Seeing Life in the Desert

Green on the slopes looking toward the La Sal Mountains.

Trees growing in a hidden alcove on the way to the Delicate Arch.

It really surprised me to seeing how much “life” there was in the sandy desert of the Moab area. Shrubs, grasses, and even trees seemed to flourish in an arid landscape. The soil has got to have low nutrients, get minimal water during the year, and maximum heat and sun, but the plants and animals seem to get along fine. I saw lizards, squirrels, and deer tracks too. For me, I struggled all week to stay hydrated. It was as though the dry air sucked the moisture right out of me. I never really felt like I was sweating a lot, but I figure that it was just evaporating so fast that I never could tell I was wet. The plants and animals in the area must have some pretty crazy traits that allow them to hold their water.

A close examination of the soil in many places reveals some dark “stuff” holding it all together. Informational signs tell you not to “Bust the Crust,” meaning these blackish mounds were colonies of living organisms that held the soil together, allowing it to hold moisture and releasing nutrients from the sandy soil. Crazy! Who would’ve thought that something so small would be so influential in sustaining life like that? It reminds me of scientific findings on Mars, where there is potentially life in underground seas or under the icecaps. Space explorers should come and train in Moab…

Cottonwood bottom along the Syncline Trail, Canyonlands.

Don't Bust the Crust: notice the black raised-up soil, entire colonies of micro-organisms!

Arches, Arches, and more Arches!

Thumbs up and smiles for a beautiful ride in Arches National Park!

I was lucky enough to greet the sun Monday morning while driving into the hopping little town of Moab, Utah. Bleary-eyed from a night at a truck stop it was nice to feel the warm rays of the sun and get my bearings in a very foreign landscape. I've never been to any place like the Moab area before: giant sandstone canyons, cliffs, towers, and crags everywhere. November is a good time to visit since I picture it being extremely hot during the summer. But it's still able to thrive and be green due to the presence of the Colorado River. The area is definitely an adventure-seeking tourist destination: campgrounds and guiding companies are advertised everywhere and there is access to trails for any off-road transportation imaginable (thankfully this includes mountain bikes...).

Prints left in the rock from dinosaurs found near the road.

With a full tank of fuel in the Champ, I headed back out to the Bar M trailhead, put together my bike, and took off on my first ride in the desert of Utah! My plan was to ride into Arches National Park via a back road and then make a loop back to my truck. It was an interesting style of riding: on sand, through washes, over sandstone slabs, all following a jeep road, but the views were phenomenal. Blue skies and sunshine abounded, giving a full view of the surrounding sandstone features peppering the otherwise barren landscape.

The feature on the right is called the Sheep's Head, can you see it? And can you see the "Baby Arch" on the right? These columns are though to be connected by an arch at some point.

The back road that I rode on hit the main Park road at the Balancing Rock, an interesting pillar of rock created when the softer stone of the base was eroding faster than the round block on top leaving a top-heavy looking balancing act. I then flew back down the pavement to the Park entrance, it was tough to keep focussed on the road for the endless distractions around me. No canopy of a vehicle to block any view and no windshield to block the wind whistling past my face, it was exhilarating.

The obligatory entry-sign-photo...

Back on the paved bike path that parallels highway 191 north toward a lot of the riding destinations, I was making the loop back to my truck when I saw a sign for the Killer B Hike-a-Bike up to the Bar M trails. Naturally I had to check it out seeing as how I was getting bored with riding a paved, so I hauled my bike up a pretty gnarly section of trail, hit the Bar B, Bar M, and Rockin’ A trails, and rumbled back to my pickup.

Me in front of the Balancing Rock.

Then the Little Champ took me for a driving tour of Arches NP, deciding to go all the way into the Park. I parked at the Devil’s Garden trail head and went for a jaunt down “Arches Alley.” It seemed as though there were sandstone arches every half mile down the trail: the Window arch, the Pine Tree arch, the Double O arch, the Navajo arch, the Private arch… It was very cool to see features like the Landscape Arch that are featured in hiking brochures and classic photos advertising the Park. You can make the hike into a loop by taking the “Primitive Trail” back, adding a little extra mileage but making it worth your while, escaping other tourists for some solitude and providing cool hiking terrain: scrambling over rocks, around pools, and down through some slots and sandy washes.

At the Landscape Arch. A 60 foot slab of rock fell from the thinnest part in 1991. Go see it quick before it all falls down!

With a couple hours of day light left, I couldn’t resist the hike into the Delicate Arch. The mile and a half hike leaves the road and takes you up some smooth sandstone before curving around the backside of the arch. They have ground a path up the rock, complete with stairs in some places, to provide safer travels for people to see the picturesque location. And what a treat to be there at sunset! The arch is the most photographed in the world, and rightly so with a sweeping sandstone bowl leading up to the arch itself and a backdrop of the snowy La Sal mountains behind.

I was fortunate to be up there with time to just sit and process a lot of the things that I had seen that day, doing a little writing in my notebook, and reflecting on the awesome power of our Creator. It is understandable that humanity has such an affinity for shape, form, beauty, and art knowing that God has a similar eye. I am thankful for the treats that he shares with us.

The Delicate Arch at sunset. Supposedly a picture is worth a thousand words, but my little camera will never be able to do justice to the grandeur of such amazing time and place.

Trip Update

sWhew! The time is flying by, I must be staying busy. No idle hands here.

I'm currently sitting in a McDonald's in Amarillo (did you know McDonalds has wireless? I didn't before now...), checking email, and trying to update my blog. It's been tough to keep up with everything!

For now here's a short run-down of the trip:

• 5 National Parks visited
• 1 County Park
• 1 State Park
• Biked 63+ miles
• Hiked 31+ miles
• Driven through 7 states (that's a lot of miles!)

Stay tuned for specific updates on Arches NP, Canyonlands NP, and biking in Moab...

Eldorado Canyon

I met Alex in Laramie Friday afternoon and got a brief tour of the Ag facilities on the UWyo campus. Being in an academic environment, especially in a graduate school arena, makes me want to go back to school. Although I feel the draw of skiing, climbing, and no studying for the next year more. After some brief packing at his house, Alex and I were off in a two rig caravan toward Golden to visit our other “brother from another mother,” Nathan.

As usual the traffic in Denver was atrocious, particularly if you’re a down-home Montana boy who doesn’t experience bumper to bumper action very often. When we met up with Nathan, he escorted us to downtown Golden for some pizza and brews at Woody’s: it was fantastic! And the conversation was first-rate as well. It is always good to catch up with old friends. Back at the apartment we schemed together for the next day’s adventure in Eldorado Canyon near Boulder.

Historical roots of Colorado climbing, and the rest of the world for that matter, run deep in Eldo (the affectionate nickname used by most climbers). Names like Roger Briggs and Layton Kor got their start here. It was this generation of Colorado hardmen that paved the way for modern day free climbing. They revolutionized the thinking of the average climber, first by aid climbing unbelievable lines and then discovering that they could be climbed free (using ropes and protection, but without directly pulling or standing on anything but the rock). Test pieces like the Naked Edge (5.11b) and the Diving Board (5.12?) are still the material of climbing movies and magazines.

And there we were, surrounded by all the past. We were fired up to climb together before arriving, but the feeling in the air took it to the next level. Our little crew geared up and threw ourselves at the 5 pitch Bastille Crack (5.7). The guidebook we had said that this climb is the second most sought after in the canyon and internationally renowned. I think its claim to fame is due to several factors: it’s very close to the parking lot, it’s a moderate multi-pitch, and it’s a great crack climb in an area that doesn’t have a whole lot of them. With 3 people climbing it was quite the endeavor reaching the summit of the Bastille, but each of us climbed solidly and with purpose. Tired, hungry, and thirsty upon reaching the top, we retreated back to the car for lunch and another plan of attack.

We decided on Breakfast in Bed, a one pitch 5.8 that we wouldn’t have a problem finishing before the day was over. In the parking lot, we were accosted by a gal on a bicycle who introduced herself as Megan. She was up by herself and looking for some climbing partners, if it wouldn’t be too much trouble. Feeling like we didn’t have any reason to say no, we increased our expedition by a member. I led the climb and there are few times when I was scared more on lead. The climbing was peculiar in that the protection was in a dihedral, but the best holds were on the face around the corner to the right of the crack. The holds were “juggy” but the route was overhung and pulling onto the face after placing pro was a bit exposed to say the least. Megan followed me up, removing gear as she came, and then rapped off to rejoin the others. We had been having trouble communicating from belayer to climber all day long and with some more frustrating attempts at conveyed simple commands like “Lower,” neither Nathan and Alex were able to finish the route. However, I’m just happy that some sort of gut instinct prevailed and we all ended the day safely.

The next morning was a little more subdued, and there was a lot less conversation over breakfast, due mostly I think to a lack of energy. But when a couple of Halloween costumes got busted out, the fire was back. We headed back into the canyon with our sights on V3, another single pitch 5.8. As we got out of the car, I recognized the John Gill Boulder, dredging up still some more climbing history from our memories. Needless to say, we had to scramble around on it in our costumes for some pictures… The approach to the day’s climb was long, taking about 35 minutes up a steep hillside. It never hurts to be warmed up for a climb though. The route turned out to be a superb crack climb in a dihedral nestled amongst two fins of rock. I could see the bottom from the belay on top and communication thankfully never was an issue that morning.

Back at Nathan’s apartment, Alex and I packed up our gear and we all said good bye. Eldorado Canyon has a lot of history in the climbing world, and it now has a connection to me. I will never forget these times with some of the best friends I’ve ever had, how climbing brings us closer together, strengthening our friendship and our brotherhood.

Public Land Rant

On the drive down to meet up with my buddy Alex in Laramie, WY I wanted to get out of the truck and move around a little. Looking on the map I found a section of the Medicine Bow National Forest near I-80 and hoped I could find an access point to a trail or a dirt road that I could run on. However, I ran into an interesting pickle: the Pitcher-Brokaw road that provided access to the National Forest wound through private land and ultimately "stopped" with the posting of "Private Road" signs. Not wanting to cause a fuss, I parked the Champ, changed my clothes, and took a jog back down the road.

It frustrates me that private landowners are able to block access to public land. Earlier this hunting season a buddy of mine and I were unable to gain access to some BLM land on an obvious BLM road, due to "No Trespassing" signs on private property. There is also a huge section of the Swan Range back home near Kalispell, from the Columbia Mountain trailhead to the Strawberry Lake trail that has no public access due to a lack of access points across private property. It doesn't seem fair that a landowner can block other people's access so that they can have a large section of land for their own enjoyment tax free.

I understand that we in America seem to have an inherent right to private property, but since we are all basically owners of the public land spread over the country we should have the right to access. I don't really have a solution for various access problems since it all takes money to maintain trails, roads, etc., but I just needed to blow off some steam. If any of you have a brilliant solution, or want to put me in my place, I'd love a response.

Extremely Grand Mountains

When you drive south through Yellowstone the road crosses the Continental Divide three different times, all at elevations close to 8000 feet. The funny thing is that it didn’t even feel like I was driving in the mountains! The Park sits on the high plateau of an extinct volcano and even when mountains jut above everything else, the base itself sits fairly high in altitude. However, crossing into Grand Teton National Park and spying the jagged skyline of the namesake summits is a totally different story.

I really lucked out and caught a weather-window because it sounds like the last week or so has been kind of nasty, with a storm dumping about a foot of snow. But today, although cold, there were strips of blue peaking out among the few clouds that floated across the sky, accentuating the grandeur of the Tetons. I drove down to Jenny Lake, after stopping at every available visitor center to pick up a map, all of which happened to be closed for the year. Not to be deterred, I found signs for a trailhead, geared up, and tromped off into the snow. It was incredible! The trail went around the Western shore of Jenny Lake and then up into Cascade Canyon. Once the trail started climbing and heading west, I had a view of the steep cliffs and jagged spires of the mountains themselves.

Head down and moving hard to make it to Hidden Falls and Inspiration Point, I almost ran over a cow and a calf moose who gave me the stare-down. Not wanting to get on the bad side of mama moose, I back-tracked and then broke trail in the snow up the horse path heading to the Falls. The features of the Falls were pretty cool: ice was forming on the rock and choking the water’s path causing it to move down the cliff in an interesting pattern. From Inspiration Point, the view of glass-like Jenny Lake and the low-lying mountains to the east was excellent.

I scampered back to the Champ, made a sandwich and took off down the road hoping to drive through the Jackson Hole area before it got dark. Thankfully the sun held out long enough for me to see the town of Jackson, some pretty gnarly ski terrain, and even 16 massive bull elk hanging out together in a field located in an elk reserve (needless to say I pulled over and looked at them longingly through my binoculars).

The beauty of peaks reaching for the sky, especially when they have snow on them, astounds me. Today I had such an incredible feeling of joy just by rounding the corner and seeing them. They seemed so pure, untouchable, otherworldly. I realized today that climbing, whether on rock, ice, or for skiing, is my attempt at being a part of that.

Glimpses of Heaven in Colter’s Hell

Historical accounts tell of a hard core, mountain man named John Colter arriving back at the trading post for the yearly rendezvous telling stories of water shooting straight into the air out of the ground and rivers so hot you could catch a trout already cooked. This fantastical land was given the name Colter’s Hell and was written off as the hallucinations of a man with no companionship for too long. Then more people discovered the area, Jim Bridger being one. Ultimately the area would become one of America’s first National Parks: Yellowstone.

It was a drive down memory lane for me this morning. I woke up from a camp at a fishing access on the Yellowstone River on Hwy 89 south toward the North entrance of the Park. The drive took me past Pray, MT and the entrance to Yellowstone Bible Camp that I attended several times during High School. I also drove by Corwin Springs, reminding me of Ben and Katie: friends that I’ve come to have a number of great adventures with. The mountains with snow on them standing in stark contrast to the brown of the rolling foothills below took me back to the wheat fields behind our house in Cut Bank, where the stubble of the now-harvested wheat fields swept west until the white peaks of the Rockies thrust up blocking their path. Then there was that family reunion on my mom’s side that brought us all together for a week. But that was a long time ago. It is interesting to see how things look familiar to you and yet totally different. I was looking at the mountains and the rivers with a renewed appreciation, with years of hunting, fishing, and climbing the mountains of my Montana home.

Herd of bison in front of steam coming from the Artists Paint Pots.

In “Colter’s Hell” this morning I was greeted in Mammoth to a herd of elk. It was cool to see them milling around and I had fun trying to memorize their shape, color, and movements so as to help my hunting chances when I get home from my trip. I got to see the beauty of terraces being built from water bubbling to the surface from deep below, depositing the minerals that it carries with it. At one point I ran around the boardwalk at the Fountain Mud Pots and saw a geyser in action, some crazy gushing water (that I found out was created in the ‘50s when an earthquake occurred 25 miles away in Montana), and the mud pots themselves dancing away their curious bubbly dance. Then there was the herd of bison crossing the road, silhouetted by steam from a nearby hot spring, a coyote pouncing on some unfortunate creature out in a field, and a white ermine literally porpoise-ing through the snow. Unfortunately I missed the gushing of Old Faithful by mere minutes. I pouted and begged it to prove unfaithful, erupting early just once for me, but alas it held to its ideals.

Upset after missing Old Faithful, which is steaming just to the left of my head.

In fact I feel like I could go on and on about the wonders of the earth that is available to see in Yellowstone: the blanket of snow created a unique atmosphere, rivers rushing over steep precipices into the boiling channel below, and more mountains than I could take in while driving. What an incredible testament to a Creator! Everywhere I looked it seemed as though I was catching glimpses of Heaven in this place dubbed a “hell.”