Upheaval Dome Loop Hike...

In Canyonlands National Park.

I've  done this amble a baker's dozen of times and I'm still enamored by it. There's big views, solitude and some sweat labor involved. In all the times I've hiked this trail, I might have seen a baseball team's

worth of humans. 

Maybe it's the "Attention Hikers" notice at the trailhead? All that's missing is the sentence, "Lions and Tigers and Bears! Oh My!" But in all honesty, this trail is different from the rest. There's a lot of scrambling and exposure to "this would be bad if I lost it here" sections. 

Speaking of which, about a decade ago, I donned a backpack for an overnight trip. On my way out, I lost my balance (I blame it on the weight of the backpack) and was about to head into a grand abyss and beyond. 

My choices were: 

A) free fall backward and probably stop breathing forever. OR

B) launch myself onto a boulder with a few relatively minor injuries.

The God of Wandering, Wondering Jews nudged me toward option B. A few scrapes, cuts and bruises and I lived to see many more Happy Hours. 

Always be aware out there, (even in beautiful places.)

This safety message brought to you by 

http://jeffsambur.blogspot.com/

Good night!

Little Wild Horse Canyon...

and Bell Canyon loop. 

This 8 mile hike is the most popular trail in the San Rafael Swell. Then again, there aren't many true trails there to begin with. (Many require overcoming gnarly 4X4 axle breaking roads to arrive shaken but not stirred at the trailhead). 

It's a great hike. It features squeezing through three foot wide cracks. (Don't allow an obese person to get ahead of you, they might become wedged between the walls). There's also an alluring amount of scenery and serenity. I only saw two humans and one dog. 

With the spate of rain in the region, the narrow gashes had a lot of pooling water. For a normal sized person, this frigid muddy liquid mess would be knee-deep. For a smallish person like me, the water was invading the Sambur-family-jewels region. Now that's a wake up call.

From Dead Horse State Park in Utah,

Cheers!

Horseshoe Canyon, Utah...

It was a 32 mile drive on roads smothered with washboard ruts to get to Horseshoe Canyon. Even if there were no Great Gallery panels to gander upon the scenery alone is worth the jouncing and rattling.

I was fortunate to be at the right place at the right time. Mark a volunteer for the NPS was heading into the canyon when I arrived. I scored a guided tour featuring natural features and human history. I took notes. 

The so-called Archiac culture artists who created the Great Gallery were estimated to be about 3,000 years older than this Blog. Who the heck knows why they painted the Holy Ghost and his entourage of groupies? What's the ingredients of that magic paint! Why do modern men have to paint so often? Why can't we duplicate this amazing coating? Why are our paint professionals clueless to the knowledge of those Archaic dudes?

Jeff just wondering...

I shot this photo of Venus the Vandal in a nearby canyon. I hope her work won't last 3,000 years. I wish it wouldn't last three hours. 

Long ago in a Galaxy not so far away...

there existed two Superpowers vying for Earth's domination. This period of history was known as the Cold War. There was a lot of in-your-face threats, plenty of chest thumping and one Nikita Khrushchev slamming his shoes upon a desk at a United Nations session. 

The teams were engaged in the Nuclear Arms Race. That was the silent competition of overkill, measured in how many times they could radiate the entire human race. 

The safety feature in this war of words and weaponry was the concept that no country would go MAD (Mutual Assured Destruction) leaving the World to cockroaches and Hostess Twinkies. The End of the World would have really messed up Happy Hours too. (The thought irks me).

Now to my point: In order to make all those multitudes of nuclear bombs and missiles, the U.S. required uranium and lots of it. That is where Temple City, Utah and other western locales came into play. In these remote locations, the main ingredient was harvested for all those horrendous weapons. It took wide scale mining operations to get the "yellowcake" out of the ground. And that is what I saw in the San Raphael Swell at the former town of Temple City, Utah! Old uranium mining operations and here's the photos to prove it. 

PS. I was exposed to the tailings for a few hours, I don't think I'm glowing yet. 

Remember, better Dead than Red. I love those old Cold War propaganda sayings.

Goblin Valley State Park II...

This photo is too whimsical to miss.

Enjoy!

Goblin Valley State Park, Utah...

It took until the late 1920's for White Folk to discover the earth-tone hoodoos of what would become Goblin State Park.

One of the three cowboys who saw it from a mile away opined, "I reckon it ain't no Bryce Canyon, but it's better than a poke in the eye with a sharp stick." 

He was right. Unless you have a thing for the color of mud, Goblin Valley is a one and done destination. However, the campground features such luxury amenities as flush toilets and hot showers. For a guy like me (there is no running water in my mobile Man-Cave), this is HUGE. It's almost as WOW as a 5-star Hilton without the fluffy white towels and chocolates under the pillows. 

Goblin Valley lies in the midst of a lot of cool places to explore. Use it as a base camp like I did. There's heaps to see and experience in the San Raphael Swell.

Be swell out there,

Jeff

BTW: GV State Park had its 15 minutes of fame in 2013 when a Boy Scout Leader toppled a goblin and placed the "Incredibly Stupid Video" on You Tube. It's always wonderful when a Nemesis of Nature Nitwit provides the evidence for their own prosecution. 

We can only hope these imbeciles cease breeding.

A Pilgrimage to the Fallen...

At Storm King Mountain Fire Memorial.

Halloween seemed a fitting day to visit the Wildland firefighters who made the ultimate sacrifice while combating this lightning caused inferno. October 31st is more than Trick or Treating or dressing up in a costume; it's about remembering the deceased too. 

I made my way along an established trail through a steep, windswept landscape. Sporadic stands of scrubby oaks adorned the hillsides. The whole scene was punctuated by narrow gullies plunging toward the Colorado River below. 

On a minor ridgeline I turned right to the site where twelve heroes met their fate. The vertical distance between life and death was approximately 80 feet. For Hot Shot Scott Blecha it was a mere 20 feet to salvation. With the rate of fire spread estimated to be 35'/second the distance may as well been measured in light years. There was no escape from this kill zone when the fire turned into a pyre for the victims. 

Two Helitack crewmembers succumbed in a nearby rocky ravine well below the ridgeline. 

Please take a moment to read the poem placed on a plaque near the memorial. I couldn't help myself, I wept on that mountain.

Mann Gulch Fire: Montana. 1949. 13 Fatalities.

Storm King Mountain Fire: Colorado. 1994. 14 Fatalities.

Yarnell Hill Fire: Arizona. 2013. 19 Fatalities.

We can only hope history will one day stop repeating itself.

Good night on Halloween.