Sun Worship - II

7/30/2019 Sun Worship - II

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Sun Worship - II

It was a long drive from Santa Monica to Springdale; from the Californian coast, throughthe deserts of Nevada to the canyons of Utah. LA’s smoke and aggression graduallycleared and gave way to a flat featureless expanse as the road threaded through the

Mojave Desert, skirting Death Valley and the Valley of Fire. Vast, unpeopled, parchedlands populatedonly be sagebrushand cacti, thehighway was a stripof tar from Point Ato Point B withnothing in between.Even naming thenondescript roadso c c a s i o n a l l y

branching off fromthe freeway musthave seemed futile,which gave rise tonames l ike the‘Zzyzx Road’. Carsz ipped pas t i nplumes of dust,d i s r e g a r d i n gspeed-limits, franticto get away from

road-s igns tha tr e c o m m e n d e dshutting off air conditioners to prevent over-heating. In the middle of this emptiness, likea mirage, rose Point B; the casinos and sky-high excesses of sin-city, Las Vegas.

With Vegas in my dust I eventually reached the canyon-lands. The road snaked aroundspectacular towering rust-red and tan mesas of Navajo sandstone. Tracing the twistsand turns of the Virgin river I finally reached Springdale, and rolled into the BumbleberryInn as the sun sank behind the jagged teeth of the surrounding bluffs. Situated at theeast entrance of the Zion National Park, I stayed thenight in the shadow of these sandstone monoliths.

The next morning I sampled it’s famed Bumbleberrypie, made of a secret mix of blueberries,blackberries, raspberries and strawberries at its wild-west themed restaurant Wildcat Willies. A woodencabin decorated with guns, cowboy photos, spursand deer-heads, it served a wholesome breakfast ofoats and coffee to fuel my hikes for the day.



A drive down the aptly named Scenic Canyon Drive got me to the Grotto parking, whichI found to be pscked. Angel’s Landing is the most popular day-hike in Zion, rated bymany to be one of the most scenic day-hikes in the US, and a steady trail of peoplecrawled like ants up the slope from the Grotto, near the Virgin River, to the pinnacle ofAngel’s Landing at nearly 1500 feet. The pioneer Fredrick Fisher who first explored it

had exclaimed that “only an Angel could land here” and the name stuck.

The trail began at a bridgecrossing a fork of the VirginRiver and then shadowed theriver through sparse riparianwoodlands.

Then, over a series of switchbacks the paved road steadily climbed the mountain in thegrowing heat, affording spectacular views of the river valley.

Ducking out of the sunand through the cool‘Refrigerator Canyon’ Iscaled the mountain upto the outcropping knownas the Scout’s Lookout.A couple of teenagers onthe way risked life andlimb dancing on the trunkof a fallen tree across agulch, all for a Facebook-photo, while parents heldon to their kids ever moretightly with sweaty palms.



I rested at the edge of the Lookout with a sheer drop far down to the river valley below.

The last half-mile of the trail is interesting. Up a narrow steep ridge called the Hog’sBack with an 800 foot drop on side and a 1200 foot drop on the other, this stretch hadclaimed six lives since it opened. With chains and steps cut into the rock it isn’t half as

risky as advertised but is certainly not a trail to be taken lightly either.



A ranger stationed at the Lookout kept aneye on the steady trickle of peopleattempting the sharp ridge to the Landing.

Gazing down at a 360-degree bird’s eyeview of the entire park, I rested in theshade of a tree munching on bread,cheese and a slice of Bumbleberry pie.

Life was good.



Not satisfied with the hike and with several hours of daylight still at hand, I next went upthe short hike to the Emerald pools.

Starting near the river, the gentle trail lead through the spray of waterfalls up to smallgreenish pools that mirrored the imposing cliffs all around.



With the setting sun, I headed down to the Watchman Campground, next to the Visitor’scenter and pitched my tent for thenight in the gathering dusk. Apop u l a r cam pgr oun d , t hecampsites are still fairly spaced

apart so that it never really gotnoisy. The only minus was thatt he on l y fi rep l ace was acommunal pit monopolized by agroup of college kids out on theirspring-break. Well... I had had along day and did want to catchthe next sunrise so I scoffed anearly dinner called it a day.

The next morning I awoke early to

drive up the Zion-Mount Carmelhighway in the greying dawn,through a mile-long tunnelborrowed into the mountainside and up to the Canyon Overlook trail. A craggy trailthrough rugged rust-red boulders led up from the road to the Overlook.



The sun rising from behind the sandstone cragspainted the opposite mountains in gold in stages,from the peaks gradually down to the canyon basinfar below. The expansive view from the topencompassed all of the vast Kolob Canyons.

Settled by the Mormon farmers in the mid-1800s,

‘Kolob’ is the Mormon word for the heavenly placenearest to the residence of God.



Back in camp, I packed up my tent and drove out of the park to a cafe near theentrance. Over a lengthy breakfast I planned the rest of the day. While I wasconsidering hiking the hidden canyons, the park ranger I had chatted with seemed tostrongly recommend the Valley of Fire.Unfortunately, I had to be back in

Vegas by nightfall and decided in favorof the valley.

I drove down the Zion scenic drive onelast time, up to Weeping rock wherewater seeped out of the massive rockmonolith and gave rise to a micro-ecosystem of ferns and algae verydifferent from the surrounding desert.The park in fact has four distinct eco-systems, lying as it does at the

junction of the Colorado Plateau, theGreat Basin and the Mojave Desert.As a result, flora and fauna adapted tovery different living zones live in closeproximity in this park.

I made a few more stops by the river to wet my feet and gaze at the three patriarchsbelow one last time before setting off for the Valley of Fire.



It was curious that the first thing I saw when I switched on the telly at Bumbleberry Innwas this show about drama-in-real-life situations. This one followed the tale of threew o m e n w h ofollowed their GPSlike sheep through

the Valley of Deathand got hopelesslylost. Following myGPS I did end upwith a few wrongturns, but eventuallyr e a c h e d t h efantastically paintedrocks of Valley ofFire. These brilliantformations of rust

red and pale whiteare in fact fossilizedsand dunes thathave over the agesh a r d e n e d i n t osandstone.

I was just in time for a tour of the petroglyphs etched out in the varnish of the monolithsat Mouse Tank. They told various tales of the Ansazi tribes that had once called livedthere. Hunts of big horned sheep and deer by hunters using atlatls to throw bonedarts(say ‘atlatl’ three times), migrations, maps, symbols showing the oneness of manand nature and remarkably a supernova that exploded in 1054, which also incidentallyshows up in ancient Chinese and Japanese art of the time.



A panorama of red and white sandstone at the Rainbow Vista:

As usual, in all my rushing about I had forgotten to eat and was starving by the time Ireached White Domes which fortunately had picnic tables to spread out my lunch...more bread and cheese, spiced

peanuts and dry-fruits. Animalsthat roved around me had evolvedtheir own unique adaptations tofind food and shelter. Kangaroorats that derived water entirelyfrom their food, sidewinder snakesthat moved by writhing over thescorching sands to prevent burns,ravens that survived by their witsand on the wide diversity of theirdiet, jackrabbits that thrived by the

sheer alarming rate at which theyreproduced, horny-toad lizardsthat squeezed into cracks whenpursued and bloated up to makedislodgment impossible. Theyalso had this habit of shooting blood from their eyes to disorient predators! Just beneaththis apparent calm of the imposing, venerable rocks was a vibrant teeming eco-systemspecifically adapted to life in this valley of fire.



After lunch I went on a short hike to the Firewave, a fantastic swirl of red and whitesandstone that resembled a scoop of chocolate-vanilla softie.

These ethereal rock formations have an other-worldly feel to it and the spiritual Indiansrightly revered them as being holy. Nowadays they form a backdrop for several Vegasweddings and looking into the future, these dunes near Lake Mead were the setting forthe death of Kirk and the passing of the baton to the far more able Captain Picard.



With the sun nearing the horizon, I took in a few more of the strange rock formations atSeven Sisters, where a glitzy wedding photo session was in progress and then up to theAtlatl rock to view some more of the petroglyphs and lastly to the weird Arch rock.

Just fifty miles north of that ultimate playground forgrownups, this valley’s spartan beauty cloaked in aspiritual silence should be noted way up there onevery visitors list of things to see in wild Vegas.



With an hour gained in crossing time-zones, I had been hiking or driving for more thandawn to dusk and was exhausted by the time I pulled into a Super8 close to the VegasStrip.

I had time only for a bath and a change of clothes (a necessity after hiking two days in

the sun without a wash) before heading out for the Cirque Du Soleil show, ‘Mystere’.This famed Canadian company with its dramatic mix of circus art and streetentertainment produces some of the finest shows in Vegas. I couldn’t take my camerawith me to the show so here’s some snaps gleaned off the net.

The show was a superlative performance by Olympic gymnasts pushing the limits of thehuman body in fantastic costumes threaded together by a thin, chaotic storyline and anannoying slapstick clown.



Heres some google-images of sights seen strolling down the strip after the show. TheSirens of Treasure Island, a street-performance by hot dancers on ships moored inponds outside the casino hosting Mystere.

In the middle of an arid desert, the vast lakes and fantastic fountains and cascades ofthe Bellagio and Mirage casinos.

This trip had been a study in contrasts. From uninhabited pristine blue islands in the

Pacific Ocean, to the colourful touristy Santa Monica. From the sleazy street-smarts ofVenice beach to the filthily-rich upper-crust of Hollywood to the expansive upliftingpanoramas of the Zion canyons. From sublime silences and the fantastic naturalformations in the Valley of Fire to the vibrant night-life and extravagant casinos ofVegas. This swinging pendulum had makes each extreme seem more joyous and vividlymemorable.

It was, in short, a spring break well-spent.

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Sun Worship - II