Bolger Family Travels

Calf Creek Hike Photos

Okay, so there's a lot:

I see a good moon rising

Carved by the power of water.

Looking up valley.

There's that moon again.

Looks a bit like a dinosaur head.

Fremont Native American pictograph,

dating back an estimated 1,000 years.

This photo of Amanda giving us perspective

on the geology gives perspective on the size

of the cliff walls.

In case you are wondering how

big 92 feet look at the people.

They are actual life-sized.

Our blogger at play.

Kelly in a reflective moment.

The flowers of the prickly pear cactus.

These streaks are called something geological,

and I am hoping Amanda sees this and

emails me the answer.

The group tramping whilst glamping.

Click on the photo to enlarge and spot the bee.

I got clouds on a sunny day.

DJ Jazzy Chance.

Take a Chance on me.

Look in the blue sky at the top left.

See the bee droning in?

Wow, Glen, you took a great shot!

Uh, yeah. Let's go with lucky.

The lush green Calf Creek Valley.

Photo of a group photo.

Makes you think, eh.

Stunning vista.

Our beloved blogger.

Glamping: Hoo Doo Knew It Could Be So Loud

Well, it’s 6:05 am Monday as I’m writing this on the porch outside my tent. The glamping (glamour camping) experience has been mostly positive, but with one big negative. I wish I had bought earplugs (on the optional gear list) because the wind causes the tent to shake and make a lot of noise.
It’s fine when asleep, but I would be woken up by a particularly loud wind, and then have trouble getting back to sleep. Others in the group said they thought it was heavy rain (foreshadowing!). Beyond that, the experience so far has been great – good food, a nice mesquite camp fire, and sleeping on a cot in a sleeping bag was fine – when I could sleep.

After dinner we sat around the campfire and sang songs of the Old West. (Editor's Note: you did NOT.) Okay, we told stories until one by one we headed off to our tents to dream of hoo doos and hikes.

Having a tent to myself makes it easy – I’ve placed my bag on the unused cot, pulled out what I need, and can arrange things quite well. The place has two flush toilets with sinks, and two separate shower rooms a short walk away from the tents. It was no trouble at all to use the toilet in the middle of the night like us old guys have to do.

Now I’m waiting for the sunrise and blogging – it should be spectacular given the setting of our private campground on private land just outside of Bryce Canyon National Park. I’m using my headlamp to see the keyboard.

Camp Scenes -- First Night, First Morning

It looks tranquil (and it is!), although here you

don't need a weather vane to know which

way the wind blows at night.

Powell's Point to the east, with the sun going

down in the west (really, Glen --the sun sets

in the west? Way to advance science!)

Also Powell's Point

The campfire (what else would it be?)

Sunrise to the east (again with the science!)

I'm not bluffing -- this is a cool picture of camp.

Basically, this sign tells us we are where

we are supposed to be. So that helped.

Powell's Point. Red sky. Cool picture.

As Jeff Foxworthy would say, "here's your sign."

Sorry, but I loved this bluff.

Ooohhh -- art and all that. (See, the blog's

photographer used the pines as a filter for the

sun, and it's pretty cool. Kudos to him!)

Hoo Doo You Love?

(Sorry, but I can't be the first person to use that line for a Bryce Canyon blog post!)

After taking the approximately five hour shuttle bus ride from Vegas to Bryce, we were dropped off at the top of Bryce Canyon (actually an amphitheater – a canyon is open at both ends) for our hike down to the pick-up point for our short ride to the campsite.

The ride itself was uneventful – we stopped in Mesquite, NV and Cedar Creek, UT, for gas, good beer, and bad wine, having passed through the northwest corner of Arizona. There were beautiful views of the mountains, as well as lots of Red Rock. We passed through the Virgin River Canyon and some other sights to behold.

The Bryce Canyon hike among the hoo doos was spectacular. I have not hiked the Grand Canyon – only been there once – but it is hard to image it is more amaing than taking the Navaho Trail down into the canyon (that’s not actually a canyon, but enough about that). Bright reds and soft reds and whites and browns. There are hammers and spires (I wonder if spires aspire to be hammers?). All sorts of stunning rock formations.

I brought up the rear of our eleven people group (ten people plus Amanda, our guide) because I was so blown away that I had to keep stopping, spinning in infinity, staring at the rocks and spires. Hallelujah (h/t to Paul Simon). It was both steep and easy – a nice smooth pathway with few stones. I didn’t use my hiking poles. Partway after reaching the bottom my camera battery died, and the other was buried deep in the backpack. It was okay – I used my iPhone for the handful more photos I took. At the bottom, it turned into tree hiking, with glimpses at the brilliantly-lit bluffs.

My only regret was that while the sun blazed on some peaks to the east, the main hoo doos were in shade. The pictures are still cool, but not as much as they would be with full sun.

I realized why I was so slow on the hike. I’m used to hiking in the east, where it is trail hiking through the trees to view destinations. So most of the time, I’m hiking through forests, coming upon waterfalls or rock formations that afford spectacular views in Blue Ridge Mountains of Virginia (or, recently, Maine). Here, at least till the forest, there were incredible views every step of the way, forcing me (“forcing”) to stop and take pictures, which I will post when I can.

We were told it was a 2.5 mile hike, but my Fitbit claims it was around 3 miles – not that it is important. Today, Monday, we’re doing six.