Friday, October 28, 2011
Not Lonely, but Alone
Ventured down to the Needles section of Canyonlands National Park.
It's a beautiful place.
More remote and less people than its neighbors (Arches and Island in the Sky).
I was there for the day and wanted a decent hike.
I set out for the Chestler Park / Joint Loop trail - 11 miles.
I started off in the rain.
Cold rain.
Both of which are rare for the desert, but I was looking forward to being in the elements a bit.
I feel something different when hiking in the rain.
The word effective comes to mind... like I'm really getting to my destination.
Working for it.
Honestly, I think I just like the sound of mud squishing beneath my feet.
A few miles in I saw a sign for Druid Arch.
Not part of my original plan, but I decided to go for it.
The trail meanders through Elephant Canyon, and being that it was constantly raining, I was basically walking up a stream.
The trail would often lead right into a pool of collected water or up a waterfall.
This was true practice for the AT and a test for whether or not my gear could withstand some serious wetness.
It was a wonderful hike.
Cold.
Wet.
But wonderful.
I finally made it through the canyon and began ascending to Druid Arch.
I was out of breath by the time I had finished scrambling up, but wow!
What a view.
Druid Arch is one of those arches that you don't actually see until it's right in front of you.
The arch itself is tall, but it also stands about 300 feet off the ground.
I found myself looking up at a magnificent arch, an easy rival for any other arch I've seen.
There was still a light drizzle (it never really stopped raining on me the entire day, other than for about 15 minutes at one point), and I could distinctly hear the sound of each raindrop colliding with the rock.
It was so quiet.
Not another sound could be heard.
I had to hold my breath just to hear the wind blowing.
I felt truly alone in this place.
Not lonely, but alone.
I had passed only one other hiker in a six mile stretch, and now, standing before this massive arch, it seemed like I was the only living soul in the wilderness.
I bit into my apple and nearly startled myself with the loudness of the juicy crunch.
It was a beautiful peacefulness, and eventually the light pit-pat of the scattered raindrops began to intensify.
It was time to head back before any serious flash floods started to form.
Total hiking distance ended up being about 13 miles.
Tuesday, October 18, 2011
Arches TrailLapse
There have been a couple of videos featuring the Appalachian Trail edited together in a time lapse fashion. I found these fascinating and was inspired to create one for Arches National Park.
I took over 4,700 photos while hiking the majority of the trails over a couple of days.
This is the result.
Arches National Park in six minutes.
I took over 4,700 photos while hiking the majority of the trails over a couple of days.
This is the result.
Arches National Park in six minutes.
Sunday, October 16, 2011
The First Day
Genesis Chapter 1
1 In the beginning God created the heavens and the earth. 2 Now the earth was formless and empty, darkness was over the surface of the deep, and the Spirit of God was hovering over the waters.
3 And God said, “Let there be light,” and there was light. 4 God saw that the light was good, and he separated the light from the darkness. 5 God called the light “day,” and the darkness he called “night.” And there was evening, and there was morning—the first day.
1 In the beginning God created the heavens and the earth. 2 Now the earth was formless and empty, darkness was over the surface of the deep, and the Spirit of God was hovering over the waters.
3 And God said, “Let there be light,” and there was light. 4 God saw that the light was good, and he separated the light from the darkness. 5 God called the light “day,” and the darkness he called “night.” And there was evening, and there was morning—the first day.
Saturday, October 15, 2011
More Defenders
The NPS created this video to show at visitor centers around the country.
It could be the most inspiring three minute video you see in a while.
America's Wilderness
"Wilderness. The word itself is music."
Edward Abbey
It could be the most inspiring three minute video you see in a while.
America's Wilderness
"Wilderness. The word itself is music."
Edward Abbey
Wednesday, October 12, 2011
Full Moon Forest
The sun sets over the Grand Mesa National Forest.
Blazing fire clouds of bright orange and red.
The snow capped mountains in silhouette.
I climb into my tent and immediately slip deep into the sleeping bag.
The air is cold and biting my skin.
I can see a few lone stars through the cloudy sky.
The full moon is rising.
When it appears over the horizon, it is like the sun.
Bright and shining.
Lighting up the entire forest surrounding me.
It's a beautiful sight, and I'm thankful the clouds don't open up and pour out their snow, sleet or rain.
Life in the forest is quiet and still.
Just the wind blows, bringing the leaves of the trees to life with each gust.
The sound of flowing water murmurs in the distance.
A mountain stream thriving on melted snow from far above.
I close my eyes and hibernate until morning.
Blazing fire clouds of bright orange and red.
The snow capped mountains in silhouette.
I climb into my tent and immediately slip deep into the sleeping bag.
The air is cold and biting my skin.
I can see a few lone stars through the cloudy sky.
The full moon is rising.
When it appears over the horizon, it is like the sun.
Bright and shining.
Lighting up the entire forest surrounding me.
It's a beautiful sight, and I'm thankful the clouds don't open up and pour out their snow, sleet or rain.
Life in the forest is quiet and still.
Just the wind blows, bringing the leaves of the trees to life with each gust.
The sound of flowing water murmurs in the distance.
A mountain stream thriving on melted snow from far above.
I close my eyes and hibernate until morning.
Wednesday, October 5, 2011
Campgrounds & Isolophobia
Sometimes camping with cows is more enjoyable than camping with people.
I decided to stay close to Moab for this "weekend" (my weekly two days off). There are several campgrounds along highway 128 that parallel the Colorado River. I found a site in the early afternoon and pitched my tent. I chose the site because it was relatively remote - hidden in a cluster of trees blocking the neighboring campsites.
I happily left my tent and set off for my afternoon hike through Negro Bill Canyon.
Upon returning, I saw cars parked in the neighboring campsites and people setting up. Of course this was fine, and it was something I was expecting. I sauntered down to my site ready to eat my maple donut for dessert, when I suddenly notice in horror that a large mammoth-sized house tent has been constructed only twenty feet away from my tent!
Is this real life?!
These people constructed their "tent" (if you can even call it that) right on the border of my site and theirs.
It would have not been such a big deal had they been quiet, nature-loving folks who set out to experience the silence and solitude of the great outdoors. But no, they are loud and obnoxious with a yapping dog and apparently are too scared to camp in their own space, so they huddle in as close as physically possible for their behemoth tent to fit where another human is already camped.
Again, it would have been fine had they respected their other campers, but throughout the night and into the early morning hours there was shouting, cackling, grunting, barking and who knows what else.
Fortunately there was a storm throughout the night, and the strong winds blocked most of it out. I was nice and cozy inside my solo tent, daydreaming about their wind-sail-of-a-tent being blown away causing them to float away down the river on their air mattress.
I decided that camping with cows isn't such a bad thing, after all.
I decided to stay close to Moab for this "weekend" (my weekly two days off). There are several campgrounds along highway 128 that parallel the Colorado River. I found a site in the early afternoon and pitched my tent. I chose the site because it was relatively remote - hidden in a cluster of trees blocking the neighboring campsites.
I happily left my tent and set off for my afternoon hike through Negro Bill Canyon.
Upon returning, I saw cars parked in the neighboring campsites and people setting up. Of course this was fine, and it was something I was expecting. I sauntered down to my site ready to eat my maple donut for dessert, when I suddenly notice in horror that a large mammoth-sized house tent has been constructed only twenty feet away from my tent!
Is this real life?!
These people constructed their "tent" (if you can even call it that) right on the border of my site and theirs.
It would have not been such a big deal had they been quiet, nature-loving folks who set out to experience the silence and solitude of the great outdoors. But no, they are loud and obnoxious with a yapping dog and apparently are too scared to camp in their own space, so they huddle in as close as physically possible for their behemoth tent to fit where another human is already camped.
Again, it would have been fine had they respected their other campers, but throughout the night and into the early morning hours there was shouting, cackling, grunting, barking and who knows what else.
Fortunately there was a storm throughout the night, and the strong winds blocked most of it out. I was nice and cozy inside my solo tent, daydreaming about their wind-sail-of-a-tent being blown away causing them to float away down the river on their air mattress.
I decided that camping with cows isn't such a bad thing, after all.
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| Their campsite... plenty of space, no tent. |
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| My campsite... my tent on the left, theirs trying to sneak in. |
Tuesday, October 4, 2011
ThunderAwakening
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| Photo by Anna Tucker |
Woke up this morning to a thundering rainstorm.
I love that. Especially on days off.
I'm not sure what I'll be doing for these days off.
I think I may camp somewhere nearby, just so I can sleep outside in another potential downpour. It's refreshing to be outside during a rainstorm.
I'm reading a book right now called Three Hundred Zeroes: Lessons of the Heart on the Appalachian Trail. It's another refreshing read that's getting me excited for our thru hike in a couple months. Every day I think about it and am looking forward to probably the most challenging hike of my life.
Walking from Georgia to Maine.
I can hardly wait to begin that adventure.
A few months ago I posted this video someone had made of their thru hike. It's one of the best I've seen, and I challenge you to try and stop watching it once you press play.
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