Dead Horse Point State Park, Utah...

A scenic wonder with an unfortunate name. Who knows if a few onnery cowboys really corralled some less than perfect wild horses on this spit of land to languish and die? It might be high time for a name change.

I know! Let's name it like we do subdivisions in suburbia! 

How's? 

Pleasant View Acres State Park.

Give a look-see at the photos. Are those views pleasant or what?

Enjoy the rest of your Sunday,

Jeff

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.

Thrown off the bike...

Thursday!

This was how my summer of 2014 began. A major tumble followed up by this major owwie. (Please ignore the bikini briefs, little people require little undergarments). 

This purple mess misshaped the left side of my middle. Shorts that previously required a belt were tight on me. Unmentionable body parts were discolored too. I spent my time in boring Utah towns (isn't that a statement of redundancy?) with ice packs on my wounds. I wasn't a happy camper. 

I tried to recover on a two-week raft trip through the Grand Canyon. In that magnificent gouge I acted (correct description) as an assistant boatman. The chores left me feeling worn out and whooped. Hey! I've been retired for nearly seven years. I'm not used to working a schedule or being productive. 

My summer was starting off as a bust.

Then the Queen of Good Fortune rained down on me. On a hike down Mount Sopris, I missed my turn off from the summit. I was following West Sopris Creek when I spotted a young woman sunbathing au natural. 

From that defining moment on, all was good and right in my world. The summer was salvaged! I owe it all to the naked woman on Sopris. May God bless and protect you and provide you with some warm clothes this winter.

That's my Throwback Thursday tale.

The rest of the story can be found on the Mount Sopris post.

From Carbondale, Colorado

Jeff

He got the urge for going...

When the meadow grass was turning brown

Summertime was falling down and winter was closing in

Joni Mitchell

Atop 8,144 foot Green Mountain, I could see the inevitable approaching. The summits of Rocky Mountain National Park had the appearance of numerous squashed down vanilla ice cream waffle cones. They were spray painted with White Death (AKA snow) in the parlance of this Blogger. 

I'm no Frozen Chosen Wandering Jew. It's getting too chilly to wear flip flops on my bicycle rides to Happy Hour saloons. It's time to go.

By tomorrow, I'll be saying goodbye to Boulder until the sowing season of 2015. 

The Utah deserts are calling, but I won't wander around them for forty years like Moses and company. 

Isn't retirement great?

BTW. You can subscribe to this blog with no money down and no obligation. If you aren't 100% satisfied, you can unsubscribe anytime. 

Does the Wandering, Wondering Hindu blog offer the same great deal?

Cheers!

It was merely a...

flesh wound.

I drove the patient (Barley) to Caliber Collision for a new paint job as scheduled. The nice GEICO rep said, "Wait a minute, that's water based spray paint. We'll have it off in no time."

Faster than I could exclaim, "A pox on the vandal who painted WHY on my van," I was boogieing down Broadway in Boulder. Now, that's the way to start a day.

Please, don't tell the angry neighbor to use oil based paints next time.

I'll be moving along soon. The Front Range of Colorado is cooling down. I had to wear pants twice in the last few evenings. (My legs broke out in hives and I began to hyperventilate from the emotional strain.) 

Yep! We are one big happy traveling family once again,

Cheers!

Jeff

PS. I would still keep an eye on your neighbors though. 

We interrupt this Blog...

To bring you a word from our sponsor.

Every now and then I receive fan mail about my one and only book.

I'm pretty proud of this missive. I attached it below:

WOW!!! Just finished Destroying Demon's...   My boyfriend Hank and I (ilya) met you 4/22/14 in Utah when we were dropped off at the trail head for a one way hike of the west rim trail. The driver was a bit sketchy about where the trail head was, and before the rest of us in the van had donned our backpacks, you were off and running and yelled "Miami" here it is. You were maybe 30 yards away and you got us all on the right track. You didn't know my name but you knew we lived in Miami from our conversation. Your book is awesome. I'm a slow reader, 1 or 2 pages before I fall asleep, but I've learned a great deal about the history, geography and culture of this wonderful country from your book.   I grew up in England and Jamaica so I wasn't schooled in American history. I think your book would be a great read for our young people. It's informative and inspiring. I was shocked at the end to learn about your close call with that hit you took. Hank and I are amazed at how incredibly fit you are. Thanks for leading us in the right direction in Utah and thanks for an inspiring read. I'm sad it's over but loved every bit, especially the little vignettes from your career as a firefighter at the beginning of each state. We wish you all the best.

Ain't that great?

A former girlfriend indignantly deemed the book to be pornographic.

Buy a copy and decide.

If I get a spike in sales, I'll know the cliche "Sex Sells" is correct.

If you buy a squeaky clean new book direct from Amazon, I score $3.52. Don't give up your day job to self publish a book, even if it might be a bit "Blue." 

Find it here before the holiday rush at Amazon begins! It's available on Kindle too.

http://www.amazon.com/s/ref=nb_sb_noss_1?url=search-alias%253Daps&field-keywords=Jeff+sambur

PS. The ability to read separates humanity from the animals. Enjoy!

Jeff

We are all coping...

Numerous showers couldn't rinse away the emotional angst of Barley's external violation. 

Fido and I donned black arm bands in a display of solidarity to honor our steady-as-a-rock traveling companion. 

As of this posting, there were no suspects to this mean-spirited crime. (Although the names Mr. Mustard, Miss Scarlet, Professor Plum and Mr. Green have been bandied about). Personally, I think the Butler or an angry neighbor did it. No other vehicles were tagged in the area. Barley was singled out and the "hit" was made. 

On Monday, I'll be taking my buddy in for a new paint job. GEICO (15 minutes could save you 15% on your van's insurance. They paid me to write that) is taking care of the details, including a rental car. 

I'll have to shell out two weeks worth of Happy Hour IPAs to cover my end of the loss. What's worse is losing my snug home and hearth for a few nights. No one wins when vandals strike. We all pay the price in increased insurance premiums and wasted resources. 

Be safe out there and ever vigilant. Fido was apparently asleep on guard duty when the painter struck.

Back in Boulder...

Jeff

PS. Edna is so traumatized, she refuses to leave her post on the dashboard for a photo op. She's wearing a tiny black arm band too.

Finally! A Copilot for me...

and Barley!

I know. She's kind of small, but Man! can she wiggle!  She's not much for conversation though. But then again, I like quiet time when I drive. I'll have to work on getting her to read maps and do vacation planning researc. 

Meet Edna. In Hebrew the name translates to pleasure, rejuvenation and delight. That's a lot to ask from a tiny figurine strumming a ukelele. 

Regardless, she looks dashing on Barley's dashboard.

It's another fine Indian summer day in Colorado. 

Cheers!

A Wonderful Time was...

had by all. (I think!)

My brother (my hero and mentor) said it all when he announced to the crowd, "I never knew Jeff had so many friends!"

I had the pre-party jitters big time. I'm the kind of guy who can go days without saying anything more then, "I'll have another beer. Please!" to a bartender. For a sociable hermit like myself, I was nerve wracked until the big event began to roll along. Even I had a great time connecting with the people of my past. There were three fire chiefs there too!

If you attended thanks for coming. If not, you'll have to wait until 2024 when I turn 70. By then I will have calmed down enough to throw another soirée. 

BTW: I really turn 60 on November 15. I just didn't want to be this far north then. Brrr. I'll be in the Grand Canyon on the big day. I need to be someplace that is older than me.

Cheers!

Jeff

The family photo shot could be the cheesiest smile I ever made.

Colorado National Monument...

I'll say it right off the bat. Other than my dear friends Jack and Judy Miller, Colorado NM is the bestest thing about Grand Junction, Colorado.

For me, it's always been a joy to amble up and down it's many spired rock canyons. The Rim Rock Drive is considered by many (me included) to be road cycling nirvana. It's a great place to escape! 

And we owe it all to that free spirited trail builder John Otto for making it happen. In the early 1900's, he began to explore the area. He looked around and thought, "Hey! This is a cool place. I'll start constructing trails." When the local Chamber of Commerce saw this one man Tour de Force, they exclaimed, "Strong Work! Dude! We'll get Congress to declare this a National Park!" 

It took our chubbiest President, William Howard Taft to utilize the Antiquities Act to declare those red rock canyons a National Monument in 1911.

Good old Mr. Otto was named the first park ranger. He held that lofty position for 16 years while living in a tent. In all those years, he kept on rolling rocks around to make trails. 

Thank You John Otto and may heaven provide you with a better shelter than a tent. 

BTW. Google the Antiquities Act of 1906. This is one tremendous piece of legislation.