The forecast called for temperatures up to 107 degrees Fahrenheit (42 Celsius). For four people who've been living in the San Francisco Bay area for years, two of whom grew up in Sweden, one of whom's skin is whiter than halibut, this required a bit of thought. How are we going to enjoy the splendor of Arches National Park without dying?
The answer was (and is) quite simple: Get up early. Really early.
The first morning we set the alarm for 5:30 AM. Our destination was the iconic Delicate Arch and by the time we ate breakfast and drove into the park - getting stuck behind a very slow sight-seeing driver - it was easily 7:30 by the time we began making our ascent to the arch.
The Delicate Arch hike is relatively short (3 miles round trip) but fairly steep, especially at the beginning, where it climbs over an expanse of sun-exposed slickrock. Even at this relatively early time I was getting hot, with my lungs straining and my heart beating strongly.
But as it always is, the destination was definitely worth the sweat. You round one last corner at the top of the hike and there it is, imposing itself on the horizon, both massive and delicate at the same time.
This time - we have been to Delicate Arch several times over the years and never thought to do this until now - we walked up to the arch and then down, through the basin below, and up to an adjacent mesa "behind" the arch, so that we were viewing it from the other side of where the trail takes you.
It was spectacular, the now-growing crowd near the arch appearing ant-like, and the arch itself cast into perspective with the other large mounds - destined to be hollowed out like their delicate neighbor in a few million years - so that one could see the evolution that takes place.
We took pictures. We scrambled on rocks to stay off of the cryptobiotic soil. We applied more sunscreen. We marveled at the unreal, unequaled majesty of it all. As I have done since I was a teenager and my family made weekend trips to southern Utah, I imagined myself as one of the explorers, or one of the native Americans, who first stumbled across these landscapes. Surely their minds were blown as well?
What's Anasazi for WTF?
At some point Martin, a thoughtful, often very cautious Swede, perched himself, birdlike, on the cliff edge of our mesa and began taking pictures. I was dumbstruck. Did he not see that he was inches from a hundred meter drop into Moab glory? What about his wife? The family back home? He was unmoved.
Sometimes you think you know a person...
We made our way back to the trail and down to the trail head. It was around 9:30 AM and the temperature was well into the 80s. On our way out of the park we decided to do one quick walk through Park Avenue, the fins rising above us like the skyscrapers on its namesake, only more massive and imposing in a way that impresses just how small one is. In New York City you feel alone in a sea of people. In the red rock deserts of Utah you feel alone in the universe.
By 11:00 AM it was hot. Too hot for us. Off to town for a big brunch and home for a shower. The rest of the day was a drowsy blur.
