Arches National Park - Day 2

I woke up at the Devils Garden Campground, which sits in a quiet, beautiful part of the park. The sites are well maintained and mostly level, and the whole place felt orderly without feeling overly developed. There were trash bins and restrooms just a couple hundred feet from my site, close enough to be convenient but far enough away to keep things quiet. Only seven other campers had stayed in the campground the night before, so the morning felt unhurried and calm.

I slept in later than usual and didn’t wake up until around 9 a.m. After making coffee, I walked around the campground for a bit just to see how it was laid out. Part of the campground was closed off, which I assumed was for routine maintenance. It wasn’t busy, and there was no sense of anyone rushing to get anywhere. I finally packed up and left the site around noon, ready for a hike.

I drove further up valley to the Devils Garden Trailhead and headed out toward Landscape Arch. The air was clear and crisp, the kind of dry winter air that makes it easy to slow down and just breathe.

wasn’t in any hurry and walked at an easy pace, stopping often to look around. The sky was cloudless, the rock formations sharp and clean in the light. At one point, a black bird sat high above on a massive rock formation, calling out occasionally. I stopped and watched it for a while, and there was a quiet sense of being noticed rather than being alone.

Along the trail, I spoke briefly with a couple, and the woman offered me directions for when I reached Landscape Arch. What made it funny was that this was her first visit as well—they were visiting from Minnesota and navigating it all for the first time, just like me.

When I reached the arch, I took my photos, fully aware I was probably capturing the same image that millions of people have taken before. Still, standing there in person makes it feel earned. Nearby, I noticed someone with a very solid-looking tripod in his backpack and asked what brand it was. He turned and asked his father below us, speaking what sounded like Swiss German. They turned out to be from the Tyrol region of Austria. The tripod was a heavy Swiss Arca model. The father had been a professional photographer and was now retired. His son did some photography himself but was clearly there to carry the gear and help out. It struck me as a pretty great arrangement.

We ended up walking the mile and a half back to the trailhead together, talking photography the whole way—gear, shooting locations, and BMW shoots. By the time we reached the parking lot, it felt like we’d known each other longer than we actually had. We said our goodbyes, and I wished them a good trip. They were headed next to the Wave in Arizona and had secured one of the thirty permits for a specific day.

By around 3 p.m., I was back on the road, driving slowly toward Moab. I filled up the gas tank and then spent some time driving around town, including a few of the quieter back streets. I eventually stopped at the diner on Main Street. The food was fine, and I was mostly just glad I didn’t have to cook.

Somewhere along the way, I realized I was completely out of water. That realization immediately narrowed my focus, and I headed straight to the Maverik gas station. One of my apps indicated they offered free water fill-ups for vans, and I had already bought gas there. There were cars blocking the area where the water faucet was located and they all moved within 10 minutes.

The next day, I planned to head to Canyonlands National Park. I found a BLM spot a couple of miles before the entrance, reached by a dirt access road that was mostly sand but had very few ruts or rocks. There was no one else there, and it was absolutely quiet—not a sound. I had hoped to capture some star shots, but there were too many clouds, and the moon was still fairly bright.