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.