The Grandest Of The Grand
It was many years after my visit to Carlsbad Caverns before I again visited a national park. This does not mean that I did not spend time outdoors exploring the natural places around me. My grandfather had awakened my passion for nature, geology, and fossils and that has never gone away. My parents have also always made sure that we learned about the natural and historic places around us, so our road trip to our new home in Albany, Georgia meant that we stopped when time allowed. I remember visiting the Battleship Alabama and the submarine Drum when we went thru Mobile, for example. Once in Georgia, there were trips to places like the Kolomoki Indian Mounds, the Andersonville POW Camp from the Civil War (where my younger brother began his fascination with the War Between The States), Wakulla Springs in Florida, and the Okefenokee Swamp.
I particularly remember Okefenokee because of one event that was very exciting for me at that time. We arrived at the Okefenokee visitor's center a little later than my parent's had planned. The trip had taken longer than they thought and we got there close to closing time. I recall that we seemed to be the only people there at the time. As we walked toward the visitor's center, I quickly noticed what must have been a 12-foot alligator (to my child's eyes, it looked much larger) sitting on the grass just a little way off the sidewalk. My brother wanted to go sit on it, thinking it was just a display that was part of the park, but my mom quickly put a stop to that, reminding him that we did not know if it was real or not. She told him we would ask at the visitor's center and then, if it was just a stuffed alligator, maybe he could sit on it before we left.
We entered the visitor's center and my mom asked about the gator. 'Oh, that's Ol' Bill [not the name she gave, but I have long since forgotten it]', the lady at the desk told us. 'He likes to lay there sunning himself and watching all the visitors. We keep him well fed so he will not go after the visitors, but he is definitely alive and you want to stay away.' As if to emphasize what she told us, when we left to walk on the boardwalk in the swamp, the gator had wandered off. It was my first sight of a live gator and I was thrilled.
The walk through the swamp was fascinating. I remember reading a sign that said the water, in spite of a golden brownish color, was actually very pure and thinking I still would not want to drink it. We saw fish, frogs, birds, and snakes on our brief (at least I thought so) trip into the swamp. We were there too late for any of the boat trips into the swamp, but I loved walking on the boardwalk and experiencing a place that was so totally foreign to what I was used to in Utah.
While in Georgia, I was actively involved in Boy Scouts. I had a wonderful scout master named Whip Wilson who reminded me a lot of my grandfather. While a scout, we had a winter campout in Florida. Before you think, 'Oh, I'll bet that was really hard....winter in Florida', it was actually rather cool for that area that year and we did get rained on. To add to that, we also had to construct our own shelter. I did a pretty good job constructing it. It was dry except for one area where the water ran along the side and got part of my sleeping bag wet while I slept. That was a long, cold night, but I fixed the problem the next day.
Whip also set up a 50-mile hike along the AppalachianTrail in northern Georgia. That is a trip that I could spend an entire entry on (and maybe I will at some future date), but it was the trip of a lifetime for me back then. I remember floating down the Dahlonega river, sleeping under the stars on a massive granite outcrop at the top of a mountain and seeing the lights of Atlanta in the distance, running out of water on the first day of hiking due to it being a dry summer and springs drying up along the trail, as well as seeing the spring that is the source of the Chattahoochee River. It was a magnificent trip. I completed the 50 miles wishing I could hike the entire trail, but I was so exhausted that I slept for much of the ride back to Albany, as well as for a solid 18 hours once I was home.
I know that this is not about a specific national park so far, but I share this to show that my love of the natural world around me only seemed to increase as I got older. When I went to college at BYU, I spent a lot of time hiking the trails I could get to, including many trips up to the 'Y' on the mountainside above the campus, as well as up to the base of Bridal Veil Falls in Provo Canyon. It was exciting for me to be so close to the mountains.
I started college as a geology major, so there were several field trips to places near and far, exploring some of the geologic wonders Utah is so blessed with, but it was during my summer field course that I was re-introduced to the national parks. The course itself was only a couple of weeks, taught by Prof. Hamblin, but we visited both Zion National Park and Grand Canyon National Park, my first visits to both places.
We arrived in Zion rather late and only had time to set up our tents, eat, complete our evening assignments, and then grab some sleep. We had stopped at many places along our way there (the Virgin Anticline being the one I remember most) which had delayed our arrival. I remember it being very windy that night and not getting much sleep.
This first visit was rather short since we were ultimately headed to the Grand Canyon. After breakfast and breaking camp, we drove on the Mt Carmel highway that goes through the southeast corner of the park. This highway is remarkable for the tunnels that were cut directly through the sandstone. There are alcoves in places where past travelers were able to pull off and see amazing views of the canyon, but they are no longer accessible with today's vehicles and traffic. In fact, the tunnels are narrow enough that traffic can only go through one direction at a time and some large trailers are not even allowed through.
Once through the tunnels, you arrive in an area of Zion that is totally different from what you see in the canyon. Here are massive domes of rock weathered by wind, rain and snow. Here you find Checkerboard Mesa, a sandstone mountain with shapes like the squares on a checkerboard. I remember a couple of the guys in our group climbing up on the mesa to give us all a frame of reference for just how big the mesa itself was, as well as the patterns that gave it its name. It was much too short a visit for my taste. I remember being amazed by this small morsel of the grandeur that is Zion and knowing that I would definitely return to explore it in detail. I did not realize, at the time, how long it would be until I did.
The highlight of the course was Grand Canyon. I had seen many pictures of the Grand Canyon, but I don't think there is a photo on the planet that can prepare you for that first view from the canyon rim. It is truly breathtaking. Experiencing the sight of the canyon - the colors, the depth, the unbelievable scale - along with the feel of the sun on your face and the wind in your hair, knowing that you stand at the edge of something so stunning, so magnificent is an experience no photo can communicate. After you have experienced the canyon first hand, photos take on more depth and meaning because you have the experience to add another dimension to them.
My first view was from the North Rim. I have never experienced Grand Canyon from the South Rim. On one of my visits, a ranger told us he had just come from Disneyland, or what other people call the South Rim. If that is what the South Rim is like, I'll take the North Rim any day. To start, it is cooler because it is higher in elevation. It is also less crowded. The campground is large and there is plenty of lodging available, but it still feels more remote, more solitary than what I have heard about the South Rim. If at all possible, I highly suggest making your first visit to the North Rim.
We spent a couple of days there as a I recall, one hiking down on the Kiabab Trail so that we could see the canyon below the rim. There Dr. Hamblin pointed out many geologic features of the canyon, including the different formations that made up each layer as we hiked down thru it. It was extremely interesting and my brain was soon swimming with new geologic knowledge. I did not realize how quickly the trail was descending until we started back up. I was glad we were not trying to go any further down. One day, maybe.
The highlight of our stay at Grand Canyon came when we drove out to Vulcan's Throne. We traveled for what seemed like hours on a bumpy dirt road (we were in vans that the geology department had for these trips) to arrive at a very small, remote backcountry campground where we could see the formation. Vulcan's Throne is an area where volcanic activity actually dammed the canyon with a basalt plug about 73,000 years ago. The Colorado River only took about 3,000 years to erode that plug; quite the feat, especially if you take into account how hard basalt is.
We spent one night there, sleeping out under the stars near the canyon rim. During the day, we sketched profiles of the canyon, made simple drafts of geologic maps, and spent time marveling at the sights before us. One of my clearest memories of my time there was walking right up to the edge to stare down at the river thousands of feet below. Because there are rapids in this area as the result of the old volcanic activity, you could faintly hear the roar of the river over the sound of the wind. At one point, rain fell from some clouds hanging over the canyon, destined to evaporate before ever reaching the river below, but producing a spectacular rainbow as it fell. I remember feeling just fine standing there, looking over the precipice, until I looked up and saw a hawk of some kind flying out over the canyon. For some reason, that sight brought the reality of where I was at that moment to me very forcefully. I froze for a moment, and I remember thinking that if I fell, I could not soar like the hawk. I slowly backed away from the edge and resumed my observations from a safer distance.
I also remember how magnificent the night sky was. With no city lights to mar the view, the Milky Way stood out brilliantly, in detail I never seen before. I remember seeing the Milky Way as a kid, but had not seen it brightly in many years, and never with as much detail as that night. I found myself wishing I had a tripod for my camera (a new Fuji ST-X, fully manual 35MM SLR given to me by my grandmother as a gift right before I left on this trip) and some high speed film so I could try my hand and photographing what I saw. I had never used a 35MM camera prior to this trip, so I doubt they would have come out if I had tried. Fortunately, more than a few of the photos I took on the trip survive to this day, though I have never scanned them.
The next day we bid farewell to Grand Canyon, taking in a few additional spots of geologic interest as we returned to Provo. Much of my time on that trip was spent listening to Dr. Hamblin, taking notes, and trying to digest the wealth of knowledge he was sharing with us, but it did not detract from the sheer beauty I found all around me. If anything, my appreciation for what I was seeing was that much richer, that much deeper than if I had just ventured there alone. I may not have graduated with a degree in geology, but because of that field course, I try to learn as much about the places I visit, with an emphasis on the geology, because I know that the visit then takes on more depth and becomes that much more memorable.
I particularly remember Okefenokee because of one event that was very exciting for me at that time. We arrived at the Okefenokee visitor's center a little later than my parent's had planned. The trip had taken longer than they thought and we got there close to closing time. I recall that we seemed to be the only people there at the time. As we walked toward the visitor's center, I quickly noticed what must have been a 12-foot alligator (to my child's eyes, it looked much larger) sitting on the grass just a little way off the sidewalk. My brother wanted to go sit on it, thinking it was just a display that was part of the park, but my mom quickly put a stop to that, reminding him that we did not know if it was real or not. She told him we would ask at the visitor's center and then, if it was just a stuffed alligator, maybe he could sit on it before we left.
We entered the visitor's center and my mom asked about the gator. 'Oh, that's Ol' Bill [not the name she gave, but I have long since forgotten it]', the lady at the desk told us. 'He likes to lay there sunning himself and watching all the visitors. We keep him well fed so he will not go after the visitors, but he is definitely alive and you want to stay away.' As if to emphasize what she told us, when we left to walk on the boardwalk in the swamp, the gator had wandered off. It was my first sight of a live gator and I was thrilled.
The walk through the swamp was fascinating. I remember reading a sign that said the water, in spite of a golden brownish color, was actually very pure and thinking I still would not want to drink it. We saw fish, frogs, birds, and snakes on our brief (at least I thought so) trip into the swamp. We were there too late for any of the boat trips into the swamp, but I loved walking on the boardwalk and experiencing a place that was so totally foreign to what I was used to in Utah.
While in Georgia, I was actively involved in Boy Scouts. I had a wonderful scout master named Whip Wilson who reminded me a lot of my grandfather. While a scout, we had a winter campout in Florida. Before you think, 'Oh, I'll bet that was really hard....winter in Florida', it was actually rather cool for that area that year and we did get rained on. To add to that, we also had to construct our own shelter. I did a pretty good job constructing it. It was dry except for one area where the water ran along the side and got part of my sleeping bag wet while I slept. That was a long, cold night, but I fixed the problem the next day.
Whip also set up a 50-mile hike along the AppalachianTrail in northern Georgia. That is a trip that I could spend an entire entry on (and maybe I will at some future date), but it was the trip of a lifetime for me back then. I remember floating down the Dahlonega river, sleeping under the stars on a massive granite outcrop at the top of a mountain and seeing the lights of Atlanta in the distance, running out of water on the first day of hiking due to it being a dry summer and springs drying up along the trail, as well as seeing the spring that is the source of the Chattahoochee River. It was a magnificent trip. I completed the 50 miles wishing I could hike the entire trail, but I was so exhausted that I slept for much of the ride back to Albany, as well as for a solid 18 hours once I was home.
I know that this is not about a specific national park so far, but I share this to show that my love of the natural world around me only seemed to increase as I got older. When I went to college at BYU, I spent a lot of time hiking the trails I could get to, including many trips up to the 'Y' on the mountainside above the campus, as well as up to the base of Bridal Veil Falls in Provo Canyon. It was exciting for me to be so close to the mountains.
I started college as a geology major, so there were several field trips to places near and far, exploring some of the geologic wonders Utah is so blessed with, but it was during my summer field course that I was re-introduced to the national parks. The course itself was only a couple of weeks, taught by Prof. Hamblin, but we visited both Zion National Park and Grand Canyon National Park, my first visits to both places.
We arrived in Zion rather late and only had time to set up our tents, eat, complete our evening assignments, and then grab some sleep. We had stopped at many places along our way there (the Virgin Anticline being the one I remember most) which had delayed our arrival. I remember it being very windy that night and not getting much sleep.
This first visit was rather short since we were ultimately headed to the Grand Canyon. After breakfast and breaking camp, we drove on the Mt Carmel highway that goes through the southeast corner of the park. This highway is remarkable for the tunnels that were cut directly through the sandstone. There are alcoves in places where past travelers were able to pull off and see amazing views of the canyon, but they are no longer accessible with today's vehicles and traffic. In fact, the tunnels are narrow enough that traffic can only go through one direction at a time and some large trailers are not even allowed through.
Once through the tunnels, you arrive in an area of Zion that is totally different from what you see in the canyon. Here are massive domes of rock weathered by wind, rain and snow. Here you find Checkerboard Mesa, a sandstone mountain with shapes like the squares on a checkerboard. I remember a couple of the guys in our group climbing up on the mesa to give us all a frame of reference for just how big the mesa itself was, as well as the patterns that gave it its name. It was much too short a visit for my taste. I remember being amazed by this small morsel of the grandeur that is Zion and knowing that I would definitely return to explore it in detail. I did not realize, at the time, how long it would be until I did.
The highlight of the course was Grand Canyon. I had seen many pictures of the Grand Canyon, but I don't think there is a photo on the planet that can prepare you for that first view from the canyon rim. It is truly breathtaking. Experiencing the sight of the canyon - the colors, the depth, the unbelievable scale - along with the feel of the sun on your face and the wind in your hair, knowing that you stand at the edge of something so stunning, so magnificent is an experience no photo can communicate. After you have experienced the canyon first hand, photos take on more depth and meaning because you have the experience to add another dimension to them.
My first view was from the North Rim. I have never experienced Grand Canyon from the South Rim. On one of my visits, a ranger told us he had just come from Disneyland, or what other people call the South Rim. If that is what the South Rim is like, I'll take the North Rim any day. To start, it is cooler because it is higher in elevation. It is also less crowded. The campground is large and there is plenty of lodging available, but it still feels more remote, more solitary than what I have heard about the South Rim. If at all possible, I highly suggest making your first visit to the North Rim.
We spent a couple of days there as a I recall, one hiking down on the Kiabab Trail so that we could see the canyon below the rim. There Dr. Hamblin pointed out many geologic features of the canyon, including the different formations that made up each layer as we hiked down thru it. It was extremely interesting and my brain was soon swimming with new geologic knowledge. I did not realize how quickly the trail was descending until we started back up. I was glad we were not trying to go any further down. One day, maybe.
The highlight of our stay at Grand Canyon came when we drove out to Vulcan's Throne. We traveled for what seemed like hours on a bumpy dirt road (we were in vans that the geology department had for these trips) to arrive at a very small, remote backcountry campground where we could see the formation. Vulcan's Throne is an area where volcanic activity actually dammed the canyon with a basalt plug about 73,000 years ago. The Colorado River only took about 3,000 years to erode that plug; quite the feat, especially if you take into account how hard basalt is.
We spent one night there, sleeping out under the stars near the canyon rim. During the day, we sketched profiles of the canyon, made simple drafts of geologic maps, and spent time marveling at the sights before us. One of my clearest memories of my time there was walking right up to the edge to stare down at the river thousands of feet below. Because there are rapids in this area as the result of the old volcanic activity, you could faintly hear the roar of the river over the sound of the wind. At one point, rain fell from some clouds hanging over the canyon, destined to evaporate before ever reaching the river below, but producing a spectacular rainbow as it fell. I remember feeling just fine standing there, looking over the precipice, until I looked up and saw a hawk of some kind flying out over the canyon. For some reason, that sight brought the reality of where I was at that moment to me very forcefully. I froze for a moment, and I remember thinking that if I fell, I could not soar like the hawk. I slowly backed away from the edge and resumed my observations from a safer distance.
I also remember how magnificent the night sky was. With no city lights to mar the view, the Milky Way stood out brilliantly, in detail I never seen before. I remember seeing the Milky Way as a kid, but had not seen it brightly in many years, and never with as much detail as that night. I found myself wishing I had a tripod for my camera (a new Fuji ST-X, fully manual 35MM SLR given to me by my grandmother as a gift right before I left on this trip) and some high speed film so I could try my hand and photographing what I saw. I had never used a 35MM camera prior to this trip, so I doubt they would have come out if I had tried. Fortunately, more than a few of the photos I took on the trip survive to this day, though I have never scanned them.
The next day we bid farewell to Grand Canyon, taking in a few additional spots of geologic interest as we returned to Provo. Much of my time on that trip was spent listening to Dr. Hamblin, taking notes, and trying to digest the wealth of knowledge he was sharing with us, but it did not detract from the sheer beauty I found all around me. If anything, my appreciation for what I was seeing was that much richer, that much deeper than if I had just ventured there alone. I may not have graduated with a degree in geology, but because of that field course, I try to learn as much about the places I visit, with an emphasis on the geology, because I know that the visit then takes on more depth and becomes that much more memorable.
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