This week, we were burning piles in the foothills of the La Sals. I'm probably not the most expert pile burner, but I calculated a personal rate of 20 piles per hour, which includes travel back and forth to the fuel wagon for more diesel. Pretty good duty. The only negative is that it is best to burn piles when there is plenty of snow and when the soil moisture is high, which means that the job quickly becomes wet and muddy. My feet were mucky all day.
When this newspaper began, more than ten years ago, none of our editors thought that it would make history. But, it has. Today, we're posting for the thousandth time. It is difficult to say whether any other weblog has done as much? Arianna Huffington aside, where else can you go for a sprinkling of art and literature along with nice pictures of trees? But, above all, we are the leading international journal of afternoon hikes. At least a thousand of them.
"Enough already. I know you're going to talk about ski touring." I am. And, if I didn't have a job, it is the only thing I would be doing. We've been out every day this week except Wednesday when I was on the road. The conditions are phenomenal. What I have truly been enjoying is pioneering new lines through the burned trees on the north-facing slopes. (Burned by the Brian Head Fire of 2017.) I need the GoPro though, because it is difficult to fire the camera while dodging black stems. At any rate, if you haven't tried this, it is highly recommended.
We appear to be in the middle of a fairly fierce winter storm this weekend. I know the lovers-of-spring are disappointed, but the ski touring is fantastic. The snow conditions have never been better. (It is especially good when I have EDO to break trail for me.) The only cause for concern is the avalanche danger. We ski low-angled terrain, so I usually don't think about it. But today I began noticing the cut banks above the road. They are loaded with snow, and might have enough material to hit our ski track. I made a cut on one of the smaller banks and, sure enough, released a soft-slab avalanche. The top two layers of fresh snow (maybe from yesterday and today) slid easily on the ice lens that had formed during the warm, sunny weeks. There wasn't enough material to hit our track, but this was the smallest road cut: A couple of others are quite a bit larger. They will now have my attention, especially if it continues to snow.
This one is called Parley. Most of the Parley landmarks in the state are named after Parley Pratt, Brigham Young's right-hand man and one of the first members of the Quorum of the Twelve. I don't know about this one, but it might be Apostle Pratt's? It is a beautiful canyon; unfortunately, the light today was flat and I couldn't get a good picture. On the other hand, pictures aren't everything: Much of what I like about places like this is the silence.
