Bryce Canyon

We put our national parks membership to good use this past May as we climbed/hiked/rode horses through Utah! One of our stops was in Bryce Canyon National Park. The day before, we had hiked the Subway at Zion (a harrowing tale that involves being lost at night with no light source and no cell service while hanging onto the side of a cliff…a story for another day I suppose), so we were exhausted and wanted to give our calloused hands and heels a break. Daryl booked us horse-back riding tours of Bryce Canyon so we set off for a nice relaxing and romantic day.

Or so I thought.

Apparently, teetering on the back of a large mammal as it teeters hazardously on a steep and narrow path along the side of a canyon is not as relaxing as I had imagined. But let’s start from the beginning shall we…

I’m not really sure what I expected, but I definitely didn’t expect to be greeted by a large group of cowboys (boots and gallon hats and all) who beckoned me into the fenced-in area occupied by a huge herd of horses. I looked down at my white Northface jacket and at the extra-slimy post-rain mud and resigned myself to whatever messy, smelly fun was ahead.

We were informed by the cowboys that they were all named after ex-wives

We were informed by the cowboys that they were all named after ex-wives

Me, probably reacting to 1) the squelch of my Nikes in the mud or 2) the beautiful aroma of horse poop

Me, probably reacting to 1) the squelch of my Nikes in the mud or 2) the beautiful aroma of horse poop

Me, pretending that I don’t have a fear of heights while also guesstimating the number of bones I’d break if I fell off

Me, pretending that I don’t have a fear of heights while also guesstimating the number of bones I’d break if I fell off

The cowboys picked our horses (Edsel and Red River), gave me a big hoist onto my gentle giant, and rambled through basic instructions on how to ride a horse. My only experience with horses was with birthday party ponies as a little girl and riding around an enclosure once in college, so I probably shouldn’t have nodded as fervently as I did when he asked me if I had done this before. I leaned forward to whisper into Edsel’s ear whether she knew what she was doing. She did somewhat of a huffy snort so I took that as a good sign. As we left the corral, we trotted down a nice and easy flat path flanked by fences on both side. So far, so good.

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Suddenly, we turned the corner and started our descent to the bottom of the canyon. And what what a descent it was! Some parts of the path were so steep, narrow, and slippery that the horses all but slid through the mud down the side of the canyon. There were a few hair pin turns that also had my heart racing. If Edsel decided to turn rebellious and misplace one hoof I felt like we would both go tumbling down to our demise. I whispered positive affirmations and encouragement the whole time and she did great. She must have been a seasoned tour guide because I had no idea what I was doing didn’t even try to steer her. The cowboys took us through the most beautiful parts of the canyon and taught us very questionable history (they were very silly cowboys). The views were stunning.

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If the cowboy thing doesn’t pan out he could certainly pursue a career in photography

If the cowboy thing doesn’t pan out he could certainly pursue a career in photography

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We bid farewell to the horses and cowboys, bought a souvenir picture (because we are those people), and had lunch at the cabin. The tour was fantastic and I would highly recommend it to anyone travel that way!

That’s all for now.

Peace, love, and safe travels,

Helen