Canyonlands
National Park, Utah
March 23, 2022
by Kes the Photobean
The name Canyonlands is pretty self explanatory. These lands are, indeed, riddled with deeply cut canyons, buttes, and mesas. A first-time visitor may look across miles of these trenches and think something is wrong with their eyes. Worry not, because this is a common feeling. The brain simply struggles to comprehend the depth and breadth of this land.
I’ve never witnessed a landscape that is easier to see the more it’s covered up.
Who is this master sculptor of this land? I’m glad you asked.
Much like any other canyon, rivers have the power to carve through rocks like butter . . . given enough time. Canyonlands is special because not one, but two rivers shape this land. The Green River and Colorado River have been tirelessly working together for millions of years. Eventually these waters meet, separating the park into four distinct districts: Island in the Sky, the Maze, the Needles, and the rivers themselves.
Over 1,000 feet below the viewpoints at Island in the Sky lay the White Rim, a shelf of white sandstone that stands another 1,000 feet above the rivers. A dirt road follows the rim for 100 miles, submerging the visitor into this breathtaking land of canyons.
For three days, we drove along this road.
I couldn’t be happier to finally share these experiences with you.
White Rim Road
Sam and I have been looking forward to driving along White Rim Road ever since our first visit to Canyonlands. At the time, we were busy exploring the Island in the Sky district. Gazing down from the viewpoints, we were always so intrigued by that little road on the shelf.
The day we bought our permits, we were in a Kentucky waiting room. That morning, we had spent nearly three hours trying to change the oil on the Jeep for the first time. When we finally found someone who could do the oil change, we had only minutes to make our permit reservation. I’m not sure if you’re aware of how competitive these permits can be, so let me paint the picture. At 10 o’clock on the dot we hit the submit button. Five minutes later, the campsites we chose were entirely booked for the entire season.
Shockingly, we were one of the few people who booked exactly what we wanted! When we found out, nothing could wipe the smiles off our faces. Not even the $200 oil change. Flash forward four months later and there we were, looking down at the switchbacks that would take us on the ride of a lifetime.
I cannot express how stressful it was to be sitting in the passenger seat and see nothing but empty air to the left of the Jeep.
As I would soon learn, that feeling of unease would only grow the longer we drove. As you can imagine, this wasn’t the best time to discover my fear of heights. Just you wait and see what we had to go through.
The early morning light made taking photos surprisingly challenging, but I didn’t let that stop me. In fact, I really don’t want to share the number of photos I wound up taking during those three days. Let’s just say that what you’re seeing is the tip of the iceberg, and Editor Kes was given way too much work. Once again.
Gooseneck Overlook gave an incredible view of the Colorado River making a hairpin turn. Can you imagine what gave the overlook its name?
Because I have to shrink the massive file size of my panoramas, I’m also adding two extra photos showing the Colorado’s curves. Moab lies just beyond the road shown on the left.
How is it that this seemingly calm river carved itself so deep into the rock? Sure, I understand the theory and geology. But to stand atop the cliffs and actually witness this powerful being was a spiritual experience.
Sam and I made a playlist of music devoted to these next few days. So, for the next handful of hours, all we did was drive and listen and watch the landscape unfold. Looking out the window, I often found myself pondering. From the meaning of life to investigating the rock strata, there were many things to marvel at. For the most part, though, I just enjoyed the ride.
Goosenecks are formed due to a difference in rock strata composition. The top capstone is resistant to erosion and protects the softer, underlying layer. This particular gooseneck almost seems to stand watch above the chaotic land below.
Lunch was a welcome break. Frankly, I can’t imagine taking anything other than the Teardrop on a road like this. Nothing beats making a sandwich in an outdoor kitchen with views like these.
Do you think you could drive this close to the edge? Full transparency: I didn’t want to, but there’s really no stopping a determined Sam. My only solace is that this photo was entirely worth it.
After an exciting morning full of lip synching, vertigo, and more than a few moments of serious off-roading, we finally made it to our first campsite: White Crack. As we pulled up and waited for last night’s bikepackers to finish lunch, I asked Sam “Why is it called that?”
“I don’t know. I guess we’ll find out,” he shrugged.
As it turns out, White Crack was probably named for the weathered cracks that separated these huge slabs of stone. A short hike barely 200 yards from the Teardrop lead us to the edge of these slabs.
The view looking back at camp was only mildly terrifying.
A family stopped by and had fun taking in the sights. Sam and I sat back and enjoyed people watching, observing the way others experience this place.
Of course, Sam insisted I take a few glamor shots of the Jeep. How do you think I did?
We made that hike a couple of times that day. Once, was when we first got into camp. The second was later in the day, timed perfectly to watch the sun set between the canyons. Unfortunately, I didn’t bring my camera to either trip.
I watched the setting sun perfectly illuminate the distant river. There, nestled in the horizon, lay another bend in the Colorado River. The island in the middle of that bend shone pink in the fading light. Wow.
I cannot believe I forgot my camera.
The next morning’s sun highlighted the dusty air, collecting in the Colorado’s bend. Although I left my camera the previous night, I made sure to make up for lost time.
Waking up into the second day was bittersweet. I so enjoyed eating breakfast while admiring my surroundings, but only had a few hours left before we needed to move on. To make the most of our time left, we left on a hike from camp. Our hike was never very sketchy, but I was painfully aware of where the edge was at all times. I’ve learned to trust Sam around these precarious ledges . . . begrudgingly.
I’d like to note that Sam and I wander all the time, which means we always leave camp with more water than we need and a rough plan. The desert can be unforgiving, even during early spring.
Oh, and most importantly, we paid close attention to our feet. Healthy desert ecosystems rely on these micro biotic soil crusts that live in the dirt. Without them, plants can’t grow and the soil blows away. One step off the rocks, and we kill decades of hard work!
The road between this campsite and the next was quite long and winding. With a sigh, we packed up and said goodbye to this splendid place. Funny enough, it’s hard to feel sad when the path ahead is so exciting.
Who knew that path would also be so dang rough.
Anza-Borrego really put off-roading into perspective for me. No matter the condition of the road, as long as we aren’t scaling boulders, I was happy.
I am not kidding when I say I was shocked at how well the Teardrop took the harsh drive. She leapt into the air more than a few times, yet bore no marks to prove it. What a tough little thing.
What can I say, the second day’s drive was just as phenomenal as the first.
I think my favorite part, aside from bangin’ tunes, was capturing the Teardrop in so many beautiful settings. Say what you will, but this is what she was made for. Desert dwelling.
Welcome to our second campsite! The long drive certainly pooped us out. After all, how much beauty can one bean take?
Zooming out reveals the Green River peeking out from the bottom of the canyon. From here, the Teardrop and Jeep blend into the landscape so well, it's hard to even make them out.
Our living room may always change, but the routine always stays the same. Park, set up, investigate camp, eat. Admittedly, some living rooms are more impressive than others.
Sam once again insisted we walk near the edge. Worse yet, he begged me to let him look over said edge. Hell no, I thought . . . but we eventually made a compromise.
Our third day was also our last. You would, understandably, think we woke up sad. And, sure, I think there was a sprinkle of that. But it was 4 AM and we had a schedule to keep.
You see, later that day, we were going to finally meet up with Sam’s parents and their Teardrop. Two months earlier, an ice storm canceled our initial plans to camp at Big Bend. We all decided to meet up in Moab to make up for the lost trip. But they were going to get into town early that afternoon, and we still had one item to tick off our White Rim Road bucket list: one last hike.
We left Candlestick Campground right as the sun began to peek above the mesas. Can you guess what gave the campsite its name?
I’m not sure how it happened, but we eventually found ourselves driving beside the river instead of above it. Soon enough, we’d be following it past the bounds of the national park. Outside of the canyons and into the rest of the world.
The road leading up to our last hike only got rougher. I didn’t mind at all. In fact, for some odd reason, I find it really fun to off-road while towing the Teardrop. I started to think of her as my little road buddy, bouncing behind me with joy. Side note: I love that we can still see Candlestick Tower above the horizon.
Sam and I set out on this hike with nothing less than pure determination. In order to get into Moab on time, we had to hike as fast as possible. This may seem like a waste of a good hike, but I was actually excited to keep a speedy pace.
The trail wounds its way along the spine of this temple, or mesa surrounded by river, and ended with a small scramble. At the top lay the remnants of an ancient society. Ancestral Puebloans lived in these canyons nearly 700 years ago, yet little else is known about these particular structures.
Well, actually, let me rephrase that. A quick Google search told me nothing other than what old settlers named the stone tower: Fort Bottom.
Upon first glance, I couldn’t help but agree with the settlers. Why else would you choose this location, other than to make a lookout tower? But given what I’ve learned about the Ancestral Puebloans, I’d say this had something to do with their crops. After all, the land beneath this mini-mesa had the potential to give a lot of life.
Can you spot Fort Bottom from here?
We followed the river until we finally passed the edge of Canyonlands National Park. That sadness we talked about earlier? Well, I’ll admit I felt a little bit of it as we left this magical place. There is still so much I want to explore. I’m sure I could spend a lifetime visiting and never regret a single second. But the show must go on, and the sadness left as quickly as it came.
Besides, I was too excited to finally get to camp with Sam’s parents and Teardrop 1.0.
Bonus Photo: Look at this fun geology find! A section of ripples from ancient dunes were recorded in this small bit of stone. Isn’t that so cool?
I hope you enjoyed this look into one of my absolute favorite moments of the trip so far.
But wait! There's more.
As I was editing the photos for this week's post, Sam was busy editing something of his own. He worked hard to make an awesome video, which summarizes our time through his eyes on White Rim Road. So, without further ado, go ahead and press play!
Teardrop Rendezvous
by Sam the Other Bean
I wasn’t too bummed about leaving Canyonlands because that same day, only a few hours after our tires hit the pavement, we were scheduled to meet up with my parents in Moab. Finally we were going to have the Teardrop rendezvous I had dreamed so much about ever since breaking ground on the Teardrop 2.0!
When the rendezvous in Big Bend fell through due to weather, it felt like I had just been punched in the gut. Meeting up with my parents in Teardrop 1.0 was going to be one of the major milestones of the gap year, and the thought of not achieving that goal was devastating. At the time all I could do was suck it up and hope we could work something out in the future.
Well, little did I know that things would work out as well as they did in Moab. Not only was the weather set to be perfect, but Moab was also one of those places I had passed through so many times with Mom (on our way to pick up Kes from college every summer, actually) and that we both showed so much interest in, but had never actually visited together. Combine that with Dad’s love for Jeeping and my and Kes’s camping know-how, and you have the formula for a perfect weekend.
Driving up to the grocery store parking lot and seeing my parents sitting there with the Teardrop was like being home again. It had only been a few months since I’d seen them last, but it felt closer to years. Not only had my hair grown significantly longer and my skin several shades darker, but the sheer amount of experiences I’d gotten under my belt since seeing them last really made me feel as if I had grown to be an entirely different person. Hugging them, I realized that no matter how much I think I’ve changed, they’ll always see me as their son and love me just the same too.
Our homecoming was short lived because, as much as I’d loved to sit in that parking lot and talk, there were chores to be done before setting up camp. Our main priority was to stock up on food and water. So, without lollygagging too much, we headed into the grocery store, finding time to catch up while going down the aisles.
It wasn’t long before we had everything we needed, and we were off to our campsite. Of course, I couldn’t help but to pull a little prank on my parents along the way. I knew they were anxious about finding a decent campsite, so I played off that fear and told them the only spots I knew about were in large open fields full of other campers. All the while I was actually leading them to some nice secluded sites Kes and I had scoped out prior to White Rim Road (I also played myself because there was no guarantee these spots would still be open when we got there). Luckily, when we got to the top of the road everything worked according to plan, and we were able to snag a nice open spot with great views and nobody else in sight. I couldn’t help but to giggle as my parents got out of the car and yelled “Where’s all the people?”
Dad was hurting to set up camp, but Kes and I just couldn’t pass up the opportunity to do a little photo shoot before unhooking the Teardrops.
I've been waiting to get a picture like this ever since I finished the Teardrop 2.0 (the day we left for the Gap Year).
My parents are so cute.
As Kes took pictures, I took a second to appreciate this moment in time. It was as though I was watching a big puzzle piece finally fit into place. Just a year ago the Teardrop 2.0 was only an aluminum frame and a few walls - both of which were in entirely different states! The Teardrop 1.0 and my parent’s Jeep was still my main camping rig back then as well. And on top of all that, I was still trudging through college!
The Teardrop looked like this for most of the summer.
Standing there with both Teardrops together now, both battle worn, made me remember just how quickly my life had changed. Over the course of a single summer I graduated college, completed the Teardrop 2.0, and left on this trip that was five years in the making. If you told me all that happened in the blink of an eye I would have believed you just the same.
Originally what I expected when meeting up with my parents was Kes and I cooking, cleaning, and generally just making sure that Mom and Dad were comfortable while we took care of some of the less pleasant camping chores. I should have remembered that I was camping with some of the most restless people I know. So, things turned out almost the exact opposite, with Kes and I relaxing while Mom and Dad cooked (maybe they were just excited to finally cook in the teardrop they’d been watching me build the whole summer).
Both Kes and I were quick to jump on the opportunity to look at the 1.0 while we waited for dinner. We laughed, thinking back to how much of a nuisance having only one door was. We admired the colors and even the smell of our old Teardrop. We even noticed some similarities between the 1.0’s and 2.0’s exterior paint jobs that were totally unintentional. But mostly I think we were both just thankful for the stepping stone that the 1.0 provided. Without it, I don’t think we’d be doing anything like what we’re doing right now.
One example of a happy little coincidence between the paint jobs. I'd take my pup Robi over a big elk any day, however.
Soon dinner was ready, and we chowed down on possibly one of the best meals that have come out of the Teardrop yet - BBQ Jackfruit, Mom’s coleslaw, and homemade sourdough. It was DELICIOUS!
It was weird watching other people cook in the Teardrop. Side note: can you believe that's not shredded meat?
After dinner Dad was antsy to explore the surrounding area, so we took by foot on up the hillside, reaching one landmark and heading towards the next. It wasn’t long before we looked down and realized there was no way we were going down the same way we came up. Kes chastised me for taking us up such a dangerous trail, but for once I wasn’t pushing us further, Dad was!
Somehow we ended way up here and had to scramble down before it really got dark out.
Luckily we made it down just as the sun was setting. We made a nice fire, chatted for a little, then hit the sack. The next morning we woke early because we were heading to the last of Utah's Mighty Five!
Arches National Park, Utah
by Sam
Every time Mom and I would drive through Moab, we would pass the long line of cars winding their way up past the entrance of Arches. We always mused about what might be on the other side of the ridge but never actually got the chance to check it out. So, it was cool when finally we had our turn to go past the entrance and over that ridge ourselves.
If you haven’t been to Arches before, let me give you a general description of the area. The park lies atop an underground salt bed that is responsible for the arches, spires, and sandstone fins that define the park. The main valley in the park, Salt Valley, actually formed when a large portion of the underlying salt bed repositioned itself, causing the overlying dirt to settle and form a valley shaped depression.
This repositioning salt also thrust other rock layers upwards in the form of domes, and these domes are what would eventually erode away to form the many arches that now exist. Over time water seeped into the vertical cracks in these domes, slowly eroding solid domes into a series of sandstone fins. As these fins got thinner and thinner some would eventually become undercut and, with the help of wind, would form an arch.
This graphic shows how domes slowly erode away into fins. It's really cool how similar Arches actually looks to this picture.
Arches was way bigger than I expected, and it took us nearly 30 minutes of driving through the park to get to the trailhead for Devil’s Garden. Devil’s Garden is one of several places in the park where a rock dome protrudes from the ground. I was glad to see that waking up early had paid off - we were one of only a few cars at the trailhead. Devil’s Garden turned out to be a really good introduction to the park. This area has a plethora of trails, spurs, and, of course, natural arches.
The trail meandered through a maze of sandstone fins - something I wasn’t expecting. For how popular the trail was it was surprisingly difficult to follow at times, and it felt as though down any gulley or on top of any fin I might stumble upon a new and unique arch. That, or I might become hopelessly lost in the labyrinth of fins. Either way it was definitely one of my favorite hikes of the year.
It's crazy that a place like this actually exists on Earth.
This picture clearly shows Salt Valley and surrounding domes.
Doesn't Dad look epic in this photo? I'm not sure where exactly he's going, but he sure is going there with purpose.
No hike is complete without a few laughs.
A classic Stringfield family photo.
Arches was starting to get real busy by around noon. Luckily we were on our way out when everybody else was on their way in.
As we made our way back to the car we each said which arch had been our favorite. I was surprised when none of us shared the same favorite arch - I think that shows just how cool and unique each arch is. Mine was the Landscape Arch, not only because it’s one of the longest in the park, but also because, in 1991, a large chunk fell from the arch, leaving this already precarious arch even more delicate and thin. On top of that, a hiker just so happened to be there at the time of the fall and captured a picture of the slab in mid air! Could you imagine being that lucky visitor?
Landscape Arch is absolutely huge!
This photo was taken by Royce Morrison 1991. What a lucky guy!
I'm not sure what arch this was, but it sure did have a good view.
This story really puts into perspective just how dynamic Arches really is. At any moment a famous arch could collapse or a new one could form. It’s likely that, when I revisit the area as an old man, I’ll be describing arches I saw on this visit that no longer exist to my grandchildren, all while also experiencing totally new arches. And I think that’s the coolest thing.
For lunch we made my parents our typical lunch of veggie sandwiches assembled on the hood of the Jeep. I think Mom was a little creeped out by the lack of ‘sanitary’ conditions, but she quickly got over that. Life on the road is all about compromise, and this is a perfect example of that.
We were all pooped after our morning hike, so we decided to spend the rest of the day doing some Jeep trails before heading back to camp. We did a trail called Gemini Bridges, named after a pair of natural bridges along the road (fun fact: natural arches are formed by wind and rain while natural bridges are formed by flowing water).
Apparently people used to be able to actually drive across these bridges with their Jeeps! Unfortunately the trail going of the bridges was closed due to shortcutting and trampling of the surrounding area - just another example of how a seemingly small action, compounded by many people, can ruin the fun for everybody.
After Gemini Bridges we made our way back to camp and made the most of what little time we had left with each other. Morning came quickly the next day, and it wasn’t long before we were waving goodbye to my parents as they left.
It will never strike me as not weird watching our friends and family leave while Kes and I stay behind. Even though we’ve had several visitors throughout the trip, part of me still feels as though I should be traveling on my way back ‘home’ with them as well. As the year has progressed, however, I’ve slowly warmed up to the idea that home is wherever the Teardrop is parked.
It's cool seeing stuff like this right from camp.
I really enjoyed showing my parents (and everybody that visits us during the trip, for that matter) how we live on the road. Yes, a lot of our lives are full of action and adventure, but a good chunk of our time is also devoted to taking care of the boring stuff, just like everybody else has to do. It’s just sometimes accomplishing that boring stuff takes a bit more . . . creativity than it does at home. I think we showed them a solid cross section of what life on the road is like - waking up early to avoid crowds, experiencing something totally new, finding a way to ride out that afternoon crash, and ending the day with a nice Teardrop cooked meal and great views. I hope you had as much fun with us as we did with you, Mom and Dad!
Even though my parents only spent a few nights with us in Moab, Kes and I had plans to spend several more in the area. Moab is an outdoor enthusiast’s heaven, and we just couldn’t pass up chance to experience as much of the area as possible. Here's a few of the things we did during our time there.
Of course we had to see Delicate Arch for ourselves after seeing it on so many people's license plates. The view was definitely worth the hail.
We did LOTS of off-roading, much to Kes's dismay.
Oh the places Kes's camera takes her.
Unfortunately this sight is all too common in our line of work.
Moab is one of those places you could easily spend a lifetime at and not even scratch the surface of everything the area has to offer. From Jeeping, to hot air balloon rides, to white water rafting, and everything in between, there really is no shortage of ways to make your own memories here. On top of all that, Moab also has a rich human history spanning thousands of years, from the stories of Native farmers to uranium miners - how cool is that! It probably goes without saying, but you’ll be able to find me in Moab throughout the rest of my life.
Until next time!
Next week we procrastinate leaving Utah by spending one more night in Utah's part of the Four Corners Region. After stumbling upon another stunner of a campsite, one night turns into two, then three, then, well, you get the idea. After finally prying ourselves from Utah’s beautiful grip, we make our way to Colorado where ancient history and new memories with friends await us.
Housekeeping
Hi friend,
If you’re new to my page, welcome!
If not, then it’s really nice to see you again :)
If you aren’t on my newsletter and would like to be, you can easily sign up with your preferred email address and bam! You’ll be notified as soon as I post. There’s also the added bonus of being able to comment on these posts, so I highly recommend doing so if you haven’t already.
Without further ado, I hope you have a wonderful rest of your day.
Best,
Kes the Photobean
Canyonlands is so breathtaking! You capture it's beauty so well with your pictures Kes. And that Jeep/Teardrop is looking might fine. I think my favorite picture of the week was the one with jeep near the rim of white rim road. I feel like that captures the excitement of your gap year more than anything! You guys may have to frame it after this is