Dear Bryce Canyon-
It is an hour from sunset on Sunday night here in your "North" campground.
My brother has fucked off for a good long while so I can take a nap, text some friends, take a ritalin and read and write.
I took my blood pressure today in the grocery store where we bought local beer, cookies and sprouts. Carrots and more almond milk.
Paid for gas today on the way in, and it was great weather again, but storms are expected soon.
We got a flat tire just as we pulled into the Kolob Canyons parking lot. Right up next to a mexican family in a big truck with a shredded tire of their own. Same tire! They had no spare, unfortunately.
Our tire looks to be in ok shape, but it turns out it needs more than just a patch.
Now I have twirled the parts of my hair that aren't too gross to touch from grime and dust, sand and silt and not bathing for almost a week. My hair dreads itself out in a furious way.
Bohemian brew pilsner from Midvale, Utah and clips of readings from the Nomadic Festival's zine "Carnival of Chaos" narrate my afternoon post hike into your exquisite "Queen's garden".
Amazing! .8 miles from Sunrise Point and drowned in switchbacks. When I get back to my bro, whom I've now left napping, has split, and without a water bottle, so I hope he hasn't gone far. I'm hoping he will appear by the time I've finished this beer (which is pretty soon).
The campground amphitheatre is a short downhill jaunt away. I might perform some poems there in homage to the dusk.
A truck periodically swings over the roads, sprinkling them with water to keep the dust down.
And a very flirty and determined chipmunk (maybe more than one) skitters about the campsite hoping for a speck of chow.
Stellar's Jays-smart and beautiful- swing elusively from tree to tree and call their short evocative song. They are my new favorite birds.
Up at 6a for sunrise photos on the ridge. Making tea and packing up. Morning rituals have Chris at yoga, then tea, grapefruit. Along for the ride are cereal and oatmeal. Pop tarts and apples.
Last night he treated me to pizza and salad. We eat and drink well on this trip... And enjoy plenty of olfactory emissions!
Finished a book by Bukowski (good), wrote three haiku for Sedona (ok), and a jotted a little bit in my experimental storybook (eh.)
You know, you have very beautiful vistas on the trail just to the rear of our site. I smell cookout fires and (I think) marshmallows. We haven't lit a single fire, and I don't think we will. It's simply too dry around here, and I just know if I collect wood I'll be covered in sap.
Tonight would be good for a night hike in the form of a site walkabout. Cars keep rolling in as the day gets cooler. I think we may be full up, here.
The increase in elevation from Zion natl. park makes it a little better to live with. Still dry tho', and now it's Chris's turn to get a bloody nose.
I inspect my receipts: Lunch at Wildcat Willies (veggie burger and sweet potato fries), Red Rock Grille at Zion Lodge (pasta and quinoa with veggies and red wine), a few sundries from Sol Foods.
I want to write poems on the backs of all of them. Then I want to put them into the fire pit and remember them by forgetting them.
We record songs and sing and read aloud- harmonizing. An accidental worship of the thumbnail moon.
Cool enough now for long sleeves, jeans and a sleeping bag wrap. (Still so warm in the car!)
Up on the ridge at rim trail. Into the view beyond, a small line of orange lights gleam like adjacent campfires down canyon.
Chris puts his guitar away and goes to take a look. It is after 10p, and the ranger/host has made his last rounds. We have finished our beers and washed our dishes and teeth...
Memories swim neatly as I prepare for dreams. Last night I slept in until late morning with nonsense so vivid I thought during the dream that I must be dreaming.
It is a realization that changes nothing.
I couldn't see any stars yet, but the air was dim. Pink and forgiving with breezes.
My headlamp around my neck. My brother fast asleep with the water jug nearby. Breathing soundly near Sedona spring reserves.
Thursday night I review some maps I take in the awe of our 1st day in Zion. We drink the last of the beer at our free camp site (thanks to Charlie in Kenab, from whom we bought a book and a tea kettle) and I look forward to soymilk over cereal for breakfast and PB and celery in the afternoon.
We have consumed our PB and J's at Antelope Beach this past morning- many hours and miles ago.
A couple camps beside us. A man's murmurs audible. There are other talking sounds from across the way... there seems to be owned land or a homestead over that way.
The sun is gone. The trees are loosely packed where we are, and where we are is also littered with bone fragments and pieces of a long-ago chowed deer.
The road is a little washed out and I kept worrying I'd bunk up the bottom of the car getting up and down- beautiful but sketch terrain for a car that's been stuck in the sand 2x so far and lost an engine cover! Oh well, I worry about the low clearance and the breaks that need to be worked on, but we got the oil and air filter changed today for 50bux and Chris says he's golden on cash, so that's good. And we're still at a half tank of gas. The annual parks pass too is already saving our ass from a bunch of fees...
We are dirty kids having good clean fun.