A failed Mount Ellen attempt left me with a few spare hours, which became an unplanned drive through Capitol Reef, a roadside stop for Fremont petroglyphs, a detour into Swing Arm City and a night at Green River before Mount Peale.
Capitol Reef was not part of my plan. After I gave up on a Mount Ellen attempt because the rental car did not have enough clearance, I suddenly had a few spare hours. Instead of trying to force another mountain into the day, I slowed down and kept driving.
The slightly embarrassing part is that, before that afternoon, I had never even heard of Capitol Reef National Park. I certainly had not heard of its Fremont petroglyphs. That changed rather quickly.
Capitol Reef is built around the Waterpocket Fold, a nearly 100-mile-long monocline where tilted sedimentary layers create a long sequence of cliffs, ridges, domes and valleys. I knew none of that when I arrived. I was simply following the road through increasingly interesting red-rock country.
Red cliffs, Chimney Rock and a sandy wash were my introduction to a park that had not existed anywhere in my plans that morning.
Utah Highway 24 curves through the exposed layers of the Waterpocket Fold. Driving slowly turned out to be a much better use of the afternoon than rushing somewhere else.
The geology changed almost from one bend to the next. Red sandstone sat above paler green-grey layers, while softer beds had been carved into rounded ribs and gullies.
Contrasting rock layers and different erosion patterns make the Waterpocket Fold unusually easy to read from the road.
At one point I noticed many cars stopping and people walking towards the cliffs. I did not know what everyone was looking at, so naturally I stopped too. The attraction was the Fremont Culture petroglyph panel along Highway 24.
The National Park Service dates Fremont and Ancestral Puebloan occupation of this region to roughly 300-1300 CE. The roadside site is viewed from two wooden boardwalks, and its sandstone panels include human-like figures, bighorn sheep, other animals and geometric designs.
Some figures are obvious immediately; others almost disappear into the weathered sandstone and desert varnish.
The broad panels reward a slower look. The National Park Service notes that visitors often notice more figures the longer they study the rock.
Smaller figures continue across narrow faces and shallow recesses, including several animal forms that are easy to miss at first glance.
The short stop reminded me of other rock-art sites I had seen in Valcamonica, Namibia, Turkey and a few other places. I had arrived knowing nothing about the petroglyphs and left pleased that a random line of parked cars had made me investigate.
I also left with the familiar feeling that I had spent too little time. Capitol Reef clearly deserved more than the quick sample I gave it.
Continuing east, the scenery changed again. Red sandstone towers gave way to the pale, heavily eroded country around Caineville and Factory Butte.
Freestanding sandstone towers mark the transition from Capitol Reef's red-rock scenery towards the more open desert east of the park.
Around Factory Butte, the Bureau of Land Management describes the terrain as Mancos Shale badlands. Soft sediment has been cut into smooth slopes, narrow ridges and deeply incised gullies, producing a landscape that looks almost engineered despite being entirely erosional.
Pale cliffs, gullied slopes and long ribbed ridges build the strange open terrain around Caineville and Factory Butte.
Factory Butte rises above sharply dissected badlands, with isolated fins and ridges giving the foreground an almost miniature-mountain appearance.
Nearby I made a short detour into the Swing Arm City OHV area. BLM maps it as an open cross-country riding area within the Factory Butte recreation landscape. For me, the more memorable part was simply taking the rented car onto the dry, firm surface and following faint tracks, or occasionally no obvious track at all.
It reminded me of my first trip to Mongolia with Rob, where we had one rule: point in the direction you want to drive and drive. Swing Arm City felt similar on a much smaller scale. The detour was short, but I enjoyed both the freedom of wandering around and the rock formations surrounding the open ground.
Beyond the main buttes, smooth ridges, distant mountains and broad mesas opened into a much wider central Utah landscape.
The final part of the drive became increasingly open, with long views across the desert and occasional reminders that this empty-looking landscape is still a transport corridor.
A passenger train and a line of parked trucks added a useful sense of scale to the wide desert before the day's driving finally ended.
I drove to a car park in Green River and spent the night there. The next morning's plan was Mount Peale.
For a day created by a failed mountain attempt, it turned out rather well. I had started with a few unexpected spare hours and finished having discovered a national park, stopped for Fremont petroglyphs, wandered through an OHV area and found yet another part of Utah I would like to return to with more time.