"Catch a wave and you're sitt'in on top of the world," especially if the wave is red and warm.
Unless you are a newbie to the BCB, you've seen this favorite destination hike before. You've seen the impossible blue skies, Utah's version of the White Cliffs of Dover, and watched us part The Red Sea of Sandstone. You've marveled along with us, shook your head in disbelief, swore an oath to "go there" and see in person before you croak. You've emailed me and asked how to get there, only to get a reply full of cryptic hints and misdirection. I apologize.
|Most of the weight of this angled boulder is on the smallest/weakest support. I'm amazed to find it still standing every year.|
Sometimes we stumble across a place so unique and "sensitive" that I feel remiss at sharing it to the world. Tripod Rocks is one of those places. There use to be three Tripod Rocks, you see, all side by side, each uncannily suspended and balanced on a tripod of softer soil. It's unusual to find one such boulder so delicately suspended and spitting in the face of "odds." But to find three within a few feet of each other? Supernatural.
A couple of years ago we found that one of the trio of Tripod Rocks had fallen off its delicate supports. It could have been a natural occurrence, but what if some fool climbed up on it to get their picture taken, or worse, just pushed it over like that Boy Scout leader did to similar freaks of nature over in Goblin Valley?
I trust you won't hold it against me. Nature holds so many secrets, and if you ramble around enough… off trail… you can find them just as we have. Or, if you happen by our annual camp some nice November day, perhaps, after a thorough vetting, I will personally guide you to them. Anyone willing to descend miles into a deep, steep canyon in order to see a couple of rocks balanced on tripods of dried mud can't be all bad :).
"We have much to learn by studying nature, and taking the time to tease out its secrets." (David Suzuki)