Wild Steer Canyon

Today, we violated the first rule of out-and-back hiking:  Make sure that the out is uphill.  And we nearly violated its canyon hiking corollary:  Make sure that you can climb up anything that you jump down.  Today, we hiked Wild Steer Canyon from the top.  It was beautiful.  We all agreed that it was the most beautiful (and rugged) canyon of the week.

Unfortunately, after three hard (downhill) miles, VSO stumbled and tweaked her hip.  She was limping and it made for a long uphill jump.  On top of that, a heavy layer of clouds moved in and the day turned gloomy.  At least the truck started when we reached the road.  There were some other folks who were less fortunate (below).  We stopped to offer a hand but they had, evidently, hitched a ride with someone else.

Moon Canyon

For today I picked Moon Canyon because it didn't have any roads and it sounded interesting.  In the event, I was wrong on both counts:  There was an old mining road, and the area wasn't very exciting.  It was mostly broken walls and cow poop.  When VSO asked me, "Why did they name it Moon Canyon?"  All I could say was, "I don't know, maybe it's because the walls are composed primarily of green cheese.

Red Canyon

We started up Red Canyon on the ATV trail.  There was no one out there so it was OK.  But when we came to a side canyon, EDO and I saw it as an adventure.  VSO agreed to try it.  It was partially a flail over snow-covered boulders and partially a thrashing through single-leafed ash and three-lobed sumac.  We finally made it to the top.  I assured the girls that there was an easy way home by following an overgrown mining road that I'd noticed.  Of course, on the way back, we couldn't find the road and ended up sliding half way down on our back-sides through steep, muddy snow.  It was a tough day, but, as always, the girls were unfazed.

Dolores River

For the last four years we have spent the week of winter break in Bluff, Utah.  This year we decided to try something new:  Paradox, Colorado.  Today we went to Bedrock and hiked up the Dolores River to La Sal Creek.  It is about three and a half miles to the confluence on an old mining road.  After that, it is simply a thrashing.  VSO started back while EDO and I tried fighting it for another hour.  That is just too much salt cedar.  We turned around and headed for the truck.

Duathlon

The girls made plans with Robyn to go hiking and biking this week.  So we did.  Yesterday both families went to Hidden Haven, which should have been a straightforward walk but turned out to be exceptionally slippery.  It was a day for Yaktrax, which, of course, were in the cupboard at home.  I, for one, fell on my butt, though I think only Matthew saw it.  Today we switched to the bikes.  Just five of us went to the Jem Trail, leaving Eleanor with a friend and Jasper at the skate park.  I think Matthew would agree that the women rode like champions, cranking out a pace at the front of the peloton that had me looking for the sag wagon.  They need to form an all-star mountain bike team.

Solstice Tradition

For three years now, 2018 through 2020, we have taken the bikes to Three Peaks on the winter solstice:  A tradition.  For this year, 2020, we added an event:  We had a picnic and campfire at the county park after the bike ride.  Tiger and Melissa joined us for the campfire and the five of us looked for the Christmas Star (when we weren't looking into the flames).

Christmas Tree Identification Specialist

We went out to cut a C-mas tree for The Homestead yesterday.  We were looking for a subalpine fir.  All the "cute" trees that VSO noticed were, unfortunately, Engelmann spruce.  It was almost shameful:  She has lived with a forester for two decades and can mistake a spruce for a fir?  EDO, on the other hand, doesn't have any trouble.  She can look across the clearing and sort one from the other.  (Maybe the skill is hereditary?)  When we got home, I received a text from my brother-in-law (VSO's brother); he had gone out to cut a white fir, but came home with something he didn't recognize.  He asked me to ID the picture he sent to my phone.  It was a Douglas fir.  When I told Ryan about this incident, he suggested that he might ask for help with his artificial tree.  "What species of plastic is this?"  I told him to send a picture.

Unwelcome View

When you've got 400 miles to go and just four more hours of daylight, this view (above) is unwelcome.  I mean, it is nice to know that the county guys are out there, trying to make the highway safe, but you can't follow along at 45 MPH and still make it.  Fortunately, there is no one else out there besides the county guys, so there is plenty of room to pass (below).  The other good thing, at least in this case, is that the slop was broken by some long stretches of dry road, so I was able to put the hammer to the metal (if I may mix metaphors) and make up for lost time.

Short Days

Don't get me wrong, I really like December.  But it does come as a shock when I leave for a short hike at 3:30p and find that it is nearly dark before I can get to the lake.  It is, I guess, just two weeks until the solstice, but it still seems strange to find the sun setting at 4:30p.  And, the wind:  The wind picked up as the sun went down.  It was quickly cold; it hurt my fingers to use the camera.  Beautiful, though.

Another Run-Ride

We got it today.  The whole loop.  No sheep camp.  EDO ran and I rode the bike.  Finished in less than an hour.

Snowy Silence

We did get some snow in southern Utah this week.  Not more than an inch or two, but it sure was beautiful.  I was in Center Creek climbing the ridges with the gentle sift of tiny flakes falling around me.  Perfect silence.

Easy Hiking

It has been a couple of years since I last scrambled to the top of this particular rocky ridge in Center Creek.  The last time I was here, the brush was thick and the views were limited:  To hike around required a bit of thrashing.  Now that the Brian Head Fire has burned through the canyon, the views are more open and the walking is much easier.

Crossing the Basin and Range

Sometimes people ask me about the commute.  "It's OK," I say.  "Not too bad; takes about nine hours; a full day, but do-able."  Well, to provide a little more detail:  The commute requires a complete crossing of the Great Basin, from the Sierra Nevada on the west to the Wasatch Plateau on the east.  And, instead of one big basin, most of us know it as "basin and range country," meaning that for every basin you cross, you have a mountain pass to navigate, too.  So, while some people tell me, "you can lash the steering wheel, set the cruise control, and go to sleep" (above), each nap only lasts for 40 to 70 miles because then you need to come off auto-pilot (below).

What the crossing really comes down to is avoiding three things:  Driver drowsiness, road construction, and fauna.  (Each of these is famously described in one of the band's biggest hits.)  If I can stay awake and miss the orange cone zones, I am nearly home free.  But, there are also a lot of animals out there and that is probably the biggest risk.  Ryan told me that he once crossed from Lakeview, OR to Price, UT in one shot, picking off rabbits at rate higher than they could reproduce!  So far, after 25 round trips (50 one way trips!) in the past two years, I feel extremely fortunate to have hit exactly one (1) cow.  At any rate, the worst part of the day is when the sun is about to set (below).  My eyes want to close and the animals want to wander into traffic (such as it is).

Guitar Girls

Earlier this year, the band covered Steve Earle's "Guitar Town"—an alt-country classic.  EDO played lead while VSO laid down a steady rhythm.  (Does anyone else have trouble spelling rhythm?)  As always, this production simply shows that the girls are both beautiful and talented.  Listen here.

Lions, Tigers, and Bears

WARNING:  This post contains graphic images.  Not suitable for Bambi lovers.  On Tuesday, I went to stretch my legs at the track.  The track is on the campus of Lassen Community College (LCC).  While I walked, I was surprised to see two deer grazing on the soccer field.  I shouldn't have been surprised—there are deer everywhere—but I realized that I had never seen them on the well-watered field before.  On Wednesday, I returned for my track laps and noticed just one deer (above).  Well, I encountered the body of the deer; the spirit of the deer had (hopefully) reached deer heaven.  On Thursday, I returned for my daily track laps (have I mentioned that I am a creature of habit?) and found the gate locked and signed (below).

Because the track was closed, I went out to the Bizz for an hour.  After about half a mile, I encountered a steaming pile of bear poop, which caused me to start thinking:  If you are a reader of Jack London (or H.H. Monroe/Saki), you know to be afraid of wolves.  But should we be afraid of lions and bears?  I'll grant that petite females don't want to see a lion on the track at dusk, but can closing the gates save us?  Instead of walking on the track, I went to the Bizz and walked in the woods (below).  Was that a safer choice?  I guess I feel as though wild animals are everywhere and that, if they want to eat us, . . . Oh, My!  On the other hand, as VSO pointed out, the closure was probably dictated by a lawyer for the LCC's insurer.

View from the Office

I'm working in Utah again this fall.  During the past week, I went to tour a couple of sites on the north end of the La Sal Mountains.  That whole area, from Moab to Grand Junction to Durango, has become horribly crowded.  The highways and campgrounds are twice as busy as they were even just two years ago.  On the other hand, it is hard to blame the poor SOBs:  These views into Bull Canyon (above) and Fisher Creek (below) explain some of the attraction.

Run Ride

This time the plan was for EDO to run while I rode the bike.  It is the only way we can travel at the same speed.  It is difficult to believe, but we left the house in the first snowstorm of 2020.  By the time we got to the Gap it was dry again, though, which was just as well.  We intended to circumnavigate the entire Gap on a series of two tracks, but got detoured by a flock of sheep (well guarded by three Great Pyrenees).  In the event, we were out for about an hour, and covered probably four or five miles.

ACT to IGT

This morning, EDO took the American College Testing (ACT) college admissions test.  When she was finished, she sent me a text and I met her at the local mountain biking trailhead.  We rode together up Liken-it, and then down the Iron Giant Trail (IGT).  I was finished at that point, but EDO wanted one more lap, so she spent another 45 minutes on the bike while I went to Home Depot.

Against Burrowing

420 Grand had been semi-abandoned before I moved in.  As a result, it had become a haven for wildlife—skunks and racoons—as well as feral cats.  Little by little I have reclaimed my one tenth acre from small animals.  It's not that I dislike them in theory, but in practice I don't prefer skunks under the house and racoons under the wood shed.  The latest effort has closed the space under the wood shed.  Putting up boards is one thing, but many of my friends are good diggers, so there needs to be a tunnel-proof border to discourage burrowing.

Eight

I said earlier that I might need 16 loads of fuelwood for two houses.  If so, I'm halfway there.  This picture is of load number eight.  It is the first one that I cut with a shirt on.  That is, the work has been so warm that I have been cutting in a t-shirt, which is not usually a good idea.  On this day, though, it was in the high-50s, a relief, and, yes, there were clouds.  Clouds without rain, unfortunately, but it was the first break we've had from the sun since August.

The Unbearable Flatness of Hogs

This (above) is the flood gate (or stop gate) for the Hog Flat Reservoir.  This (below) is the reservoir itself.  After 140 days without rain, is there anything missing?  I think the reservoir should be re-named:  It should revert to the name it had when hogs roamed the flat.

Edge Plays Wilco

VSO's favorite Wilco song (at least so far) is Passenger Side.  She has done a great job learning it and playing it solo.  But, EDO came up with an electric guitar part for it that rings like a bell—it sounds just like the way the Edge would play it.  (EDO covers a lot of U2, so I guess it is no surprise.)  The two of them sound really good.  Listen HERE.

Forever Summer

The ten day forecast is for hot and dry, with temperatures in the 90s and 100s.  We've had little to no rain since May 20th.  This is what Robinson Reservoir looks like right now.  This week, the city cut our outdoor irrigation schedule from two days per week to one day.  While the aspen forests remain beautiful, what I have noticed is that the fall colors during a drought tend towards brown and away from golden.

Late Summer

It was a gorgeous late summer day at the Twisted Forest.  We walked to the rim, and then up to the little peak to the east.  We came down through the wooded ridge above the trailhead.  It is covered with old Douglas fir and five-needle pines.  It has been a couple of years since we've done that loop, but it is a good one.