Southeastern Utah Tour, March 26 2026

On Thursday, I was up and driving into Capitol Reef National Park around dawn. I noted that there were several RVs parked in another pullout on the right side of the road, which I guessed was just outside the park's boundary to the east.

Capitol Dome

Near Capitol Dome, looking southeast

I stopped near the Capitol Dome to photograph some of the scenery. What struck me particularly was the new green leaves on the trees along the Fremont River contrasted with the red rocks on the canyon walls. 

A bit further on, there is a short walk along a catwalk, which leads to a view of a petroglyph panel. This panel is better preserved than others I saw on the same trip. The catwalk is enclosed by a railing, which evidently discourages the less-determined graffitists.

As I drove toward the visitor center, I saw a sign that pointed to the Grand Wash, and thought that might be a good place for a hike. I drove through the historic town of Fruita, where commercial orchards are still in operation. I had thought that Fruita might be a backup fuel stop in case the prices in Hanksville had been too high. But even though the town is marked on the map, it only actually exists in memory. There is a one-room stone schoolhouse to represent the community the formerly existed, and a few modern residences. Aside from the orchards, that's about the extent of present-day Fruita.

I reached the visitor center before it had opened, so I helped myself to a park brochure and used that to plan my visit. I decided that I would drive along the scenic drive through that part of the park, and see what hikes I found attractive. I wanted to fill my water bottles, but the fill station was closed. A sign directed me to a fill station at the picnic area near the Gifford House, but that fill station was also closed. I had to fill my bottles in the camper.

Entering the gorge

At the top of Capitol Gorge

As I drove along, I noted that there was a large parking lot at the top of the Grand Wash. I thought that I might hike down through the wash, pushing my bike, and then ride back along the highway to complete a loop. When I reached the end of the paved road, I pulled off into a picnic area. There was a sign on the road which warned that the maximum vehicle length on the dirt road leading on was 23'. With the bike rack on the back, the truck is slightly longer than that. So I chose to leave the camper there and proceed by bike.

Capitol Gorge

The Golden Throne

It turned out that the road down to the Capitol Gorge trailhead would have been easy to drive down. But since I was already there on bike, I parked it next to a sign and hiked into the gorge. 

The trail through the gorge passes another petroglyph panel, which contained a few pictures left by the original inhabitants. There were also dated inscriptions from pioneers that had passed that way in the 1800s. Those later additions seemed to encourage recent visitors to make further contributions even though this is expressly illegal. The latest addition was just a date: 1-12-2026 -- the visitor too cowardly to add a name or even initials, but still bold enough (I guess) to make the transgression.

The Narrows

The trail leads further down the gorge through "The Narrows", and onward to a spur which climbs the south wall of the canyon to "The Tanks". The Tanks are a series of pools that hold water and support the wildlife that resides nearby. After visiting The Tanks, I returned to my bike and rode back up out of the gorge.

One of The Tanks

I returned to the dirt road leading down to the Grand Wash Trailhead. Along the way, I took a picture of the "Book Cliffs" -- an outcropping of tightly-spaced layers of red sandstone. This time, I ignored the "max vehicle length" sign and drove right down to the trailhead parking lot. Some hikers were just pulling out as I turned around, so I was able to snag a parking spot in the lot proper. By the time I returned, the lot was packed, and people were parking along the side of the road further and further from the trailhead.

Cliffs along the Capitol Gorge

The Book Cliffs

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

Bikes are not allowed on trails within the National Park, but I figured that by pushing the bike rather than riding it down the trail I was at least obeying the spirit of the law if not the letter. If challenged, I would have hoisted the bike onto my shoulder and turned it into "a rather awkward package". But other hikers seemed undisturbed by my boldness, so I walked the bike down the length of the wash.

A view north from the Slickrock Divide

Entering the Grand Wash

When I reached the highway at its northeast end, I sat in the shade of an overhanging rock and ate my lunch. Then, I mounted the bike and rode all the way back to the Grand Wash Trailhead. When some people in a camper van saw me loading up my bike, they started to wait for me to leave, so I didn't tarry.

Passing this way

was an act of faith 

I had checked the water tank the night before, and found that I had used more than half of its 16 gallons since refilling at the Green River State Park. I thought it might be useful to top it up before venturing out across the western Utah desert -- which I planned to do later in the day. I stopped at the campground and found that it was easy enough to pull into the trailer dump station -- which also had potable water available. 

A characteristic view near Fruita

showing the rock layers angled upward 

After that, I drove to the Gifford house, since signs had advertised that it had pies available. Presumably, the pies are made with fruit harvested from the nearby orchards when it is in season. I found no pies in the store -- just jams and the like, souvenirs and ice-cream novelties. I decided there was nothing there to tempt me, so my visit to the Gifford House lasted about a minute.

Another iconic view

near the Grand Wash turnoff 

As I drove toward the west side of the park, I stopped again at the Panorama Point overlook. It does offer an impressive view of the valley stretching away toward the southeast.

For the next part of my adventure, I had decided to follow U.S. 6 west across the desert, and see if I could find camping somewhere in the Humboldt-Toiyabe National Forest just inside the Nevada border. I had driven across the Great Salt Desert on I-80 many times, and wanted to see a different part of western Utah. My route took me through Loa to Salina -- where I refueled -- then on to Scipio and finally Delta -- where I refueled again. Heading west from there, I again encountered signs warning that no services were available for the next 97 miles. So off I went into the void.

There was a high overcast west of Delta, so it was not too hot. The first part passes Sevier Lake, a mostly-dry basin to the south. There are Dense Fog warning signs along the roadway, and I noticed some steam rising in that direction -- indications that the lake actually contains water in the early spring.

About halfway across the desert, the road rises to a low pass across the Confusion Range. In airplane flights over the West, I have sometimes visually followed roads that run arrow-straight across the desert for tens of miles, then zig-zag up over a pass and then run on arrow-straight for many more miles. I suppose that U.S. 6 is one of the roads I had studied from the air, and it's zig-zag was the very same pass.

The mountains in the Confusion Range are composed of a dark grey rock whose summits appear to be barren of any vegetation. The lower slopes -- even in this wet season -- are adorned with tawny scrub. There is no evidence of running water anywhere. Even though the peaks are not particularly tall, I wonder how many of them have been visited by man. If remoteness is gauged by the distance it would take to travel to the nearest water source, there are only a few places on earth that are further from civilization.

By late afternoon, I had driven as far as the Nevada border, where I took on some more fuel. I decided to take a chance on finding an open campsite inside the Great Basin National Park (the existence of which had only come to my attention earlier in the day through signs posted along the highway).

I drove to Baker, and stopped at the visitor center to pick up a map. The park contains several campgrounds, so I felt confident that I could find a place to stay the night. The road into the park climbs steadily, and the first spur to the right leads to the Lower Lehman Creek Campground. Signs at the intersection indicated that only that campground was open.

I reached the campground and found two spots in the recently-opened lower loop. I left the truck in one spot, but by the time I'd returned the kiosk I had decided that the other one was the one I preferred. A sign at the kiosk indicated that all campsites must be reserved online. I found that my preferred site was open, but when I started to make the reservation on my phone it got to a point where I needed to log in. My login information is on my laptop but not my phone, so I returned to the camper and continued the process from there. By the time I had found my password and logged in, the site was no longer available. And in the next few minutes, someone drove in and started setting up camp.

Since the site I was in had already been reserved, I decided to hang out and see what happened. At least, I needed to have dinner. I proceeded to prepare my meal with the expectation that I might have to pack up and move on at any moment.

That did not happen. In the next few hours, several other travellers came into the campground and drove around slowly, looking for an empty site. One even moved aside cones next to a sign indicating that the site they were blocking was not yet available (for reasons that were difficult to perceive), and set up their camp there. But noone challenged my right to occupy the site I was in, so I lucked out in the end. Around 11, I concluded that I could stay where I was and turned in for the night.