Zion

RISES AND FALLS: The road twisting through Zion Canyon.

ZION: LAST, BUT NOT LEAST, OF THE BIG 5

Using second gear exclusively, I got the truck over to the transmission shop in St. George, Utah at the start of business the day after Memorial Day.
There I was told, depending on the availability of parts, that it could be as long as week before I might be back on the road again. I cajoled, wheedled and then literally begged for faster service and, probably just to get me out of the office, the boss, Scott, assured me the truck would go to the head of the line with the possibility it would be available by the weekend.

The Checkerboard Mesa at the park's east gate.

As I've said before, this trip would be “an education.” And, for sure, I’m getting one … about automobiles!
Now, at loose ends for the first time in a while, I rented the cheapest compact car that I could find, and after some errands, drove the about 30-mile distance up into the scenic hills surrounding Zion National Park , the last of Utah’s five unique and wonderful National Parks that I would visit, with each one a unique visual thrill, like traveling to five different distinct planets.
With dinner plans on tap for that eveningwith Tom and Linda, friends I made at Bryce Canyon, I would have a few hours to explore the colorful canyons and cliffs contained within the park’s boundaries. Having driven through the park during late afternoon before with Roger and Connie and the truck in tow, I had an idea of what was up ahead and decided to travel back up through the park to the East gate and work my way back slowly in the direction of St. George.

Another excellent example on nature's cross-stitching.

Just inside that gate, which is 5,700 feet above sea level, one is confronted with a prime example of a Navajo sandstone formation (see above). This imposing mini-mountain thrust up 900 feet out of earth, but it looks wider than it is tall. This is all the more amazing because it is entirely made of sand – petrified sand, as Connie had pointed out. This geological wonder has been dubbed The Checkerboard Mesa, as it has horizontal and vertical lines forming a boxy pattern.
In other examples of this phenomenon, called crossbedding, around the park, the minerals in the sandstone, red and yellow colored, really pop out, making these mini-mountains seem plaid. The horizontal lines represent layers of wind-blown sand cemented together by calcite and iron oxide; the vertical lines are shallow cracks caused by expansion and contraction from temperature extremes and other weather factors.
The windy road leads you past many colorful examples of nature’s architecture in this place the Paiute and Anasazi Indians called Mukuntuweap. As there are several rivers flowing through the park, most notably the Virgin River, those ancient tribesmen used the many plateaus here for farming. The perfect altitude – between 5,000 and 7,000 feet, available water and wide level spaces, a combination very unusual in the desert, made conditions ideal for that pursuit.

The east entrance to 1.1-mile long Zion Tunnel.

Besides the colorful rises and flats, domes and formations akin to Hoodoos, there are many slot canyons with an abundance of wildflowers poking out of the rocky crevices. Juniper trees are also found all over this landscape, some also seemingly spouting right out of rock.
Zion boasts a 1.1-mile tunnel blasted right through a mountain that leads to a series of steep severe switchbacks, six in all, that wind through a section of the huge and picturesque Zion Canyon (see above). After climbing and descending through this area several times now, I know how lucky I am that my truck’s transmission croaked where it did, and not on these cliffs.
I was disappointed that there was no bighorn sheep to viewed this day, as well as any mountain lions, peregrine falcons, elk or tarantulas among the many types of wildlife populating this park. The park brochure, along with several other facts contained in this post, assured me examples of these species were nearby, but I had no luck in spotting any.
There is an excellent shuttle service in the park, with seven stops near to top attractions available for the shutterbug or the relaxing sightseer.

A Jumiper tree growing seemingly out of rock

There are, by my count, over 20 peaks within Zion over 6,000 feet above sea level, most well over 7,000 feet. These, along with the many backcountry trails, afford excellent opportunities for the more intrepid hikers and campers.
The camping sites here I found to be pedestrian at best, with the main two areas located just inside the South gate. Even though each area was located under a large stand of Cottonwood trees, there was very little room and cover for each site, but 160 of the almost 300 sites in the park do have hookups available for trailers and RVs.
With a slight wind gust, the Cottonwoods would shed some of its cottony leaves and, if it were not well above 90 degrees, you’d almost swear it was snowing.
The parks in Utah have been a fabulous experience, each one unusual and always different from the last.

First the Mormons, then the Mojave
After a wonderful meal and visit with my hosts, Tom and Linda, I was early to bed. The next morning, I hit the road before lunch, with my interim destination Sin City, Las Vegas, 120 miles-or-so to the southwest, sandwiched between stops at the Valley of Fire and the Hoover Dam.
Upon my return, my paramount concern was to get the truck out of the shop and back on the road.

Mormon Temple in St. George.

After some questions involving the overdrive override switch for the truck transmission, I settled all debts in St. George, Utah and hit the highway, heading west.
You see, the override switch was the culprit in the transmission troubles, having burned out long ago and taken the dashboard warning light with it. As explained in a simple fashion to me by Scott, the boss at the garage, the overdrive override governs the engine’s output by computer and its ruin led to the transmission’s failure and the eventual expense of much time and treasure for its replacement. Now I don’t know from overdrive, but Scott said, without the automatic override, the transmission would have failed eventually and, he added, “Towing a trailer, you never had a chance!”
There was a possibility that I would have to wait ‘til the first of the week to leave, as an override switch replacement couldn’t be located in town. Scott suggested I could get the trailer and travel over to Las Vegas and have a switch installed there, but I wouldn’t consider the transmission overhaul completed without the switch put in place here. I volunteered to drive over to Las Vegas in the rental car to retrieve one, but a switch was found locally, and all’s well that ends well.
I made time for the promised stop and visited the huge Mormon Temple in town, and spent several hours chatting up various folks there.
I wasn’t interested in changing religions, which did disappoint the missionaries, but instead, as I explained, I held a healthy curiosity about the faith, and its connection to the current news cycle, given Massachusetts governor Mitt Romney’s impending (2008) presidential quest, the controversy surrounding renegade fundamentalist bigamist leader Warren Jeffs, who then occupied a prime spot on the FBI’s 10 Most Wanted List and now a federal prison cell, and HBO’s then-new hit serial, Big Love, which, set in Utah, detailed the triumphs and travails of a bigamist family.
When I showed up at the temple, I was assigned a 20-something woman as my guide. She seemed to enjoy my irreverency, and my accent, for the most part, as I compared Mormon rituals to the ones I was brought up with as she showed me around the exhibits inside the visitors center (the temple itself is off-limits to non-believers). Oh, the laughs we had! Soon, we were joined by another 20-something female guide. Double the audience, double the laughs.
But, as I soon had to explain to them, Mother Nature and Father Time, perhaps my true gods, were calling and it was time for my to hit the road. I really enjoyed Utah and its residents. As a fellow I was to meet several weeks later in Oregon told me, "The Mormons? They won't steal from you. They won't stab you in the back." I can second that. After about three weeks in the state, I found Mormons on the whole to be industrious calm, welcoming folks, perhaps a tad too serious at times, but always pleasant and patient to a fault. No small feat, considering everywhere I went I asked a zillion pesky question in a presumedly foreign tongue.
I then drove the 85 miles north to Orderville,Utah once again traversing through Zion National Park, and rescued the trailer from where it sat for the past five days.

Painting hung at temple of St. George, Utah, circa 1870.

There didn’t seem to be anyone around the trailer park/thrift shop to inform when I smelled smoke as I was leaving. I then saw that the ranch-style fence fronting the property was full afire. I kicked down the burning fence and snuffed out the flames, ruining a new pair of sneakers in the process. Not to worry though, as one good turn deserves another: the woman who owned the property was very fair to me about a storage rate on Memorial Day, even though it was apparent I was desperate after the transmission turned to toast.
It was now around dinnertime, so I decided to avoid Zion’s steep winding canyons and instead drove north then west through the beautiful Cedar Breaks National Monument . This area contains fabulous cliffs and rivers among the abundance of cedars. It still had a decent snow pack and was full of white-tailed deer. The climb up through it offered the new transmission a stiff test, especially over Summit Mountain (elev. 9,633 feet). I could only get one radio station up here. It came in clear as a bell and, strangely, it was an Oldies signal from Odessa, Texas, between 900-1,000 miles away to the southeast as the crow flies.
I found an area there to coop in for the night and early the next morning was back on the highways, bound for Southern California. Down the shimmering ribbon of road I went, windows wide open, the breeze the only relief from the 110-115 degree temps. Through St. George again I went and then the fabulous Virgin River Gorge , a scenic 12-mile canyon leading to the Utah-Arizona Border. Out over the ribbon of road in the Mojave Desert I continued, bound for southern California. Driving all day, my destination Escandido, northeast of San Diego, I touched four states, first Utah, then Arizona and Nevada with finally the bulk of the miles coming in California...

Vegas was near and music was in the 114-degree air at Baker, a desert truckstop in the Mojave. Top notch Greek deli here with the world's best air conditioning!