Bryce Canyon When I woke up, Terry was laying on the deflated half of his air mattress. The other half, still partially inflated, jutted into the air and hit me in the face every time he moved, which was often. I stumbled my way through the cold morning air to the camp bathroom and was greeted by a far-too-cheerful-for-the-sun-not-being-up-yet Australian man. “G’day, mate!” at high volume in the early morning is a bit grating.

The Pools of Disappointment After visiting the world’s worst ventilated vault latrine we made a slow drive back into Zion Canyon, stopping along the way to take pictures of the sun hitting the tops of the mesas. Walking off the pavement I was quickly reminded that desert plants are unfriendly – even the grass is pointy and sharp. We reached the main park about 9AM and boarded a shuttle to the interior (cars aren’t allowed).