Desert Daze - A Southwest Adventure (XIV)

Part Fourteen: Muley Magic – The Best Sunset and Sunrise Views Money Can’t Buy

(First time reading this story? Scroll down to start with Part One)

As I watch the setting sun cast long shadows across the Valley of the Gods below, I wonder, what is this fascination with naming places after death, god, hell and the devil? Valley of the Gods. Devil’s Playground. Hell’s Backbone. Devil’s Postpile. Hell Hollow. Death Hollow. God’s Castle Spires. Death Valley. Kill Devil Hills. Devil’s Tower. Sleeping God Canyon. Hell’s Canyon. Hell’s Kitchen. Devil’s Run. I could go on…

But who cares anyway why? The view from here is simply incredible no matter what you call the landscape features. The sun sets the rims of the San Juan River Canyon, curling off into the distance like a giant, black snake across the plain, on fire, highlighting the contrast between the deep, dusky canyon and the plateau above. In this light, the canyon floor, dimly seen, somehow doesn’t seem all that far away; I feel like I could almost float gently down into it like a feather; again, the canyon beckons me. What glorious mysteries are hiding down in its depths? Basking in this golden sunset light, drinking in the awesome panorama spread out before me, I feel as if I am dreaming the best possible dream but am somehow still awake. Life is but a dream?

Once again, I have another spectacular place all to myself. How lucky am I? The New York Times called Southern Utah ‘America’s Outback’ and, while it’s certainly no Australia, it’s about as remote as you can get in the lower 48 - that’s one of the reasons I love it so. I have thought numerous times about moving here permanently, I could hike a different trail every day for the rest of my life and probably never run out. However, when seriously considered, the annoying problem of how to make a living here in ‘America’s Outback’ always rears its ugly head.

Wandering about Muley Point in the evening glow, I look for interesting photographic opportunities. I find a puddle that, if I lay down next to it on the ground, captures the reflection of a bush with the sunset glow behind it.

Neat. Again, I reflect on how simple life is during an adventure like this. My biggest concerns are typically: What should I shoot (photograph)? Where should I head next? Do I have enough food for the next few days? Water? Wine? Gas? I must figure out how to sneak away on adventures like this more often…

Rant: The sunset sky is crisscrossed (and therefore ruined from a nature photographer’s point of view) by dozens on contrails. At this time of night I notice that the majority of these planes are traveling west to east, I surmise it’s mostly end-of-day business travelers returning home from Los Angeles and Las Vegas. Here I am in the remotest of remote spots and I can’t escape ‘syphilization’ as Edward Abbey liked to call it. You may say I am a hypocrite because I flew out here, but I fly at most once or twice a year, while business travelers think nothing of hopping on a plane often, sometimes once or twice a week. With modern technology at their service, why can’t they video or phone conference more often instead of flying and putting unnecessary CO2 into our already besieged atmosphere? (Not to mention ruining the sky for my pictures, of course.) OK, rant over.

Waking up after yet another frigid night in Hotel Truck, I bundle up and go outside into the chill air to watch the golden sunrise slowly creep across the vast plain and canyon spread out before me. Watching this spectacle, I am a very happy, if not more than just a bit chilly, camper this morning.

Next: Beyond the Back of the Beyond – From Muley to Powell