A Grand Spring Break

We haven't written as often as I wanted, but we have been busy doing good things, and here's hoping we make up for it with quality.  Among the good things: camping at the Grand Canyon over spring break. People travel from all over the world just to see this place, and living as close as we do (a mere 7 hour drive from our house), it would be just plain wrong not to spend time taking it in.  More on that in a moment, but fortunately for us, that seven our drive is filled with wonders of its own.

Our first stop on the way south was a quick overnighter at Ruby's Inn, Utah. Why stop there, you might ask?  First and foremost because my amazing niece, Taylor Bailey Pollock, and her husband Dave work there on the weekends, and any chance to see them (and when possible their cute little boy) is absolutely a good thing.  But it is also nice that if you wake up early the next morning, a five minute drive will yield this view:

It was cold, as the snow still on the ground will attest, but standing over Bryce Canyon, watching the oranges intensify as you wait from pre-dawn through sunrise to post-sunrise, leaves you in awe of the power of light to shape and color the world.  Pale pinks and blues gradually give way to brighter and more intense yellows and oranges, green pine needles take on their verdant tones,  and the world comes alive in color.  By mid-day it will all wash out with the intensity of the sun, but these moments are pure magic.

The views here are from Bryce Point, and if you have only one sunrise at Bryce in your life, that is where you should go.  As the sun rose, the only sounds were the wind slipping over the high plateau, and birds greeting the morning. Later, the hushed whispers of a few souls joined that spare soundtrack, but the fact that they were hushed, in reverence of the moment, added more than detracted.

You learn here, perhaps more so than anywhere else in the world, that God is a sculptor as well as a painter, whose handiwork can lift your spirits in ways that no other art can.

Later in the morning, we hiked through the Queens Garden as a family, with Keegan leading the way down. I worried that he would be less enthusiastic about hiking back up, but that fear was unfounded. He was a total trooper, full of excitement and energy despite the steep climb back to the top.

Following our jaunt through Bryce we drove Highway 89 to Kanab, UT, and spent our second night there.  Why Kanab?  Well, to see Jordan Bailey, the wonderful young man that is my nephew.  He took us on an evening drive down dirt backroads that were just numbers on a map, showing us all the amazing, unnamed places that make this state their home.  Here is a family photo with Jordan:

And here is an example of the day to day beauty that he loves so much:

The following morning, we headed towards Page Arizona and Lake Powell, along the edge of Grand Staircase National Monument.  I have long wondered why they called it that, until I saw this view, on a windy, dusty day, from a lookout in the Arizona strip.

Up close, those rising cliffs are filled with spectacular color.

 A short distance from the photo above, a dirt road headed into the heart of those cliffs, so of course we took it. Here is what it looked like:

The colors and patterns all around us were unreal. If you came to this place and painted what you saw, no one would believe you. Yet here it is, as we saw it -- just another nameless place in the Grand Staircase.

We stopped to celebrate Kate's 15th (gulp) birthday here -- amidst a kaleidoscope of wonder for a wonderful and colorful girl.

The boys were so cute with their big sis -- they had insisted on buying the cake, on the sly, before we left Kanab, and had somehow kept it a secret from her on the drive out of Kanab. I love that my kids love each other -- I don't know of any greater gift that a parent can get, and it wasn't even my birthday (thank goodness).

From there, we headed to see Glen Canyon Dam and Lake Powell, which was scary low.  Most of the fields you see below were covered in water the last time I was here -- it looks like the lake is down at least a hundred feet, which is a huge water loss.

Not so long ago, environmentalists were on a tear, seeking the destruction of the dam, to restore Glen Canyon to its natural state.  Now those same folks (yes, that is you, Sierra Club) clamor for the clean power of the dam rather than what comes from the coal fired power plant in the background, having found a new crisis, of the climatic nature, to be up in arms about.  Sure glad they didn't win the first time, and still have the hydro "clean" power created by the dam to help them now.

I hope you will forgive me my skepticism, and a moment of diatribe, but as a good friend would say, "I've been to that movie before,"  and when the scare-tactic-o-meter goes through the roof, I dig in my heels.  While it may be that carbon dioxide levels are warming the planet, I am not sure that a colder planet is better, and I have serious doubts about the "dire" consequences forecasted by a bunch of people that can't even get the weather right ten days out. For example, I am sure any number of these climate "scientists" would say with utter certainty that the dropping lake level above is caused by that power plant behind it -- man made global warming.  And yet equally lettered archeologists will tell you that the Anasazi's mysterious disappearance from these parts a millennia ago was due to a lengthy, persistent drought in the region -- long before the carbon age was born or carbon dioxide levels had reached their current "disaster" levels. Combine this with the fact that carbon dioxide levels have been this high before -- in the age of the dinosaurs, supposedly, when no one burned any coal or oil (because the dinosaurs and all those plants that made that stuff were still alive and above ground), and maybe you'll understand my skepticism --which has nothing to do with being a "denier." (a perjorative term I hate because it seeks to stifle dissent through a bullying association with holocaust deniers).  I suppose I should add here heaven help us if I am wrong, but I am not that concerned this ten seconds.  I read "Chicken Little" when I was a kid.

Ok, sorry for that little aside, but the last photo above seemed to call for it.  From Glen Canyon, we headed just downriver to the most amazing place.  I don't know if it even has a name -- such is the case with so many wonders around these parts -- but it is spectacular.

Those are boats down there, with people in them, which should give you some scale on those cliffs. As you get to the edge, you realize it is well over a thousand feet straight down.   It didn't seem to phase Keegan at all, which of course phased his father a lot, and I became a partial nervous wreck watching his every step.  It was here that I first thought "gee, maybe going to the Grand Canyon wasn't such a good idea after all."

That guts-in-your-mouth feeling faded with a little time in this beautiful place, though.  We finally got the family together for a picture near the edge.

Well, that is a lot of amazing and we aren't even to the Grand Canyon yet.  Have I mentioned lately that I love where I live?  More to come in the next post.

Speaking of 15 Year Olds . . .

Last Saturday, I went to bed at 11:00 p.m., knowing that Kate had to speak in church, in front of the whole congregation, at 10:50 a.m. the next morning (church starts at 9:00, with classes first).  SHe had not written a word at that point.  We knew she had been thinking about her topic, Families, for a few days, but neither Kathleen or I had any time to help her.  Below is the talk she wrote in the wee hours, and gave the following morning:

Sunday Talk: Family

According to God’s plan, we were all born into a place and situation built to test us. Not just anyone: us. Each person individually was placed in a situation that would test that one person to the utmost. To aid us in our lives, we were all given talents. Everyone’s place was created not only to test them, but to stretch them, change them in a way that, if they so chose, they could return to the Celestial Kingdom of Heaven and live with Heavenly Father. Extremely important in God’s plans for our life on Earth are our families.

Our families, like everything else about our challenges and situations in life, have been uniquely tailored to us. However, unlike many things that we may encounter, our families are put there to help us as well as challenge us. No one can say that family is perfect. In fact, by virtue of human nature, all families are imperfect. Everyone’s families have sometimes tested them – even in something as simple as an argument over what song should play on the radio. After all, not all challenges have to be extreme. But we can receive strength from our families too. As the ultimate example, Jesus was able to live perfectly, suffer in gethsemane, die on the cross, and be resurrected, partly as a result of his lineage as the Only Begotten of God and the direction he received from His Father, and His Earthly mother, Mary.

The book of first Nephi is another prime example. It, like all books of true scripture, is full of wonderful gospel truths that should not be overlooked. But it also contains a story. It is clear from the beginning that Lehi has sons of highly varying character. On the one hand, Nephi and Sam, and later their younger brothers Jacob and Joseph, chose to follow Lehi and support him when his eldest, Laman and Lemuel, murmured against him. Laman and Lemuel caused their family much pain – they refused to believe their brother could have learned from the Lord how to build a boat, and then, when he did, they tied him to the mast  midway through their journey, causing him physical pain and his parents to become so sick with grief they nearly died. Nephi supported them. He obeyed his father and eventually led his family to the promised land, despite trials from within and without his family.

We, too, can choose whether to strengthen or weaken our families. Each family is different. They face different trials, and have different needs, whether it be illness, finances, death, or something else entirely. All share two things in common. All are important to God. And all can be strengthened when all or even one of the members of that family follow His principles and commandments. Satan is attacking the family because it is one of the most important pieces of God’s plan. As we strengthen our families we too can be strengthened. It doesn’t have to be hard. We can use our gifts, even often overlooked ones, such as the gift of listening, or humor, to comfort our family and brighten their days. In turn, they may use their own individual gifts to help us, and may also teach us new ones, such as patience, which will help us throughout our lives. There are other things we can do. Encourage each other. Repair quarrels quickly. Smile, hug, and say “I love you.” Read scriptures and pray as a family. The Adversary loses just a little more each time someone strengthens their family in simple, small ways, and God’s presence can be felt more strongly.

Beyond that, we can all find ways to strengthen our extended family – our aunts, uncles, cousins, and grandparents, our dead and unbaptized ancestors. We are also part of an amazing ward family. And each time we strengthen, comfort, or help another person, we are strengthening our spiritual brothers and sisters, the family of God.

I hope we can all use our gifts, even the smallest ones, to strengthen our families.

As her father, who probably is one of her principle tests/stretching devices (OK, maybe not quite the test that her brothers are, but still) I could not be more proud.  There is a lot of wisdom there from my sweet pea.  She also had a beautiful, clear, confident delivery.  Very proud papa.

So It's Been Awhile

I don't know where the time goes, and why blogging regularly seems so hard.  I guess because it is tough to choose between living life and recording it.  Time passes so quickly you feel like you have to live every flipping, fleeting moment as hard as you can -- if you have the time to record, you'd be crazy not to use every one of those moments to live mas, as they say.  To that point, I remember the opening photo, at Lake Louise, and the ones below, like they were yesterday -- how can it possibly be that the little girl in these photos is now 15, and my sons 10 and 8?

Who has time to pause and reflect and write when time goes like that, and these beautiful little moments never return?

But my Mom has inspired me of late, by bringing over bits of our family history, like stories about my grandpa Aldin and my great uncle Coy. It is amazing how much I feel in my heart that these stories are central to who I am.  Given my LDS faith, that probably should not be a surprise, but the depth of that feeling still amazes at times.  So I will try to write again, for the stories, and so my kids, and their kids (who I may never know, given how late we started) know and remember a little more about who and what makes them who they are.

To that end, overheard in my house at dinner in the last 24 hours:

Kate:  "Now that I am 15, dad, would you take some time this summer to teach me how to drive?"

Me, gulping hard:  "Well, I have taken out an extra life insurance policy on myself, so I guess we're ready for that."

Kate, without missing a beat: "Glad you did that -- so then I guess its fine if I throw a fork at you."

At which point my dear wife laughed so hard, with a mouthful of food, that we almost should have taken out the life insurance policy on her.

This was followed, at a subsequent sitting, by this exchange:

Kate: "Grandma, what did you watch on TV when you were little?"

Grandma: "Kate, when I was born, there was no TV!"

Keegan, who was enjoying a cookie:  "Grandma, were you born before sugar?"

There aren't very many dull moments around here, for better or worse.  Hopefully I will be better about catching more of them.

Southern Utah is God's Art Studio

When Kathleen and I married, we honeymooned in southern Utah.  It was the right place to start our marriage, holding in abundance so much of what we both love -- the stunning beauty of the earth.  Our mutual desire to explore every bit of that beauty -- hiking, biking, driving, camping and photographing it, has been a binding glue for us, something we both cherish and turn to again and again for renewal, peace and joy.  So it seemed appropriate, in celebration of our 25th this past June, to take a short four day southern Utah trip to a little town called Boulder.

Yes, Boulder, which actually is a place in southern Utah (and you thought it was in Colorado!).  When people ask where it is exactly, I respond the only way I know how: "Just over Boulder Mountain from the town of Torrey."  Blank stares inevitably follow, even among most Utahans.

That isn't surprising,  I guess, as Boulder is a seldom-visited, hard-scrabble farming settlement of a few dozen people or so, whose first claim to fame is that it was the last town in the United States to still receive its mail by mule ( I think that changed in 1934 thanks to the CCC, but I am not sure).  As you might guess, the people there are at least three parts tough and two parts eccentric, a delightful combination sweetened by at least one part nice.  I think they would be more parts nice, except they want to keep this place a secret -- and well they should.

Boulder is the only place I know where if you drive 15 minutes one way, you will find yourself at 10,000 feet amongst towering pines and aspen, but if you drive 15 minutes the other way, you will find yourself in the heart of true southern Utah desert red-rock, otherwise known as the Escalante river drainage. It is absolutely spectacular.  Here are a few pictures of what greets you as you come up over Boulder Mountain.

Note the deer in the photo above.  How much more alpine can you get?

The place to stay in town is the Boulder Mountain Lodge, an oasis of reasonable accommodation in an otherwise unforgiving place, and our destination this trip. Here are a few pictures of the lodge and what constitutes the town of Boulder:

If you look closely you can see our trusty jeep hiding next to our room, above.

This is what the rest of Boulder looks like:

Okay just kidding, but really, it is just a bunch of scattered farm homes. Luckily, there was also a Sinclair station and convenience store just down the road (it was the only gas or grocery in town), so at least I was still able to get my morning shot of diet coke before heading out for the day.

But the gem of the lodge (and town) is unquestionably Hell's Backbone Grill, which grows all the food it cooks at its own farm just down the road, and which has a 27 food rating from Zagats.  You can trust that rating -- Kathleen and I ate here at least six times, and did not regret a single bite.  Run by Blake and Jennifer, two kind ladies who take everyone in like family--employees and guests alike, the restaurant has also been reviewed by the New York Times, Sunset Magazine and Oprah, so if you don't trust us, check them out.  Blake even let us visit the farm where they grow the food they cook (and asked us to pitch in with some weeding -- family indeed!).  Here are some photos of the farm:

But as good as Hell's Backbone Grill can be, the real draw here is what you find just down the road from town.  Route 12 between Boulder and Escalante may be one of the prettiest drives in all of Utah, and that is saying something.  The photo below may give you some idea, but definitely not the whole picture:

Drive it at sunrise or sunset and you will never be the same.  Half way between Boulder and Escalante on Route 12 is the trailhead to Calf Creek Falls, an oasis of green in this kaleidoscope of sandstone, and our first destination.

The trail is listed as 2.6 miles one way, but it feels like five, because half of it is pure sand.  Still, it is worth every step.

Would it surprise you to learn, that in this little stream, in the middle of this wilderness of rock, there were beavers and beaver dams?  That fact alone may tell you everything you need to know about how unique this place is. Besides that, it is just darn pretty.

It was a hot summer day, with plenty of people on the trail, so why no swimmers at the bottom of that luscious cascade?   BECAUSE IT IS COLD. Dang cold. Stinson Beach Cold (and trust me, that is saying something). It hurt to put your feet in it. Yet another surprise in this most interesting place.

After finishing our hike, we headed into Escalante for a snack and a cold diet coke (why does that stuff taste so good and cold?).  We learned that before Route 12, there was only one other way to get from Escalante to Boulder -- Hells Backbone Road.  With a name like that, of course we had to take it.  Here are a few pics from the trip back:

I am always amazed to see that something as soft as wood can split something as hard as rock the way these trees do. Talk about patience and how remarkable and resilient life is.  Not to mention just darn beautiful:

This was actually the worst part of the road, but thanks to the CCC's bridge building prowess, the jeep had smooth sailing over a pretty decent drop.

Route 12 and Hell's Backbone are not the only famous roads running out of Boulder though.   The Burr Trail, named after a 19th century rancher that ran his cattle along it, received national attention when it was paved by Grand County, even though it was in a designated Wilderness Study Area. Environmental groups and federal officials were up in arms.  The press was such that at the time, I remember thinking "why did those Grand County yahoos do that?"

But having now visited the place, I'll tell you what -- they were right. The road is spectacular, and should be enjoyed by all, not just those willing to brave it on foot in 100 degree weather. Here are a few shots of overviews and Long Canyon, all of which are just a couple of minutes from Boulder along the Burr Trail:

The holes in the sandstone are great examples of the reason this area is known as the "Water Pocket Fold." During rainstorms, water collects and then remains in the small sandstone pockets you see here.

And there is the infamous road.  There are times when the wilderness everywhere people drive me nuts.  Paving did nothing except increase access to a beautiful area, which will make more people care about this place, and that is important. I tend to be a protection minded person when it comes to Federal land, but I also think all people should be able to access and appreciate it, and that it doesn't really ever work without local cooperation and buy-in.  I think of how much I have benefitted from all the national park and forest service roads, largely cut by a Democratic administration in the 30s and 40s, and believe that if we all just behave sensibly, we can do these things right and enhance local and national commitment to our beautiful places.

Speaking of beauty, here is what the canyon looks like when you drive that road:

And this is what you find on the other end of Long Canyon:

The colors are astounding, like paint splashed everywhere.  As we descended ever further towards the borders of Capitol Reef National Park (the part that sticks south like a tail on the map), the road turned to dirt, as the Grand County Commissioners showed respect for the National Park.  Just after that transition happens, there is a small dirt road called Upper Muley Twist Canyon.

We decided to try it out, and it turned out to be one of the most amazing places we have visited in our great state.  Here is what greets you as you head towards Capital Reef and turn up Muley Twist:

It's like half the world decided to live at a 45 degree angle.  Some other highlights of Upper Muley Twist:

This water tunnel through the sandstone was really amazing.  Hate to be at the mouth of it during a hard rain . . .

But the real treat of Muley Twist comes at the very end of the road (passable by car anyway).  There is a small dirt parking lot at the base of a 3/4 mile trail, which leads to this:

It is called Strike Valley, and there is really no way to convey the sense of scale, but here are a couple of pictures with Kath in them, by way of the old college try:

The size of those uplifted slabs is really something to behold.  I have been to a lot of beautiful national park spots in my life, and this one holds up pretty well with any of them.  Yet I will be surprised if you can find many Utahans even that have been to this place. Sitting and watching the sun go down and the stars come up here could change your life.  Hopefully we will do that with the kids one day.

You can actually drive down into that valley, along this road:

which we did.  Strike Valley bottom has its own kind of beauty:

After a bit we headed back to the lodge to eat.  But as sunset approached, I was drawn back to route 12 for some final pictures at twilight.

Looking back on the trip, I think now when people ask me where Boulder, Utah is, I will simply say 'it is where God goes to paint when he is tired of sunsets.'