Nine Miles is More Like 40

Morning arrives and it’s a good thing the sun is shining. It’s significantly colder. I wonder if we’ll need to scrape ice from the windshield. After a basic free hotel breakfast we discover that we’re spared the scraping detail, but it is c-c-cold!  We drive back to the entry of Nine Mile Canyon, encouraged by the clear skies. Make no Mistake–Nine Mile Canyon is 40 miles long. Those who have asked the question blame the original cartographers who used a nine-mile transect for mapping the area. No matter. I’ve wanted to see this place since I was a little kid and here I am now.

We easily passed the areas where snow blew in our path the day before. None of it stuck and the drive along the paved road is an easy one. This is the first discrepancy I notice from descriptions I read in the 70s. It’s paved. Back then, the rough unpaved road was seen as one of the few features that would preserve the area. I recall that forces battled over preservation and protect and individual property owner rights.

We have a map brochure that provides mileages to many of the more impressive panels of rock etchings and ruins. Our necks tire from looking out and up, rubbernecking as we drive because the ancient graffiti is EVERYWHERE!  We approach a popular stop and observe evidence of the old battle of rights: a beautiful pictograph possibly of a whale(?) with a notice of private property ownership stenciled in spray paint over it. Seriously? It’s disappointing to see deliberate destruction because IT’S MINE!

We spend several hours taking in this enormous canyon gallery exhibit of “street art.” As we approach one bend in the road there is a herd of cows grazing. Their moo’s echo off the cliff. One cow in particular moos loudly and frequently as if completely amused with his echo. It’s laughable and reminds me of the two mountain goats in the animated Brother Bear who keep talking back to their echos. “No, you shut up!”

We stop to visit a ruin of a Freemont village and get a great workout walking all over the hillside. There’s a circular depression in the ground in one spot. Is that it? Maybe it’s over here? There’s a rock outcropping with ancient paint hand prints. Is that it? Maybe it’s tucked closer to the vertical wall? We leave not quite certain if we saw it or not. Around the corner is the petroglyph of the famous pregnant buffalo. In the brochure you can clearly see the tiny buffalo inside momma. I squint as hard as I can…I don’t see any baby. Along this wall the etchings continue, but barbed wire fences block the path keeping us from seeing the art.

We reach the Great Hunt panel. There’s no mistaking it. It’s big and beautiful. After this point, thought the smooth paved road continues, we turn back. Today is our day to return to Salt Lake City, visit one of Jason’s nieces for about an hour before returning the car and checking in to the hotel. What a great foray into this yellow and red story-filled land. It joins many other places on our plan-to-return list. Of course, the Horseshoe Unit of Canyonlands and Rainbow Bridges top that list!