Canyonlands National Park

The morning showed the RV still with power, so the new battery may be doing the trick.  Helen was going to stay at the trailer and lay down, but I told her she could recline in my (driver's) seat when Liz and I were hiking, and perhaps that would help allowing her to still see the sights from the car.  She decided to go with us, and off we headed to Canyonlands National Park.

The first stop was at the Monitor and Merimac--two red monolithic rock formations named after the civil war ships, and the immensity of the canyons only grew as we climbed higher and higher up on a vast plateau formed between the Green and Colorado Rivers.  Deep, sheer canyon walls dropped away from the pleateau--carved by the forces of water over the eons.
 

 We were able to take several easy hikes, leaving Helen behind to rest near the car, to see these gorgeous vistas, as well as a natural arch window that kept opening onto a sensational canyon view as you approached.

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

Some of the scenic pullouts were right at the road's edge, and Helen could get out and enjoy the beauty without walking more than a few steps.  On one, we looked back at a landscape that seemed to have been ripped from Mars, and at another, the awe of the canyon was easly seen.  Once, we stopped where a raven chortled at us, and I told him that he needed to visit his friends in Mendocino if he wanted better pickins'...

We decided to stop for lunch at the picnic area near the end of the overlooks, and these lovely picnic spots have tables under shade canopies, and each picnic table has a paved parking space slotted in diagonally in front of it--the tables are set fairly far apart, so there is a sense of privacy.  We pulled in to the slot for the picnic table, Liz got out, walked over to the table, and pronounced it a good one before heading off to the restroom, while Helen and I began to unload.  As we approached our table, a young woman, one of the many foreign tourists (French in this case), rushed over and took our table as we neared.  I told her we were in the tables parking slot and the table was ours, and she waved her hand and said "we come from just over there" which turned out to be about 200 yeards away at a trailhead, as she beckeoned the rest of her family who came quickly trotting up.  Lizzie later said she saw hur hurrying toward us, and thought she was trying to beat her to the restroom.  But no, she was stealing our table.  We told her she was very rude, got into the car, backed out of the parking space for that picnic area, picked up Liz, and headed to look for another spot, of which there was none. 

An hour later at the Dead Horse State campground down the road, 2:30, we had our picnic, still fuming over the rudeness of that young woman.

The Deadhorse State State Park is very beautiful, and is so-named because in the history of the area, cowboys once rounded up some horses, penned them, and left them without water.  They all died, thus giving the place its name.  Today, the visitor center has plenty of water, as well as a coffee stand, art gallery, and gift store--the staff are friendly, and well made trails wander around the canyon rim.  In the distance to the north were two enormous salt basins.  The picnic area is large and easily accessible, and like all picnic areas, full of hungry chipmunks.

Tomorrow the plan is to return to Arches, and then dine out on buffalo or other game at Buck's Grillhouse in Moab.