Rock Canyon Rocks

The first month of living in Utah was spent at the Residence Inn in Provo.

One room. Two people. Two dogs. One cat.

(Officially, this cat did not exist. This non-existent cat was never smuggled by suitcase into the Residence Inn after two crated days of cross country travel. It did not escape from the suitcase, scurrying into darkness and shrubs next to the very IMG_0030 copybusy, four-lane main street clogged with post-BYU-football traffic.  And it was definitely not me, on my belly, crawling through the bushes to retrieve the freaked-out, nonexistent cat.)

The dogs and I liked to spend a lot of time outdoors. We relied heavily on Rock Canyon as a daily balm for our cramped quarters.

Rock Canyon is heavily frequented by hikers, mountain bikers, and especially climbers. You might think you had the place to yourself, but pause and listen.

You’ll hear voices above and below. You’ll pick out quiet conversations being bounced off the walls. There are scads of climbers. It’s like sitting down in a field of grass, but then spotting all the crawling creatures.  Nice, crawly creatures.

Rock Canyon will always be dear to my heart. It saved our sanity, for sure. But it’s also a great example of urban refuge and how governments and citizens can keep places like this clean, vibrant, and available: the city of Provo maintains the trailhead and the National Forest takes care of the trail (which leads into the Uinta National Forest.)
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