Bryce Canyon National Park, Utah

We rolled up to the entrance gate of Bryce Canyon National Park in glorious sunshine and it was 23 degrees Fahrenheit, when we were lucky.  We were on the run from the third of four storm fronts that were travelling south-east from Canada and that had dumped three feet of snow on Salt Lake City the night before.  Bryce Canyon National Park is a little slip of a park next to the largesse of the Grand Staircase to the south and east.  The sole access road traverses a north-south aligned cliff that drops off to the east to amphitheatres of pink and orange hoodoos, cliffs, pinnacles and grottos.  A Hoodoo, dear reader, is a rock shaped like a tower or a chimney.  They are usually made from sandstone, and are found throughout the south of Utah, but never in the concentrations that can be found at Bryce Canyon. 

We did a drive along the parts of the scenic drive that were still open, stopping at the highlights. Alex was brave enough to walk along the rim for a mile or so between two highlights. Ellisha was not.  There was a couple of feet of snow on the ground.  It was the dry powder that is really only found in the Rocky Mountains.  So dry that you can walk in shorts without discomfort, and so light that even the prints of the high desert mice are clearly visible.  No doubt an experienced tracker could have told many a story from the myriad hoof and paw prints that snaked in and around the paths. 

The snow, which had fallen during the night, picked out the horizontal details of the Hoodos, Utah Junipers and Pinyon Pines.  The park also contains some Bristlecone Pines that are amongst the oldest in the world.  Unfortunately, because people steal souvenirs of these old trees, the location of the oldest trees is kept secret by a society of foresters.  The oldest tree whose location is revealed to the general public is only 1,600 years old, while the oldest tree – named “Methuselah” – is 4,765 years old and located somewhere in the White Mountains in California. 

As a considerable amount of snow had already fallen and we knew that the big storm was on its way that night, it was time to hit the road for lower elevations and warmer temperatures. Time for Las Vegas. Viva Las Vegas. What happens in Vegas, stays in Vegas.  This is what didn’t happen in Vegas: http://www.youtube.com/watch?v=zLO70NN9iz4&NR=1