Tuesday, April 19, 2016

Utah State Parks Got it Right...

This time.

I spent a very pleasant day and night in Snow Canyon State Park. No, it's not named for the White Death stuff. The Snow Brothers scored the honorable mention. They were prominent Mormon pioneers. The canyon was discovered by those Tea-Totaling White Folks when they were pursuing lost cattle in the 1850s. Nearby Saint George is where Brigham Young and his many wives overwintered.

Back to the Park: there's 38 miles of trails meandering past petrified sand dunes, lava tubes and red and white rock scenery. Quite lovely. The flowers were making a show too.

There were no ATV'ers! Yay!




It's a sanctuary to the rare desert tortoise too. A chance encounter with these cute sloths is a beautiful moment. I've only seen two in my life. I wanted to cuddle them, but held off. 

Anyway, I'm heading into La Verkin Creek in Zion NP for two nights of backpacking. I brought a big book with me. I'll have plenty of time in my BUSY schedule for reading.

Speaking of reading. Thanks to the anonymous donor who bought a Kindle edition of "Destroying Demons". That's enough gas $ to get us to the trailhead and back. 

It's starting to warm up, time to hike.
Cheers,
Jeff




Monday, April 18, 2016

X-Games in our National Parks?

I hope not. 

I'm here in Zion NP loving the amazing array of sandstone and color. You name a shape, it's more than likely found here. As far as colors go, I lost count on the potential palette years ago. Suffice it to say, there's a lot of shades. 

As usual, I'm hiking here with my thoughts and daypack for company. I'm happy. 

Last night, the Zion NP Foundation had its annual fundraiser. The draw was a showing of the 3-D movie, "National Park Adventure." For $20.00 I could hobnob with Zion's Superintendent or eat hors d'oeuvres. Guess what I did?

Anyway, the movie began. The film featured the world class mountaineer Conrad "I scoff at the Angel of Death" Anker, his step-son and an extremely hard-bodied, attractive young woman named Rachel (I might be old, but I can still see.)  

The "Team" (narrator's term, not mine) were on a mission to technical rock climb, white water raft, mountain bike off of cliffs, ice climb (now there's a sport I really can't relate to) and trail run. The venues were our Nation's Cathedrals of wild places. There were many whoops of "Yahoo!" I'm happy to report there were no chest bumps. That would have knocked the Ever-Enticing Rachel off of her rock perch while she performed a one-legged yoga stand. 

I found the production to be sort of sickening. The thought of our Parks becoming a source of extreme entertainment bothers me. What's wrong with walking around, letting your mind wander and gazing at the wonders of it all? No competition there. No one-upmanship. No Yahoos! Isn't that what the Parks were meant to be? A place to escape the Rat Race? 

I've had people ask me why I haven't done a Grand Canyon Rim to Rim or worse, Rim to Rim to Rim hike or run. The answer is simple. I love being down there. It makes me feel joyful to sit on a beach to look, listen and feel the River, the Canyon and the smell of the air. I don't want to rush through those moments. I savor that time. That's why I keep returning to our National Parks. 

There's plenty of BLM property available for the X-Gamers. I just hope I'm not there when they are risking life and limb.

Good night from Barley the Van living down by the Virgin River,
Jeff 

Those last two photos are about as extreme as I get. 

A narrow section of the East Rim trail with a death defying plunge beneath.

A step into quicksand. It's not so quick.

Then there was that recent moment of falling off a cliff...but that wasn't intentional.










Saturday, April 16, 2016

Barley the Van wishes to Thank...

the generous anonymous donor who recently purchased a Kindle edition of "Destroying Demons". In fact, Barley appreciates everyone who ever dropped down a few $, € or £'s on my travel memoir too.


With that sale, Barley and me will be able to wander and wonder for about thirteen more motorized miles. That's makes us both very happy. 

Even now after 4.5 years of "Destroying Demons" going public, I break out in a grin after I notice a sale on Createspace or Kindle Publishing. I also know that with each purchase Mr. Amazon grows richer too. I'm not so overjoyed about that. 

In a day and age when more books are being published (the reality of self-publishing) but less Americans are reading, it's nice to know you chose my book. 

Thank you,
Reading is one thing animals can't do. That skill makes humans-human. 

When I'm not in motion, I love to read or blog. 
Cheers from chilly Zion National Park.
Jeff 

PS. How many of those self published books won a Gold Medal IPPY! See last photo with Fido posing. 
PPS. I don't think the medal is made of gold. 





Thursday, April 14, 2016

ATV'ers and Hikers mix about as...

well as a very opinionated, vocal Liberal (like me) at a Trump political rally. In other words, not so much. 

I'll explain the differences:
Hikers seek unscarred landscape. ATV'ers scar the landscape.
Hikers seek quiet and serenity. ATV'ers make an inordinate amount of noise. Blap! Blap. Blap!
Hikers enjoy clean air. ATV'ers belch a lot of nasty stuff. 
The list goes on...

So why does Utah State Parks mucky-mucks think its appropriate for Coral Pink Sand Dunes State to allow ATVs on 90% of this so called protected area? Thus leaving a mere 265 acres of non--crushable habitat to the Coral Dunes Tiger Beetle. That scarab doesn't stand a chance. I saw motorized tracks on the beetles turf too. I found another telltale sign of Varoom Varoom encroachment there as well. (See the last photo. I picked it up). 

In Utah, there's an undercurrent of jabber from the state legislature to take back Federal Land. (Utah is 65% Federally Owned). If this is the state's idea of stewardship. I say "No Way!" The Fed's might not be perfect, but I believe their land management policies are more sustainable. 

The irony to Coral Dunes is that there are literally hundreds of miles of ATV trails adjacent to the park on BLM property. How do I know this? It says so in the park guide.

I'll take Great Sand Dunes National Park any old day. They are big, beautiful and best of all-NO ATV's! 


Cheers!
Jeff Sambur Champion of Silent Sports (that's the name of a magazine from the Midwest.)





Wednesday, April 13, 2016

"Be vewy, vewy quiet, I'm hunting...

Dinosaur tracks!" 

My apologies to Elmer Fudd. 

After another disappointing outcome at the Wave Powerball, I turned my attention to the Moccasin Mountain Tracksite. The BLM, the Utah State Parks and the Kanab Visitor Center all talked it up.

Heck, I've never seen a dinosaur let alone it's footprints. Why shouldn't I go? I'm retired. I could find the time in my BUSY schedule. 

So I drove away from Kanab and found a sandy ATV road. Happily for me, there were no motorized noisemakers around. I squashed the sand down for 2.5 miles and located an information kiosk at the site. I half glanced at the map and wandered out on the sandstone. 

There I turned bloodhound. I put my nose down low to the gritty stuff, and zig-zagged my way across the surface. Since I've never ever seen a dinosaur track, I wasn't quite sure what I was looking for. The closest I was getting to the dinosaurs were a few skittering lizards. A very distant relative to the big guys.

Ahh! But the place was stunningly silent, the clouds looked like parading pregnant sheep, and the temperature was bask in the sun warm. In other words, I wasn't complaining. 

It was after 30 minutes of futile dinosaur track efforts, I tapped my pocket and then remembered. I had a map! Those cool fellas at the BLM took an aerial photo of the site and delineated where those reptilian footprints could be found. I shifted from bloodhound to Sherlock Holmes. 

By lining up trees, a tear shaped pool, and fence posts I found evidence of my elusive prey. I sat by Kayentapus while I ate my PB&J lunch. Mr or Mrs K was a 15-18 foot long, carnivorous Bad Ass. He/She was a distant relative of Tyrannosaurus Rex. 

I thought back on how if I were sitting at this same spot 190 million years ago, I could have been K's kosher lunch. Would the first thing that crossed that pea-sized reptilian brain be, "That tasted just like chicken!" 

The first photo is what my lunch date imprinted on the site. The last photo is a footprint of Jeffus Samburus. A very rare, migratory species. If you chance upon him, don't be afraid. He's pretty docile. 

Cheers from Kanab.
Today is my last chance to score a permit for the Wave for this season. At this point, I would lean into a fast ball  just to take a base. I want that permit! 

Jeff







Tuesday, April 12, 2016

Kanab, Utah-Home of the Wave and Bob.

"The village which had been started only a year or two was laid out in the characteristic Mormon style, with wide streets and regular lots, fenced by wattling willows between stakes. Irrigation ditches ran down each side of every street. The entire settlement had a thrifty air as is the case with the Mormons. Not a grog-shop or gambling saloon, or dance hall was to be seen; ordinarily the usual disgraceful accompaniments of the frontier town."

Frederick Dellanbaugh from his book "Canyon Voyage" written in 1871

Well, Kanab hasn't changed much since those heady pioneering Mormon years. One doesn't visit Kanab for a steamy Las Vegas nightlife. It's about the Wave. 

I'm here again to test my luck in trying to score a coveted Wave permit. I went 0 for 2 last year. This year I'm hoping for a hit. I would even settle for a bunt single. From last year's sorry disappointments:



Kanab is a clean pleasant town consisting of about 4,500 friendly white folks. After dropping Barley the Van off for an oil change. I wandered around on a dappled sunshine spring day.

The Kanab tourist office drew me in. I'm a map nerd, and I needed alternative hiking information in case of more Wave disappointment. 

I was also hoping for another meet up with Jerry. (A true western character) From last year's post.


Instead of Jerry, there was Bob. He was resplendently dressed in a turquoise string tie, a western cut shirt, creased blue jeans and electric blue eyes. This picture was topped off with a black Stetson cowboy hat. He sported a welcoming grin as well.

I made small talk and asked about Jerry. 
"Jerry retired from the tourist office. He's beginning to show signs of dementia." 

This saddened me. In the course of one year how much a person's life can change from vibrant to doddering. 

However, I began to notice something about Bob. He had western character written all over him too. I donned my "cub reporter" hat and I began my interview.

"Did you grow up here?

"No, but I spent most of my life in southern Utah. I was born near Bryce National Park in an old homestead. My grandmother was a midwife. We moved to Saint George where I went to high school."

I pressed on smelling a blog scoop. "Then what?" He was warming up to me.
"I joined the Navy and worked sonar on a Destroyer in the Pacific theater. Those were good times. We once harassed a Russian sub for days until a typhoon hit. Then it wasn't much fun."

"A typhoon! What was that like?"

"We saw thirty foot waves. We just headed right into them and watched as the water crashed down on the ship. The seamen standing watch were given a shot of rum before and after their four hours of getting water logged." 

"Did you get seasick?"

"Not that time. I only got sick once and that was when I was hungover. I spent four years on ships. Later on it wasn't the same. The younger sailors were getting stoned on the fantail!" 
He mentioned that with a wry smile. 

After thanking him for his service to our country I continued. 

"What do you do now for fun?"

"Well, I've always been a thrill seeker. I've boated most of the rivers in Utah. Want to see a photo of me in the Virgin River Gorge?" 

He pulled out his I Phone and dialed up a snapshot of a younger Bob. In the photo, there he was (from the waist up), with one oar in a maelstrom of frothy water. No boat!

"Where's your boat?"

"It's there. It was a small boat and made of plastic. The whole thing was about six-feet long. I had to bail a lot. We would run the gorge a few times a day." 

What a guy! Even though his Navy days are done, this land locked westerner still found an outlet for his water needs. 

"I'll be floating the Green River in November too!" All this from a 73 year semi-retiree.

I picked up a few maps, thanked Bob for his time and continued my wandering.

Kanab is also known as "Little Hollywood." Many western/cowboy movies used this red rock country as a backdrop. Why even a Teflon-coated president once strolled these same streets. 

Wish me luck in Round Two of the Wave!
Early morning in Kanab and the coffee is brewing.

Cheers 
Jeff












Sunday, April 10, 2016

My Expanding Family...

By now all my faithful readers know about buddy Brad being my brother from another Mother. 


On this recent arduous journey through the depths of the Grand Canyon, Brad brought along his sons, plus one significant other. Between the three of them they had a total of one trip's worth of backpacking experience. In the wide world of hefting loads and humping up and down canyons, they were barely out of the candy wrapper. We are talking newbies.
Those youngsters kicked butt! 

I have now adopted all three to be my extra nephews and one niece from another Mother. 
They have given me hope for the future. They were all well mannered, smart, respectful and didn't whine! 

Max, Cassy and Sam were even considerate. They managed to stifle yawns as a doddering blogger (me) expounded on John Wesley Powell, the Kolb Brothers, Glen Canyon, the Sierra Club and Colorado River law. 

From their ever present smiles, I truly believe they were as overjoyed to be in the Big Ditch as I was. That's a lot of grins.

I'm almost sure these rookies caught the pretty places passion too. I hope so. We need young folks to stand up for wilderness, National Parks and all the good stuff that makes America worth retiring in. If
not the future for people like me isn't bright. Strong Work!

Thank you Brad/Bro/Dude for taking the task of parenting seriously. Your efforts paid off in a human's worth of winning Powerball tickets. Even a curmudgeon bachelor (your's truly) can see that.

As for me, I relearned a lesson. I'm happier in wild, stark places than overbuilt, congested cities. In  March 2017, me and Barley the Van will stay on the road and explore. 

Onto Utah today!
Cheers!
Jeff

PS. Give a shout if you happen to be behind the Zion Curtain this month and May. I'm pretty sure I have enough IPAs for guests.