I’ve scaled the peaks at mighty Yosemite. I’ve stood atop the lofty falls of Zion
National Park, a place of such beauty some call it “Yosemite in color.” I’ve skied the shimmering surface of Lake Powell. And I hated every minute of it.
National Park, a place of such beauty some call it “Yosemite in color.” I’ve skied the shimmering surface of Lake Powell. And I hated every minute of it.