Bryce Canyon was named after Ebenezer Bryce, who first settled the area. It is not actually a canyon though, but an “amphitheater” of cliffs, hoodoos and pinnacles in pink and orange. What a place. I am running out of superlatives to describe the sights we have seen.
We left the motorhome at about 9 a.m. and parked at the shuttle parking lot just outside the park. We had about a 20-minute wait for the shuttle to arrive. Met a couple from France, who Tom asked if he could take their picture for them. This set the stage for the remainder of the day. Whenever he saw a couple or family he asked if they wanted their picture taken. What a nice guy.
The shuttle is the way to go. Get on get dropped off, get on again. No muss, no fuss.
Unfortunately the shuttle does not go to the far end of the park, which is about 20 miles from the visitor center. So we did the shuttle stops in the morning and because we were so close to the campground went home for lunch and then went back and toured the remainder of the park using the car.
We did mostly the scenic overviews but we did attempt one trail. We knew we wouldn’t be able to make the entire thing and after we got on the trail and began walking down we encountered those coming up gasping for breath. Not just older people but young thin and very fit looking folks. So we decided to go down a little way and come back. The trail switch-backed, the railings disappeared and we came back shortly after that. We did see one young lady who was coming up the trail wearing a dress and flip-flops. I can’t imagine she went very far dressed like that.