Remember the biologist from my OKCupid post? (Who shall henceforth be known as C., since that’s his name; part of it, anyway.) Well, we had a good second date, spent some time texting, and then I got invited to go camping last weekend. I decided the odds were pretty low he’d end up to be a serial killer, so I gladly accepted. (I may have worried my family a tiny bit by doing so. Sorry guys.)
I only realized a couple days before we went that when I say camping, I mean national parks. When he says camping, he thinks wilderness/back country. And I only realized that when I inquired about the possibilities of showers, and was told not only wouldn’t there be showers, there weren’t going to be toilets either. So I took a deep breath, channeled my younger sister E. (arguably the most outdoorsy of all three of us) and didn’t let it deter me. I borrowed a bunch of camping stuff from Heidi, bought a U of U sweatshirt to keep me warm, and had a lot of fun.
On Saturday, we drove to the San Rafael Swell, looking around the area before we set up camp.
Little Grand Canyon – Wedge Overlook (Photo credit: Wuppataler)
We couldn’t quite avoid RVs and ATVs, but we did our best to ignore them as we huddled around the campfire to keep warm despite the wind. The next morning, we headed out to Bell Canyon/Little Wild Horse Canyon (go click on the link, it’s beautiful). The trail required some climbing over rocks and wading through water, and everything went fine until about an hour in. C. got over the rocky obstacle just fine, but I managed to lose my balance and fall about ten feet, landing on my back in the muddy water. Luckily, the rocks were smooth rather than jagged and I kind of slid the last few feet and wasn’t really hurt, just shocked. We decided to turn around, which was probably a good call, since we had no idea how many more obstacles we’d have to climb over and I had such an adrenaline rush-cum-panicked reaction that having to climb down the rocks we’d previously climbed over had me breathing pretty rapidly for a while. Half of me was soaked and muddy, my legs and back and elbow were scraped up, but no broken bones and not even a twisted ankle or anything, so I guess I was pretty lucky. Even if I did feel both ridiculous and true to character at the same time, since it’s such a me thing to happen. But, as E. reminded me, I may have shown off my clumsy and panicked side, but also my determined and ballsy one, since I cried for maybe a minute or two out of pure shock and then pretty much picked myself up. Small victories, I guess.
Anyway, C. suggested we check out Goblin Valley State Park, as it was close. We wandered around the goblin hoodoos for a while, watched kids play hide and seek, and climbed on and over a couple of them to get some amazing views.
Goblin Valley State Park (Photo credit: Wikipedia)
On Monday, before heading home, we hiked up to the hot springs near Spanish Fork and spent a couple hours soaking in the water there (translate: hopping in and out because it was too hot to be totally submerged but too cold to stay out in bathing suits too long). The hike was short (2 miles up, 2 miles back) and beautiful; the area was immersed in the most gorgeous fall colors you can imagine and the weather was just right.
So yeah, Utah is beautiful. You all should come visit me here.