Navajo/ Queen's Garden Loop (5/25)

Yesterday one of the other members of the veg crew and I went to Cedar City, the closest big town to run errands and pick up some groceries. I wouldn't necessarily call Cedar a city, it's more of a series of shopping centers built up around the highway, but they have a Walmart, so I can avoid paying $5 for a loaf of bread again (I haven't gotten over it, in case you hadn't noticed).

Today was my resting day, I slept in until 9:30, which at school really wouldn't have been that late (maybe even leaning on the side of early), but here it's close to four hours later than when I usually get up. I lounged in my pajamas, and when I felt like it, I went to the library and soaked up the internet, since we don't have it at the house. Ahh, a glorious do-nothing morning, the first in weeks.

I wasn't really planning on doing much else after, but my other housemate wanted to go out for a small hike. So! We went on a small hike, doing part of the Navajo Trail and the Queen's Garden loop inside of the amphitheater. We started at one of the popular view points, Sunset Point (or Sunrise? They're so close together...)

It was incredible. I must have taken 150 photos of the short trek, and since we were both soaking it up it took quite a bit longer than it should have. It took us a little more than two hours to go 2.5 miles, because we kept stopping to take picture after picture.

But it was absolutely beautiful. The descent into the amphitheater was lovely, we waddled down into the ponderosa pine stands, surrounded by the orange cream coloured hoodoos and rock faces. As we went, the sun got lower in the Western sky, casting shadows across the layers of the spires and lighting up the already vivid oranges and smooth creams.

The white-tipped walls, no doubt bleached white by the high mountain sun, stood out in bright contrast against the blue, cloudless sky. We were met with bright bursts of emerald and the deep lush greens of the high-altitude trees and shrubs.

The climb back up was gradual as we continued to photo-document our brief stint in and out of the hoodoos, which jutted up from the ground in layers. Looking out across the highest peaks of the short trail, the rows seemed almost like dominos waiting to topple over in quick succession. It was a beautiful, colourful little hike, and hopefully the casual pace will help my sea-level lungs orient themselves to the 7000-8000 feet on which I perched myself. By the last big ascents, I was panting like a dog, my lungs burning as if I had run up the inclines instead of meandered back up. Tomorrow we may go out again, because I'm ready to soak up the rest of the honeyed sunlight and orange cream walls.