When orchards on the Fremont bloom (Capital Reef National Park)

 

There’s a pecking order to the Utah Five national parks. It’s easy to pair off Canyonlands and Archest or Zion and Bryce Canyon. 

By lacking a nearby dance partner, Capitol Reef gets the short shrift. It sits by itself, away from the interstate and down one windy canyon road. It still gets its visitors and rightly so.

I emerged to field of massive red rock formations after Torrey. I hiked to a short rise above the highway crossing the park, and soaked in the majesty.  There I spoke with an Asian man while at an overlook. He told me the name didn’t make sense until he got up there and recognized the red-rock formations whose shape more some resemblance to the U.S. Capitol building. Time, erosion, and water have carved the Colorado Plateau red rock into intricate mesas and buttes. 

A chill stuck in the air. Capitol Reef felt as if it was still waking up. I didn’t mind. I had no patience for anyone wanting to rush me in this exquisite place. I would rather watch the falcons soar and the Fremont River churn astride the Fruita orchards. 

The attractions of the other Utah national parks also require less of a geology lesson than Capitol Reef does. The Waterpocket Fold, a 100-mile wrinkle in the Earth whose origins reach back 280 million years. This fold of red rock runs down to Lake Powell. 

The Capitol Dome formation’s loose resemblance to the U.S. Capitol gave the park its name. These days most people would agree that central Utah’s version is superior. 

The combination of the Fremont River’s water – its confluence with Sulphur Creek is at the center of Capitol Reef - and the rock formation’s large shadows made agriculture possible in this dry region. For nearly a thousand years ago, ancestral tribes settled on these lush lands, leaving multiple petroglyphs as evidence of their culture. 

The might Fremont

Dry winter has not kept the Fremont down. 

Along with numerous buildings from the former Fruita settlement, the park services has maintained the fruit orchards begun more than 100 years ago. During the summer, one can buy pies made from the orchard fruit or pay to pick fruit from whatever trees have ripe fruit. In early April, the trees continued to leaf out. I only had seen the orchards in winter. 

Resilient Chinese wisteria

This time, the promise of spring and future fruit crops ran deep. I took a short hike along the Fremont, its currents surprisingly swift despite the dry winter. The sun hit the rocks and gradually descended upon the fruit trees. There seemed enough water from the Fremont to ensure a decent crop come summer.  

Near the orchards in a flat, wooded park, a rail fence blocked off a gnarled tree covered in old vines. This Chinese wisteria had been thought dead by park officials, then started blooming again in 2010. On this morning the pale purple blossoms emitted some wondrous scents. 

As I traveled east up the Fremont’s canyon, despite all the geologic wonder that curved with the river, the fragrant wisteria aroma that heralded spring stayed with me most.