Bryce to Zion

When we awoke, I clambered to the window to see this "view" the receptionist promised us.

It was white.

Snow had fallen overnight and was still falling. I looked out and saw a road not too far away, blanketed with snow. No mere side-road, this was the route we would need to take going west many miles. As I watched I saw a car carefully driving on the road demonstrating that it was possible though maybe not easy.

We went down to breakfast and there was a sense of magic in the air. There were children playing in the snow outside as we ate and everyone seemed relaxed. We took our time over breakfast, knowing that as the snow was still falling there wasn't any hurry to get out onto the road. Back in our room, we called parents and took advantage of the excellent wireless in our room one last time to watch the John Lewis advert that made Philip Schofield cry.

We bundled up and checked out, saying farewell to my favourite hotel of the trip with its lobby furniture carved from deer antlers including rocking chairs and book detailing the trek of a family across the United States (one chapter was called "Susannah's Sacrifice").

We paid our fee on entrance (actually we upgraded from paying individual fees to getting a annual pass for National Parks which made me feel like a very Proper Person) and drove to Bryce Point which was as far as they had cleared the roads. There were a few people at Bryce Point exclaiming at the view and trying not to slide on the path.

The snow had eased off and the snow clouds were beginning to clear. Regions of the amphitheatre were bathed in golden sun while others were still under cloud like a patchwork quilt. The sight was as awe-inspiring as the night before (though from a different viewpoint) and even more beautiful for the layer of snow on the tops of the hoodoos.

Skit and I made the obligatory shots of Bryce Canyon and then considered our next step. We had wanted to complete the "Peek-a-boo" trail in the amphitheatre but that was before the snowfall made casual-shoe hiking problematic. So we thought that we'd follow the trail down into the amphitheatre a little way to get the change in elevation and turn back as soon as the path became difficult.

Three hours later, we returned.

It turned out, the path was easy. Fresh snow with only a few footprints on it without any ice or deep drifts (except for the one by the side of the path where skit made a snow-angel) meant for good walking. We hiked down to the base of the amphitheatre in our usual slowed-by-taking-photographs way, gasping with each new view of the hoodoos. As great as the views were going down, it was the Peek-a-boo trail loop on the canyon floor that held the greatest surprises.

The elevation difference from Bryce point to the Peek-a-boo trail is about 800 feet/240 metres and on the trail there were fairly sheltered portions where the snow had not settled. By the time we made it down to the trail, the sun was properly out and beating upon us strongly. We both spent the hike slowing taking off layers and faffing with whether we need gloves or not.

The trail was aptly named for how with every turn, the surroundings surprised us. It was a trail of discovery as we walked through arches and found ourselves transported to new worlds. The hoodoos varied in size and shape. One turn found us in the midst of a hoodoo gathering, all in a vast semicircle in worship to the sky. Rocks rose up as spires and turrets or resided grandly as cathedrals. They extended forever as an insane Magic Eye of rock shapes. We both gasped with the beauty of the wall of windows.

The trail rolled up and down, keeping our hearts pumping nicely with the exertion but never being too difficult. Just perfect, in fact. We noted the number of footsteps in the snow and realised that we had the company of a handful of people on this trail including a couple with snow chains on their shoes. Fortunately our unchained shoes never failed us.

The walk was absolute perfection with one not-so-minor flaw: we didn't really intend to go on it. I brought no food or water with me. By the time we completed the trail, we were both somewhat regretting that and still had the 800 feet climb ahead of us. Back at the top, we felt like we both needed and deserved pie.

We went to the only restaurant open during the off-season and got a late lunch and followed that up with pie (cherry pie in my case). One trip to the gift shop later (where skit bought petrified wood) and we were on the road again.

By this point, the roads had cleared of snow and there were no concerns driving. Our destination was Zion National Park. We needed to back-track most of the journey we made the day before but it felt quicker to me this time and we were nearly at Zion when the sun set. The road took us through the park in order to get to the nearest settlement for accommodation and food: Springdale. It was a good road as all roads are in National Parks (it seems) and I enjoyed driving the tight bends up until the point where it grew too dark to see the exit of them. There was also a tunnel that was over a mile long. That was fun.

We got to our hotel, pre-booked, in the early evening. It was the same place I had stayed at about five years ago and loved it but since then it appeared to have invested no money in the place (no wifi and worse- the room had no heat). I complained about the heat situation and we got a noisy electric heater that made me feel sick when it was on but it was somewhat necessary as it was, though the warmest place we'd been to since Needles, quite cold.

After a rest in the hotel, we went out, arm in arm, on the hunt for dinner. We just walked down the road in the direction of the park and totally failed to find anywhere to eat for long enough that we were beginning to worry that we should have taken the car. But then the Spotted Dog Cafe appeared.

It was a good restaurant boldly proclaiming its wine cellar credentials. We spent ages mulling over our choice of wine and eventually got a Californian Syrah. The meals were great. I had a very creative pasta dish with pear and ricotta stuffed parcels. It was simply heaven. The meal was wonderfully enjoyable and we were in good spirits. Somehow we ended up as nearly the last ones there so we asked to take away the rest of the wine. The night before at Bryce, an old man tried to remove beer from the restaurant and was retained by the staff until he gave it up as it was illegal for him to do that according to the law in Utah. However, in the Spotted Dog Cafe it seemed to be acceptable.

We skipped back to the hotel slightly merry and warmed by the good food and wine. Well fortified, we settled down in our room to watch some Mad Men (nope, the Suitcase still depressed me) and Community.

It was a good day. Bryce was clearly the highlight of the roadtrip for me and the Spotted Dog Cafe was my favourite place we ate at in the south-west. Just brilliant.