Cedar Breakdown: Cedar Breaks Nat'l Monument 7/2/11

The whole idea behind a rental car is that it relieves you of the worries of your own vehicle, including adding hard road trip mileage to an already overburdened engine. Until now, we've always taken for granted that a rental will, because of its relative new-ness, take on every challenge with nary a peep, sputter, or gripe. Again, until now. Thanks to Enterprise, and our good friends at Toyota, that long streak of carefree rentals has come to an end. On the way to Cedar Breaks National Monument, a high-altitude wonder pushing beyond 10,000 oxygen-deprived feet, our car decided it would take its own vacation from running properly. As we climbed up the steep grades along Highway 143 through the Brian Head ski resort, the car bucked, spit, and died right there on an unusually difficult uptick. Fearing a dead battery or something of that sort, I started and re-started the car, at one point slamming the accelerator to the floor. Even when the car remained fired, putting it into drive immediately brought about the herky-jerky action that ended in a stall. Were we really stuck on this damned mountain? Not yet at our destination and far too committed to turn back? Could we, perhaps, coast down the hill? Walk to the visitor center? Flag down a car and ask to be driven off a cliff?

Thankfully, and against all odds, Brooke's cell phone had service in this no man's land, and we contacted Enterprise. After an incredulous moment or two in the face of (gulp) perhaps having to ask a taxi to pick us up, or even wait roadside while a new car was brought all the way from Las Vegas, I decided to give the car one more try. After all, it had been quiet for about a half-hour at that point, and we had nothing left to believe in. Not only did it start, but it began to move. I had no idea how long this good fortune would last, so I hit the gas with cautious optimism and Brooke finished up with Enterprise. They'd still bring a new car our way, but we told them to have it ready at our hotel in Cedar City, which was twenty or so miles down the long, steep highway. Needless to say, two of the pullouts before the visitor center - Chessman Ridge Overlook and Sunset View - while beautiful, were only casually noticed, as we were pretty much certain the car was going to die again at any moment. We looked, but we did not inhale. My hatred for this car was growing by the minute.

Good god, is that the visitor center? It was like an oasis before us, beckoning our bitter, weary souls with the respite of unparalleled views. We knew that even if the car blew itself up from here on, we'd have completed this leg of the journey with photos and passport stamps firmly secured. The site was remarkably busy (it is close to a fairly large town), the air crisp and fresh, and the walk from the parking lot both unoppressive and easy. Point Supreme, clocking in at 10,350 feet, is the main attraction, and the best possible view of the Cedar Breaks amphitheater. At first blush, it's almost unreal in its staggering beauty, even if it's just, as some might say, a poor man's Bryce Canyon. I would never be so dismissive, of course, but it's not entirely unfair to suggest that it is a bit of a haul for what amounts to a single eye-popping location. One can hike (there are two highcountry trails that are not advisable for fatties, especially at this altitude), but it's enough to take it all in from the safety of level ground.

The visitor center, despite being a haven after a heartless drive, is damn near obsolete, what with its Depression-era origins and impossibly small interior. It's more akin to a closet, and don't even think about asking for displays or a park film. It's enough that they have magnets and the passport station, but with this site pretty much closed half the year, perhaps it makes sense to keep things modest. Check around the internet and you're bound to find a photo of the VC in winter, where snow drifts all but reach the building's roof. Because it's only possible to kill five minutes within its log cabin-like walls, the VC is quickly abandoned for the aforementioned overlook. From right to left, one is left to behold spires, columns, arches, and canyons, and the iron and manganese bring about a stunning mix of red, yellow, and purple that seems impossible in anyplace but the Utah mountains.

So did we get the total experience at Cedar Breaks? You need to ask? The place stands tall in its own right, and should not suffer for being in such close proximity to Bryce, but given our frazzled nerves, I'm still not sure I'd have been in the right frame of mind had five hundred naked beach bunnies risen up from the monument's floor to escort me to a massage table. We were stressed, paranoid, and still not out of the woods, and from that unsatisfying position, we all but pushed through on autopilot. That said, Cedar Breaks, while not necessarily a destination spot, must be on anyone's radar when visiting the Beehive State. Perhaps we too will be back again some day, less troubled, no doubt, and driving our own blasted car, mileage be damned.

FINAL RATING

7.5/10