The look of it all was that of a mysterious winter landscape and we wanted to capture every bit of it. This time of year is my absolute favorite and for one simple reason, the snow. Winter is definitely a relaxing season for me and without a doubt the best time to travel. Leaving the entrance at the canyon floor of Zion, we took State Route 9 eastbound and up the switchbacks to the Zion — Mt. Carmel Tunnel. Starting at an elevation of 4, ft 1, m , the highway exits the east end of the tunnel at an elevation of 5, ft 1, m. Sentinel Peak is a beautiful and very photogenic mountain. At an elevation of 7, ft.
Sentinel Peak was however a much taller mountain. Recent studies have uncovered evidence of an ancient avalanche that originated from that mountain approximately 4, years ago. The avalanche was immense and spread over an area 2 miles 3. This blockage occurred at what is now the main entrance to the canyon floor of Zion National Park. Back then, the canyon floor was a much more rugged and narrow passage.
Over time, the Virgin River filled the canyon with water and a giant lake ft. During that time, sediment filed the bottom of the newly formed canyon lake until eventually the body of water that was given life by an avalanche, soon expired and drained away revealing the more flat and tranquil canyon floor that we know today.
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The riddled surfaces of the Navajo Sandstone peaks here can be very alien looking. Combined with winding roads and hidden slot canyons, this area of the park makes a completely new adventure.
The snow up here was significantly more abundant than the canyon floor so decided I stay for a bit longer. We were fortunate to have explored the petroglyphs and slot canyons earlier last week because access to those places was almost impossible with these conditions. Julia and I were about to wrap up the biggest road trip on record.
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An 18 day romp through the great American Southwest. The memories alone have been some of the best and I will never forget these moments which I believe are what matters most in life. Julia had the time of her life and so did I. This site uses Akismet to reduce spam. Learn how your comment data is processed. Monday, December 14th, Julia and I awoke on what would be our very last day in the town of Springdale.
The morning air throughout the park was crisp and lightly breezy. I wanted this to work. And as soon as I said it, I knew the jig was up. We were not on a date. You should have said that. You should have been straight up with me.
I thought you just wanted to hang out. Although I would have preferred to run down the sidewalk alone, letting the wet wind lash me into reality, she insisted on going with me. So for a few blocks at least, we walked along the Portland streets together. She deposited me safely in front of my hotel and smiled. Her thoughtfulness compounded my mortification.
There was no way in hell I was getting coffee with her in the morning.
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We hugged goodbye and I walked, dazed, up to my hotel room. That night I was too miserable to reflect on how I had gotten there.
I went to sleep immediately, collapsing on my hotel bed fully clothed. I woke up in the morning eager to flee the scene.
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I packed my bag and drove three hours back home to Seattle. In the days following my non-date, I replayed the scene over and over in my head. Then, like a crime scene detective, I read back through our emails.
How could I have been so off about it being a date? We were queer strangers meeting up on a Saturday evening at a bar with velvet curtains! It was my first glimpse at what it felt like to be desired again. My heart fluttered at the possibility. So I took her up on the casual offer to get together and we made plans for the following month. In retracing the digital history of our conversations, I realized how magical my thinking had become.
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She was obviously dazzled by my wit and charm over email. Game on! And my daydreams were myriad. The deeper truth was—I was terrified. I was newly divorced and unexpectedly single and the parent of two children.
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The woman I thought I was going to grow old with was no longer my partner. When I met this new woman and thought there was something between us, I grabbed fiercely onto that rocket ship and started the countdown. It was a break from mothering, from commuting, cooking, and cleaning.