Having now a bad case of cabin fever I decide that I must get out for a while, though visibility is limited - the wind is blowing snow all around - and it's 25° outside. I head over to Ruby's to top off the tank and get my morning soda. (Now I have to make a complaint here. Both establishments at Ruby's have as their largest fountain drink, a 32 oz size cup. At least that's my guess; it could be smaller. I have to go all the way to Escalante to get my "required" 44 oz'er. What is up?)

Originally, I was thinking of heading up towards Antimony to get onto Pine Lake Road up onto the Table Cliffs Plateau (Powell Point). According to one map at least, there's a 4WD road from the end of Pine Lake out to the point. Normally, if I could get out there the view would be tremendous (the highest point around), but today, well, it doesn't look so good what with the snow and the clouds and... Any 2nd thoughts I had about heading out that way are validated when I see a snow plow just waiting on the road to Antimony and that's about as far up the road I can see. So I head down instead to the Bryce Valley. Who knows? Maybe it'll be clearer down below and/or to the east.

And what do you know? It is. There are definite patches of blue as I pull into Tropic. Not only that, the temperature is up to a balmy 37°. Bonus! I decide to head out to Grosvenor Arch. It's about 18 miles southeast of Cannondale, the last 10 or so via a dirt road. Though it probably snowed less down here than up above, it still may be tough going back in there. "Oh. You mean an adventure?" "I'm in!"

Surprisingly, I'm by no means the first one to head this way this morning, as evidenced by the tracks in the snow. I'm just a tad disappointed as I always enjoy being the "first to explore". I stop where the pavement ends, at the entrance to Kodachrome Basin State Park, and pull over to an Escalante NM information display. Here I set up the GPS so I can track my explorations and "steel" myself for the journey into the backcountry. And off I go!

The snow's not very deep and it's mostly flat so I don't have any trouble making my way. Nevertheless, I lock into 4WD because I'm just not sure I trust that old Ford computer to do it for me. The sun plays hide and seek with the clouds and when it's out it's very, very bright; almost enough to hurt my eyes, reflecting off the snow all around. Unfortunately, it looks like this big, gray cloud is moving in to cover it up. Will I make it the arch in time?

I creep down the first steep hill and splash across a little creek at the bottom. Then up the other side to continue cruising right along. So far no problems. The surrounding countryside is of course sage and scrub, with some pinyon pines, but now mantled in a blankee of snow. Very pretty actually, especially with the dusting on the red, brown and gray rock cliffs and formations, heavily layered and textured, in the background on either side. Though not what I would call a sunny day, it is nonetheless (I love that word!) a magnificent day out here. I'm loving it!

I round a bend and start up another hill when I see a group of people surrounding a car not quite to the top. "Oh oh. I think someone's stuck!" They all look hopefully in my direction as I pull over and roll down my window to talk with the 2 that walk over my way.

"Stuck?"

"Yes!"

"Ok. I'll pull around in front so I can tow you up to the top."

So I pull  around, slipping a little (uphill, in snow), then back to within about 20 feet of the front of the car. I get out and start looking for my towing cable (if nothing, I'm prepared). Then I get to thinking, "So what if I can get them to the top.? Then what?" I walk towards the "spokesperson".

"Where are you guys headed?"

"Phoenix."

"Phoenix!? From here?"

"Well, we got this way off the internet. It was the shortest."

"Where you coming from? Bryce Canyon?"

"Yes. We were staying at Ruby's."

"And you're headed for Phoenix? Hmmmm."

"Yes."

"Well, you're never going to make it."

"No?"

"No. There are some more ups and downs, steeper than this. Plus you've got another 30 miles, and with the snow and the mud... I don't think even I would try to go all the way out to 89 today. Not alone anyway."

"Well, we've got another vehicle. A minivan, on top of the hill."

"I was wondering how all of you were able to fit in that car." (There's probably a dozen of 'em - all college age kids.) "Yeah, but I don't think you're going to get much further today; even if I get you to the top here."

"So we should turn around?"

"I think you have to."

"But there's that spot where the water is..."

"The creek? Yeah, but if you get your momentum going, it's not that deep and you should be able to get up the hill on the other side without any problem."

"Do you have a cell phone. Could you call for someone?"

"You don't need that. Besides, I don't think I can get a signal here." (I check and that's the case) "I'll follow you guys out and if you get stuck again I'll pull you out."

"Thank you. You don't mind?"

"No. Of course not."

"Well, then how do we get to Phoenix?"

"Well, you've got a long haul. Basically, you've got to go around the Grand Canyon. I'll show you on the map when we get you to firmer ground."

"Ok."

"Yeah, just turn it around here and we'll follow the car out. Does anyone know how to drive in the snow?"

"Yes. He's from Austria." (I had heard German being spoken so I think they must be foreign exchange students from Germany & Austria.)

"Ok. He doesn't need my advice. Let's go!"

So I go up to the top of the hill to give the minivan plenty of room going back down; I don't want it sliding into me or anything. Following the minivan now I see that the Austrian dude is backing out - he's not turning around first. Is that how they do it in Austria? I laugh a little at the sight of the full-size car backing up and down the snow covered slopes, followed by a minivan, followed by me in the Explorer. This is a grand adventure! There's a lot of slipping and skidding on the car's part, but I have to give the guy credit; he seems to be pretty much in control of things (though I don't think I would like to be riding in the car right then). Then we all come to the top above the creek; the last "hard" part. The backwards driver sticks his head out and I step out and yell,

"I think you should turn around before crossing the creek. If you back it up to the right there you'll be uphill and shouldn't have any problem turning around. You'll have better luck pushing your way up than trying to pull."

"Ok!"

Then the "spokesperson", a very cute young women, gets out of the minivan and comes over.

"Ok. I think we'll be ok from here."

"Yeah. You've definitely made it past the bad parts. You all shouldn't have any problem after getting to the top there."

"Yes. Now how do we go from here?"

I show her on the map where they have to go to get back to Phoenix, and school.

"See? You go back up to Bryce and take 12 out to 89, and then take 89 all the way into Flagstaff, where you can jump on the 17, straight down to Phoenix. Or you can take 89A from Kanab, but I think that while it's probably ok, it's more likely to be adventurous."

"No. I think we've had enough adventures for today!"

"Yeah! Ok. Good luck!"

"Thanks! You too. Drive safely!"

"Later!"

I watch them turn around and head down the hill. Right at the bottom there's a little grip the armrest moment, but he regains control and powers it up the hill to the top. The minivan then follows slowly, down, across the creek, and makes it to the top too. I back up the hill and find a good place to turn around, then I'm on my way again.

I'm now "following" just a single track; all the less adventurous had turned back by this point. A little voice emanates from my laptop, "Turn right in 51 seconds, last leg." My GPS and software combo is able to give spoken directions. Sure enough, just up ahead I see the sign for Grosvenor Arch. I hang a left and follow the single tracks towards the arch. (Dang! I had hoped to be the first one out here since the snow last night.) In no time I can see the arch (actually a double arch), and within a mile I am at the little parking area about a hundred yards in front of it. I note that you can no longer drive right up to it as I have done in the past; instead there's a concrete walkway where the road used to be. That's cool I guess.

Whoever was here earlier no longer is and I have the place to myself. The road continues on so I decide to see where it goes. In just a short distance I crest a small rise and see that the earlier visitors had turned around here; the road continues to the right with a virginal layer of snow upon it. I cannot resist. Off I go! The road curves around then drops down slightly to cross a wash. From there it goes up alongside a hillside, and to be safe I stop and put it into low before proceeding. No problem!

At the top of this is a cattle guard gate, and beyond, the road snakes down, steeply, before running up the other side. As I proceed I think to myself, "You can always get down the hill. It's coming back up that's the killer..." Oh well, it doesn't look to bad. In low-low I work my way down, then motor up the far side to another crest and cattle guard gate. Here I decide to park and decide what to do. The view isn't so great, partly because of all the clouds, near and far. Off in the distance it looks as if a storm is doing some snow dumping. I decide that this is as far as I go so I turn around and go back down the grade, looking at the steep uphill I have to do next.

I start the run back up the hill, back to Grosvenor Arch, in low-low. Getting up a good head of steam I gun it up the hill. I am surprised by the amount of slipping and sliding as I wrestle the steering wheel from side to side to counter the skids - there isn't that much snow on this section. I hear a lot of splashing and surmise that the slipperiness is coming mainly from the wet, muddy road, and not so much from the snow. I'm able to keep my momentum going though and never feel that I'm sliding uncontrollably. It's a fun ride!

I crest the uphill and, for my efforts, am rewarded with a nice view of Grosvenor arch in the foreground, while in the background the sun has broken through to illuminate Powell Point, no longer obscured from sight by the storm clouds of earlier. I now have a side-hugging downhill section to traverse before reaching the flats in front of the arch, but it shouldn't be any problem. I sit for a while though before starting down, admiring the nearly 360° view and hoping that the sun will pierce the obscuring cloud layer so that I can get a better shot of the arch, showing off it's bright, tawny yellow facade in the sunshine.

But alas, it looks like the next round of the snowstorm is getting ready to roll through; the cloud cover seems to be building rather than dissipating. So down I go. I park in the parking area, grab the camera and get out. I walk up towards the arch, taking pictures as I walk. Once I get closer I can see the 2nd of the 2 arches. Both are up over a 100' above the ground. You can get up on the top though it's not obvious from the front. But, if you go around to the backside you can easily hike up the hill and clamber up on top of the pedestal that is framed by the main arch as you look up from the ground in front. I didn't realize this until maybe the 3rd or 4th time of visiting here. But I think today I will pass on the experience, though the view from top is pretty impressive - both down and out. It's cold (37°), it's getting late, the next storm is coming, I'm all by myself, been there - done that, etc. Maybe next time.

Back in the truck, enjoying a cold Corona, writing some of this up, the sun bursts forth from the gray cloud cover and lights up the arch. I quickly load a new roll into the camera and run up the walkway again to try and get some shots before the sun disappears again. I'm puffing by the time I get up close. (Out of shape? High altitude?) I get a few pictures taken before the sun starts hiding behind the clouds again. Oh well. Overall I think I've gotten some pretty good shots today so... back to the truck and back on the road.

I pass a road branching off to the right. I see that there are no tracks in the snow so I stop, reverse, and turn onto it. It's heading for some hills about 2 miles distant. At the higher elevations the rocks are a speckled tan and brownish-gray. From the ground to part way up is a brownish red rock. The rocks in these here parts must be pretty soft as it's almost a badlands topography. I pass a cattle stockade and then right ahead is a closed gate, behind which sits a little house. There's a big sign that says, "No Trespassing!", so I turn around to head back from where I came. Just as I start back down the road a huge jackrabbit goes tearing across it and quickly vanishes from sight as it disappears in the brush on the left. I look to see if there is anything chasing it, but see nothing. "I wonder what spooked it?" Probably me.

Back on the road to Cannondale I see that ahead of me  a big cloud bank is dropping off of the plateau and moving this way. It looks as if it's shedding snow as it does so. Looks like I may be heading back into it. Though I'd have to say that the sky around me is mostly cloudy, there are substantial patches of blue with the sun making the occasional appearance. When it does it's quite bright with the reflections off of the snow (a lot which has melted since I came this way earlier), though by now it's back down to 33°. I think I prefer the snow as the road here is kind of bumpy - a bit of washboard - whereas the snow seems to mute the bounciness of passage. I still have to be careful of my speed and braking; the mud is as bad or worse for traction. I pass a couple of pickup trucks heading in, with the obligatory dog in the back, and of course we give the obligatory hand wave.

Aahhh. Back on terra firma pava, where the entrance to Kodachrome Basin State Park is. Cannonville, "8 miles". Let's see what all those clouds up ahead are about... I press on.

The road drops down and skirts a chocolaty-red cliff, about 60' tall, with parallel, horizontal lines etched into it. It looks as if someone had taken a giant version of that old classroom instrument that holds 5 pieces of chalk for drawing lines on the blackboard (back when they really were black) and just drew it back and forth across the cliff's face a whole bunch of times. Beyond that I cross the Paria River and start returning to civilization as I hit the outer reaches of Cannondale (which by the way don't reach all that far). There's just a hint of snow blowing by, though if I look up straight above me I see nothing but blue sky. Go figure!

Climbing the grade back up to Bryce though the snow is definitely coming down and the road is pretty much all covered. At the top, back on the plateau (and back to 8000'), we're definitely winter storming; visibility is maybe 1/4 mile, the road's completely covered, the snow is coming down  all around, and it's 21°! I gas up at Ruby's - where I purchase a few more souvenirs - then head back to the cottage. I park, unload, and fetch in the remainder of the firewood stacked on the porch - I hope it's enough for tonight. After getting a fire going and relaxing with another cold one, I hear the motel's plow going about clearing the parking lot. The snow is thick now, big old flakes. I hope I'll be able to get out tomorrow. If it snows all night that could definitely be a problem. There's already 4" or so. Well, whatever. If I have to stay... I have to stay. We'll just have to see tomorrow morning.

Night!

P.S. Well, it finally stopped snowing about 10pm and there are stars shining now so I guess I won't be having to stay. But I'm definitely going to be grabbing that broom in the kitchen in the morning to knock off all of the snow on the truck!