right direction. I would look down at the sand as I walked… until I found my own tracks. No, this wasn’t that hard. My feet might be small but my shoes say “LaSportiva” on the soles in big letters.

Back at Taco Negro I emptied all the sand out of my LaSportivas before looking over my options. About two hours away was a town called Cedar City, and a free camping spot at the Parowan Petroglyphs.

The drive was uneventful but I gained a bit of altitude along the way. The petroglyphs are also on BLM land and turned out to be a good 15 miles from Cedar City. As I turned down a dirt road I could see the petroglyphs in the distance.

Now, I don’t have any other pictures but this area seemed to be a bit of a geographical anomaly. These cliff walls were a good 60 feet high, but I’m telling you, the area around it was completely flat. I took this image not even a quarter mile before the petroglyphs area:

I’m curious why sheep herding dogs in America all seem to be Great Pyrenees. I saw this in California, too, near Bodie Ghost Town. I mean, I thought border collies were the best sheep dogs?

Anyway. The free camping spot turned out to be the parking lot for the petroglyphs, which felt a little weird. Okay, a lot weird. But there weren’t any signs that said I couldn’t camp there, so I went for it. Before it got dark I took a lot of pictures – petroglyphs are cool.

I should mention that I took these pictures while wearing my down jacket, Uggs, and a wool earflap hat. Cedar City sits at almost 6,00 feet in elevation. It was cold up there.

Now, for sleeping, that’s not a problem. Seriously. I have a 15 degree sleeping bag and tons of warm clothes. Closing down the windows on the topper keeps it pretty mild back there.

No, it was the whole cooking and eating thing I was worried about. Who wants to cook outside in 40 degree weather? Who wants to eat outside in 40 degree weather?

When it got dark I curled up with my laptop, watched Ant Man, and figured I’d worry about it in the morning. Maybe the sun would come out – that’s been known to make a huge difference in the temperature. All I could do was hope for the best.