Solo backpacking in canyon country

Sometimes I just want to spend vast quantities of time traveling inordinately short distances (as the crow flies anyway).

Creeping along the edge.

Is this a way down?

Where the methods of locomotion involve crab walking and butt scooting. Where you can stop and look at everything. Like examining the spines of the prickly pears close up and watching the evening shadows drifting across the landscape.

The shorter, more numerous spines of a cactus are called glochids. Unlike the larger, easy to see spines, glochids are barbed and easily break apart so are nearly impossible to dislodge.

Shadows drifting across the canyoncountry.

Doing the Ledge Shimmy.

Winter seems to invite such types of travel. Ice makes me even inclined not to rush anything. Complete lack of people makes me feel more free to explore.

Snow/ slickrock.

My time isn't as vast as I'd like. I have to work Saturday morning so I don't get to the trailhead until afternoon. But slowing down and having solo time makes it seem more expansive. Normally the late start would annoy me, but I’m grateful for the extra hours of pay. Even though the government shutdown is now over, it will still take a while to get our paperwork though to get us hired back.

Utah ice skating rink/ swimming hole.

I head up a canyon and get my tent set up about an hour before sunset. Enough time to play on the rocks. I find a slickrock superhighway and follow it around twists and turns. I relish the feel of rock beneath my feet. The highway gets narrower and becomes a ledge, then opens up again. I love not knowing what will happen or if it will dead-end or if I will be able to go forever.

Following slickrock.

Surreal evening light reflected in a pothole.

The rock continues all the way out to a point where I can see forever. The La Sals, the Blues, and even ISKY.  Such expansiveness.

I love these long nights where I can zip into my sleeping bag by 5:30 PM. The forecast calls for lows in the upper teens and low twenties. Cold enough that my eyeballs feel like they are going to freeze. For the first 2 hours, I always wonder if I will be warm enough. But then something magic happens and I am snug and toasty. I drift off to sleep listening to “Podcasts with Park Rangers” which restores my faith in human goodness and makes everything seem right with the world.

In the morning I play “I wonder what’s up this side canyon” and “I wonder if I can climb up to that alcove.” Two of my favorite games. I realize I've spent all day going a handful of miles as the crow flies. Perfect!

I can!

So many possibilities.

 Views that make me want to go everywhere.

There is no one at the trailhead when I get back. Such a rare thing for the Needles. But I'm not complaining.

Land of a Thousand(ish) Icy Stream Crossings

A Douglas fir cone! In the bottom of the wash. Even though the canyon here at the mouth is full of sagebrush, willow, and cottonwoods. Anticipation heightens. Doug fir can only grow in the coolest, wettest of places in southeastern Utah. A relic of the past. Not like on the west coast where it is everywhere. Is there a grove of douglas fir higher up? Was this cone carried down the canyon in a flood? Will we find where they are hiding?

Low down where the cottonwoods and junipers grow.

One of the reasons I’d suggested this canyon for our backpacking trip this weekend is because I’d read there was ponderosa way up the canyon. And anyone who knows me knows how much I adore the puzzle-shaped bark and vanilla-scent, the soft needles. But I hadn’t thought there might be doug fir too. How neat! Oh what critical pieces of information are left out of most trip reports and guidebooks!

The stream is partially frozen over. Ice bridges. Sometimes just thin ice on top, not enough to support a person. It’s never clear how thick until you feel the ice crack and the cold bite on your toes. No other footprints before us. Just gotta go for it. For a thousand water crossings. Well, not really but who’s counting? Certainly not us.

Bridge or thin ice?

Icy hop scotch.

Around the bend, a sunny, sandy bank! In contrast to the ice, it’s warm enough to lay out like lizards. Packs become pillows. I sink into the sand and bask in the surprisingly warm afternoon glow of the late-January sun. The babbling of the stream chasing away all thoughts. My body relaxes for what seems like the first time in the weeks since the government shutdown began. For a moment, I’ve forgotten to feel stressed about the two paychecks I’ve missed (and will never get because I won’t get backpay) and how my savings are slipping away.

Also in a sunny alcove, that which is left behind by the ancient ones.

Finally the sun dips behind the cliff wall. The temperature plummets instantly. Time to move.

I love this contrast between the warmth and the ice. How quickly it all changes.

Douglas fir cones.

The douglas fur and ponderosa appear! So good to be among them. Tucked away in the quiet canyon. I think about how this moment is just a blimp in the span of time. How many years have these big old trees seen?

Land of ponderosa.

Towering.

Getting water at camp right at sunset.

The next day, leaving the canyon, the budding willows shine in the sunlight. Change is inevitable.

Hope.

Seven dayhikes in Arches

For the first seven days of the government shutdown, the park remains open thanks to funding from the state of Utah.

I’m still glowing from accepting my first “permanent” position with the NPS after being a seasonal for so long. Even though the shutdown has halted my paperwork from going through and I’m in that weird in-between place of having accepted their offer letter but not officially hired back yet. I still feel a deep peace at finally having some stability. And deep joy at having work that is meaningful and feels valuable.

I’m not supposed to start working for a few more weeks anyway. Once the students are back in school from the winter holiday.

So I celebrate. Seven days of dayhiking in "my" park. Venturing into the familiar but overlooked. Finding the surprising and the new-to-me.

Most people don’t think of Arches when they go looking for solitude and wildness. Most visitors concentrate on the instagram-worthy iconic sites. I know I did when I first started volunteering here three years ago.

Before I learned how to follow washes and slickrock. How to travel without leaving any lasting footprints.

Just following the slickrock.

Along the washes.

I go in search of perspectives I’ve never had before.

Though I've driven that road down below countless times.

Relics of the past that are tucked away.

Stumbling upon water in unlikely places.

Perched up high.

I find the delightful contrast between the expansiveness of seeing miles in all directions and the narrowness where you can’t even turn your head as you squeeze between the fins.

I love squeezing through and not knowing what will be on the other side.

Listening to the sounds of ravens. Not seeing anyone else.

I stumble on an arch that’s not on my maps. Get a taste of discovery. (Even though it’s just re-discovery.)

Another not-so-famous arch.

One day, Mags’ friends come to town. He has to work but I enjoy a wonderful morning exploring the Fiery Furnace with them. One of my favorite field trips that I do for my job is our 3rd grade field trip to the Fiery Furnace. And their youngest son happens to be in 3rd grade! Perfect! It makes me so happy to share it with them!

Going with some new friends to the Fiery Furnace.

A wonderful week.

Looking back at 2018

I took a break in writing this fall.  It's definitely time for a New Year's update.

2018 was about doing everything I could towards becoming a permanent NPS park ranger. And then finally reaching that goal!

Taking the fourth graders on a field trip to Delicate Arch. This is what I love to do, and what I now get to do "permanently."

It has become really important to me to have a life where the work I do feels meaningful. What I love about being a park ranger is that I feel like I’m being of service to others. I believe in the importance of teaching science to kids and making sure they have fun experiences in our public lands. The vast majority of the people I get to work with (especially the volunteers) are dedicated, committed, and (most importantly) totally fun.

One of the incredible, young volunteers I had the privilege of working with this year. You can tell from my smile just how much fun we had.

But until now, I didn’t know if I could literally afford to do this job. Being seasonal has meant the high cost of moving every few months and of being unemployed between seasons. Not to mention no employee retirement. Granted, my permanent position has a long furlough and is still only part-time hours. But it offers stability and is a major step.

This year I worked at several parks— Arches (spring), Kennesaw Mountain National Battlefield Park (summer), Canyonlands and Natural Bridges (fall).  These parks served as base camp for incredible weekend trips.

A highlight of the year was doing field trips for students at the Needles.

"Just" a little weekend backpacking trip. The trailhead is a quick drive from home.

A little further away... Peakbagging with Holly in the Tushars (photo by PMags)

Finally getting up into the Henry Mountains with Jan.

While living in Georgia, I visited park ranger friends I’d made last year while working at Mammoth Cave.

2018 had a rough start. Getting surgery (to repair a inguinal hernia) in January was a reminder of how tenuous health can be.  Recovery was painfully slow but I was lucky beyond words that S. drove up to help me through it.

One new thing I did this year was take online classes towards a certificate in environmental education. It’s been years since I’ve had to do homework assignments or write a term paper. What fun to be a student again!

iNaturalizing has become a common verb in my vocabulary. This fall I made my 1000th observations using iNaturalist. I love using this app both to identify and learn more about plants and animals and also as a way to contribute data for other scientists.

Hold on, I need to iNaturalize this tiny alpine plant! (photo by PMags)

This fall I spent a lot of time with this guy. It’s pretty neat to share my life with someone who loves being outdoors as much as I do.

Backpacking in the Needles.

In 2019, I will obviously be spending a lot of time hiking and backpacking around Moab. And for my two month furlough during June and July? There is a certain trail that still calls to me.




Happy New Year everyone!