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Three goblin sentinels guard the entrance to the Valley of the Goblins Fuji X-T20, Fujinon XC 50-230mm f4.8-6.3 OIS lens |
The Valley of the Goblins
Louise had heard from an old high school classmate about a Utah State Park called Goblin Valley. It sounded interesting, and since the turn-off was not far from we were eating dinner at Green River we decided to make a side trip south on Utah State Highway 24 to the park.
The Valley of the Goblins is a relatively little-known but fascinating place. Since it's off the beaten track it's probably mostly visited by locals and people who heard about it from someone else, as we did.
We arrived there about mid-afternoon, and if we had known then what we know now, we would have made arrangements to camp at the park for the night. But we were eager to move on to Bryce Canyon National Park the next day and then Zion National Park. So we didn't.
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The Valley of the Goblins Fuji X-T1, Fujinon XC 16-50mm f3.5-5.6 OISII lens |
Properly known as "hoodoos," the goblins are mushroom-shaped formations created by the erosion of relatively soft sandstone away from a harder layer of rock. We followed a park road lined with goblins to the valley where the largest concentration resides, but we thought some of the most interesting and fanciful shapes were along the road rather than in the valley. Nonetheless, the valley, a sort of large bowl filled with goblins singly and in groups, is quite a spectacle and well worth the trip.
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Goblin shapes along the road to the valley. Fuji X-T20, Fujinon XC 50-230mm f4.8-6.3 OIS lens |
Since we were going back to Interstate 70 and then west, we decided that instead of going back the way we had come, we could take the Temple Mountain Road, which would bring us back to I-70 at a point further west. On the map it looked like a good idea, so off we went.
The first hint that it might not be a good idea was when the road changed from asphalt to gravel. We soon passed a campground, where we could have turned around, but decided to keep going. That was our last chance. The road wound up and up, with precipitous drops on one side or the other, and sometimes both sides. Then the road changed from gravel to bedrock slabs, each four to six inches higher than the last. And still we were climbing, at 10, 15, sometimes 20 miles-per-hour. We wondered if we would ever get to the top.
Eventually, we did. All 6,773 feet of it. Then down the other side, which, thankfully, was not as rough or scary, and finally, back to I-70. Miraculously, our truck and travel trailer were still intact.
By this time it was well after dark and we were well behind schedule, so we kept going. Around midnight, we came to a place called Selina, where U.S. 89, the route to Bryce Canyon and Zion parks intersected with I-70, pulled into an all-night Flying J truck stop, found a place to park as far from the action as possible, and crashed for a not-very-restful night.
Blog Note: I post Monday, Wednesday, and Friday mornings at alifeinphotography.blogspot.com. I'm trying to build up my readership, so if you're reading this on Facebook and like what I write, would you please consider sharing my posts?
(Photographs copyright David B. Jenkins 2020)
Soli Gloria Deo
To the glory of God alone
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