Cedar Breaks National Monument in Utah – Better Than Bryce?

Mid-August, 2011 - Visiting Cedar Breaks National

Monument was the main reason we came to Dixie National

Forest but, sidetracked by caves and canyons, it took us a

while to get there.  Vastly overshadowed by nearby Zion,

Bryce Canyon and Grand Canyon National Parks, a lot of

folks are like us and only hear about it from a ranger or

other traveler once they get to this area.  Years ago we had

stopped by for an hour on a quickie drive-by.  This time we

wanted to hike the two hikes and see the canyon up close.

Perched nearly in the clouds at 10,350' elevation, the wildflower-lined

winding road seemed to climb forever before we got to the park.

Intrigued by the sign for the Spectra Point overlook in the parking lot,

we went straight up that path when we arrived, not knowing we were

venturing out on a 2-mile round-trip hike.

WIthin minutes we were staring at a wonderland of red rock spires

and hoodoos.  The puffy clouds floated by above us, casting

shadows across the red rock "amphitheater."  Red, pink, white and

orange rocks in crazy shapes filled the view in all directions, and

bristly pine trees speckled the distant cliffs

The trail wanders along the rim of

the canyon, weaving in and out of

lush greenery.  There are no railings

or gates to obstruct the view, and

we felt as though we were

suspended above an orange

fairytale town.

Wildflowers bloomed alongside the

trail:  white columbines and red

indian paintbrush flowers begged to

be photographed.

A little chipmunk

sat contentedly in

a thicket of

bluebells and ate

them for lunch.

We made very little forward progress as we kept stopping to take in the views,

admire the colorful wildflowers and chat with other people on the trail.

Many people were at the canyon that day somewhat by

accident, as it hadn't been on their original itinerary.  One

fellow had had car trouble while visiting Zion and Bryce and

had asked the mechanic how to keep his family entertained

while waiting for the several-day repairs to be completed.

"Go to Cedar Breaks!"  He was so happy to have discovered

this park; his kids were running ahead of him down the path,

excited to get to the overlook.

A 1,600 year old

bristlecone pine

tree stands near the

end of Spectra

Point, thriving in a barren, windwhipped and

hopelessly exposed spot.  The wood is striated

beautiful shades of orange and brown, and a few

scraggly branches prove to the world that the

seemingly lifeless giant is truly alive and well.

The sun felt warm on our skin as we walked,

but the brisk wind that swept across the

canyon was a sharp reminder of just how

cold this area can be.  A ranger told us that

the park usually gets 15' of snow each winter,

but last winter was buried 30 feet deep.

On our way back we noticed a doe eating the flowers, and then

behind her we saw her fawn.

As we drove out of the park we stopped at Chessmen overlook

and the North View Lookout.  Stunning.  Amazing.  It's impossible to find words to

describe the vastness, the vivid color, the exotic contours and shapes of this beautiful

land.

Earlier residents of this area were the Paiute Indians, and they named the canyon, "Place

where the rocks are sliding down all the time."  After that the Spanish explorers

misidentified the juniper trees as cedars (much as they did on Isla Cedros off of Mexico's

Baja Pacific coast).  The word "breaks" refers to the steep, eroded landscape.

Cedar Breaks is known as much for its glorious wildflower

displays as it is for its majestic red rock amphitheater.

We returned on another day to hike

the Alpine Pond Loop Trail, and

found ourselves snapping shots of

the many brilliant wildflowers before

we even got to the trailhead.

Lupines and daisies and a myriad of

other flowers lay thickly on the green

brush surrounding the trail.  The hum

of bees and mosquitos was very loud

too, and the lush land seemed to be

teeming with life.

Oddly, the forest of tall pine trees shading the

wildflowers is largely dead.  In past years the

energetic National Forest Service extinguished all

wildfires within hours of them starting.  The result was

an unhealthy forest dominated by one species of tree.

Those trees provided the most awesome feast for the

bark beetles that like to eat them, and in the past

decade the beetles have munched their way through

the woods, transforming the living pine

canopy into a pin-cushion of dead trunks and

branches.

Between the dead branches you can glimpse

the red rock canyon, however.  The spires,

nooks and crannies of that spectacular

landscape are utterly impervious to the

comings and goings of trees upon the

surface.

Eventually we arrived at the alpine

pond.  It wasn't the crystal clear kind

of lake we have seen at Yosemite

and other places, but it had its

charm.

Some of the dead tree

trunks had been carved

by Nature's graffiti

artists -- little worms

made all kinds of

patterns in the wood.

We had started on

the Lower Trail

which is lush and

green and closed-

in feeling.  We

returned on the

Upper Trail which

takes the hiker out

across a wide

meadow filled with

flowers.  The peak of the wildflower

season in Cedar Breaks is the final weeks

of July and perhaps the first week of

August.  We were a little behind the peak,

so the blanket wasn't quite as thick with

color.  But it was plenty

beautiful enough for me.

Mark has a green thumb

and cultivated strawberries

at one time, so he instantly

recognized the shape of

wild strawberry leaves

among the other greens.

"Strawberries!"  He cried,

and then he spotted a beautiful tiny red ripe one, about a half inch

across.  We left it for whatever bird or bunny might come that way.

The trail gave us one final glimpse of the red

rocks of Cedar Breaks and then we were

back at the truck.

Mark's parting shot was the reflection he saw

in my sunglasses.  He came up to me really

close and said, "Oh, that looks really cool!"  I

thought he was sweeping in for a kiss, but

suddenly he stopped, put his camera up and

snapped a picture.  I made a face at him,

and then, being a romantic, he swooped in

for a real kiss.

Looking for more red rock adventure and a slightly lower altitude, we wandered 30 miles or so north along the incomparably

scenic Route 89 to the Red Canyon area.