My Search for Happiness

             There I stood last Friday, surveying the commercial campground of Palisade State Park. It was already past noon and campsites were going fast. The woman at the entrance of the park was nice enough to allow me to check out the three remaining available camp spots before I committed to staying for two nights. While I weighed my options, four children on scooters and bikes rode past laughing and screaming. I had a tough decision to make: take the cramped, groomed square of grass with a barbeque stand next to the reservoir, or continue searching, possibly unfruitfully.

            Earlier in the week I had planned on visiting the Little Lyman Lake area in the Uintas for a nice fishing trip, but bad weather forced me to look for warmer options a bit south of Northern Utah. After some online searching, I found some places of interest in the Manti-La Sal Mountains, namely Joe’s Valley Reservoir and Pete’s Hole. Both appeared to have good fishing conditions and the surrounding area looked beautiful.

            Well, the area was beautiful. Especially the miniature glaciers that blocked the access road to my destinations. Despite my disappointment at the impossibility of reaching a suitable campground, I still managed to cast my fishing line out a few times into a tiny lake near Skyline Drive called John August Lake. I didn’t catch anything, but it helped ease my frustration and allowed me to build up enough motivation to start a new search for a camping/fishing spot in a region that I was completely unfamiliar with.

            By the time I reached Gunnison, the landscape had become too desert-like and I ended up heading north again. So there I was at my next stop: Palisade State Park. It seemed futile to continue searching, and there were only three spots left at the state park. And it was afternoon. On the Friday of Memorial Day Weekend. The situation was looking bleak. After about fifteen minutes of deliberation, I decided against staying at Palisade State Park. I could tell that the campground would be full of noise all weekend and that privacy in such a place would be nonexistent. I would rather set up my tent next to the roadside than deal with the “cozy” quarters I was currently faced with.

            Boy, am I glad I moved on. The very next site I came across was pure heaven. I would tell you where it was, but it was too much of a happy surprise for me to just give out the information. The campground was secluded and only had nine sites, only three of which even became occupied during my visit. The site I chose was tucked back behind some trees and was completely hidden from the view of any of the other sites. Plus, there was a trail behind my picnic table that led directly down to the reservoir that my campsite overlooked.

            Between Friday and Sunday I thought multiple times about how fortunate I had been in finding what I would call “the perfectly groomed campsite, which still retained the look and feel of ‘roughing it.’” I also thought about how miserable I would have been surrounded by the roar of watercraft and screaming children at Palisade State Park. What really surprises me, though, is that despite all of my research and planning, I ended up staying at a place that was a last-minute discovery and relatively undocumented on the Internet. I suppose some things in life must be kept secret in order to preserve their beauty and appeal. Needless to say, I will be returning to that campsite, and I’m sure it will make me just as happy as the first time I discovered it.