Needles Overlook, Canyon Rims SMRA, Moab, Utah

Not technically in Canyonlands National Park, the Needles Overlook gives a 270° view of the park’s Needles District. It’s about a 22 mile drive (one way) off of US 191, southwest of Moab, Utah. IMHO, the view rivals Grand Canyon’s rim.

At the canyon bottom below, you can barely make out the gray-turquoise of the Colorado River, which carved out Canyonlands and the Grand Canyon further south.

This is where I left Liz’s seed ball, rather than in the official borders of Canyonlands. But I don’t think she’d mind.

I would have totally missed out on this incredible place if it weren’t for Spenser, a traveling Mainer who helped me get Kennel un-snowbound a couple weeks ago. He recommended – just about insisted – I visit Needles Overlook. So glad I listened!

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La Sal Mountain Viewpoint, Arches National Park, Moab, Utah

This is where Milkweed Memoir began. At this spot at Arches National Park in Sept. 2014, Liz and I started planning this journey and this blog. Only she was supposed to join me.

She was dying by inches from ALS (Lou Gherig’s Disease). One never knows how the disease will progress, but statistics said she probably had at most two years left. So we decided to go see a bunch of National Parks before she was too weak to travel.

In two-and-a-half weeks, we traveled from Brownsville, Texas – nearly the southernmost point in the continental United States – to Glacier National Park on the Canadian border – and back again. We saw 17 National Parks, as well as other beautiful sites.

But the trip was so quick! Too quick.

The day we visited Arches, we drove from Farmington, N.M., to Salt Lake City, Utah. We stopped at Mesa Verde National Park as well. We only got to spend about an hour at Arches, enough to do the scenic drive and zip along to Salt Lake.

Passing La Sal Mountain Viewpoint, we began lamenting how quick the trip was. We started talking about how great it would be if, after Liz retired, we could spend about a week at or near each of the parks. As many as possible, anyway. Really take time to absorb the places, to grok them.

And being a marketing writer, I started pushing the idea of a blog about our travels, maybe a book deal. I started spinning the idea of endorsements from the wheelchair van and DME manufacturers. I sold it as a chance to do well by doing good and inspiring others.

But Liz put her foot down against any media interviews or other personal exposure, which would be necessary for such a scheme. She was a shy, private person.

Still, the idea of traveling more and more slowly – even in a wheelchair van, even lugging along a trailer of medical equipment – had captured our imagination. It was the seed of a plan.

Her disease progressed faster than we feared, however. She died exactly one year ago, March 19, 2015.

In the months before she died, I promised her I’d do this trip for her and take her ashes, mixed in milkweed seed balls, to every National Park in the Lower 48.

Now I’m here at the beginning place exactly a year after she died. I said a few words, toasted her with ice cream, and let loose a seed ball.

This trip and blog are a lovely memorial, I guess. That’s what people tell me. But I’d much rather have her here with me, seeing what I see. Death isn’t fair.

We humans may never escape death, but I believe that with hard work and funding, we will conquer ALS.

Please donate to The ALS Association. They are doing an amazing job of supporting both current ALS patients and primary scientific research into the disease.

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Apple Blossoms, Capitol Reef National Park, Fruita, Utah

In mid-March, apple trees blossom in the historic Fruita, Utah, orchards, against the background of Capitol Reef National Park.

Visit during harvest season, and you can sample the apples, cherries, peaches, and other fruit – as much as you can eat! But you're not allowed to take any extra from the park.

I left a milkweed seed ball in this fertile place along the headwaters of the Fremont River.

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Hoodoo Labyrinth, Devil's Garden, Grand Staircase-Escalante National Monument, Utah

Along the 40 mile gravel road from Escalante, Utah, to the famous Hole in the Rock is Devil’s Garden, a hoodoo labyrinth that could be an original Star Trek set.

With each narrow corner I turned, horn-heavy danger music from the original series blasted through my head. And I kept expecting a love-sick Vulcan to jump out at me, exotic polearm in hand.

It’s a lovely spot for a picnic! Wonder if Gene Roddenberry ever stopped by to munch on some chicken salad?

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Rainbow Point, Bryce Canyon National Park, Utah

At over 9,000 feet and 20+ miles into the park, Rainbow Point isn’t nearly as photographed as Bryce Point, but it’s amazing in its own way.

From here, you can see the mountains and plateaus of southeastern Utah and southwestern Colorado – perhaps hundreds of miles!

Being there, I felt as if I were at the top of the world – maybe not even this world. In “The Voyage of the Dawn Treader” by C.S. Lewis, the heroes – Edwin, Lucy, and Eustace – enter Narnia at Aslan’s Mountain, which overlooks all of the Narnian world. That’s what Rainbow Point made me think of.

And because Rainbow Point feels like Aslan’s Mountain, and because it’s more quiet than the chief tourist attraction of Bryce Point, I laid a milkweed seed ball here. Liz would have approved, I think.

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Slickrock Crevice, Kodachrome State Park, Cannonville, Utah

Kodachrome Basin State Park in Cannonville, Utah, is must see near Bryce Canyon and, at 2,000 ft. (600 m) lower elevation, a warmer place to camp. And for the latter, I was truly grateful to be below the snow line.

After all the effort of excavating Kennel from the snowbank, I didn’t have the energy to enjoy Bryce Canyon National Park. I know, I tried. After a late breakfast, the girls and I drove up into the park and to a few viewpoints. They were pretty, but I hardly cared. Forget about getting out of Kennel to walk anywhere.

Instead, we drove down the plateau to get a campsite at Kodachrome. Then I didn’t do anything for the rest of the day but sleep and absorb painkillers into my tissues.

But this morning, I took the girls on a 3-mile walk from our camp and around the Grand Parade Trail. It’s an easy trail, but it meanders along the edge of the Kodachrome Basin, among and through its common features.

I was grateful to get a nice, long walk with the girls in the warm sun. It was also fun to explore the slickrock crevices and snap some photos. It made me feel like Ansel Adams.

Fun fact: Kodachrome Basin was named such by the National Geographic Society with permission of Kodak. This is according to the park’s newsletter. I’m glad they answered that question. I wondered if the the state of Utah had any risk of trademark infringement. But I guess they don’t.

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Kennel UN-Snowbound, Coyote Hollow Equestrian Campground, Dixie National Forest, Utah

After a snowbound night, Kennel is free thanks to several hours of hard work and the help of a passing Mainer. The challenge was … significant.

Obstacles to Freedom

• Ice-hard snow packed into the struts and other undercarriage nooks
• 2 inches (5 cm) of solid ice under the snow
• Front tires dug into melty gravel pits
• Front differential only spinning driver-side wheel
• All-season tires, not snow tires or chained
• Parked in a dip

I awoke at 6:30 a.m., refreshed and ready to rumble. The spirit of Joshua Slocum inspired me, and I set to work.

Slocum was the first to do
a solo circumnavigation.
Great writer, too!

Last night, it got close to 20° F (-7° C), which I hoped had frozen the melt under the front tires enough to let me slowly rock backwards out of the holes. No such luck. So I drank some coffee, took my morning “constitutional,” ate two cheese sticks, and contemplated physics.

It occurred to me that the solid ice behind the tires was acting as a brake. It wasn’t enough to move the snow. If I could remove the ice to a level lower than the holes, perhaps gravity would help me back up? So I took a mallet and makeshift chisel (screwdriver) and lay down on my side to chip away the ice like a 19th century miner. I did this for all the tires, front and back, and used my small pickax to excavate more rock-like snow from under kennel.

My expectations were high as I set Kennel into reverse and tried to slowly back out. No luck, not enough traction.

About then, Spenser, a Mainer who’d camped nearby, offered help. We tried adding his push to Kennel’s work, but nothing, no traction. We dug out more snow from under the van. Still no dice.

Spenser, who knows from snow, was puzzled. Honestly, I liked that. It made me feel less stupid.

Spenser suggested his tire chains. It took us about an hour, what with mounting chains, pushing Kennel, putting floor mats under the tires, turning wheels left and right, and digging out yet more snow. But finally – FINALLY! – Kennel rolled backwards to freedom.

All in all, it took me 3-4 hours of hard labor to get Kennel UN-snowbound. If you add Spenser’s contribution, 4-5 man hours total.

After a celebratory chat, Spenser resumed his own adventures. I headed into Bryce Canyon City for a big, hot brunch and LOTS of coffee.

“Life Elevated,” huh, Utah? About now, I’m ready for low altitudes, heat shimmers on the road, and palm trees.

Kennel Snowbound, Coyote Hollow Equestrian Campground, Dixie National Forest, Utah

All one’s childlike love of snow gets shot to hell when one’s van gets stuck in the stuff. I’m staying put for the night. But how will I get out? And how did I get into this predicament?

It all started innocently enough. After heading out from Coral Pink Sand Dunes State Park, I headed north on US 89 toward Bryce Canyon.

A beautiful, warm, sunny day, I enjoyed the scenery along the way, stopping often to admire the view, and once to get fresh, crusty rye bread from Forscher German Bakery in Orderville, Utah. (It’s a must stop if you’re going that way. Big, crusty loaves that weigh pounds, not ounces.)

The RoadPro 12V Stove is awesome
for easy on-the-road cooking!

The views were complemented by the odors of slowly roasting pork, cabbage, and potatoes in my RoadPro Stove. I only lacked for good beer and a pretty girl by my side. Little did I know what lay ahead ...

After turning east on Utah 12 and passing through Red Canyon, I finally got to Bryce Canyon City, just outside the National Park. As it was already 3 p.m., I decided to find a camp for the night and visit the park tomorrow.

On one of my favorite sites, Freecampsites.net, I found a likely option, the Coyote Hollow Equestrian Camp, just a little west of Bryce Canyon City. As I exited Utah 12 onto the dry, gravel road toward the camp, all looked promising. I could see it off in the distance, across a lovely open field and just into the pines.

Suddenly, as the road curved into the trees, I saw some snow patches on the road. Huh, I thought to myself, better be careful. Then, Hey, that patch looks a little dee…

And Kennel slammed to a stop. I tried to drive out but only spun the tires. After digging out snow, putting down gravel, and generally getting cold and wet, I was still stuck. In exasperation, I’d melted the ice under the tires. I was going nowhere. It was about 4:30 p.m. So, I’m waiting until morning for the melt to refreeze and give me get some traction.

The worst part (besides my utter humiliation)? I had to put on socks.

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Snowstorm, Coral Pink Sand Dunes State Park, Kanab, Utah

Is it Christmas? I felt like it when a brief snowstorm frosted Coral Pink Sand Dunes State Park near Kanab, Utah. And the snow came with benefits!

Coral Pink Sand Dunes is a popular park for folks to drive their noisy dune buggies and other OHVs. On this particular weekend, even though it was early in the season, the campground was full of riders doing their thang.

If you know me, you know I hate full campgrounds and anywhere there’s lots of people. Especially when they have loud, obnoxious hobbies. Then the storm came.

At first, it was just rain on Saturday night, March 5, continuing off and on through Sunday. That drove off the dune buggy people. I was ecstatic. The girls and I cuddled in Kennel, staying dry and warm. I finished reading the hilarious "Lamb: The Gospel According to Biff, Christ's Childhood Pal " by Christopher Moore.

But then, about 6 p.m. Sunday, March 6, I looked outside. The rainstorm hand become a snowstorm! Snow! SNOW!

I hopped out the van like Jiminy Cricket and ran around in my shorts and Tevas snapping photos as the little puffs came drifting down. Christmas, indeed!

You see, I’m from South Texas. The last time it snowed there was 2004, on Christmas Eve, and that was the first time in a century. Literally. So snowy weather is still a treat for me, not a pain to shovel and drive through. It was darned pretty too. So sue me.

Alas, the ground was warm enough that most of the snow had melted by 9 a.m. Monday morning. But I was there at ground zero! I’m a happy, happy boy!

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Kennel Chills, Zion RV & Campground, Mount Carmel, Utah

Kennel (the van) cooled his treads today at family-owned Zion RV & Campground, which is better than the National Park campgrounds, IMHO. Why?

First of all try getting a spot in Zion National Park without a reservation. I tried and failed! So Kennel, Coco, Tiarra, and I headed east into Utah’s Slickrock Country.

But just 3 miles east of the park entrance, we found *our* Zion. It’s beautiful, quiet, and price-competitive with the National Park. The tent campsites are nestled among shrubby trees, so you don’t feel elbow-to-elbow with other campers. There are also games, WiFi, showers, and laundry.* Across the street is a trading post with curios, souvenirs, a pizza parlor, and a demonstration blacksmith shop.

Best of all, there’s a whole lot fewer people on the east side of Zion National Park. The west entrance gets all the Salt Lake City and Las Vegas (and other) visitors coming off I-15. It’s an overdeveloped playground for the rich and richer. But this side of the park is kind of in the middle of nowhere – just the way I like it.

If you’re coming up here to stay awhile, and especially if you have kids with you, I think the campground is a better option than the National Park. It’s less busy, there’s more for the kids to do, and you’ve got showers, which you don’t get in the National Park – all for about the same price.

Zion RV & Campground is owned by the same family as Zion Mountain Ranch, a buffalo (American bison) ranch just up the street. The ranch has cabins and lodges, horseback trips into the National Park, and a restaurant that specializes in serving buffalo meat.

Here’s a recent review I found on YouTube:



* Note: Right now, they’re doing upgrades on the shower house. But the laundry and bathrooms work. The contractors will be done by “the season,” which I guess is end of April 2016 or so.

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Bighorn Sheep, Zion National Park, Mount Carmel, Utah

This is an actual photo – not a painting – of bighorn sheep resting on a slickrock outcrop along Zion National Park’s Mount Carmel Highway. But you can hardly be blamed for thinking otherwise.

First, the magnification is zoomed up to my little Kodak’s maximum. Second, the textures, lines, and colors of the Slickrock Country on Zion’s east side are … fanciful, faerie-like. While driving through, I, myself, could hardly believe I was in a real place of this world.

Perhaps Zion National Park isn’t quite of this world after all. Zion, to the Mormons (Latter Day Saints), who gave this region its English name, is a metaphorical as well as real place. It is the ancient city of Enoch, which was taken to Heaven and will return to Earth so that a temple will be built (rebuilding of Solomon’s temple?) during Jesus’ second coming.

I’m probably reading too much into this. It’s fanciful to think that one can walk in a place that straddles the gateway between Heaven and Earth, between the mortal and Faerie. Yet like Kolob Canyons yesterday, I can’t help but feel I’m in the presence of a power or powers greater than myself. The Earth throbs with life, even in each grain of sand. And the Wind whispers with the Sun.

There’s that purple prose coming out of me, like poison in a hot sweat! Well, you come here and see if you don’t feel the same!

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Kolob Canyons, Zion National Park, New Harmony, Utah

In Mormon theology, Kolob is where God lives. And seeing Kolob Canyons at Zion National Park, you can believe that, yes, you’re coming into His presence, His home.

Just to clarify, though, Mormon’s don’t think God lives here in Kolob Canyons. No, to them, Kolob is a star or planet elsewhere in the universe where God and his wives live, and where we were all born as spirit children before being reborn as humans on Earth.

Fun fact: Glen A. Larson, the guy who created the original “Battlestar Galactica” series, is a Mormon and informed the series with Mormon theology, it’s “Mormons in Space,” right down to naming humans’ ancient planet of origin Kobol, an anagram of Kolob!

But I can understand why this place got named Kolob Canyons. You feel as if … as if you’re in the presence of something majestic and holy, as if God Himself might be standing just atop one of the mesas. The sandstone formations throughout the canyon are more uplifting, more awe-inspiring than any petty human church, mosque, or temple.

This is coming from an atheist, mind you. Yet in a place like Kolob Canyons, I can’t help but feel everything around me is alive. Call it pantheistic drivel, but the very earth and air *knows* me, has personhood. Is that so crazy? Humans before me have felt this way about natural places, and some cultures have included that perspective in their religions. If this is crazy, I think it’s the good kind of crazy.

I actually visited Kolob Canyons twice. On my way down to Virgin, Utah (near the Zion National Park entrance) from Parowan Gap the day before, I stopped by in the morning. But I realized later that I hadn’t left a milkweed seed ball. At camp in the evening, I knew that was an oversight that needed fixing, that Liz would have demanded I come back. So I did on this afternoon. And Kolob Canyons was no less inspiring the second day.

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Petroglyphs, Parowan Gap, Paragonah, Utah

Check out these ancient Native American petroglyphs at Parowan Gap, near Parowan, Utah! No one knows who made them or what they mean, but there are hypotheses aplenty.

Ute Chief Walker described Parowan Gap as “God’s Own House” to the 1849 Pratt Expedition. Indeed, Utes, Hopis, Paiutes, and other Native American peoples living Southwestern Utah in the area in the 19th century consider the place sacred and a bond to their ancestors. Yet at the same time, the petroglyphs were chiselled by more ancient cultures, possibly several, and modern Native Americans can’t translate them. But to quote an anonymous Native American, “a person doesn't work for hours and days deeply inscribing figures in solid rock just to doodle."

One hypothesis interests the heck out of me. Archaeologist V. Garth Norman claims in "The Parowan Gap" that the gap and the Zipper Glyph (I think that one that looks like a roach head with giant antennas) acted as an ancient solar observatory by the Fremont culture. The gap faces west and is narrow, so I could definitely see it being used to track the sun’s latitudinal path.

One thing that concerns my about Norman is that he’s "President of the Ancient America Foundation (AAF) for professional and scriptural archaeology research, and is Director of Archaeological Research Consultants (ARCON Inc.)." He also taught seminary I question whether his devotion to the Bible and the Book of Mormon outweighs his devotion to evidence. I know there’s a bunch of guys like him who’ve been proven time and again to be publishing garbage about Egyptian and Israeli “archaeology.” Mind you, that doesn’t mean he isn’t doing solid work; I’m just biased against him. But I’d like to read "The Parowan Gap" anyway and more fairly judge his work.

By the way: Shout out to Freecampsites.net, where I found out about the Parowan Gap Petroglyphs. It wasn’t my favorite free campsite because of traffic, but the petroglyphs are definitely worth a look-see.

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