I drove up to the Kolob Canyons area, hoping for a break in the clouds by late afternoon. Hiking to the top of an overlook was good exercise, but by the time I reached the end, I could see the wall of clouds to the west was not going to break. In fact, it looked like a big storm was moving in. I decided to head back to the Kolob Plateau and find a place to camp.

The sign at the Hop Valley trail head said “No Camping”. It had already started to rain and in the morning I wanted to photograph the nearby sandstone hoodoos that stood above the valley. There were no other vehicles at the trail head and no ranger station in this part of the park. I thought to myself “on a rainy night like this, I won’t be in anyones way if I just sleep in the back of my Nissan Pathfiner LE (2 wheel drive in Avalanche White). Besides, I’ll be out of here before the sun comes up in the morning. I made dinner, had a couple of beers, crawled in the back and stretched out.

Strong gusts of wind rocked the vehicle as the steady rhythm of the pouring rain began to lull me to sleep. But just as my eyes were getting heavy, I noticed lights moving in the distance. They weren’t the headlights of a vehicle, however. The were headlamps that hikers wear on their heads. Who would be up here in this remote corner of the park at 10:00PM, walking around in a pouring rain? It had to be park rangers! I was busted! “Sh*t! How am I going to talk myself out of this one????”, I thought. They approached the Pathfinder and tapped on the glass. I lowered a window just enough to see that they were not Park Rangers. Two soaking wet young men looked in and asked me where the nearest ranger station was. It turned out that they were college students visiting from New Jersey. They had started a hike that morning in a distant corner of the park and made it this far, but for some reason, no one was here to pick them up and bring them back into town. Except me.

I might have thought of turning them down, but one of them was showing signs of hypothermia and I knew that the chances of another car going by on the main road at this time of night were slim to none. I told them to go wait in the primitive outhouse at the trail head while I rearranged my gear inside of the vehicle to make enough room for them. I had to leave a one large plastic container out in the rain, but I was finally able to get just enough room to fit them both in the front passenger seat. One would have to sit on the others lap.

Strong gusts of wind and pouring rain made the drive down the narrow mountain road a challenge. Visibility was near zero at times, and there were not many guard rails or markings to designate the edge of the pavement. We finally arrived in Springdale and I dropped the two grateful hikers at a hotel. “This ain’t Jersey!” I joked as we parted ways.

The drive back up the mountain was just as challenging as it was coming down, but as the elevation increased, I encountered intermittent hail storms. Visibility was so bad that I even passed the turn off for the area that I was camping in. I turned around and finally found the small turn off.

I awoke the next morning to at least an inch of accumulated pea sized hail on the Pathfinder and in the area around me. It was still a completely dark and cloudy day, so I went back to sleep for a bit. When I did rise, I had breakfast, assembled my gear, and headed off to scout the area overlooking the valley. I was busy taking test shots of different subjects when the clouds started to dissipate, eventually revealing fresh snow covering the rugged mountain peaks in the distance.

It was time to move on to my next destination. Zion National Park was less than one hundred miles to the north, but the combination of dirt roads and indirect, winding state highways would make the trip into an almost day long drive. Additionally, there was an important Native American petroglyph site near Toroweap that I wanted to explore (I’ll post a photo of the site soon).

Zion National Park is one of the most popular parks in the U.S. The main road (Utah State Route 9) travels east-west through the park, treating visitors to some of the most spectacular scenery in the world. I always enjoy the drive, but I’ve never spent much time photographing this part of the park. Most of it is deep in a canyon, so the only time it’s exposed to light is in the middle of the day. And the large amount of tourists makes it difficult to find the solitude I’m usually looking for on these trips. This trip would be no exception. I would take route 9 right through the park and continue on to the little town of Virgin, UT, where a small sign directs travelers to a much lesser known area of Zion National Park: The Kolob Plateau.

It was already late afternoon when I reached Virgin. There was no time to waste if I was going to catch any late day light. The lower elevation areas were already in shadow, so I had to chase the sun light up the mountain. Several miles up the road, I arrived at a familial spot. I’d seen these small, apparently fire-damaged trees on my last visit to the park. They were already in shadow, but the last rays of sunlight were painting a brilliant glow upon the towering red rocks above.

This is another shot from Toroweap. When I finished shooting the double rainbow, I turned westward and began quickly walking toward a spot that I’d previously determined to be the best viewpoint for sunset. Almost as soon as I began walking this scene came into view. The way the sun filtered through the juniper pine was almost magical. This was the light I’d been looking for!

After my quick shoot, I returned to camp, ate breakfast, cleaned up and started another hike. I headed out in the opposite direction as the day before and discovered a few possibilities for future compositions. As I was returning to camp, I noticed that the sky was gradually becoming increasingly cloudy. The rain began just as I arrived at my truck. I grabbed my king-sized reclining camp chair and dragged it under an enormous sandstone overhang. With a book and a bottle of water, I sat down, reclined and was soon napping.

When I awoke, the rain had slowed and the sky was becoming a little brighter. It was time to head back to the canyon to capture the late afternoon light and sunset, if conditions allowed. It was only sprinkling as I began my walk, but as I reached the canyon’s edge it started coming down heavier and I started scanning the immediate area for any kind of shelter I could find. I spotted an area that I thought would offer protection from the rain and quickly made my way over to it. I was just catching my breath when I turned to look back toward the canyon. A HUGE double rainbow was floating above it, with one end seeming to begin directly before me at the bottom of the canyon!

I ran back to the edge and set up my gear as quickly as I could. Unfortunately, by the time I got there and was ready to shoot, part of the rainbow was gone. But I won’t complain about this shot!