Humphrey Was Here: A Dog Owner's Story of Love, Loss, and Letting Go by Asher Mark J

Author:Asher, Mark J. [Asher, Mark J.]
Language: eng
Format: epub
Published: 2009-10-30T04:00:00+00:00

I had heard rave reviews about Zion National Park, just forty-five minutes from Kanab, from several of the volunteers and staff members. The next morning I decided to take a drive and spend the day there. In no time, the deserted, two-lane highway led me to the east entrance of the park.

Arriving in Zion during the off-season is like being on a short guest list to visit paradise. The place was practically empty of people and breathtakingly beautiful—dominated by monolithic red sandstone cliffs, regally accented with snow-crowned tops.

One of the park rangers told me that during the peak season, they close the Zion Canyon scenic route (containing some of the most dramatic views of the park) to all through-traffic except shuttle buses. I may have seen fifty cars, tops, while I was in the park.

I did witness, however, a minor traffic jam along the scenic route when a flock of turkeys decided to take a stroll right smack down the middle of it. Watching from the side of the road, I found it hysterical; many of the motorists found it frustrating. No matter how incessantly they honked their horns or tried to wave the turkeys away, the proud birds continued to mosey along the road.

When the turkeys finally yielded and the cars were able to slowly nudge by them, the turkeys looked up at the motorists, and yelped loudly, as if to say, Hey you, our kind was here before this road was even built.

I got a feel for the park, driving from one end to the other, taking in its high points, literally—Checkerboard Mesa (6,670 feet), The Sentinel (7,157 feet), Abraham (6,890 feet), and The Great White Throne (6,744 feet). I then parked my car and wandered through stone alleyways and ascending, narrow trails, which rewarded me with panoramic views of Zion’s grandeur. After devouring the environment and shooting off two rolls, I decided to end my day by taking a walk along the Virgin River.

With rock formations towering above me on each side, and the sound of the Virgin River meandering downstream beside me, I was in heaven.

A mile or so down the path, I came upon a group of ten mule deer grazing on some vegetation a couple feet off to my right. Without my camera, which seemed to scare them off, it was much easier to get near them. There were seven females, two adult males, and a young male just beginning to sprout horns.

While the females milled around and chewed grass, the two adult males began to playfully ram each other with their horns. As the deer slowly moved along; I moved with them. The male deer occasionally glanced over at me, but they seemed to be comfortable with my presence. It was the closest I had ever been to deer; never before had I been able to blend into nature and simply observe them. I followed them along for another thirty yards before heading back to my car.

A curse may have brought me to Utah, but it was a blessing being here at this time of year.

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