The fire roars gently in the old, soot-blackened brick fireplace. The cedar logs within it - burning with a frantic crackling and popping, and a cascade of sparks spiraling and twisting madly up the chimney - fill the air with a scent reminiscent of Grandma’s old chest of treasured memories. Save for the fire, it is quiet after the holiday repast, as those who sat together at the Thanksgiving table - giving thanks for the meal about to be eaten, for each other, and for all the many good things in their lives - now recline and relax in the small living room, savoring the meal just consumed and the warmth thrown off by the leaping, yellow flames. It’s a small group this year – only four – so there is room aplenty in the small, cozy living room of the quaint little cabin. One is in the chair, legs stretched out in front, toes seeking the warmth of the hearth. Another lies lazily on the floor, head resting on outstretched arm (the better to digest we presume), while another sits curled comfortably on the small couch. The fourth is also on the floor, but sitting up, with back against the sofa, getting lost in the vaporous dance of the flames across the room. Outside, the chilling air, whose temperature is dropping quickly towards the low 20’s, paints frosty patterns on the window panes that look out from the kitchen onto a red hillside now overlain with the soft white blanket of an early snowfall. The stars above shine electrically in the cold, clean air of 8000 feet above sea level - bright and beautiful and breathtaking to gaze at. Just another Thanksgiving evening at Bryce Canyon!

Yes, here I am once again spending my Thanksgiving at Bryce Canyon National Park. Well, just outside of it anyway, at the Bryce Canyon Pines Motel. We just finished eating and cleaning up and we’re resting in and steeling ourselves for another round of Sequence. I cooked the meal as I am wont to do up here and this year we had:

Emeril Lagasse’s Southwestern Brine-Soaked Turkey
Mushroom-Nut Stuffing
Nutty Wild Rice Salad
Southwestern Zucchini-Corn
Rosemary Potatoes
Pineapple Bread
Homemade Peanut Brittle

I am told it all turned out well and I would like to believe that is indeed the case. The turkey, which I saw on Good Morning America, was fantastic! It was probably the most moist turkey I have ever had (certainly that I have ever prepared). It was soaked in a seasoned brine solution for 36 hours and it came out tasting so good that… Well, you must try it yourself - you will not be disappointed!

We all drove up yesterday. Well, Mark S and I arrived just before midnight. Mark C and Margaret arrived about 5 this morning. Mark and I hit the road about noon yesterday, about 2 hours later than planned, but still earlier than usual. It was plenty early enough to miss traffic though and we make fantastic time the whole way. Except for just before dropping down the long grade towards Stateline where we come to a complete halt due, to we find out from the trucker stopped right next to us, a fatal rollover accident a few miles ahead of us. To pass the time (we are frozen in place for about half an hour) we get out and chat with our new trucker friend. Turns out he is from Winnipeg, Manitoba (that would be in Canada of course) and every other sentence is punctuated with an, “’Ay?” It is amazing to listen to. Yes, they really do talk like that! He is a garrulous sort and regales us with several trucking stories of his. I ask him if I could look inside his cab – I had never seen one the insides of a sleeper before – and he graciously says yes. So I hop up and take a quick gander at the 2 beds (one a foldup), the little TV, and the fridge back behind the seats. Pretty cool.

Soon enough we get underway again and by the time we get to Vegas, where we gas up again, it is already dark. From Vegas it’s about an hour and a half to St. George, Utah where we stop for gas one last time and to grab a quick dinner (BK, to go). Just north of St. George is the turnoff for Zion, Rt. 9, so we finally leave the interstate and turn east - towards Zion and Bryce Canyon.

Rt. 9 takes you through the small towns of Hurricane (Hur·ri·căn) and La Verkin before rising quickly up to a plateau that during the daytime affords a very nice view back towards St. George and the red rocks that surround it. Once you’re on top the road meanders over to the Virgin River, which it then follows the rest of the way into Zion after first passing through Springdale, which butts up against the south entrance to the park. I take note, as we drive by, of the additional buildings and businesses that have been established over the many years that I have been coming this way. By no stretch of the imagination is the area crowded though thank goodness. I note also that the Xmas decorations in each of the municipalities are not yet up - typically they wait until the day after Thanksgiving. I must confess that the times I drive back this way at night, the sight of the lights strung along and across the streets adds a special complement to what’s always a wonderful time spent in southern Utah.

No matter how many times I drive through Zion, no matter whether it is daytime or nighttime, I am always struck by the orange color of the pavement, pavement made of rocks from the same formation as that which rises so high above you as you traverse the park. I still think to myself, “How cool!”. It always reminds me of my very first time here, when my brother Carl and I were on our last hurrah before entering the real world – a cross country trip in a little green Chevy van (What a piece of…!). It was late at night and we were headed towards Zion after a very long day. We had started that morning at the South Rim of the Grand Canyon, driving all the way around to the North Rim hoping to stay there for the night, but unfortunately, “no room at the inn”. So after a very quick visit we got back on the road, destination now Zion. I was driving. It was very late. I was tired. And then all of a sudden I was driving on an orange road! I had never, ever seen such a thing! Well, it perked me right up let me tell you, and I will never forget that sight. Imagine. An orange-colored road! (As an aside, the next destination on our trip was Bryce Canyon, and well, the rest is history).

We are alone in our drive through Zion as we head up the switchbacks towards the mile long tunnel cut right through the mountain. Halfway up I stop the truck and invite Mark to get out to take a look with me. (“No, I’m not going to kill you or anything weird like that!”) The stars fairly shout at us as we step out, all vehicle lights turned off. Our jaws drop as we both gaze skyward absorbing the sight of myriad upon myriad bright, blue-white points of light shining almost supernaturally bright in the cold nighttime air that very quickly chill us back into the warm refuge of the Explorer.

Under way again we pass through the tunnel and drive past the parking area for the Zion Overlook Trail. Mark asks me if that’s the one described in Stirrings IV and I respond in the affirmative. We proceed on through the rest of the park, twisting and turning around all the neat formations up there, but, alas, not visible to us for enjoyment this time. Leaving the park through the East Entrance (and the orange road) I remark to Mark that this is prime deer area so I’m going to take it easy through here. Sure enough, in no time at all, we see some standing by the side of the road. For about 20 minutes there are enough deer sightings to have me keep my speed at 45 or so as we drive on through and down to Mt. Carmel Junction where Rt. 9 ends and we pick up 89 North to Bryce Canyon. If no where else, you can almost guarantee that you’ll see deer along this stretch of the drive from LA to Bryce. It reminds me of the time I drove to the Grand Canyon Xmas Day with my brother Ken, sister-in-law Mary, and my girlfriend. I was driving (of course) and everyone else was asleep (of course). It was around midnight and we were about half an hour from the rim. I was able to see very clearly as there was a full moon that evening and it reflected brightly off the mantle of snow that lay on everything – including the road upon which we traveled. We were the only travelers that late at night and the thick covering of snow made it all very quiet. As I was driving, humming along to the song playing on the tape, I saw a deer standing just off of the road. “Cool!”, I thought. Then just past that I saw a couple more. “Neat!” Then I saw a couple more. And then a few more. And then some more!. Soon I was passing through a whole herd of deer, just hanging out on both sides of the road. Many, many deer. I had never seen so many deer at one time before. They weren’t really doing anything; just hanging out doing deer things I suppose. It was like we were driving through a convocation of deer, an assembly called just once a year on a special day – Xmas Day. It was indeed an extraordinary sight!

Anyway, we make our way safely through “Deer Crossing” country and turn north onto Rt. 89 for the final leg to Bryce (after having to stop for a juvenile male in the middle of the road who can't decide which way to go or what to do for about 30 seconds before lunging for the bush and safety from the great blinding beast rumbling only yards away. The rest of the trip is uneventful and we arrive safe and sound just before midnight, Utah time. We unpack, leave the door unlocked for our fellow tripsters and go to sleep. Mark and Margaret finally stumble in about 5 am, safe and sound also. Everyone is here. Let the exploring begin!

Thursday, as is the tradition, the other 3 go for a hike in the park while I prepare the holiday meal. So I shoo them off and then proceed to bustle about the kitchen cooking this, preparing that, making this, etc. For once, I plan appropriately and we actually eat at a reasonable hour (about 8). Afterwards, after an appropriate time for digestion, we break out the Sequence board and proceed to play until Mr. Sandman comes knocking at our door. “Go to bed already!” So we do. After all we have some exploring to do in the morning. Another great Thanksgiving Day at Bryce Canyon. I am very thankful!

Take care,
Chris