Hoodoo Gurus and other Rock Stars

After hovering over all non-essential surfaces in the sketch hotel (including the shower), foregoing any direct contact, we just wanted out. (After free breakfast of course.) Bryce was merely obligatory at this point so we could check it, reset and move on.

If you’re looking for the Disneyland of Utah’s national parks, look no further than Bryce Canyon. Except that Bryce isn’t overloaded with people trying to get their princess on and you likely won’t be spending $27 on a burger in the super kitch town. (I don’t know. I haven’t been to Disney. Is that too low?) It is apparently also for those who don’t observe park visitor etiquette. We’ve already learned that carving your idiotic legacy into park property is normal here. And apparently goes unnoticed. Everywhere else we’ve been, people have been respectful of each other, acknowledging the art of the photo and allowing the 3-5 seconds out of their life to wait for the someone to click. Nope! Not in Bryce. Gun it and run right through it. Time is money baby!

Everyone was saying, “Bryce is the biggest bang for your buck.” Here’s why. You can get there late (we did), not have to deal with an overflow of people (we didn’t), choose a short hike (we did), get a good “taste” of the park (we did), and get in and out. Nobody gets hurt. Amazingly, including me. No injury of significance. You can also drive to all the scenic overlooks in 20-30 minutes and call it good.

It’s sort of what I imagine Grand Canyon light would be. A descent to the canyon floor and a knowing dread of hiking back out. We chose Queens Garden, Navaho Loop, and Wall Street. We should have chosen Wall Street, Navaho Loop, and Queens Garden. A beautiful hike topped off with an excruciating, lung collapsing experience of my nemesis, the switchback. Brutal. But sort of amazing. Would you like to know how many switchbacks? About 832. I can’t actually tell you because no one before us has documented this important factoid for future hikers. Past visitors don’t care about future hikers. I do. It’s a bunch of switchbacks climbing up and out 600 feet.

So once again, Jenny, men carrying large children on their backs, war veterans with fewer limbs than I, and a desert tortoise all passed me as I clung to my chest, Fred Sanford “I’m coming Elizabeth” style. The moral of the story is start with Wall Street going down, just like the stock market and the future of the country. You won’t regret it.

WARNING: Stop reading now unless you want to hear about the unspoken metaphor that makes this park uncomfortable.

Hoodoos. Ok. This place is, if nothing else, very phallic. No one talks about it, but it’s sort of hard to miss. (Yes Vicki. I’m saying it to myself.) How any parent can get through the park without their 12 year old son doubled over in laughter for half the day is beyond me. And even if you recognize it and want to avoid it in photos, well, it’s near impossible.

Two thumbs up for Bryce if you want a quickie. (See? Impossible to not go there.)

INJURY REPORT: I am augmenting the injury of chaffed thighs and upgrading it to sunburned and chaffed thighs. How does someone with absolutely no thigh gap sunburn the insides of their thighs? It hurts. And me with no aloe vera.

BRUISE UPDATE: It’s finally getting lighter! But I still can’t lie on that specific pat of my back. Sure I’ll get that mole checked out. The zipper action down the side of my cheek is apparently my swimsuit bottom. Guess I’m retaining water too!