The Road Trip Day 11: Fractal Canyons

 

Canyonlands National Park, Utah

May 17, 2015

 

 
 

I woke up on the floor earlier than I wanted to; I neglected to close the blinds. Light streamed into our tiny room.

Not long after, my fellow compatriots were up and moving. Our plan was to check out Canyonlands National Park and word from our mutual friends told us to visit the southern half.

Needles District Visitor Center looked like a mirage from the distance. Why was there any structure built there? For the last 75 miles, this was the only man-made thing I saw other than the highway.

The nice park ranger said we would have a hard time passing up the Slickrock Foot trail. We parked the car and hopped out.

Caleb Jennings before his morning Gatorade.

Caleb Jennings before his morning Gatorade.

 
 
Carter Smith takes a moment to relax at Canyonlands National Park.
 
 

Sprawling fractal canyons as far as I could see. Where were we? When? How? We schwacked over rocks, shrubs, and cyanobacteria. Apparently they're one of the oldest things on our planet.

 
 
Sandstone rock at Canyonlands National Park.
Lichen rock at Canyonlands National Park.
 
 

We got hungry for lunch and aimed for the car. Our ice chest, beginning to take on some odor, had tuna salad fixings from yesterday.

Everything wrapped in tortillas tastes great.

 
 
Click here to view this in Google Street View.

Click here to view this in Google Street View.

 
 

There were a few short trail loops on the way out of the park; Roadside Ruin and Cave Spring. Both lived up to their names. For nearly half a mile we walked under eroded boulders. Moss and delicate ferns sprouted from the damp, weeping rocks.

 
 
Cleome lutea, or yellow beeplant.

Cleome lutea, or yellow beeplant.

A typical scene at Canyonlands.

A typical scene at Canyonlands.

 
 

We were surrounded by the oddest of tableaux.

A natural pool after a rainstorm fills a rock crevice at Canyonlands National Park.
 

Parched and tired, and with snacks no longer carrying their weight, we drove back into Moab. The brewery pulled us in. Beer and gelato was just the kind of refreshing treat we needed.

Back at the hostel, we took turns showering and checking the internet. I scrolled to see if I had any emails or if there were any dumb internet videos.

There were.
 

We tried to keep strong and remain frugal for dinner; dehydrated didn't sound delicious. It didn't work. We ordered a chicken-pesto pizza from a local shop. And garlic knots.

Also, I think Carter is cheating at cribbage. You can only get so many 16-point hands...

 
 

Hey, want a ride?

Turn it around:

Stick your thumb out:


Justin Kernes
Justin Kernes is a photographer who hails from the land of sunny omnipresence; California. Early in his life, the family mini-van was regularly loaded up with tents, stoves, ice chests, and sunscreen tubes, and the destination set to "wilderness adventure". National Park books were stamped. Weenies were roasted. Trails were hiked. Fun was had. It was in these weekend escapes where Kernes found his connection for the great outdoors. Since the summer of 2010, he has been running away to New Mexico during the summer to work at Philmont, world's largest youth camp. For three months, he freely volunteers to forgo electricity, regular showers, and all other civil amenities. Kernes begrudgingly earned his BA in Art from Cal State East Bay, a tiny school not even remotely considered for its art program.
www.justinkernes.com
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The Road Trip Day 10: A Million Square Miles

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The Road Trip Day 12: The Magnitude of Time