Capitol Reef: Peach Pie à la mode in the Desert

This week our springtime national park tour took a hard turn into winter. Capitol Reef was our fourth snowy park in a row—Mesa Verde, Arches, Canyonlands, and now this one, all dusting us with snow when we’re trying to welcome spring. This time, though, the windshield was pelted not with snowflakes or sleet, but with what can only be described as Dippin’ Dots ‘ice cream of the future.’ Somewhere between snow and hail, it stuck to the glass and kept its spherical form, looking more like Styrofoam than precipitation.

Capitol Reef doesn’t follow the national park formula we’ve grown used to. There’s no single iconic overlook to frame for next year’s Christmas card. No cliff dwellings tucked into rock faces. A desert but not a ‘food desert.’

Instead, Capitol Reef is a 100-mile long wrinkle in the earth—literally, a geologic uplift called the Waterpocket Fold. It’s not one view. It’s all views. It’s cliffs and canyons and domes and bridges—like someone took every landscape feature they loved and laid them out end to end.

And then Mormon settlers planted fruit trees.

The story here isn’t just ancient—it’s also relatively recent. Unlike other parks where Native American history is the main human thread (and Capitol Reef certainly has some of that), here the spotlight is on a small Mormon community that planted roots—quite literally. Ten families lived here in Fruita for decades, coaxing apple, cherry, and peach orchards out of desert ground, irrigating with hand-dug channels and perseverance.

Those trees were blooming as we watched the snow fall.

Against a backdrop of red cliffs dusted with snow, the spring blossoms looked wildly out of place—and beautiful for it. Like a misplaced postcard from Georgia pasted onto a painting of Mars. We walked past one of the old homesteads and couldn’t believe our luck: the shop had fresh peach pie. Made with local peaches. In the middle of nowhere. In the middle of a snowstorm. That kind of contrast has a way of waking you up—and making you hungry.

We stuck to a few short hikes—Goosenecks and Sunset Point—both easy walks to stunning views, with just enough movement to keep the blood flowing in the 30-degree air. We didn’t venture too far. Something about snow actively falling on desert cliffs makes you want to stay a little closer to the car heater than usual.

But there’s something to be said for a park that surprises you. Capitol Reef doesn’t beg for attention. It just stretches out along the horizon, full of stories, full of human persistence, full of subtle beauty.

We may not have the perfect photo for the holiday card. But we do have our first National Park homemade desert dessert. And it came with Dippin Dots ice cream from the heavens.