The Tyranny of Photography - Part 2

To read part 1, click here.

I was partway through my post-layoff trip to photograph Utah's national parks in the snow. With Capitol Reef and Bryce behind me, I headed for Zion. The day turned overcast as I rolled through snowy mountain scenery. Since every hour of driving hurt my back that much more, I tried to go quickly, but had to slow down once for a flock of turkeys.

When I reached the park border, the old-timey sign and distinctive red-paved road brought a tingle of delight and good memories. I'd had a couple great trips here, now years in the past, and it was wonderful to be back.

Checkerboard Mesa looked as if it had been dusted with powdered sugar.

Sadly, as with Capitol Reef, only the north-facing slopes retained any snow.

I checked into my motel room and once again was brought to the same state of near-tears at the nicely made beds and little soaps, the giant artsy prints of Zion on the walls, the microwave and fridge and little counter of orbicular granite, the hot running water. I was so exhausted. I was laid off, and slightly ashamed about it, the stigma of unemployment seeping in through my better wisdom. And yet here was relative luxury, all for me, with no judgments applied.

There was also a hot tub, apparently. It was outdoors. I went down to check it out but couldn't get my key to work in the gate. I asked the kid at the front desk about it, and he said, "Oh, you just reach through the bars and open the door."

Okay. Of course. I got my suit on, then drove back to the hot tub because I didn't want to walk through the very cold air in my swimming suit, reached through the bars and opened the door, and dipped my toe in the hot tub. It was freezing.

I went back and took a hot shower.

I was so tired I could barely haul myself into bed. But there was no rest. I was here to get good photographs, and by God I would get them. I would wake up at 5:30 to get ready to photograph the sunrise.

By the time I hobbled to the Canyon Overlook, the sun was already illuminating the Towers of the Virgin. But it was behind thin cloud, the light more gray than golden. I stood around in the cold with about a dozen other people while the wind drove grit into my mouth and eyes, until the sun escaped the clouds.

It wasn't until I was leaving that I got my favorite shot. I turned back at one point to spot this couple admiring the view:

So. Not much snow, but it isn't as if Zion is ugly without it. Here are some more shots from that day:

The knee scooter hadn't proven very useful, so I'd started leaving it in the car. But Zion does have a fair-length paved path, so eventually I dragged the beast out and took it for a roll.

It was a mixed bag. Being able to go downhill at a coast was very nice—and earned me envious comments from walkers—but uphill put a huge strain on my good foot, until it became the bad foot and I had to switch. I switched back and forth like this so many times I had to wonder whether the other folks on the trail thought I'd simply brought the scooter along for fun.

I was unbelievably tired. I'd been going at quite a pace, and not getting much sleep. So I asked the staff back at the motel if I could book another night beyond the two I'd planned to spend here. I just wanted to stay in one place for a bit and rest. Where I had only four hours at Capitol Reef and less than 24 at Bryce, I'd have nearly three days at Zion.

Thankfully, the next day was supposed to be cloudy, so I slept in. Then I wandered about the park, or simply stood in one place, waiting for a rare shaft of light to illuminate my subjects.

Here's the Virgin River:

And the Patriarchs:

I was getting used to the cold, which made me wish I'd actually camped instead of getting motels. It is possible to sleep in the Prius, though not incredibly comfortable—while it's big enough, there's a slope to the "bed," so unless I find the perfect slope to park on, I end up sliding until my feet are smashed against the hatch. But it's warmer than a tent for sure.

Ah, well. Next time.

As I got further from home in both time and distance, my everyday fears receded, until it no longer seemed such a bad idea to allow myself a some expenditure for entertainment. I decided to try the venerable Zion Lodge for dinner. When I arrived, the lodge grounds were mysterious, gloomy with fog.

I am happy to report that the burger was excellent, and very reasonably priced. The broccolini that came on the side was delicious too.

The forecast for that night predicted rain, along with temps approaching 32 degrees. If I was lucky, temps would swing toward freezing, and I'd get fresh snow. But taking advantage of that possibility meant getting up at 5:30 again.

When I peeped out the window the next morning, I was delighted to see a dusting on the aprons of the cliffs about the motel. It was time to take some photos.

There wasn't very much snow. If you compare the shot above with my earlier shot of the Towers of the Virgin from the Canyon Overlook, there's scarcely more than before. And sadly, there was less and less as I drove further into the park. I did photograph some hoarfrost on a footbridge.

And the Patriarchs in the early sunlight.

And the Watchman, with its powdered flanks.

It had become a glorious day.

I went to pack up and check out of the motel, and when I exited with the last bag, the clouds were doing wonderful things over the nearby cliffs. I drove back into the park to get a few more pics of the Towers of the Virgin with dancing clouds over them

And a few other things.

Sometimes, some of the more interesting sights in a park are brought in by visitors. I wonder if they have built a camper inside?

Also in this pic is a park Prius that kept riding up and down the park road the whole time I was there. It made me nervous.

I had some time before I needed to get headed back toward Green River... or so I thought... and I decided to check out the Zion-Mount Carmel Highway, which winds through the southeast corner of the park. As I ascended, it soon became very clear that this area had gotten a lot more snowfall. And the sun had already killed it all but what lay on the north-facing slopes. Unfortunately, with the sun to the south, every shot I took of those north-facing slopes turned out terrible. In won't even inflict any of the photos on you.

I'd missed my chance. Come all the way out here to photograph fresh snow, then when it fell, dallied in the wrong part of the park as it melted. Oh well. I can't say I had a bad time. It was cold, it was physically painful, and it was expensive, but it was still fun. And there was a little bit more. If I hurried, I could check out the Kolob Canyons section of the park on my return to Green River. Maybe it snowed there.

I took a drive. It was, in fact, snowing as I pulled into the Kolob Canyons entrance in the northwest part of the park. It was also frigid, and very windy. The woman at the visitor's center told me I was lucky: they'd just finished plowing the road from last night's snow.

Well, "plowed" turned out to be an overstatement. Still, I felt in no danger as the Prius crunched over the gravel-strewn snow, winding up and up.

When I'd looked at online pics of the Kolob Canyons before my trip, they didn't look like much. Some smallish red cliffs that lacked the grandeur of the main part of the park. But I soon realized how inferior a picture can be.

And now, looking at the pics I took there, all I can think is that they look piddling compared to the reality. You will have to take my word for it: the scale of this area is massive. The cliffs positively loomed, their rust-colored bulk truly mind-boggling.

My pics are blurry because it was snowing. And the wind was whipping the snow into my eyes as I struggled to work the shutter button with my frozen fingers.

I wanted to see the red light of sunset on these cliffs, but clouds were moving in, and anyway I had to go. I had a four-hour drive to get to my motel for the night, and it was already 5pm.

I didn't realize that there was snow on the route ahead, as well—falling snow—and that it would only thicken as the evening went on. Soon I found myself chugging up a mountain highway in dusk, headlights illuminating a swirl of thick flakes that dumped down from the heavens without end. It is possible that I should have turned around at this point, gone back to my motel outside Zion and put down money for another night.

Don't worry. All ended well. It was a very long trip that was very painful for my back, though much of the time the pain went ignored as I had to focus so intently on the road, on staying within the snow-free ruts made by the cars in front of me. I crossed three mountain ranges, ascending into blowing snow each time and slowing to a creep until I was out. The tires never slipped. But it was one more experience that made me wish I'd chosen to camp, because then I'd have had my zero degree sleeping bag with me in case something happened.

I pulled into Green River around 11pm, physically miserable, exhausted, and sad about being on my way home. I could have stayed out there. I had no real obligations, just a couple doctor's appointments the day after I returned, easily rescheduled. But I'd have wanted my camping gear, and anyway it was a bastard not being able to hike.

I continue with physical therapy for my feet, and I'm working on solutions that will let me car camp in comfort when it's chilly. In the past, I'd coped with chilly camping weather by just going hiking. Now that I can't hike, I want to be able to write and read comfortably all day instead, and sitting in the car isn't comfortable. Soon, I will have a tent + standing desk + heat source solution to test. You can be sure you'll see the results here.

There's also been one more trip since Utah. I'll post that soon.