North and then West

I've been in Seattle a little over a week now.

It's currently an overcast day in the mid 50s, slightly breezy, and I love it.

I left Estes Park with bittersweet thoughts on my mind.  I was excited to meet up with my brother and start this next season in a new city, but it's always a little saddening to leave such a beautiful place you've called home and the dear friends you've made there.  Having a great selection of tunes for the road trip really helps.

From Estes I headed north then west, spending time in Grand Teton, Yellowstone, and Glacier National Parks.  I saw deer beyond count, bison, bighorns, pronghorns, mountain goats, grizzly bears, coyotes, and even wolves.

Experiencing the wolves in the wild was the highlight of my entire trip.

On my last morning in Yellowstone, I woke up early and headed for the Lamar Valley, an area in Northern Yellowstone that supposedly had a lot of wolf and grizzly activity.  I parked my car in a pullout next to a river overlooking the valley and waited in the early morning darkness.

I waited.

And waited.

Listening.  Scanning the horizon.  Straining my eyes and ears for any signs of wolves.

Nothing.

Then I heard a loud grunt from behind my car.

I turn around and see an entire bison herd slowly approaching me.  As the sun continues to rise I see more and more of them on either side of my car, surrounding me as they graze in the frigid morning.  The frost sparkles on their woolly coats and their breath crystallizes as they grunt just beyond reach of my vehicle.

I sit in wonder from the inside of my vehicle.  Windows down.  Frigid cold.  The sun finally peeks over the mountain ridge and spills its light into the Lamar Valley.

No wolves, but I am content with this bison herd.  Pretty amazing stuff.

I start my engine and head back the way I came.

A few minutes into my drive I see a wildlife jam of some kind up ahead, but instead of animals on the roadside, I see people with telescopes and binoculars aimed at the distant hills.  YES.

I pull over and saunter over to the crowd.

"What are you guys lookin' at?"

"There are two grizzlies feeding on a carcass with a wolf pack nearby."

WHAT?!  And almost on cue, a chorus of wolves echoes towards us from the distance.

Several of the wolf spotters graciously let me peer through their spotting scopes and binoculars.  I was able to see one wolf and the two grizzlies feeding on the carcass.  I gotta say, it was one of the neatest things I've witnessed in a National Park.  After about an hour of hanging around and listening... I continued on.

I'm thankful for safe travels and the wonder of creation I was able to experience on this trip.

Big Frog

I'm thankful for father/son(s) camping trips.

We try to do at least one a year, but it's simply not enough, and this is the first time in a long time that I can remember all three of us being able to take off together.

I think we all needed it.

From my journal...

03.23.15
Big Frog Wilderness...
Ben, Dad, and I left the house around noon yesterday and made the two hour drive up across the GA/TN border to the Low Gap trailhead.  Steady uphill hike, steady rain.  Pitched our giant tent at the intersection of the Benton Mackaye Trail.  It is such a beautiful morning.  Rained all night with water pooling inside the tent.  Dad and I have had our coffee and breakfast – Ben is still wrapped up in his sleeping bag like the hungry, hungry caterpillar.  We're gonna try to get up Big Frog Mountain today.  Hopefully the weather stays like this!  We are on a ridge with fog in the valley below us, the sun is shining with the outlines of mountains surrounding us.  A light breeze.  It feels great to be back out here.

03.26.15
Our last morning in the Big Frog Wilderness. Overcast. Windy and cool. The ash from last night's fire swirls around us as we eat our breakfast. The sun is trying to peek through the clouds and shine through the tree tops. Dad reads out loud from Proverbs and relates it to working at Delta. We are just about out of water, which is perfect since we're heading back and the closest water is straight downhill. 

This has been a wonderful trip.

ROMO 2014

Another season at Rocky Mountain National Park.

I cannot believe how quickly it went by!  May through September felt like five days rather than five months.  We'll see what the next five months have in store for us.

Thanks to everyone for all the fun and adventure that we shared.  And to Aaron and Ben who were present during my two separate concussions.

Blood and Sand

"Remember, pain is temporary, film is forever."
- Peter Jackson

I'm so thankful my mom and dad got to come out and visit and hike around for a few days with me.  It was an exhilarating and challenging trip up to Thunder Lake, and I'm still madly impressed by my parents for doing such a great job coming straight from Georgia elevation and hiking up to over 10,000 feet.

My brother came on his own about a week later, and what an adventure that was!  I love my little brother, and I always have the best time with him.  I'm also glad we didn't die.

Below are the two videos documenting each adventure.  See if you can notice a difference in the level of danger between the two...





I'm also really looking forward to having my BEST FRAND come visit next week, followed by my seester and brother-in-law in September.

Adventure is out there!

Liebster Award

The Liebster Award is a Blogstöcken (Blogstöcken translated means Blog Stick, apparently).  This award has been around for nearly a decade, and the idea is to tag bloggers to learn more about them and their blogs.  I was tagged by Hiking Forward... check out his blog! 

Here are the rules:

1. Link the Person who “tagged” you.
2. Answer the 11 questions that the person has asked you.
3. Look for 11 Bloggers and nominate them.
4. Come up with your own 11 question for your 11 nominees.

Yeah... I'm lazy.  But I will at least answer the questions Hiking Forward posed for his nominees.  I'm honored to have been thought of!

1.  What do you consider your first outdoor experience?
I can't really pinpoint a first experience, but I credit my love for the outdoors to my parents.  Summer vacations with my mom's side of the family on the Oregon coast, and my dad, especially, would take us hiking and camping in our local Georgia State Parks growing up.  I may not have always appreciated the "long" 1-mile hikes we would take, but I believe those outings in Georgia and Oregon ingrained a passion for Nature within my soul.

2.  When out on a multi-day excursion, what is the one thing you dream about doing or having when returning home?
Chinese food and Diet Dr. Pepper.  Always.

3.  What long trail do you want to complete or complete again and why?
Next on my list is probably the PCT, though I also want to finish my SOBO trek of the AT so that I can have both directions under my belt.  Long distance hiking can be incredibly addictive.

4.  Trailname?  And how did you get it?
ManCub.  I chose it a few months before my 2012 thru-hike because I didn't want to get stuck with something I didn't like.  I wanted something "earthy-sounding" while also representing myself.  I often (and by often, I mean always) am told I look younger than I am, so I think ManCub fits.  I also love The Jungle Book... Mowgli was raised by mother effin' wolves.

5.  What do you want to do when you retire?
As long as I'm doing what I love, I'll be happy.

6.  Last outing, where, when, etc...?
Well, today I hiked up to Emerald Lake in Rocky Mountain National Park.  My last "big" outing was hiking 1,000 miles on the Long Trail and Appalachian Trail over the winter.  That was cold.

7.  Favorite backpacking meal?
I still have not gotten sick of instant couscous.  It's my go-to meal in the backcountry.  Add some packaged chicken to the Mediterranean flavor couscous, and it's practically gourmet.  Also, Snickers and Reese's.

8.  Favorite memory on trail or camping?
I could give several for this one, but I'll keep it to one... Being on top of Mt. Madison in the White Mountains and watching the clouds crash over us at sunset.  Honestly, thinking about that brings tears to my eyes.

9.  Goal for the year?
Haha, again, I could list several, but one of mine for this year is to learn how to play my banjo.

10.  Have you ever been tweeted to or RT'ed by a celebrity?  Who?
Not really, but Nick Kroll favorited one of my tweets a few months ago.

11.  Favorite National Park and why?
I'm kind of biased right now since I currently work at Rocky Mountain National Park, but besides RMNP... Great Smoky Mountains National Park holds a special place in my heart.

Again, thanks to @HikingForward for tagging me.  This was fun!  Happy hiking, everyone.

Great Smoky Mountains National Park, 2010

Return to Rocky

It feels great to be back at Rocky Mountain National Park.

I arrived just in time for a little snow storm to sweep across the area.  Even after all the snow I received on the AT this winter, it was still exciting to see.  We got over a foot of fresh snow at my house... truly a beautiful scene.  The few days I've been back, there have been deer, elk, and moose hanging out in my backyard.  Watching them from a cozy interior makes for delightful entertainment.

Driving out here from Georgia, I decided to go out of my way a little and see South Dakota and the National Parks along the way (Badlands, Mount Rushmore, Jewel Cave, and Wind Cave).  I loved the drive, and I loved the parks I stopped in, but the thing that made the trip completely worthwhile and incredible for me was seeing the bison.

I had never seen them in the wild before, so when I glimpsed them way off in the distance as little specks on the Badlands horizon, I immediately jumped out of my car and started snapping a series of blurry photos.  Little did I know that I would soon become the bison paparazzi for the next few days.  THEY WERE EVERYWHERE.

I arrived in the Badlands campground, and there was a herd of them grazing among the tents and car campers.  I couldn't believe it.  These massive North American beasts were just a stone's throw away from where I was distractingly setting up my tent.

I finally crawled into my tent with a fresh cup of coffee and watched the sunset.  The bison continued to graze nearby, and as the clouds danced over the grassy hills, a chorus of coyotes struck up an ancient song.  I was mesmerized.

Moments such as this demonstrate the importance and magic of our National Parks.  I remember seeing my first bear in Great Smoky Mountains National Park.  I can recall rounding that corner in Arches National Park and being dumbfounded by Delicate Arch standing defiantly before me.  My jaw dropping above the infinite Grand Canyon of Arizona, and seeing my first herd of bighorn sheep in the Rocky Mountain wilderness.

A fresh wave of excitement and pride washed over me knowing what I was returning to.

I'll rise when the rooster crows

Last week, my father and I returned to the Cohutta Wilderness in North Georgia for our traditional father/son(s) camping trip.

Wilderness always offers an escape for both of us.

The highlight for me was whenever we were just sitting around the fire.  Smoke rising into the air with golden sunlight piercing through the trees, we both reclined on our rock seats and meditated.  Meditation through conversation... reading... journaling... staring.  Staring into the fire.  Through the trees.  At the great sky above us.

Good Morning, Macon

We pitch our tents in the backyard.
It's not wilderness, but it is outside.
Under the stars.

The air is cold and crisp,
despite a warm January Spring day.
We slip and snuggle into our sleeping bags.
Escaping the chilling breeze.

My eyes are too heavy to gaze at the stars for long.
Before I know it there is a faint glow beyond the trees.
Morning is coming.
The symphony of sunrise is near.

Howls & Owls

Over the past two nights I have been fortunate enough to hear two distinct and contrasting sounds from the wilderness around me.  The cries and calls of the coyote and owl are eerily beautiful.

The first time I heard a coyote (or rather a pack of coyotes, because I don't think you ever hear just one), I have to admit it was pretty scary.  Camping with Anna at Brushy Lake State Park in Oklahoma trying to set up our tents and cook dinner in the darkness.  Then out of nowhere comes the call of the wild... quite literally.

Cries and yelps and whoops and whines that sound more like a mixture of children and hyenas rather than canines.

Creepy at first.

But the more I listen to them, the more entranced I become.  I never actually see them (though that would be neat), but I imagine them running the open fields and plains freely and fiercely.  Perhaps they are chasing down rabbits and rodents, or maybe they're just having a bit of fun.  But their sound draws me in.

I've stayed awake until I hear them no more, never really wanting them to stop.  It's a strange noise to hear just before falling asleep, but I like it.  I like the quick startle I receive and the pounding of my heart when I first notice them.  It is a sound of wildness.

In addition to the coyotes over the past two nights, I have also heard a lonely owl performing his early morning monologue to wake me up.  I think owls often are associated with scary forest sounds as well, but the peacefulness I felt when hearing its call has been refreshing and reassuring.

Both nights camping, first in Utah then in Texas, I went to sleep with the coyote's howl, followed early the next morning with the cry of the owl.

It is a most wonderful way to drift in and out of dreams.

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.

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.

Their campsite... plenty of space, no tent.

My campsite... my tent on the left, theirs trying to sneak in.

ThunderAwakening

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.

Green Tunnel from Kevin Gallagher on Vimeo.

Loud Silence

No BearCows to join me last night.  They were out there, but not sleeping on top of me like they were last time.  It was a very restful night for me, actually.

After a thunderstorm had passed, complete with plenty of rain and hail, I was able to build a fire from some damp wood and a candle.  The sun set quickly, and as I settled into my warm tent I listened to my fire fall asleep with soft crackles.

Eventually, silence.

I fell asleep quickly and only woke up a few times during the night.  When you're surrounded by such a deep silence, the slightest sound amplifies tenfold.

The creaking of a tree was the only sound to stir me out of slumber.  A brief pause in my sleep, not a disturbance.  The tree and the wind finished their duet and silence began to play again.

Loud silence until morning.

LaSal Again

Camping in the La Sal Mountains again. This time at Geyser Pass.

Cool air.
Rain.
Thunder.
Lightning.
And hail.

Beautiful.

The BearCow

Watch the video introduction before further reading...

[and crank up that volume]



This was actually my first time camping solo, and I'm so glad it finally happened. The La Sal Mountains are beautiful and provide a refreshing place to escape from the hot desert down below. But here's the lesson I learned on this solo trip:

Trust, and do not panic.

As you may have noticed in the video, I was accompanied by some sort of large animal throughout the night. For the first six hours of darkness I was kept awake by approaching sounds: branches snapping, heavy breathing, snorts, growls, rumbles, sneezes, footsteps and some other noises I can't even classify.

Earlier I had heard the cow. A large bull, to be more specific. I had never heard an animal, let alone a cow, make that sort of sound before. Very weird. Somewhat terrifying.

I knew it was the bull in the beginning. I saw him approaching and he was making typical bull moans and groans. I was just a little paranoid that he would get startled and maybe trample my little tent with me inside. I kept yelling and blowing my whistle (feeling like a lame little boy) to scare him off. Eventually (and by eventually, I mean several hours later) he sauntered off and I slept for about an hour.

Then I heard it.

The distinct sound I often work so hard to imitate in order to scare my friends.

Bear.

I sat up in my sleeping bag and strained my ears. Maybe it was just the lonely bull again, coming back for a midnight story from the boyscout he met earlier. I kept listening.

No moaning. No groaning. Just heavy breathing with a few snorts mixed in.

BEAR.

I began yelling. "GET OUTTA HERE! GO!" *whistle blow* "GO AWAY BEARRGH!"

My voice began to waiver, because this guy wasn't leaving.

I begin to pray (Why don't we do this at first? I'm often guilty of waiting until a desperate moment to call upon my Creator). I pray for the thing to go away. To leave me alone. Lord, give me peace. Keep me safe.

The heavy breathing continues, and it sounds closer than before. I can't see him but it sounds like he's moving towards the car.

Where the food is.

"GET OUT OF HERE BEAR!!"

I set off the panic alarm to my car.

Panic.

What am I doing? I can't even see what it is. I haven't even looked. I'm basically hiding in my tent, unwilling to see what is really out there.

My shaky hand grabs my light and begins to unzip my shelter. I peer out into the dark night and see nothing.

Nothing but stars. The sky is full of them. More stars than I have ever seen in my life.

Two stars are staring at me from the bushes.

Twinkling. Blinking. The head turns and lets out a long, deep sigh.

The bull.

Asleep in the bushes. Snoring. The poor guy is just trying to sleep, while I'm honking my horn, blowing my whistle and yelling for my life.

Relief pours over me, and I realize my lesson for the day.

Trust.

Why did I abandon the idea of my prayers being answered? I prayed for peace and for protection.

A snoring cow. Hm, looks pretty peaceful to me.

I feel like an idiot (and still do, kinda), but that doesn't matter because I look up at the sky again.

The most awesome sky I have ever seen.

Thank you, Lord. And thank you, BearCow for helping me learn that lesson.

You don't need to push that panic button.

Almost to Arches

Tomorrow I will be arriving in Moab where I will begin getting situated at Arches National Park. Excitement and slight nervousness are running through my body - but mostly excitement. My brother and I left Georgia on Sunday morning and it's been a fun-filled and breathtaking couple of days traveling across our country.

We camped in Missouri on our first night and spent the next two nights in Colorado, where we were able to take in some sights exploring and hiking a bit.

Missouri was humid, and the nighttime noises of cicadas and other insects were almost deafening. I found it quite fascinating and was fortunate enough to fall right to sleep after I heard enough. I don't think Ben was as accepting of the ruckus.

Once we entered Colorado it began to get cooler, especially when the sun set. We intended to stargaze a little after the bright moon traveled its way across the sky, but once in our sleeping bags it was unthinkable to force ourselves out into the cold night wind (that is, for two Georgia boys under dressed in shorts and sandals). After giving in to a warm and comfortable sleep, I was fortunate enough to wake up during the middle of the night and briefly glanced up at the sky through the mesh roof of our tent; and there, during that brief moment, a bright meteor flashed across the dark sky.

I audibly said, "Whoa," then closed my eyes and fell back to sleep.

Hiking in Colorado at Eldorado Canyon State Park.