Wednesday, August 18, 2010

8 Ways on How NOT to Die in the Southern Utah Desert

There are two remarkably simple yet easily prevented ways to die in the desert during the hot summer months. (Check out Craig Childs' fascinating book on this subject for more in-depth analysis and tales.)


1) Thirst
2) Drowning


The first one seems obvious, of course. Deserts = dry, godforsaken places in most minds. But are you remotely surprised by #2? Then read on.


My desert home rests at almost 7,000 feet, making it a "high desert." We have the usual four seasons, although spring is sometimes lamentably short. We also have a fifth season, monsoon, which this year seemed to overtake our summer. Midsummer thunderstorms, part of the wild southern Utah monsoon season, are commonplace in mountains. Here, they usually happen in the afternoon, or so my creaky memory attests. This year, for about two weeks they happened morning, noon, and night, lasted all day, lasted all night, brought not only torrential rain but the drifting clouds and fog that made me think we were in Scotland instead of southern Utah.

(the very fierce heart of a summer monsoon)


The result was much greenery (and, frankly, much bitching from many residents during lawnmowing time) and much, much water. In a desert environment such as this one (high clay content in the soil, low saturation levels), water from the sky doesn't absorb into the ground very quickly or much. If it did, we'd be Oregon.




What does unsaturated water do? It flows above ground. During or soon after a big storm, it flows damn fast. Flash floods are awesome, gorgeous, terrifying, oddly smelly, loud, powerful, and often quite unexpected to the hikers they overtake. Or so I'm told. I've never been close to a major one. Part of me wants to. Part of me says, thank god. Don't wanna see one after some of the stories I've heard. Watching a small one and allowing my imagination to grow it exponentially is enough for me.
Point is, during the summer you can get really, really thirsty in the desert (seems duh, but it can happen), or you can get really, really wet and cold, and even swept away by a raging wall of water. Most people never think about the second possibility, especially not when they're hiking on a hot August day.


So without further ado, here's how you go about avoiding these demises should you choose to go adventuring in the southern Utah desert during a scorching summer month.


4 Ways to Not Die of Thirst in the Desert


1) Drink water. I'm serious! Bring it, drink it, pee it out, drink it more. If you're not peeing clear, you're dehydrated. People come from lower elevations, they never drink water at home, they survive on sugary caffeinated drinks, yadda yadda yadda. I don't care. A gallon of water per person per day is the rule of thumb, if you're out all day. Bonus tip: add an electrolyte to your water, such as Camelbak Elixir or Emergen-C. Keep those electrolytes flowing, baby. All water and no salts in your body (hyponatremia) can also make for a very unhappy day.


2) Know where you're going. You can drink all the water you have on you, but if you get lost on the way to wherever you're heading, that might not be enough to help you survive. Especially because deserts, as we know, are deserts because they don't have a lot of water hanging around in the form of streams or lakes to drink from. Know the trail, take a guide, be familiar with map and compass skills, use your GPS (don't rely on those things, though--yes, I'm a skeptic), use your noggin. Not sure if you veered off trail? Stop. Backtrack following your actual tracks until you're positive of your whereabouts. Then either keep going if you're sure, or go back to your car.


3) Wear proper clothing. Light colors, light weave, loose fit. Synthetics good, cotton bad. Hiking in tight, dark, heavy clothes (yes, that means jeans) traps your sweat, makes you feel icky, and can actually help you reach a state of hyperthermia. (Also known by the pleasant names of heat stroke, heat exhaustion, etc.)
4) Pay attention to your body. Got any of this going on? Breathing heavily, rapid pulse (feel your wrist or the side of your neck--gently on the neck, though!), light-headed, tired, flushed skin. These can all be signs of impending dehydration. Sit down, drink up, and recover. Think about heading back if you don't feel better.


4 Ways to Not Drown in the Desert


1) Avoid slot canyons when it's cloudy, raining locally (as in, on your head), raining nonlocally (as in, as many as 40 miles away from you, which might still be close enough to send nonsaturating water roaring down your canyon while you're in it), local officials (say, those park rangers who know the area better than you do) tell you they don't advise canyon travel, or you just don't have a good feeling about it. It can rain miles away and the water can still collect and rush right over your beautiful, enclosed, inescapable trail. Be safe, not dead.
(yes, I'm in a slot canyon, there's water in it, and I'm smiling. Slot canyons can be great fun, of course! Didn't actually go much farther in this one because the water got over our heads and I was too nervous about not being able to see what the sky was doing overhead. A storm had boomed through the area the night before.)


2) Don't drive your car across a wash, dry or running, if the weather threatens a storm. Even low levels of water can suck your tires into the mud, or quickly rise to levels that don't allow for escape. And if it's dry now, I can guarantee that it won't be shortly after if it starts to rain hard on you.


3) Stay high and dry. Stay away from low areas. Need I say more? *Note: but watch out for high areas if it's actively storming and lightning is striking. Oh, mama nature...


4) Keep your ears open if you are in a canyon, even on  bluebird day. If there's a storm far away or if it builds while you're in the canyon and you can't see it, flash floods will announce themselves with a sound akin to a freight train barreling down, or a jet plane passing about, oh, ten feet overhead. Floods are loud. You hear a sound like that where no such sounds should be, move. Fast. *Check out this video to see flash floods in action. Notice the deceptive blue sky above in many of the shots!*


Pretty basic stuff, but don't forget it. But also don't let all this scare you away either! Come visit, marvel at the gorgeous landscapes, explore. Just be safe when it's monsoon season in southern Utah's canyon country.

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Friday, July 30, 2010

It's Thundering...Must be Summer

I love the midsummer thunderstorms we get here. They're huge, awesome, loud, rolling, drenching, dark, kind of scary sometimes. Looks like another great one is building right up this afternoon over the Boulder. If I get any good pictures I'll post them. I almost got out the other day during a big storm to see if anything was flashing that I might photograph, but that didn't pan out. It would be interesting to see a flash flood...from a very, very safe distance.

In the meantime, cruise over and check out my latest blog post for NileGuide, on the Top 5 Hidden Gems at Zion National Park. Any disagreements? Suggestions? Better local hidden gems? Shoot them my way. I'm always open to new things! (Well, within reason. Ha.)
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Monday, April 05, 2010

and the seasons, they go round n' round...

Ah. So much, recently. Too much for here. But a few things in my life are as thus:

My Babcia, my grandmother, died on Good Friday. I think she would have been highly pleased by the fact that Pope John Paul II also died on Good Friday, five years ago. I'm not as happy at the moment. Of course, I want more time with her. Have recriminations. Wish some things had gone differently. Want to hug her one more time, take away the pain she had to endure during the last year or so, and see those magnificently blue eyes once again as she smiles at me with so much love. But what can I do? Not much except honor her memory, cherish her in my heart, remember her always, and see her lifeblood in my own hands and skin and body. And that's kind of cool. And that's also all I have to say about it right now.

My new blog has 9 posts on it now. Yowza! Much more than here, though those are very specific and not quite as, ah, rambling as some of my posts on here tend toward. Cruise over there if so inclined, leave a comment, and let me know what you think.

It is snowing here again today. Really! Complete whiteout earlier. A bit mind-boggling, really. Ah, springtime. In like a lion, etc. etc. Indeed. Matches my moods and situations from the past few months. Am I ever ready for some settling down and smoothing of the cruel, rough edges.

Peace, Babcia. Hope things are going well where you are. I know you're seeing Ronan now. And I definitely feel you with me.

Hug your grandmas, all. Really. Even if it's just from afar.
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Friday, March 19, 2010

introducing a new blog!

I mentioned in another post that I would soon be sharing another blog with the world. (To be more precise, with all 14 of you faithful readers out there. Hee.) Anyway...drumroll please....

Introducing my NileGuide Blog! I am super stoked about this. The folks over at Nile Guide have been nothing but enthusiastic, helpful, fun, and supportive of their Local  Experts. (Such as moi. Hey, that's very cool, I just realized...I can put the word "expert" on my resume in an official capacity. Sweet!) My first post on it, Rollin' Through Bryce Canyon on a Fat Tire, just went live today. Again, very excited.

(photo courtesy of Tim Brink)

This blog, my Red  Rock Writer blog, of course is my much more personal one, the one of my heart and soul and angst and hope and despair and wondrous wide-eyed innocent in the world persona, and all that juicy human stuff. Love it! Hope you do, at times. Or at least find it mildly intriguing, inspiring, whatever comes to mind at the moment.

Ah, back to the grind now. I will be in an intensive course all next week and am anticipating much time spent studying. As opposed to blogging, writing, tweeting, facebooking, deadlining, and other life-y things. Sigh.

Happy Almost Spring, everyone! (That officially lands tomorrow. Wah-hoo!)
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Sunday, March 14, 2010

when things fall apart...


...I feel like dogshit.

Sigh. This is going to be one of those personal posts, a revelation that I am indeed a human being, complete with warts, histrionics, bad temper, evil thoughts, tears, fears, helpless anger, and ridiculously faithful hope.

Beware: ramble ahead!

When I consider everything that I do, want to do, and set to myself as a goal, it occasionally crashes over me with an intensity that steals my breath and paralyzes my mind. I've been thinking lately about time management and quality of life. For me, much of my goal-setting revolves around my laptop and the world to be found online.


That artificial yet remarkably, achingly human and real place captures more and more of us. I don't think that's a bad thing, necessarily. But like anything, it can be used as a balm, an escape, a refuge from the present moment and place in which we actually live and take up physical space. Many, many people feel an overwhelming need to escape from life, to run and hide, duck and cover. Life can be horrifically brutal, cruel, unfair, and just terrifying. (And this comes from someone who has never lived in a war zone, never experienced true poverty, never been violated or brutalized.) Escape is something we often seek mindlessly.

Lately, I've been reading When Things Fall Apart: Heart Advice for Difficult Times by Pema Chödrön. I'd heard her name for years, had friends who read her, had met her, aspired to Buddhist ideals and beliefs themselves. Months ago, I found this particular book in a used store and picked it up, knowing that someday, I would read it.


Now is that time.


When do things fall apart for us? In a universal sense, it is when we cannot cope or even assimilate, let alone accept, what is happening around us, “to” us, through us, from us, within us, from those we thought were our closest confidants and champions but who then seemed to betray us in the most soul-ripping manner possible.



According to Chödrön (thereby, according to Buddhism), when things fall apart is the most amazing, real, authentic time of our lives.


Much as it is very difficult for me to admit on occasion, she's quite right. Every time my life as I know it has fallen apart, the most shining truths have made themselves known to me with a sharp clarity that at first blinds, and then illuminates. And those were truths I no way could have seen or believed without the jaggedly painful experience of having my heart gouged and yanked right out of my chest, my soul attacked and battered, and my ego destroyed by a single uncaring glance.


Pain in the neck, that sort of thing, isn't it? But it's the way it is.


Partially in reaction to my recent falling apart, I have, of late, used my online communities as methods of escape, release, validation, liberation, commerce, time-sucks, focus, drive. None of these things are inherently “bad,” I don't think. But they don't necessarily always allow me to live my life out loud, in the moment, exuberant and free and HERE. Sure, often enough they do. People are real online! They are intimate and emotional. They invite us into their lives, reveal to us the microscopic details that create them and their days. I have experienced many genuine moments interacting, or merely “lurking,” in and with my communities.



And then, I shut off the laptop, turn off the ringer on the cell phone, walk out the door and right into my right here, right now life. Weather, smells, sounds, sights...the glorious, amazing, shocking, gorgeous physical world. And although that life is what I often tweet, chat, blog, talk about, it's also real life, which I believe can never be truly explained online. Real life: gritty, dirty, full of mistakes and recriminations, exposing the real me, not the me I present myself as being in my online universe. I like to think these two me's are the same, of course, but anyone who spends enough time in the online world knows that, as with all else, it's about presenting a face of you that does not always include the base realities.


My grandmother, my Babcia, of whom I'm written about here before, is back in the hospital. She has been in and out of them for years, but most especially the last 16 months. She just got home from another hospital stay the other night, and then scared my mom and aunt badly enough again that the doctors said to take her back to the ER. My grandmother has gone back and forth from basically unresponsive, to aware, to unresponsive again. Will she be awake and aware and alert again, "permanently," whatever that might mean? I really don't know. Is the whole situation around her, is she, a part of my real life that doesn't make it into my public persona, my public face? Yes. Because it is gritty, and sad, and not what people necessarily want to hear. And it is terribly personal, and a story that I cannot claim as my own; it's her story, even though it affects me also. But it's also a very human story, no?



Then there is my life here, at home in Utah. My gritty, sometimes ugly, sometimes cruel, sometimes painful, always real life here. In one of the most beautiful spots on Earth, no less! This past year has been one of tremendous learning for me. Things I believed to be real and true turned out to be false, full of lies and anger and indifference that covers a pain so deep I don't know if it will ever be realized and embraced and thereby broken free of. And this was from someone else, not from me, yet it affected me so strongly that I am reeling still. Things did indeed fall apart for me! Am I grateful? In some ways, yes, I honestly am. I like the fact that I am more involved in my online world. I like the fact that I am committed more to my writing now. I like the fact that this latest falling apart of my life here has caused me to go deeper, to read things like the Pema Chödrön book. This latest instance of when things fall apart forced me to become just that little bit more real and compassionate. Just a bit, but I'll take it.


And in some ways, I still seek escape. Of course, I will ultimately soldier on and all that. I refuse to hide forever. I refuse to shirk the world, my life, my loved ones, my goals, myself. Even when it seems much easier to simply yank that old wool right back over my eyes.


I guess all I'm saying is, I'm still here. And I am grateful for that, no matter what it means.



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Monday, March 08, 2010

holy snowfall, batman


Wow. We are getting hammered here in southern Utah! I woke up yesterday morning to five fresh inches...which mostly melted by afternoon, leaving a soupy, muddy bentonite mess out there. Went on a walk with Pip and we slogged through much muck. My NEOs are still in my truck, wrapped in plastic and by-now-hardened red mud.

So imagine my, ah, surprise when I got up this morning, staggered out into the living room, and beheld outside--yet another winter wonderland. Totally amazing. Gorgeous. Breathtaking. Very photo-worthy! The branches of the trees are dripping with snow loads, all the mud is again covered in white, and the sun rising over the Henry Mountains is shooting lovely angles of light over it all.




Must say, it is somewhat unusual for this area, in my admittedly short experience here. (I mean, I've only been here ten years. Can't compete with the old, old-timers who croak, "Why, the winter of '55 was just huge, I tell you!") But apparently this is an effect of the La Niña weather pattern. I'll take it, for sure. Our water tables will be very full, our wildflowers will be utterly astounding this spring, no water shortages to worry about this year. Besides...gives me more time to get out skiing at one of the southern resorts.



Ah, pretty pretty out there. About to head into Capitol Reef to snap some pics with my photographer neighbor. If I get any good ones I'll post them later.
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Tuesday, March 02, 2010

get out into the snow

Winter Hiking Tips & Tricks 101



Hiking in the winter? In snow? In cold? Can you even find the trail?

Yes, yes, yes, and (sometimes) yes. Really! And you don't even have to be Davy Crockett. The key, however, is to do it the old-fashioned way: using your two personal sherpas, otherwise known as your legs. Wintertime exploration on foot is a sublime experience. Why?

1) Unlike a ski resort, you won't get plowed down by an out-of-control novice snowboarder or pay an exorbitant amount for lift tickets.

2) Snowmobiling may take you farther into the backcountry, but its noise pollution can ruin the experience not only for you but others, including Bambi and Thumper.

3) Amazing exercise. You thought just hiking was tough? Try hiking through snowdrifts. As someone I knew once put it, that's a major ass-blaster. (Snowshoeing is a fabulous way to go, as I've recently rediscovered.)

4) Best bonus? Seeing the landscape in a way few will.

Safety considerations are paramount, of course. We all like to come back alive and whole from our adventures. Here are a few of my favorite pieces of wintertime hiking advice.

1) Dress warmly, but don't go for overkill. Layering is key. Too many layers, however, and you'll head out feeling like that Stay Puft Marshmallow dude. Which means you'll quickly get too warm, which means sweat, which means ultimately really cold when it dries on your skin! I like to wear a synthetic (remember, “cotton kills”) long john top as my first layer, then a fleece pullover, then a down vest, then a waterproof outer layer. For the lower half, I again go for synthetic long john bottoms, then jeans, usually Carhartts. (Yes, I know I just said cotton kills, and wet jeans will definitely make you an unhappy hiker. I'm used to it and can take care of myself. If you're not an experienced winter hiker, don't do it!) If, however, I'm snowshoeing and likely to fall down in deep drifts (yes, I am that coordinated) or it's actively snowing, I'll wear waterproof outer pants instead. Note: if it's sunny and warmish, those are already too many layers! Layer down just a bit in that circumstance. But keep those layers with you if you suspect the weather may change during your trip.

(Notice my NEOs--New England Overshoes--which keep my tootsies and boots inside dry and warm. Also, my très excellent snowshoes)

2) Water. Yeah, on a cold day you think you won't want water. Sorry, your body needs it no matter what. And when you're hiking through snow, you're working out, which means you'll eventually dehydrate if you don't replenish. Your best bet in chilly outdoor conditions is a hydration system that includes an insulated drinking tube. Camelbak, which makes a lot of stuff I use, has some good cold-weather options. Such a hydration system also often comes pack-style, which means places for you to stash those pesky extra layers when you start to get your heart pumping.

3) Ye olde trail mix. For some, good old gorp is outdated. But you can make your own yummy & instantly fueling mix from just about anything, as long as it gives you a bit of energy just at that moment when you're about to bonk (not that kind of bonking, folks. I mean the kind where your blood sugar is hurtling straight down to your toes). And of course there are dozens of energy bar brands on the market, as well as various energy goos and gels (this concept makes some, such as yours truly, a bit ill). My current energy boost of choice? Shot Bloks by Clifbar. (Beware, however, if they harden a bit from the cold and you have dental work in your mouth! Could be asking for trouble unless you let them warm up in your pocket first.)

4) Map. Compass. GPS. Directions. Companion who knows where the heck s/he is. Frankly, I wouldn't rely solely on any sort of GPS...satellites aren't necessarily receptive right when you need them to be, and batteries can and do die. Having map & compass skills is still a great thing for outdoor messing around, even in our highly technological age.

5) Pace yourself. Slogging through snow can be way tougher than you're used to. Trust me, you'll get wiped out much sooner than you'd expect. Usually can hike four miles no problem? Aim for two in the snow, and don't be surprised if it takes you as long as or even longer than a snowless excursion with more mileage.

6) Um, tell someone where you're going! If nothing else, scribble a note to put on the dash of your car. Last-minute itinerary changes have been the downfall of many, even experienced outdoorsy types. You may feel silly, but better silly than frozen and undiscovered out in the wilderness for months. Seriously. There are also cool little devices on the market that can help searchers find you should you fail to return at a pre-designated time.



7) Favorite tip: take a dog. Your own, or borrow one. They love it so much, they make snow hikes that much more fun. (Just make sure your dog is at least as fit as you are. Hiking in snow is tough on them too.) And who knows, maybe they'll play Lassie for you if you make a mistake and end up wandering in circles.


Have at your snowy adventure, be safe, and enjoy your winter wonderland adventuring. I know I sure do.
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Sunday, February 21, 2010

Things I Realized While Snowshoeing

I've gone snowshoeing once or twice before, about a decade ago. I remembered it being hard. Even so, when a friend recently mentioned he was selling his snowshoes, I jumped at the chance to try them out. Lately, my home has been that good ole winter wonderland, and it is driving me nuts that I can't run. Here's what I discovered from my new obsession.


10. Snowshoeing not only really rocks as a running substitute for winter exercise, it really rocks as exercise, period. The snowshoes I'm using are great, although the paint does chip off of them when I (gasp) bash them against freaking boulders hidden under the snow.

9. My lower back really, really aches after even just two hours of dedicated snowshoeing. I was told that this normal because we tend to lean forward while flinging our suddenly extra-large feet forward and break trail. Sigh...anti-inflammatories and yoga are my great friends at the moment.

8. If snowshoeing with a dog, said critter will likely step upon the back of my snowshoes on occasion, causing me to wonder why I'm such a wimp all of a sudden and can hardly lift my feet. Smart dogs, you see, will quickly learn to follow in the tracks of the snowshoes rather than continue to fall deep in when their feet sink right through.

7. Deciding to go off-trail is exhausting. I mean, really. Who knew breaking through all that extra-deep snow would make me light-headed?

6. My dog enjoys Luna bars as much as I do. Especially, it seems, the Lemon Zest. Who knew?



5. It is utterly, totally, amazingly freaking gorgeous in the “backcountry” (yeah, it's not really all that far back there, but it sure seems so when I'm slogging through drifts). See this pic for verification:



4. When a friend tells you there have been mountain lion tracks recently found where you will be snowshoeing (read: slow, awkward going, very vulnerable to being eaten by a creature much faster than you), every time your dog pauses to sniff the wind with great attention, you get a little freaked out.

3. Bringing along a strong friend who will go in front of you, thereby breaking trail for you, is the optimal experience.

2. Wearing layers in wintertime is essential...as are places in which to stash said layers when one begins to peel out of them, sweating and gasping for air.


aaand...drumroll please...the #1 thing I realized (for the millionth time) while snowshoeing yesterday:


1. The road less taken...runs right by my home. I really, truly live in paradise. All this, and I was only about three miles from town. Not too shabby, eh?




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Saturday, February 06, 2010

snowy silent morning


What a spectacular morning. For no good reason whatsoever (well, mind control from Pippin, apparently, who shuffled into the bedroom and stared at me until I got up to let him out), I was awake at 5:30 this morning. I don't mind getting up early, if I've gotten a good night's sleep. That's not necessarily the case today, sigh. But here I am, tapping away at the keyboard.

But the main thing I wanted to say was that at 5:30am, when I let Pippin out into the freshly snowed-upon world, it was utterly, utterly silent. I mean, nothing, not a breath of wind, no far-off cars, not even Harry the neighboring rooster was yet crowing (thank god).

It felt so comforting, like being in a protective cocoon. Held, nurtured, safely embraced by the shelter of winter in my home. And that's something I really need right now.

Good morning. I hope this finds everyone peaceful, safe, and content in your own homes, wherever they may be.

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Friday, February 05, 2010

the only chance we get

"Life is too short to be living somebody else's dream." (I rather wish this quote wasn't from Hugh Hefner but oh well--apparently, it is.)

This quote jumped out at me on Twitter today. As I age, every second and every day, it does strike me that life is indeed short. Shorter than most of us want it to be. My neighbor and good friend, who in a former life was a nurse, once told me that people in the hospital who had "do not resuscitate" orders, living wills, all that stuff to "prepare" for death, were often the ones who most desperately hung onto life with their raw & bloody fingernails at the very end, unwilling to let go despite clearly seeing the approaching finis to this go-round. Look, I believe in life after life, the soul, the spirit, what-have-you. I have no earthly idea what happens after we kick it, but I do happen to believe that you and I are more than mere lumps of cellular clay molded only to tramp about this planet for a finite time and then blow away in the wind as only so much dust when all is said and done.

However, that being said, I also am a big fan of living life as if this is the only big chance we get. I mean, what do I know? And why the hell not enjoy every damn second? (Well, as many seconds as I can. There's only so much love to go around, and gynecological appointments, root canals, and waxing just do not qualify to receive much of it.)

I recently, as mysteriously alluded to in the previous post, went through one of those earth-shaking life lesson thingies, the kind we wish like crazy just didn't have to happen. I came out of it pretty quickly for a variety of reasons (been through worse before, didn't put up with it too long, actively look at such things as growing edges, etc. etc.), and I've been feeling pretty darn content of late. In fact, I got downright thrilled about my life yesterday. I have so much to anticipate! I'm very excited about a new project, which might be a tad daunting but is also super cool. And overall, I'm okay...and some of the other players in the recent drama madness aren't. And that just made me feel peachy. (Possibly a bit smug too, but whatev--a girl's gotta get her kicks somewhere. Ha.)

Anyway. Dreams. My dreams. I've got a bunch. Some of them have been realized in my life, some are ongoing, some are newly minting as I write. One of my current big dreams is to make more of presence for myself online, connect with as many of the truly fascinating people in this world as I can, actively get out and explore this world (recently going to HAWAII set that dream afire for sure!), and make money writing about what I love.

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Quick insert: a few Hawaii pics. I was on the Big Island most of the time. Went horseback riding and skydiving while I was there. WOW to both! (Especially skydiving...leaping out of a plane at 14,000 feet is intense in many, many ways indeed. Ha ha ha.)

me showing off my white limbs & overall sassiness on my first day there


me with Chamois, riding on an 11,000-acre cattle ranch in the Kohala district:


Oahu's North Shore. Yeah. Total wow.


And...skydiving above the North Shore. Mm-hmm! Yee-haw!
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Okay, back to reality, and to this post's intent. Sigh....

I've neglected this blog quite a bit (obviously!). It's been such a personal blog, I never had a firm direction for it, and quite honestly, there are soooo many other things I love to do, get interested in, get distracted by, have responsibilities toward, that I just don't put in enough effort. By my calculation, at least. And, I will soon have a blog with one of my other gigs (shh...more on that later!), so I'm rather waiting to see how that one might set up.

But I also just checked out Nomadic Matt's blog and bought his ebook, How To Make Money With Your Travel Blog. Pretty good stuff so far. I'll let you know when I finish it. Anyway, that's also set me on fire. I've gotten into the making-money-with-your-blog thing before (ProBlogger is a great source of info)...bought the books...read the websites...dreamed big. But right now in my life, it's feeling pretty exciting to me, really clear and doable. Know what I mean? (Did I just totally mangle that sentence. Hmm. Perhaps it's not clear at all.)

I also just watched Julie & Julia the other night, that great movie about blogger Julie Powell (just read on her blog that her dog just died...my heart goes out to her. Losing pets is one of the worst things out there, and anyone who has and loves animals will get that.) and cooking legend Julia Child. Of course I was inspired! I could totally do something like that. (Well, no, I am no going to tackle a cookbook...but you get the idea. Or rather, it got me.)

So...I'm excited. Have ideas. Will execute said ideas. In some form. In some better, more specific shape, lol. And will keep you posted.

Anyway. This is rambling post. Which is okay, today. But if anyone has any suggestions for me...about anything, right now, ha...I'll take 'em under consideration. Looking for direction...inspiration...ideas.

Onward. Happy Friday!
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Tuesday, February 02, 2010

the lessons are tumbling upon me

Oi...I am once again way behind! In posting on here, on working on my deadlines, in all sorts of things.

Well, let me tell you, if I told you about all the madness I recently experienced, you might cast a less disapproving eye upon me. Lessons, lessons everywhere!

I went to Hawaii. I went skydiving. I went horseback riding. I stood slack-jawed at pristine white sand beaches lapped by turquoise waters. Saw honu, green sea turtles, bobbing and flipping through the waves mere feet from me. (Also saw the beach where Lost is filmed, but as I never watch that show it wasn't all that exciting to me.) Met people full of grace, lacking grace, open, closed, fearful, exuberant, and all shades of being human.

It's been an interesting last few months, I must admit. But now I am back home in the red rocks, which are coated in winter's white chill. Heck, I've almost gotten stuck in my own driveway a few times, and I have a 4wd truck. Kinda made me want to go back to Hawaii...but honestly, despite all the craziness going on here (which shall remain private...for now), this is my home, and I am thrilled to be back in it.

Onward!
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Tuesday, December 01, 2009

Everett Ruess: Iconic Mystery (Still) Everlasting

Oh, Everett Ruess. Did we ever know you? Did anyone? Such a short life. How many people have revealed all of themselves at 20? I barely know myself yet at twice that age. Yet paeans have been written to the lost poet's name, songs and laments and glorifications. So many projections have been flung upon this poor young man he's probably twitching in his grave, wherever that may be.

Everett Ruess, the young writer and artist and dreamer and wanderer, was irrevocably lost into the southern Utah canyons in November, 1934. (On the practical note, let me reinforce that most significant part: LOST in the southern Utah canyons. Disappeared, gone, vanished. So many theories over the years, none of which have yet been corroborated, yet all of which point toward the potential finality of tramping the wildlands of this glorious yet highly unforgiving little section of the world. There are plenty of people who wander all over it at will and are perfectly fine, will die in their beds at home at an advanced age...but there are some who will not. So please remember that this place can just be dangerous, if I must be completely blunt about it. If you enter the canyons, climb the mesatops, hike to the heights of the mountains, be prepared to extricate yourself again, and to save yourself if need be.)


This young wanderer, this dreamy poet, who dared tramp where his feet led and seemed not to care too much what others thought of him, has borne the brunt of many a projection. How on earth to shoulder such a burden? “Excuse me, but your ideas of who and what I am are growing far too heavy for me to carry. Can you please retrieve them and kindly let me on my way, unencumbered by your ideas and ideals of my perfect life?”


Makes you want to say that yourself to people, doesn't it?


Since it was officially revealed earlier this year that the remains thought to be his are, in fact, not, a new flood of accusations, projections, theories, and dreamy idealizations have been trotted out yet again all over cyberspace.


I freely admit that I am as mildly thrilled as many other people. The mystery still exists. The ghost of Everett Ruess still tramps the desert, beckoning to his fellow travelers, promising an enduring tale that has no ending but for the one we each make up for ourselves.


No wonder some people are happy he's still missing. His story is a fulfillment of our own wishes. His short life and unknown end are a blank canvas upon which we can splash, caress, throw, even fingerpaint our own masterpiece, create our ending, satisfy our own needs.


Everett Ruess, for my own selfish desires, I kind of hope you stay lost just a little bit longer. But for your sake as well as your family's, I will instead set my intention toward your remains and your unique story being discovered and deciphered...someday.


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Sunday, November 22, 2009

top 5 reasons to visit Cedar Mesa, Utah

Sometimes I do lag in posting, don't I? Hard being a freelance writer yet also a lover of the wilderness who adventures a lot! (Ok, ok--I'm also a bit of a procrastinator. Just a bit!)

I recently traveled to Mancos, CO, to visit a friend. Great trip...especially the drive over Cedar Mesa. Now, this is an area I have driven through many, many times when I lived in Durango yet felt compelled to often return to Torrey (gee, I wonder why, lol). I've done a minimal amount of hiking and camping in the area--but let me tell you, there's an abundance of hiking to be done there! Cedar Mesa is the sort of huge secret that many locals or canyoneering or ancestral Puebloean aficionados know about, yet it's still basically hidden from the general public eye.

Good thing, that. Plus, if you visit this area or plan to do any stomping around, you'd better be self-sufficient. Not a forgiving area in which to get lost or stranded without possessing some basic survival skills. (That's another post coming soon...all abut the bowdrill and more.)

Ok, caveat emptor, here's why you should put Cedar Mesa on your list of places to visit:

1) Unspoiled.
Really. It's way off the beaten path, there are no national parks within its sprawl of canyons and buttes, and its biggest attractions (mountain biking, canyoneering, hiking) haven't yet drawn the crowds that swarm places like Moab. Phew!

2) Huge.
Cedar Mesa encompasses over 400 square miles of pure wilderness playground. Check out Natural Bridges National Monument, the awe-inspiring ancient native american remains (such as Turkey Pen Ruin and Perfect Kiva in the Grand Gulch Primitive Area), and stop in at Edge of the Cedars Museum in Blanding to see some of the "spoils" taken from ruins over the last century. Oh, and swing into the Butler Wash Ruins overlook and check out the Moki stairs. Really nuts! (Yes, Virginia, there were ancient people who pecked that staircase out of sheer rock and then used it. They were either ancient versions of Spiderman or just really, really trusting of their toeholds.)

3) Grand Gulch Primitive Area.
Note the word "primitive." They're right on the money about that, so realize that if you get your little hiking butt into trouble out there, you'd best be able to get it out again--on your own. Grand Gulch is utterly sublime in its beauty, incredible ruins, and eerie link to the past. Back in the day (say, 1200 years ago), supposedly, more people inhabited this area than live in all the Four Corners today. Crazy, no? (I remember hearing this somewhere but can't find documentation for it just now...will keep looking though.) Please remember that the Archeological Resources Protection Act says it's a felony to disturb or take artifacts. Want more proof of how serious they are? Hark back to the Blanding raids earlier this year. They mean it.

4) White Canyon, home of the Black Hole.
Spooky! The Black Hole is a classic canyoneering experience in the most serious sense. You actually need a drysuit to do it, as water temps can be so cold even on a 100+ degree day in July that you can get hypothermic. You'd also best be experienced or with someone very experienced and safety-conscious. And White Canyon itself is such a fascinating, lovely fissure in the earth. It demands exploration even if it didn't contain the presence of cool slot canyons.

5) Dark Canyon Wilderness.
Ok, technically it's a bit north of Cedar Mesa. But it is an amazing hidden gem, and should be explored by every serious off-the-beaten-path adventurer heading to southern Utah. There are some stunning hikes, hidden ruins, and vistas that are unbelievably beautiful--and best of all, no one else is there! And it has 45,000 acres! Let me say it again: Hidden. Treasure. Go check it out...but mum's the word.

Best reasons of all:

See below. Happy trails.... And do tell me your own reasons why visiting Cedar Mesa is such an awesome idea.


Cheese Box Butte.


Gorgeous canyon that parallels Hwy 95 much of the way.


Ancient potsherds. (No, I'm not the one who "arranged" them thusly. You should never do this, as it causes the artifacts to lose their provenance. But does make for a nice pic.)
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Monday, November 09, 2009

hiking in my southern utah stomping grounds

I realized I don't much talk about specific hikes around here.

Recently, I mentioned Spooky and Peek-a-Boo slot canyons, and those are super cool hikes not to be missed. (As long as you are neither claustrophobic nor well-nourished, as noted.)

Last year, I posted pics and raves about how gorgeous Lost Lake, up on the Boulder, is. (This post also somehow morphs into Hillary Clinton, the Milky Way, and lightning. Don't ask. You'll have to read it, heh.) Then there's the anti-ATV (well, anti-piss-poor users of ATVs) rant that happened because of another horseback ride up to Lost Lake.

Hmm, then there was the one about seeing bighorn sheep along Pleasant Creek Canyon in the Park. No pics, as I'd forgotten my camera that day...but I often see sheep in that canyon. And it is sooo gorgeous there.

Ooh, Natural Bridges National Monument, just down the road from Torrey out in Cedar Mesa. Total wow out there.

There are so, so many hikes I can mention. I'll have to start doing that, and posting pics along with them, of course.

i just wrote a "travel tip" for a nicely-organized travel site called Travel Dudes. My tip was, oddly enough (lol) about Best Hikes in Southern Utah's National Parks. All of the parks down here are, pure & simple, AMAZING. And each is so in its own way. Am I partial to Capitol Reef because that's where I live? Of course. But each park has its own breath-taking delights. Visit 'em all. (Check out this really crisp photo of Bryce Canyon. If you're a camera fiend, that park will keep you occupied for days. For all hours of all the days you spend there, in fact.)

And here are some blog posts on NileGuide I wrote about road tripping and gettin' your beer on in Zion. (Too bad I can't write a similar one about Torrey, ha. Not quite as many drinking establishment choices here, I'm afraid!)

What else. Well, there are my most favorite hikes around Torrey...but I'll have to think about exposing those, so to speak. Not like this is a rabid tourist mecca yet, but it's always been my goal to not encourage the over-visitation of wild places that often means eventual, rather traumatic change. We'll stick with just mentioning Lost Lake for now, hmm? :)

More pics for your viewing pleasure. Then it's off to dreamland for this adventurer...

Blind Lake in the fall, up on the Boulder



Zion...aahhh.


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Sunday, November 08, 2009

a day in my life

Okay, these would be from several different days, but you get my drift.

Have I mentioned yet that I live in paradise and I love my job(s)? Capitol Reef is a really sweet place to call home. See below for verification. ;)

Working. Really. (Apparently with a tree growing out of my head, but anyway.) The incredible background of my home behind me, Doc standing very nicely.


Pippin hard at work on one of our pack trips. Ha! (Yes, he had his own sleeping bag.)



Relaxing with a guest after a long day on the trail in front of CRBO's kitchen tent. Aaahhhh...


Spooky slot canyon in GSENM. I led people through here on a hike.


Taking some kids riding past Blind Lake up on the Bouldertop.


The boss (Cody) talking about fly fishing on the Fremont River (ok, not a day in my life, but still a cool picture. I'd like to do more fly fishing).


Pack trip in the desert. Those are the Henry Mountains in the background. (It was kind of hazy because of huge fires near St. George.)


Fall foliage on the Boulder in September. So gorgeous! So chilly!


Scary part of the job: feeding 900-pound hay bales with the tractor! Without running into the fence, ha. And yes, that's actually me driving the crazy huge thing. First woman ever taught how to do so in BCO's history. Hee hee!



Convinced that my job & life here has some perks? :)

Each year that I live here (since 1999) brings me new adventures, discoveries, and understandings. What an amazing place this is, especially since it's taught me so much. There's a sort of magic in the desert and mountains here...if only I keep opening my eyes and heart enough to let it in.
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thoughts on life in a small, rural, mormon town



Torrey is one of nine towns in Wayne County (WC), Utah. It is inarguably the most "liberal," "open-minded," "accepting" of all the towns here. Why do I use quote marks? Because, dear readers, your definition of those appellations and WC's definition probably vary wildly.

Torrey, as I may have noted before, actually has three churches, as opposed to the other towns only having the dominant LDS (Mormon) church. Torrey is home to an eclectic pile o' people, including hippies, artists, ranchers, Mormons, grubby outdoorsy types, writers, photographers, horsemen and -women, rich folks, poor folks, in-between folks, and many deliciously diverse more.

Torrey is also, as is most of Utah, a very red town, as in Republican. In the election one year ago, however, for the first time in its history Torrey voted blue! There are plenty of Obama supporters here, and they voted. The local paper, The Insider, very grudgingly noted Torrey's left-leaning sensibilities as my little home ripped itself away from the dominant majority. Heh. (Doesn't really matter if you supported Obama or not...my point is that for once the majority was toppled by the determined, and very few, votes of the lesser-represented.)

In last week's election, we voted for Mayor and Council members. My neighbors on my little street (called, very tongue-in-cheek, Morningwood Drive) both won their respective runs. Adus Dorsey is the new mayor of Torrey, and Jennifer Howe is a new councilwoman. They each take up their duties in January.

Neither one is particularly aligned with the majority religion in WC...they won't be mouthpieces for it. Have I mentioned before that there is little separation of church & state in Utah?

Now, this is NOT an anti-LDS rant. It is merely an observation of the mores and morals (or sometimes lack thereof) in my teeny rural adopted homeland. I will note, however, a conversation the other day with a woman who lives here with her two kids, both of whom are in the WC public school system, and none of whom are LDS. Last year, her son's teacher told his class that anyone supporting Obama was a terrorist! (The kid's eight, for crying out loud.) This teacher also supposedly pushes her pro-LDS sentiments in the classroom...of course, the debate over such behavior from a teacher goes on ad nauseum. I say, no sirree. You'd better not push your values on my kid, lady. You're supposed to be teaching them readin', writin', and 'rithmetic.

I digress. Hmm, this might be just a bit of a rant.

Back to my impressions of my little town. I love Utah. Its gorgeous landscapes have stunned me since I first beheld them ten years ago. I am in favor of difference of opinion, diversity, and honest expressions of one's beliefs. I also happen to believe that there's a time and place for all things! I like to believe in our democratic process...though I also often have my doubts.

Ah, too much to think about. What do YOU think about belief systems and sharing said beliefs with others? What have you experienced in your lifetime, good, bad, or downright ugly?
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