Capitol Reef National Park

It was a long, wide-open road to Capitol Reef National Park. There were no landmarks indicating what direction we were driving in at any given time. It made us realize how heavily we relied on the Rocky Mountains as a reference for west back home. We finally began to see signs of life around Hanksville, where the road began to follow the Fremont River. There was an endless line of trees soaking up one of the only water sources around.

As we closed in on Capitol Reef, the landscape changed from a vast desert to dusty sand dunes and odd rock formations. The national park is a 100-mile Waterpocket Fold, basically a massive geologic wrinkle on the earth. And inside were a labyrinth of canyons, hoodoo towers, and ruins of early Mormon settlements.

Although fall was over in Colorado, it was just beginning in Utah. The bright yellow trees and lush vegetation were a welcomed sight after spending two hours looking at nothing but the horizon. We parked at the Hickman Bridge trailhead and hiked to the 133-foot natural bridge. There was also a viewpoint overlooking the canyon, where the yellow and orange trees perfectly outlined the river’s path.

The Fruita Historic District was a farming area with over 3,000 fruit trees planted by early settlers. It was an unexpected green oasis in the middle of the desert. The Gifford House was a small cottage that sold breads, pies and preserves made from the fruit of the surrounding orchards. David and I grabbed a few goodies before continuing on down the road.

Capitol Gorge was our favorite part of the park. A dirt road traveled through a flood-prone area over several large washes and into a narrow canyon. Where the road ended, a hiking trail began and allowed us to explore the rest of the canyon. The towering rock walls revealed ancient petroglyphs and an old Pioneer Register. Half a century ago, this was once the primary automobile route through the Waterpocket Fold, and early travelers recorded their passage by carving their names and the date, which go all the way back to 1871.

We hiked a steep spur to the Tanks. These giant water pockets hold water for much of the year, and are invaluable to the local wildlife. David and I didn’t want to leave this little spot; the sun was casting a warm light on the boulders above, and everything was so incredibly still and silent, we couldn’t help but just sit and appreciate the moment.

As the sun continued to set, it lit up the rocky ridge along the road. The yellow leaves of the orchards were glowing. Deer and wild turkeys were grazing in the neighboring pasture. It was one of those perfect evenings that reminded us why we love national parks so much. We pried ourselves away, and began our journey to Boulder, Utah while there was still sunlight left.