Utah Rocks!

We reach Utah on Wednesday afternoon, driving a highway so quiet it feels like hours between seeing another car. As we're still a ways from Zion, and decide that setting up the camp by daylight would be nice, we stop in a lovely and quiet campground near Cedar Breaks National Monument, the first red rock park on our list.


(Don't mind Brian, he's screwing our new license plates onto the car)

Wde reach Zion National Park by 11, where we are politely reminded that this is Memorial Day weekend (un weekend prolonge tres populaire aux US), and we're foolishly clueless if we think we're going to find a camping stop after 10 in the morning. Foolish we are, and lucky too, as we get the one before last camping spot in the Park, with a gorgeous view on the red rocks from our airbed.



We hop on the shuttle - 'cause Zion is an advanced national park that bans cars from the "scenic drive" during summer and instead offers a very efficient shuttle (navette) system. Zion Canyon is a very narrow canyon with all kind of redish-pinkish-orangish nuances. Sadly it was cloudy that day and our pictures don't do justice to the beauty of the place.



Anyhow, we decide to go hike "the narrows", up high in the canyon where it gets so narrow that you're actually hiking up the river, by which I mean, knee-deep in the river.



Turns out this is not only fun and beautiful, but also quite exhausting (and cold!) after a while, so we drag ourselves back to the camp and enjoy the (cloudy) sunset over our cosy camp.

Our next morning's attempt to see the sunrise on the red rocks is foiled by weather and a seeming genetic inability to really get going bgfore 8 am - we end up going back to bed (oops) and sleep in until the sun reaches our tent, a couple of hours later... By then we decide we have seen enough of Zion which does, quite honestly, entertain some resemblance with Red Rock Disneyland, and take the drive out towards Bryce canyon, our next destination.

We stop on the way for a last hike that brings some pretty views



Finally done with Zion, we think, as I back out of the parking lot. Shtonk. Pssssssssssssssssss... Oh, that so distinctive sound! We find a shiny screw neatly planted in the middle of our front right tire. Pssssssssssssssssssss says the tire. We suspect some cranky teenager, probably acting out his aggression at being stuck in a minivan with his cousins, placed the screw there, as the circumstances are too specific to be mere bad luck.

But the end result is the same, and Brian got to inaugurate our jack and spare tire under the scorching midday sun. We drive, oh so slowly, the 50 miles to the nearest gas station (did I mention this was all taking place in the desert?) where a most taciturn yet friendly guy fixes our tire.