![]() ![]() Which, yay nature and all of that, but I kind of felt mislead if the whole route of the trail was to lead us to this WOW moment that doesn’t exist any more. ![]() So then we are finally told that really, due to drought, and the fact that it was manipulated somewhat in the years leading up to the conservation movement, it’s actually now becoming a permanent meadow. So I asked what season was the prime one to see it, knowing the answer would likely be spring, which indeed it was. When I questioned the guide about this I was told it was a “seasonal” lake. This was a ride to the acclaimed Mirror Lake, featured on many of the postcards in the Visitor’s Center and otherwise unreachable except by steep uphill hike or shuttle. We passed some nice viewpoints of Half Dome and Quarter Dome, but it was really too foggy to see them well.Īnd then, the highlight of the excursion. It was basically like having an Annie I could sit on.īut the ride itself was great and we passed through some tall pines and lovely scenery… Samson likes to stop a lot and eat, and needed to be pulled firmly away. Oh, and I had said my one requirement was an easy mule that didn’t need a firm hand. In the end, my original mule didn’t even have an assigned rider. Then, after I picked one and took selfies with it and everything, I was told there was a change and they needed that mule for someone else so I had to pick a new one. Ten minutes later I was told to just go bond with the mules and just pick whichever one I wanted. Then I spent 5 minutes watching a “safety” video that had the sound down to an almost unhearable level and basically said “You must wear the helmet that we require you to wear, and you might get hurt so don’t sue us, but you almost definitely won’t, so enjoy!” When I asked about the need for weight precision, I was told it was because the mules are so finely calibrated they are designed to carry a specific weight. They claimed it was for “orientation”, when in reality I spent 45 minutes of the time: waiting while they answered phone calls, waiting for the computer that processed credit cards to come back up, waiting for other people to fill out forms because you can’t fill them out while you’re waiting your turn, and actually having to get on a scale to confirm my weight. Then I had to arrive an HOUR before the ride (in Bryce it was 15 minutes). Now I understand I likely need to be over 18 and under a certain poundage, but beyond that why the specifics of things many folks are uncomfortable providing? I’m not, but it still took me aback. On the phone I needed to give my exact age and exact weight. In trying to find a route to drive to a different area of the park, I stumbled upon the stables, and, since I enjoyed my ride into Bryce Canyon so much, thought it might be fun to repeat the experience here. The campground here crowds everyone in a bit closer than the ones in other National Parks, and I’m parked next to some clueless older men who have no concept of personal space, and even tried to tell me Annie was a bulldog (?!), but to the right I have only lovely views of pines and dogwoods in bloom. The rain had stopped by the time we woke up, but it was still a bit gray and damp. (Events of Friday, April 24th, blogged Tuesday April 28th) ![]()
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