Exploring NV & UT: Great Basin Nat’l Park, Cathedral Gorge & Snow Canyon

“If you tell the truth, you don’t have to remember anything.” -Mark Twain

(Mostly true socially-distanced adventures in the desert)…

Great Basin National Park

Great Basin is home to the Goshute tribe, among others. We were grateful guests of this place.

Our late October drive from Vegas to Baker, Nevada took roughly 6 hours due to a fatal accident that closed down the usual route. We arrived to Baker via a dark, deserted Highway 21/487 while listening to the creepy Halloween-themed Spooked podcast. We held our breath until we locked our room doors. Our Airbnb was an updated shed with plywood floors, space heater, and mini-kitchen with yellow walls and a sliding door view of the desert and mountains. It was ideal social-distanced lodging on the outskirts of town, which is redundant since Baker is the outskirts.

We went from Vegas 90-degree October weather to Baker below-zero weather and a light flurry of snow. But we instantly fell in love with the dreamy cloud-covered drive up to the mountains of Great Basin.

We went on a few small hikes including the Bristlecone & Glacier Trail. We looped around Stella & Teresa Lakes, which were mostly icy puddles this time of year. The hike to the Bristlecone grove is mild & pretty. The Rock glacier is, um, exactly what it sounds like and curious to learn about but not all that fascinating in real life. It is a pile of rocks on ice you can’t really see. Yay rock glacier!

But, you are nestled in the magical cirque below Wheeler Peak which reminded us of so many beloved places like the trail up to Twin Lakes in the Crazy range, or somewhere in Glacier—minus the Bristlecones and plus what’s left of the snow-type glaciers. It was a frigid and stunning sort of familiar. I was in melancholy love.

The next day we decided to go up Wheeler Peak, which has a trail all the way up the summit and only 8.6 miles round trip with 2,900 elevation gain. Nothing significant at all, but we’ll have to come back for that one. After 3/4 of the way up with 10 lbs. of layers, mittens, face cover, we finally got our literal push down by stabby wind gusts. Felt like a winter day on The Front. (Also: Stabby is definitely a word).

We ended our days with books, grilled meats and veggies, and coffee whiskey in our hot chocolate. Can’t get much better than that.

Two words for our million star review of Great Basin: Cold Magic.

Also, the night sky. Swoon.

Cathedral Gorge State Park

This land belongs to the Southern Paiute and Newe (Western Shoshone) among others. The Paiute Indian Tribe of Utah website is a great resource to learn more about this tribe whose number was only 800 after invasion & murder by Europeans and Mormons.

“The Paiutes have struggled for more than 100 years to obtain a small place to call home and to live free. Still the effort to secure water rights and land to preserve the culture and way of life goes on. Now the Tribe is seeking to rebuild and regain its culture, sovereignty, and autonomy, and provide for its people. The struggle is long and difficult but the Paiute will survive.” -Paiute Indian Tribe of Utah—Our History.

Public lands like National and State parks tend to talk about Indigenous folks in the past-tense, but they are still here. It is always a humbling lesson to know whose land I recreate, occupy, take up space, live on.

We seek out places. I’m not sure where we learned about this easy-to-miss state park in middle-of-nowhere Utah, but it is certainly worth the stop…just don’t get stuck.

This state park is a badlands fun-house mirror otherwordly playground. Bonus: Not in South Dakota! But, best summarized by images rather than words. Message me if you need descriptions.

Anyway, Cathedral Gorge. Many gold stars, especially for the Moon Slots.

Snow Canyon State Park

Snow Canyon is land of the Southern Paiute and Pueblos, among others. There are petroglyphs here from ancient Pubeloan peoples.

Note: It doesn’t actually snow here, it was just named after some people with the last name Snow. Not Jon. (Sorry). I believe we were there in late September or early October, so it was still quite hot.

Snow Canyon is right outside of St. George, so there are a lot of Mormons and small blonde children. But, plenty of space to explore on your own!

We visited after staying a night at the luxurious Inn on the Cliff for our anniversary. Fortunately it was easy to avoid people & we had a private patio to eat our Lamb Coconut Kurma and veggie samosa take-out from Red Fort Cuisine of India. I crave their spiced rice with cinnamon sticks. Anyway, this is our top local food pick in St. George & the Inn on the Cliff is pretty cushy too. Needless to say, St. George is an unusual place with some pleasant surprises.

Back to the state park. Snow Canyon is where Butch Cassidy & the Sundance Kid was filmed. I’m assuming a western from the late 60s has some major flaws (I haven’t re-watched as an adult), but I loved it back when I was seven.

With that, I present Snow Canyon: Warm desert and umbrellas & magical lightening in the slot canyon. I wish there were wild horses here.

Snow Canyon: 4 out of 5 stars since not everything can be 5 stars. But, really, it is worth your conscious time and I know, I know, places don’t need star ratings. Except Teddy Roosevelt, which gets -2 out of 5 stars.

Best to your socially-distanced adventures! More of ours coming eventually…

“Is it possible to make a living by simply watching light? Monet did. Vermeer did. I believe Vincent did too. They painted light in order to witness the dance between revelation and concealment, exposure and darkness. Perhaps this is what I desire most, to sit and watch the shifting shadows cross the cliff face of sandstone or simply to walk parallel with a path of liquid light called the Colorado River. In the canyon country of southern Utah, these acts of attention are not merely the pastimes of artists, but daily work, work that matters to the whole community.

This living would include becoming a caretaker of silence, a connoisseur of stillness, a listener of wind where each dialect is not only heard but understood.”― Terry Tempest Williams, Red: Passion and Patience in the Desert