Even with a big breakfast to make, no one was up early to get started on their contribution to the group breakfast. I'm not complaining at all - I hadn't brought anything to contribute except my growling stomach - simply noting the anomaly. Perhaps on this trip - one where we spent more time in camp than ever before - it was to be expected that we would get a slow start on our last morning together. Whatever the reason, I took a few minutes to backup the photos I'd take so far onto my laptop, and snap a few more of the glorious morning.
The van definitely looks like a luxurious place to spend the night.
Not that this was too shabby, either!
While everyone else was catching the last of their Zzz's, packed up the tent and headed down to the main road. I wasn't leaving - I'd never do such a thing with breakfast on the way - rather, I wanted to verify that the in-camp camber adjustment that we'd done the previous evening looked good when the truck was on a reasonably smooth, level surface. Relieved to find it looking great, I returned to camp a few minutes later to the smell of Mike's @Digiratus famous cast iron potatoes.
It was the onions I was actually smelling at this point, but it didn't matter; it was divine.
Pretty soon, the crackle of Monte @Blackdawg cooking bacon filled the air.
Ultimately, we were so excited when everything was ready - Zane @Speedytech7 having cooked up some breakfast sausage, and Ben @m3bassman whipping together some "I bet you think these are eggs" from a carton along with spicy green chilis - that we completely forgot to take a photo when everything was laid out in front of us.
Ben and Maria had also brought along some locally-to-them-made tortillas that Ben had been raving about for the week leading up to the trip, as well as the trip itself. Unfortunately, he hadn't realized that freshly-made tortillas lack the preservatives of those purchased at a supermarket, and as we pulled them out of the bag, fuzzy greenish-blue spots indicated the absence of refrigeration! 
This photo from one of our first group breakfasts - back in 2019 - will have to suffice; only the hashbrowns are different than we enjoyed this time!
We always leave camp late after breakfast, which is really also lunch, if not also most of dinner, and today was no exception. It was a little after noon when Ben finally rolled over the slickrock toward Cathedral Road, the rest of us not far behind.
Getting a head start.
In hot pursuit.
Caught.
The plan for the day - which was really just an afternoon at this point - was to head northwest into Cathedral Valley. I've wanted to visit this place for years - ever since we mostly skipped it on the F.U. Rain trip back in 2018 - so I was full of anticipation as we worked our way along the nicely graded road.
A common sight.
Entering through Lower Cathedral Valley, we were immediately treated to exquisite views of sculptured monoliths with intriguing names such as the Walls of Jericho and the Temples of the Sun, Moon, and Stars. Composed of earthy, buff-pink Entrada Sandstone - deposited 160 million years ago in the Jurassic period - this fine-grained material crumbles easily and is rapidly removed by water; therefore, talus (debris) slopes do not form and Entrada cliffs tend to rise sheer from their base. Above the Entrada, the grayish-green sandstone and siltstone of the Curtis Sandstone forms a hard cap rock on some of the monoliths and higher cliffs and buttes, protecting them from erosion. Above the Curtis is the thinly-bedded, reddish-brown siltstone of the Summerville Formation.
Cathedral in development.
I just thought this was a cool formation, and didn't even realize this was a cathedral until we got closer.
Here in the Lower Valley, there was no two-ways about it, Temple of the Sun was far and away the largest and most impressive of the monoliths. Dwarfing even the nearby Temple of the Moon, it towers over 400 feet above its surrounding terrain.
Monte racing toward the temple.
Almost there.
With a few folks already wandering around the base of the temples, Ben called an audible and continued along the dead-end road - toward something labeled "Glass Mountain" on the map.
More of a mound than a mountain.
Glass Mountain is a large, exposed mound of selenite crystals. Selenite is a variety of gypsum - a common mineral found in the sedimentary rocks of this area - in the form of glassy crystals. The crystals of glass mountain are somewhat unusual in size and in the massiveness of the deposit. Formed as a result of groundwater flowing through the Entrada Sandstone, this water carried dissolved gypsum, which started to crystallize, forming what has been called a "gypsum plug." This plug is now being exposed as the soft Entrada Sandstone erodes away.
Facets.
Temple of the Sun (near) and Temple of the Moon (far) from Glass Mountain.
Keeping with the theme of visiting progressively larger attractions, we skipped Temple of the Sun for the time being, passing it a second time as we drove toward the base of Temple of the Moon. It turned out that Temple of the Moon was the more visually appealing monolith anyway, so we weren't missing much as we hopped out of our trucks to get a closer look.
Around the moon.
Three amigos.
A Western Side-blotched Lizard (Uta Stansburiana Elegans) that's a little perturbed with all the folks invading his home.
Soaking it in.
Soon enough we were back in the trucks and on our way. Radio chatter confirmed that we were happy to skip an official stop at Temple of the Sun - we'd seen it from several different angles already - instead carrying on towards Upper Cathedral Valley and the Gypsum Sinkhole. As usual, two of us lagged behind the bunch, every bend in the road seeming to offer something worth capturing on camera.
Even if we didn't stop at Temple of the Sun, we caught plenty of views.
The perfect angle always requires a bit of a trek.
Dwarfed.
Returning.
Wall Street.
I had no idea at the time - which was turning into a theme for this trip - but Ben, Maria, Mike, and Zane had already visited the sinkhole - and maybe even all the temples - during their first two days of the trip, while they'd waited for Monte and me to make an appearance. It was no surprise then, that when we finally rolled into the parking area, they let us know that we were welcome to continue along through the valley, but they were going to get to the east in search of camp, somewhere along the southern end of the San Rafael Swell.
Guarded by goblins.
The Gypsum Sinkhole is what's left when a buried gypsum plug - the same formation responsible for Glass Mountain - is dissolved by groundwater. The cavity left behind eventually collapsed under the weight of overlying rock layers, creating a large sinkhole nearly 50 feet in diameter and 200 feet deep.
Watch your step.
Leaving Monte and me to explore the remainder of the valley on our own was either going to prove pure genius or a complete disaster. On the one hand, we could move a lot faster in a band of two trucks than as a much larger caravan. On the other, there was no telling how many times we'd be distracted, putting us further and further behind as the afternoon wore on.
Sandstone caps.
Several dikes and sills were created 3-6 million years ago, as molten lava flowed into vertical joints in the sandstone and then solidified. More resistant to erosion than the surrounding layers, these backbones are slowly emerging as the sandstone around them washes away.
Don't forget to look down! (Lupine)
Our ultimate destination - if we could ever get there - was the Upper Cathedral Valley Overlook. Racing toward the switchbacks that would climb the near-vertical wall of the plateau surrounding the valley, Monte called out over the radio that there was a cool little cabin off the side of the road. I'm always down to check out a cabin, but a few seconds later, he reported a change of plans. A half-mile roundtrip, he'd have to leave the dogs in the truck, a hot proposition in the afternoon sun. Still, I couldn't resist checking it out myself!
Intriguing. 
This cabin, built in the 1920s, originally stood at Paul Christensen's summer logging camp on Thousand Lake Mountain, several miles west of here. There it sheltered the Christensen family of eight during the work season. In 1932, cattleman Lesley Morrell bought the cabin for use in his livestock operation. He numbered each log, then dismantled the cabin, hauled the pieces down the mountainside in a horse-drawn wagon, and rebuilt the cabin on this site. For the next 40 years, the cabin was used by cowboys when they moved livestock each summer to mountain pasture and each winter to valley rangeland. Returning to the shelter after a day's work, the cowboys would let their horses into the nearby pole corral, wash up, and fix dinner before bunking down.
Morrell Line Cabin
Western hospitality dictated that the cabin be kept furnished and stocked with food, open to all who needed shelter or a meal. "Les's cabin," as it was locally known, was for years a landmark and meeting place for all who worked in the vicinity. Use of the building ended by 1970 as grazing allotments in the area were restructured. The cabin still serves as a reminder of the area's Old West heritage.
NPS Info Sign
Solo, I made reasonably good time out and back to the cabin, and soon I was chasing Monte up the switchbacks, picking up Mike as he broadcast over the radio.
"Ben's got a flat."
We knew we were too far away to help immediately, but as the radio chatter continued, it turned out that Mike and Zane had taken the lead from Ben, so they were in no better position than Monte and me to help. Still, after a quick conversation, Monte and I figured that Ben was doing just fine, this small setback a blessing in disguise, allowing him to show off his amazing save-the-day-tire-changing skills to Maria.
And with that, we continued on to the overlook.
Cathedral Valley view.
Cathedral Mountain (left summit) and Needle Mountain (right summit).
It was 4:00pm by the time we were done gazing out over the valley, and though we could have continued on to another viewpoint a little further to the south, we decided we'd better start our race east to see if Ben had cached in on being a hero... or turned out to be a zero. It was a race that would usher us out of Capitol Reef and along the edge of the Last Chance Wilderness, eventually depositing us at the best camp site of the entire trip, a view of the entire San Rafael Swell rising - and falling again - in the distance.
For now, though, it was a matter of getting there. Hopefully - unlike Ben - with tires full of air.
Goodbye Cathedral Valley!
The Whole Story
That “faceted” rock is really interesting.
Awesome photos as usual!
Thanks Tom!
Ya, really cool.
Such a great trip with friends!
Spectacular scenery and views, soon I am hoping to do the Mighty Five in Utah. I am like you Dan, always stopping for photos as my friends give me the what's it for...lol...memories.
Kenny