Captivated Me

captivate : v. to attract and hold the attention or interest of, as by beauty or excellence; enchant.

Tag: arches

January 22, 2022

Day 5: Arches National Park

The morning air today carries a unique chill, the kind that seeps easily through your layers and into your bones. But no matter! The skies are clear, the birds are singing, and it’s bound to be a beautiful day chasing arches.

I am almost late for sunrise at the Windows, a pair of arcs situated to the north and south of a single rock formation in Arches National Park. I arrive at the landing within the North Window and am greeted by three photographers – one couple from Colorado, and one solo photographer – all directing their lenses around the landscape. The arch opens to a ravine, with beautiful views of the mountains directly to the east, where the sky is beginning to glow. Our perch within the arch happens to be serving as a special form of wind tunnel, and we four are hunkered down, sharing rocky ledges to hide behind, and offering extra hand warmers to fit into our gloves. I look around, noticing a view of nearby Turret Arch with the pink, lustrous valley behind it and a distinct moon overhead.

Opposite our ledge, on the other side of the ravine, is a daring, narrow bench that a handful of other photographers have hiked over to. Their tripods are at the ready, and they too await the idyllic spotlight that will soon expose what night has shaded. Within minutes, the sun arrives joyfully over the mountains to join the party, illuminating everything it touches. I marvel, snap a photo, and marvel again, and repeat this cycle ad nauseum until I have had my fill of the beauty from this vantage point. I then hike along the ridge to the opposing side of the ravine, stepping gingerly along the slickrock so as not to fall. This perspective affords a layered view of Turret Arch at the center of the eye of the North Window. I love how looking at the same subjects from different perspectives can reveal new facets, corners, studies, and beauty. This applies, I think, not just to photography, but to life.

I retrace my steps back through the North Window and toward its sibling just south, then across the rockscape to Turret Arch where I encounter another kind couple from Colorado. We exchange photos, and I climb up into the arch to peruse its stone-walled contents and gain a higher view of the Windows. Altogether, stunning. I thank God for the sunrise and how it warms my frozen nose, then make the short hike to another remarkable arch, or rather two – Double Arch. Here, I encounter a group of photographers performing a workshop, and after a fun parlance around our mutual hobby, we go separate ways along the trail. The formation is immense, intricate, unlike any of the others I have seen so far. It reminds me of an optical illusion, like the Magic Eye books I relished when I was a child. I snap a couple of photos, then continue my tour of the park, aiming for Balanced Rock.

This landmark is a quick stop, but interesting in its totem-like appearance. The portion of greatest breadth sits atop a stony pedestal, looking almost as if it could fall at any moment. I learn that the ‘teetering giant’ and the base that it stands on are composed of different types of rock, the base being more susceptible to erosion than the boulder above. One day, the base will crumble and the boulder will tumble off!

After admiring the balancing act, I drive along the main park road to its furthest extent, the Devil’s Garden campground and trailhead. My afternoon consists of two separate hikes with multiple arches of all shapes and sizes distributed along each, explored over a period of five hours. Tunnel Arch, Pine Tree Arch, and the ever-delicate Landscape Arch all lie along the Devil’s Garden trail. Others do as well, but an angry Achilles tendon today prevents me from scrambling upward along the angled slickrock that would otherwise permit access to them. I resolve to return to this trail again in the future to complete this unforgettable loop. I then reroute and hike along the unpaved, primitive trail which showcases extensive views of the mountains and valleys surrounding and beyond the park limits. This path is less traveled compared to the one toward Landscape Arch. Microspikes are handy here, as slushing snow is cooling into ice while the breeze blows. I hike through a flat wash, hugged on all sides by the smooth, phalangeal towers at the heart of the Garden. I then begin scaling the rock formations with my best effort, and regrettably come to the end of my ankle’s ability to tolerate the upward climb, so I make my return to the trailhead to set out on the next adventure.

Broken Arch and Tapestry Arch are my closing aspirations for the day. On this winding trail, I am one of only four hiking groups out and about. I take my time, noticing the detail of the sagebrush and the twisted bark of peculiar trees as I go. Tapestry Arch is a trio of beautifully woven stone formations that lie in sequence. Broken Arch hides further along on the path and involves some light climbing and scrambling, and I am delighted to find myself alone when I arrive. An unobstructed view of the mountains serves as the backdrop to Broken Arch, known for the large crack at its apex.

The sun is casting a serene glow over the scene, and I take a few photos. I then meet an older couple, a man and woman in town from Boulder and Telluride, respectively, who ask to exchange photos. We do, and in the meantime, they challenge me to a timed jumping photo. These happen to be some of my favorite, and I accept the challenge. They are playful and fun, kids at heart, and I note that I hope to carry that same playfulness and glee in my own heart as I journey through life.

We share about our gratitude for the beautiful day and about our hometowns, then we continue toward opposite arms of the looping path. The sun is making its way toward the horizon, and its golden rays are highlighting the rocks, trees, and trails in dreamy ways. I feel nestled in peace, free to relish the present moment, and ready for whatever curves and bends lie ahead when I fly home tomorrow. And above all, I remain thankful for the people, places, and precious moments that made this week so sweet.

I backtrack along the park road, driving slowly, eyes roaming the landscape and drinking in my last sunset in Moab. Skyline Arch makes its way into view from the road, and I spend a moment marveling before I continue on. Mile after mile, gratitude grows to overflowing. I get back to my hotel, rest a final few moments in the hot tub, and wind down the evening with a tired body, but a full and hopeful heart.

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January 20, 2022

Day 3: Canyonlands and Corona Arch

A calm, peaceful morning is underway. The skies above are a clear, velvety dark navy blanket bursting with starlight as I drive the short route to Canyonlands National Park. Situated around a half-hour from Moab, Canyonlands is known to offer an inverted, carved-inward landscape that juxtaposes the upward-reaching formations at Arches. My eyes squint carefully at the empty road before me to ensure that no wildlife are crossing along the way. I feel a familiar tingle of excitement for this morning’s hike.

Amos Lee sings as I pull into the trailhead parking lot, layer multiple times over for warmth, and collect my backpack. I get out of the car and adjust my headlamp, now necessary since the car lights have extinguished. Just a sliver of creamsicle coloring has started to tint the eastern horizon, and the area is dark. An easy, short jaunt leads me to the feet of Mesa Arch.

One of the most photographed icons in Canyonlands, I am surprised to be one of only four people at the landmark this morning. We all warm ourselves, exchange introductions and origins, and keep our eyes fixed on the horizon watching for first light. Tomas, one of the gentleman at the arch, shares a story from decades ago about his one and only visit to Minnesota, when he went tubing down the Apple River with his mother and brother. Soon after we start talking, the hiking duo from Minnesota that I met in Capitol Reef yesterday arrives, and we all visit further as we await the upcoming spectacle. These interactions remind me that home is something you carry in your heart, and it can include new people and new places and new moments, no matter where life takes you.

The canyon is grey with shadow several minutes longer. I cannot wait to see its depths and details revealed when sunrise comes, but I try to photograph its edges in the meantime as the sky slowly brightens. Then, one of many miracles that occurs every day in our lives, a tiny, vibrant sunburst peeks out from over the La Sal mountain range. In the minutes that follow, the arch before us exudes an ever-increasing tangerine glow. The canyon begins to fill with daylight. I gaze. And gaze. And gaze. And cannot believe the beauty before my eyes. I remain for two hours, noticing how the sun arches across the sky, admiring how the shadows dance along deep ravines in response to the sun’s gentle leading, marveling at how a scene can be at once so simple yet so intense. The first wave of explorers has gone, and a new couple has arrived. Rafal and Stephania are a loving duo from Warsaw, Poland who delight in finding adventure together and are on a tour of national parks in between work commitments. We admire the landscape together, then they leave to journey further into the park. My final friend this morning is named Phil, an aerospace engineer decades my senior, who is adventuring the park after a recent knee replacement. He works for NASA – which is the coolest – and we exchange our fascinations with astronomy. He and I exchange photos for one another, he departs, and for a moment, I stand before this luminous scene alone.

I feel breathless, humbled, grateful. A melody rises up from my heart, and I cannot help but sing and set it free. I go and sit beneath the gleaming arch and reflect on the drop-off to canyon views directly below. The layered rocks of peach and cream and seafoam green, the fringes and edges and expansive canyons that dive into the earth, the sheer, unadulterated artistry. I meditate for a moment on what a canyon can teach us about life. Can it teach us to embrace the depths, treasure the layers, brave the shadows? To watch the horizon expectantly for daylight, even when a season feels dark, and to appreciate the stars in the meantime?

Slowly, hesitantly, I leave my post and return along the looped trail toward my car. I spend the remainder of the morning driving the scenic roads of Canyonlands, stopping at any overlook or trail I can find to stand in awe of the views, and encountering Rafal, Stephania, and Phil several times along the way. To end the morning, I pass through the Visitor Center to pay my entrance fee and find gifts for family and friends. As I leave, Phil arrives and gifts me with a NASA pin, to my great surprise and giddy delight. I thank him profusely for the gesture. My heart is full.

I leave Canyonlands midday and make the drive to a trailhead along the Lower Colorado Scenic Byway just north of Moab. This quiet, tranquil road winding in tandem with the mighty Colorado River leads me to the desired parking lot. I am so eager to begin this hike that I start for a good few minutes up a strenuous staircase before realizing I left my phone on top of my car in the parking lot. I return quickly, gather my phone, and scale the staircase once again. There is a landing at the top, and I am unsure of where to go, so I veer right to follow a beautiful train track that appears to have a trail of footsteps beside it. Rocky walls line both sides of the tracks, and I take some photos as I hike on for another 15-20 minutes. I begin to question where this leads and, grateful to have my phone, notice on Google Maps that I am not at all following a hiking trail. This is unfortunate, because there are two duos of hikers behind me who have been following me all this way! I about-face and tell both groups that if they are destined for the local arches this afternoon, we are on the wrong path. We collectively laugh and joke, and begin our return to the landing from which we ought have ventured straight over the railroad rather than making a right hand turn. How wonderful it is, I observe, that when we go the wrong direction, it is never too late to turn around. How often does this happen in life, and God in all His goodness and grace allows us to course-correct and get back on track?

I hike on happily, leap-frogging with my fellow explorers as we take photos and stop to gaze at the landscape at different intervals. The dirt path contains some light obstacles and scrambles, which eventually give way to slickrock. Jade green dashes of paint mark the trail along the rock, leading to a steep upward climb along a cable system, followed by a ladder climb up to a ledge where views of two remarkable arches come into view. I continue the hike to the left along a broad slickrock bench that curves around a ravine, noticing beautiful Bowtie Arch to my left. I pause and goggle here, then continue on to one of the largest arches in Moab, Corona Arch. A hiking couple arrives around the same time, and it turns out they are from my home state! They tarry a moment, along with one family who was already exploring the arch, then as both groups leave, I have the space to myself.

An orange ribbon against a blue sky; I love this complementary color combination. Birds sing nearby, and my heart sings with them. Once again, as before, I sit and enjoy the vista quietly, drinking in the moment. Then I take a second to introspect and ask – What can I learn and glean here, from this place? I crane my neck to follow the extent of the formation and notice how open an arch is, how flexible it appears as it bends, how strong it must be to withstand the elements of wind, rain, ice, snow that assail in any given season. I love how these qualities relate to life – When struggle or hardship come, can we learn and choose to courageously keep our hearts open, stay flexible as circumstances shift, and strengthen our faith in God and our resolve to endure?

I ready myself to return along the out-and-back trail, and as I do, I notice two fellow hiker women and one dog approaching – Tori, Bridget, and Loki. Recognizing them from the railroad track mishap, we greet each other with laughter. We visit a while, sharing observations and stories and photos, and quickly learn that we all work in healthcare. We very swiftly become friends, joined by a love for hiking, faith, and our jobs! They have just arrived to town today, and we make plans to meet for dinner at a local eatery this evening. We say farewell for now, and they go onward toward the arch while I make way down the ladder, down the cables, and toward the parking lot. I drive the short road back toward Moab and decide on a detour through Arches National Park where I watch the sunset. The sky transforms from a bright blue to a soft cerulean, the orange rocks turn grey-violet, the mountains appear lavender, and I am spellbound by the beauty.

After sunset, I swing past my hotel to change, then drive the brief mile into town for dinner. Tori, Bridget and I meet at the Trailhead Public House and Eatery for burgers and drinks, wonderful gifts after a long day of exploring. We enjoy learning about Moab from our waiter, Travis, who over time has made his way here from Alabama because of the incredible outdoor experiences that this locale has to offer. The time is precious and full of laughter, as we talk together about life, love, and other mysteries. We tentatively agree to meet at nearby Dead Horse Point State Park for sunrise tomorrow, provided no one out-sleeps their alarm.

Another day in Utah has come and gone. It was full to the brim, and my heart is full in kind. I return to my hotel, soak leisurely in the hot tub, and turn in for the night.

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