I was greeted in Las Vegas with heavy rains. At the airport, there wasn’t much to hide under while I waited for the midnight rental car shuttle to arrive. The shuttle driver told me it rarely rains, and I just missed quite a dry spell. I gritted my teeth and tried to stay optimistic. I wasn’t going to so easily accept that my two weeks alone was off to an unlucky start. My plan was to climb as much as possible, but I’d have to wait til the porous desert rock was dry enough. Wet sandstone crumbles like chalk, too dangerous to play on.
Even though it was Las Vegas, I noticed the air was unusually fragrant. I had just learned about petrichor and wondered if that’s what i was experiencing because of the rain. As I drove to a cheap hotel on the edge of town, I kept the window open just enough to not sever my connection to that air just a little longer.
When I pushed through the hotel doors, I was smacked with a heavy wave of old cigarette smoke. I dragged my bags of gear over the dusty carpet, squinting my eyes to find signs for a check-in counter. A maze of virtual poker tables and bright, flashy slot machines separated me from my room key.
The machines didn’t care that it was 2am, nor that it was a Tuesday. Neither did the handful of people sunken into plush leather seats, hoping to get lucky with each pull of the lever.
Fire Wave Trail
The next morning when I pulled back the blinds in my room, it was only more of the same steady rainfall. I had planned to explore Valley of Fire State Park on my way to Zion. I heard it was a beautiful drive and it seemed well worth the detour, even in these conditions.
After loading up on supplies at a Walmart, I entered the park and caught a break in the rain. That gap was long enough for me to get to the end of the popular Fire Wave Trail and back.
My timing couldn’t have been better. I shut the car door just as the first heavy drops of rain obscured the windshield. I checked my phone, still no service. I looked around at the paper map given by the park staff, taking guesses at where I’d be able to get a view of the sunset despite the storm clouds. I could see couples who I had passed on my way out, all rushing back to their cars, all soaked and kicking steps into the wet, sandy trail.
I wasn’t looking at my map for too long. An orange beam of light broke through the clouds from low in the sky, drawing us out of the parking lot a second time. That second wind of the storm was short-lived and we all enjoyed a quiet sunset.
As I drove out, I thought my trip maybe wasn’t off to a bad start. I took advantage of the place I was in rather than sulking about the weather, and it worked out just fine. Unfortunately, my plan the next day of driving to camp at the base of Signal Peak in Utah (10,365ft /3159m) didn’t like it was going to pan out.
There was already snow at the summit of Signal Peak, which I knew before arriving and that excited me. I packed my crampons and winter layers, ready to brace myself for below freezing temps.
Over dinner, I checked the latest forecast which warned of a major winter storm that would hit that night.
Still, I figured I’d get to the base of the mountain, Oak Grove campground, and see how far I could hike in the morning. As I drove higher into the woods along the single-lane dirt road, I felt more confident, until just half a mile before the campground/trailhead.
The snow was falling thick now and coated what I could make of the ground with my headlights. I could see the parking lot would be just above this last hill, but the slip indicator began flashing on the dashboard. I was slowly losing control and decided to quit while I was ahead, opting to turn around and park on a dirt pullout I had passed on my way up.
I reclined the passenger seat and called it a bed for the night. I knew Signal Peak was out of the question for tomorrow. On a good day, I’d need a pre-dawn start and hustle to make it back in time for what else I had planned. With over two feet of fresh snow, I’d be lucky if I made it a mile without snowshoes. I went to bed thinking that a day out here is better than a day in the office. I checked my phone again to set an alarm, grateful that there wasn’t any service here either.