Sunday, May 26, 2013

Dangerous Imagination


Over the years of adventuring, I’ve come across a handful of “warning signs”.  Such as the following sign posted at the start of a canyoneering route in White Canyon, southern Utah.  



Yes, people have died in that canyon.  People have also died getting out of the bathtub.  Yes, the potential for danger* was present throughout the entire canyoneering route, yet being smart adults, we exited unscathed. 
*(nominal dangers such as: flooded sections filled with debris (think Star Wars trash compactor), upright log blocking path (created a loop step out of webbing that we had brought, so we could hoist ourselves up and over), and as the photo shows, one log holding back A LOT of debris)


Just a nominal danger....


Yesterday, I went hiking to the top of Yosemite falls and along the way I was warned about the potential for “rock fall”.  Yup, a rock could crash down upon me.  I see rocks littering the roadways quite often.  Alas, I again exited unscathed.

Upper Yosemite Falls and Half Dome 
The reward for hiking up dozens, DOZENS, of switchbacks


But alas, this Sunday morning I thought I’d entertain a gentle stroll to the Merced Grove of Sequoia trees.  Of course, at the trailhead I was greeted by the following sign (dated April 2013):


Well, too late, I drove a ways to get here and had imagined myself sitting beneath a Sequoia tree reading passages from John Muir’s “The Yosemite”.  I immediately found a weapon (I mean hiking stick) and in my mind ran through scenarios of how I would come out victorious against a mountain lion.

As I was hiking alone with my mind, off to the races went the imagination, and my senses heightened exponentially.  Mtn. lion? No, a squirrel running across a log, a flutter on the forest floor, just a bird. Why are there flies buzzing here? Begin the search for a dead animal stashed in the above tree limbs! Begin formulating a plan to descend from a 100 some foot Ponderosa Pine.  Good thing the bark has lots of texture aka foot and hand holds! I did make it to the grove of Sequoia trees, but heard something moving along the forest floor that I couldn’t discern, so 180* I went, keeping an eye over my shoulder.

After passing a man heading into the grove, I relaxed a bit knowing that there was another human along the trail. I managed to relax enough to take out the binoculars and pause to see a Winter wren, pileated and downy woodpecker, Dark-eyed junco (Oregon population), and listen to the ethereal call of the hermit thrush.  Did I learn my lesson about hiking alone, striding past signs warning about mountain lions?  Well, in the words of John Muir, “But in the face of Yosemite scenery cautious remonstrance is vain; under its spell one’s body seems to go where it likes with a will over which we seem to have scarce any control.” -The Yosemite

Sunday, May 19, 2013

The long and winding (well, truthfully straight) road


Over the years on cross-country trips, I’ve ventured off the highways to see both the beautiful and hokey: Covered Bridges of Madison County, Devils Tower, Field of Dreams, Corn Palace, Jackalope, etc…

BUT, there are always new things to be seen.  This recent highway traveling brought the following new sights:
A tree in the middle of the road: A surveyor was mapping the county lines, and he stuck his cottonwood walking stick in the ground here (on the county line), and from that the tree grew. (or so the story goes).  To find this one took a few adventurous turns on gravel roads... off of I-80.





Tree growing from a rock: Eastern Wyoming right in the median of East and West bound I-80.



Fossil Butte National Monument.  These are fossilized feathers!! Just west of Kemmerer, WY (also where the first J.C. Penny store opened in 1902). Just north off I-80 in western Wyoming.
Bonneville Salt Flats, a rest area provided the perfect location to walk out and fill my shoes with... salt. Western Utah along I-80.

Last but not least, a roadside fruit stand in California en route to Yosemite along Hwy 140.  Delicious!

Perhaps on my next journey I'll make it to the Spam museum in MN, or the Danish Windmill in Iowa.