The sad lessons of life and death

It was bothering me all day. A story in the news yesterday about a young man, Siaosi Brown, age 22, who was killed when he slipped trying to cross a waterfall in Bells Canyon. So sad that a life was taken away that young. So sad that it happens nearly every year in that particular canyon that someone takes a risk they shouldn't take and loses their life. I know that risk, because a few years ago, I was tempted myself.
The water in that area in some places flows through narrow channels, narrow enough that someone with enough ability could jump across. Wanting to get onto those rocks on the other side makes the temptation that much stronger. You want to see if you can do it. That is your only thought--making it across.

The day I nearly tried it, I sat there and looked at it for fifteen minutes trying to decide if I could do it or not. The thing is, the rocks that you want to jump onto across the narrow stream are sloped. The water, especially during spring runoff, is swift and the channels, more like water slides than you could possibly believe. One slip and you are in the water, being pushed along with nothing to grab onto--no way to stop yourself before...
There is a drop off. It isn't extremely high--nothing like Yellowstone Falls, for example, either in height or water volume. But falling off of that 30-40 foot falls is enough to hurt you badly, so that you would likely be unconscious by the time you hit bottom and end up drowning.

Yellowstone Falls

After fifteen minutes of trying to find a safe way to cross that day, I gave it up. There is risk, and there is stupid risk. A person can have a lot of fun without succumbing to the temptations of stupidity. As for me, choosing not to do the stupid, has kept me alive for many more adventures. Turning back when I wasn't sure of my actions preserved me for many more hikes, camping trips, and picnics.
I would like to encourage those reading this to never take unnecessary chances when it comes to waterfalls, and be careful around water in general. A few years ago there was another such accident when a young man tried to wade across Big Cottonwood Creek during runoff. Don't let it be you.

Sometimes this is the only thing that works

The Indian flute music of R. Carlos Nakai. Sometimes is the only thing that can portray how I feel.

Hiking: Broads Fork

I hadn't been up on the Broads Fork trail for at least ten years, so I thought I'd give it a shot this morning. After all, it's Memorial Day weekend and the crowds would be huge on most of the trails, or so I thought. Lake Blanche being highly popular, and from the same parking area, I had already made up my mind to do Broads to try and have less company. As it was, I ended up being the first one on that trail, even starting as late as I did, which was 8:11. No one passed me on the way up, and as I was going down, I only saw six people. Not quite what I expected, even from the Friday of a holiday weekend.
The trailhead is accessed at the bottom of the S-curve in Big Cottonwood Canyon.The trail itself was moderately difficult. It starts out pretty steep right out of the parking lot, but levels off here and there along the route. Being alone, I had a lot of time to think and take whatever pics I wanted. The sky was overcast so I didn't quite get the contrast in my photos that I would like, but it was still a lot of fun trying to get good shots. When I'm hiking--especially alone--I mess around with my camera a lot as you'll see from the pics below.
I got up to the bowl just before 11:00, sat down and ate my lunch, and looked at the Beautiful scenery. I had been surprised at how little snow was on the trail below, but I was not surprised at all at how much snow still remained on the peaks. I was halfway tempted to hike through it over to where the stream was cascading down, just to see if I could get some good shots, but I had told my wife that I would be home by three and I had a stop or two to make along the way home so I decided against that idea. I took some pics, then headed back down.

My wife said if I wasn't home by three, I'd be sleeping on the
couch. I was happy to.

It was a great hike. I highly recommend it for those who want a trail with some scenery, but that isn't as popular as some of the other nearby trails.

A glimpse of the Oquirrhs across the valley.

Broads Fork, like all the local streams, is a raging torrent.

The upper portion of the trail is extremely Beautiful.
From this point a trail forked to the right. I suppose it went
further up, but vanished beneath the snow.

No selfie stick needed!

The ant crawled up just as I took the shot.

Flowers just beginning to appear. The key is for size comparison.

This is my favorite shot of this particular trip.

The call of the mountains

I sit and wait. High in the mountains, the snow still measured in feet, tries to melt to accommodate alpine sojourners for a short summer, hiking, backpacking, or fishing. My time is not yet, but soon. Soon I will be breathing faster in anticipation of once again being in the forest, among the cliffs, high in the Wasatch, Uinta, or any other mountain range I can get to. Already, I feel the pull of the timberline, and the call of the fresh air.
I don't have my new hiking shoes yet, but my old ones, still breathing--even more so with the extra holes that are working their way through the outer fabric--will still carry me up onto the wind-scoured peaks and ridges on trails likely used for millennia, first by wild animals, then later, by Native Americans, before finally becoming trails for throngs of people wanting, like me, to just get away and see some country--the high country.

Part of the Mt. Nebo trail

The view from Kings Peak is what it's all about

Eagles and hawks live here among the cliffs. Marmots, and pikas abound in the rocky scree. I long to watch the raptors circle the peaks, hoping for a tasty meal, perhaps of a pika or marmot. The freedom of flight is magnificent to watch.
And then, for me, there is God. When John Denver penned the words, "you can talk to God and listen to the casual reply" in his hit song, Rocky Mountain High,  he was without knowing it, penning the path of my life. So often I have poured my heart out to Him, when I'm in some far away, remote place.

Hiking in the off-season has its risk and rewards too.
This is an October hike to the Notch in the Uintas.

There is always danger in nature. If not to the rodents, to those who venture in. No one knows when something might happen that could keep them from returning home. A fall, lightning strikes, getting lost, bear attacks--those are all part of the risk of heading out into the wilds. They are part of the thrill. If you don't put yourself out there, you don't live a life--and I don't mean just in the outdoors.
So I await my next adventure. It is always calling me. This life is too short to ignore it. So get up. We're burnin' daylight.

Hawk on the Lone Peak Trail.

I'm Not in Love - 10cc

I'm Not in Love by 10cc is perhaps one of my favorite songs ever. The reason being is that to me it seems like the words of the lead vocalist mean the exact opposite of what he's singing. When he says "I'm not in love" he's really desperately in love, and when he says "that doesn't mean you mean that much to me" what he's really saying is "You are all I've got. Don't ever leave me".  The feeling behind the song is strengthened by the background vocalist saying, "big boys don't cry" over and over again. The guy is definitely head over heels in love and that's what makes it so wonderful. Because love is. The actual story of the writing of this song is awesome and can be found here: clickety-click

Hiking: Yellow Fork Canyon

I have been on vacation this past week and due to life's circumstance, haven't had much of a chance to get out and hike. Friday, I made arrangements to do so. I had limited time and wanted to go someplace fairly close to home. I also wanted to go somewhere I'd never been. I had heard about Yellow Fork Canyon in Utah's Oquirrh Mountains earlier in the week, and since I hadn't done much hiking in the Oquirrhs, decided to give it a shot.
Let me say that first of all, I had a hard time finding it. It wasn't hard to find, it was just that I had a hard time finding it. I had not been able to find details as to directions to the trailhead, and the closest thing to details was "just follow Rose Canyon Road to the end and you'll find it". But that had been a few days before I left. When I arrived in Herriman Friday morning, I had no idea where Rose Canyon Road was. I stopped in at McDonald's and asked there if anyone knew where Rose Canyon Road was. No one did. I was having trouble getting my phone to connect to the internet for some reason, and I couldn't look it up.
I left McDonald's and since I already had some idea of where Yellow Fork Canyon might be, I drove around looking for Rose Canyon Road. I came across a road called Rosecrest Road and thought to myself that maybe I had it wrong and that the real name of the road I was supposed to be on was Rosecrest, not Rose Canyon. After driving up and down Rosecrest, I decided that it couldn't possibly be the right road, and after several attempts to get my phone to work, it finally did and I was able to GPS it to Rose Canyon Road.
Once on that road it was just a matter of following it, because the trailhead truly was at the end of that road. Unfortunately, I was unable to figure out where you would normally get on Rose Canyon Road because from Rosecrest, my GPS took me through subdivisions etc., to get there, which isn't the best route. And I was planning on noticing on the way out where the road began, but got a text from my sprinkler installer saying that my "son", which was actually my grandson Jack, was trying to help them and was getting in their way and could I deal with it because they were about to start using the trencher and didn't want him to get hurt. So I was busily trying to get a hold of Ann, so that she could tell Rebecca to go and get her son and that made me forget to notice where Rose Canyon Road began. I'm thinking though that if you get on 134th South in Herriman and head west that you won't miss it. And if you get out there and can't find it, use your GPS!
Once at the trailhead, there are several directions you can go. There's a map there, but I stared at it and tried to figure it out, and couldn't really do so. I noticed that part of the Bonneville Shoreline Trail ran through the area though. I chose a trail that went to the left, across a wooden bridge. This trail ended up following the ridge line, thus, it was the harder trail, but got me up high a lot quicker than any other direction would have done, and thus was a blessing in disguise. The trail was rocky and muddy, both because of the recent torrents of rain we've received. The rocks looked like what you see when all the soil has been washed away around them, so the water must've run down that trail pretty good.

Right after I left the trailhead, the trail started up the ridge.

I liked the way the light was shining on these moss-covered scrub
oak trunks.

A lot of flowers are coming out right about now.

After a while of walking the ridge, I began to wonder if I would ever come across a trail that would lead me down into Yellow Fork Canyon, which was to my right. I kept looking and walking, occasionally leaving the trail to look off to the side, taking pics.

Looking southeast

To me this kind of looked like a landscape on Mars if Mars had any plant life

View to the south

A bit to the northwest.

The mixture of clouds and sunlight allowed for some interesting views.

I saw this lichened rock from a distance and further away it looked like crop circles to me.

The views are great, and I could tell that if I had more time in the day to spend hiking that getting up higher would be even better. After about an hour and a half, I found an old road that headed down into the canyon. The trail on the ridge continued up and I decided that I would come back on another day for more exploration. Certainly with all the private property in those mountains, largely due to Kennecott and others, I had spent far less time exploring them than I would have liked. Incidentally, there is more access to the Oquirrhs from the Tooele side of the range.

This is where I turned right and went down into the canyon.
As you can see, the trail continues up along the ridge.

I continued down the road into the canyon below.

While the ridge line trail had been muddy, the road was even muddier.

Another canyon had opened up that led down into Yellow Fork, and I followed the road through this canyon down to the junction with Yellow Fork.

In the middle of the pic is the clearing where the road came down from the ridge.
The trail in the foreground is the trail in the bottom of Yellow Fork Canyon.

The canyon bottom was an entirely different experience than the ridge line had been. At the junction, I noticed that the trail continued on up and marked that one down too for further exploration. So many hikes, so little time!

Deer tracks were everywhere in the fresh mud.

There are a lot of deer along this trail system, and while up on the ridge, I had spotted some on a distant hillside. Tracks were plentiful in the mud.

The canyon bottom trail will definitely be the shadiest and coolest.

I saw this shelter someone had made.
It was a good nine feet tall.

One of many picnic areas. The rest didn't have tables.

One half mile from the trailhead, I found a group of picnic tables, and considering the scrub oak and other lower elevation plant life, and how wood ticks like that kind of brush, I composed a little poem in my head:

If you're gonna have picnics

Watch out for wood ticks.

A pretty little stream flowed near the picnic grounds.

Not a real extensive poem, as you can see, but very informative. I think I'll put that on a poster.

I arrived back at the trailhead and shucked my pack and my jacket, then went over to look at the map again. I still couldn't figure it out. I will have to look the area up in my map book that has quadrants of the entire state. I was actually doing pretty well on my handheld GPS until the batteries died. Oh yeah, always replace your batteries before you go. I would've, but I thought that there was no way I could get lost at this place so I didn't worry about it.

I would recommend this hike, especially the lower portion through the canyon, for anyone desiring an easy, kid-friendly hike. I would possibly wait for the trail to dry up if I was taking small children up there, and I would probably avoid the ridge with younger kids. 

All in all, while it wasn't as spectacular as some hikes I've been in, it was quiet and peaceful and I only saw a few people, all of them on the canyon floor. It was a good opportunity to get out and explore some place I'd never hiked before. It was a chance to unwind, and to think, and I never turn down that kind of activity.

For those interested in the extensive planning going on for this part of the Oquirrhs: Clickety-click

Return of the wasps

Those of you who have read most of my previous posts know that I have had an all out battle with wasps. Last year, they made their nest, or at least one of them, in between some pieces of sod that I had thrown in my trailer while I was waiting for a full load to take to the dump. This year, they are in my shed. Well, they got in my shed last year too, but because they were in an easily accessed part of the shed, it was hardly worth mentioning because I took care of them easily. Not so this time. The shed in question resembles this one:

The shed looks like this one and the wasps are flying in and landing
just above the doorway, out of sight.

I found out there was a nest inside when I opened it to retrieve my fertilizer spreader and several of the winged beasts flew out at me. Since I couldn't tell where that nest was above the doorway, and I didn't want to go poking around to find it, I set about trying to figure out how to get rid of them without putting myself or others at risk.
I first got my handy can of wasp spray and tried just soaking the edge along the top of the doorway. They were still flying in and out after that. So I darted over to Home Depot and picked up a fogger. I put a sheet of plastic in front of the doorway, put some duct tape on the sides to keep the breeze from blowing it out of the way, and used some rocks on the top and bottom to hold that in place. Then I sat the fogger inside and pushed the button. I saw several wasps fly out against the clear plastic and attempt to escape, but I also saw some of the mist coming out the cracks of the shed. I figured that it probably didn't hold the mist in long enough to kill the wasps, but the instructions say not to go in there until four hours have passed.
I'm thinking that I'm not going to use fire this time to drive them out.
If I'm still seeing wasps tomorrow, I may need to dress up in protective gear and just stick my hand/arm inside the shed and spray all along that edge, just hoping to get them. That makes me nervous though because I don't want to end up spraying myself in the face by turning the nozzle toward me on the other side of the metal, and then suddenly finding a seam.
I really need to fertilize my lawn though, and both the fertilizer and the spreader are in there. It will rain tomorrow and if the rain gets inside the shed, it's going to ruin the fertilizer, so I've either got to kill the wasps and shut the door, or not kill the wasps and shut the door.
So many adventures, so little time...

Rarin' to go

I sit here at my computer, wanting desperately to be doing something active. I'm dreaming of future hikes, backpacking trips, road trips, visits to places I've never been, and just doing things. My heart longs for the places of openness, for feel of the wind in my face and the rain trickling down my neck, my sodden clothes clinging to my body--for the smell of evergreens and the sound of sprue needles catching the breeze.
I long to be skiing, driving on dirt roads, taking pictures of mountains.
I want to be out in the garden feeling the warmth of the soil in my fingers, and the sun on my back. The call to adventure and life is ever strong. And now I face such adventure in the need to care for another. It isn't as thrilling as scaling a peak, or watching a river cascade down through the rocks, and my dream has never been to be stuck at home caring for someone. But right now, it is the thing I must do. And I have decided that I may as well be happy about it rather than sad.
I am happy and grateful that I still have a wife. She could have died a few times already. I am happy and grateful that God has blessed me with good health and a strong body, so I can be up to the task. I am happy and grateful that I was born with an optimistic spirit, that I always believe there's a light at the end of the tunnel, and that my will to survive and win is as strong as ever.
This won't be the last adventure I face. I'm hoping that most of them are a bit more exciting and thrilling. I'm hoping that this one ends happily. Most of all, I'm hoping that through all of life's adventures that I always remember God is the one in control.

Hal Ketchum: Past the Point of Rescue

Hal Ketchum's Past the Point of Rescue, from 1991 is a country classic love song. I am learning this song right now on guitar. If you have never heard it, you're in for a treat.

Short hike: Grandeur Peak

Yesterday I got a chance for a break from my care giving duties and decided to take a hike. My choice of destination was Grandeur Peak--or as far up the trail as I could go before my time limit expired. I chose that because I didn't want to find my spikes for snow hiking. I had a pair of micro spikes that I had found abandoned and slightly rusty at Lake Blanche a few years ago. I had never even looked at them since then and when I did, I found that they were extra large. I'm pretty sure I wear medium. Still, I threw them in the pack just in case. If any of you reading this are missing some,  and lost them at Blanche, if you can identify them, they are yours. Otherwise, I'd be willing to trade them with someone who bought mediums or large by mistake and need extra large.
This trail begins at the Church Fork Picnic area up in Millcreek Canyon. I started at about 8:30 from the main road that goes up the canyon, as this time of year, you can't drive into the actual picnic site where the trailhead parking is located.
The stream through the picnic area was rather pretty, so I took some shots of it as I leisurely followed it up the Church Fork drainage.

The trees didn't have their leaves yet ,but there was some green along the stream. I saw a lot of horse tail, what we used to call "snake grass". We used to make whistles out of it, and for the life of me, I can no longer figure out how we did it. If any of you know, I'd appreciate a head's up.

We used to call this "snake grass". Its real name is "horse tail"
If you know how to make whistles with the segments
I really want to know too.

I did a lot of stopping to take pics and that might have cost me my chance at summiting the peak itself, which rises just above 8200 feet. I needed to be home by noon though, and that's clear across the Salt Lake Valley, so I figured getting back to the 4runner at 11:30 was the plan. At around 9:55, I hit the final saddle before the final approach to the peak and there I reached a milestone. I actually caught an old guy in his seventies. I had no idea how far ahead of me he'd been on the trail from the time I began the hike, but it's pretty rare that I can catch one of these old mountain goats and pass them.
The way I figured it, I had been making great strides at the gym on the Stair Climber machine, having been doing around 36 minutes on the thing twice a week. I really think that helped my ascent on this trail. I don't have the exact figures, but it's around 1700-1800 feet in elevation gain to the saddle in around two miles. Usually that would be kicking my rear end, but this time I felt pretty strong the whole way--well except for the first part and I always struggle at first, until I get warmed up.
I looked around from the saddle. The cloudiness and general grayness of the overcast sky had not been relieved from the time I began until I reached the saddle, and I never saw the sun except through the clouds until I was most of the way back down. There's a nice view of the city and some great views of the surrounding peaks.

The sun was fighting valiantly to break through the cloud cover above the mountains to the southeast.

Looking down into the Salt Lake Valley.

The view from the saddle is excellent though and I would like to go back again, not only to scale the peak, one of the easier ones in the Wasatch Range, but to take in the views on a less gray day.
All in all it's a great little hike and pretty easy for anyone in decent shape. Since I have not done the last part, up to the top, I won't vouch for that, but the rest of it could be done, up and back in three hours, just like I did. The rest of the way up? That's another adventure for another day. I'll be up for it. Will you?

Kenny Rogers' "Lady" is a truly great love song

Kenny Rogers was once at or near the top of the popular music market. This is one of his greatest songs. I think my favorite line is You're the love of my life, you're my lady. Listen and enjoy.

On writing my personal history

I have been working on my personal history for over a year off and on. I've written about forty pages as of today, and am only up to age 26--and that's leaving out the boring stuff! I will need to totally rewrite it when I'm done because I began by putting it in categories, such as school, friends, work, sports, etc., but find that as I've gone on, I've been going by locations where I've lived and included some of the same things as duplicates (most likely, as I haven't yet taken the time to go back and read through the other stuff). That's okay though, as long as I get all my events and thoughts about those events down, I can always edit it later.
It's been interesting going back and remembering. Things early on often are formative in a person's life later on. My main goal with it is to show my posterity why I was the way I was. I think it's nice to know who one's parents and grandparents really are, and I intend to give that gift to them, and in the process show them what my choices and desires in life materialized, show them what went into my decision-making process for major things I've done in my life, and to hopefully get them to forgive me for any harm I may have caused or caused from their perceptions.
After all, it's only a human life, filled with the same kinds of mistakes, loves, achievements or lack thereof, dreams, adventures, and challenges of any other human being. God never made us perfect, only with His characteristics, and the ability to become perfected through Him.
It is a struggle I work on every day of my life, and filling in the details of how that struggle happened, I think in the long run will be beneficial to my offspring and theirs, and in some way pay a penance for my own struggles in life, and a road map as to how my triumphs occurred when I was blessed enough to have them.
In the end it will be rather lengthy, but fascinating. At least, as a writer, I hope to make it so by the time my final draft is complete, and my final chapter written. I don't know how that last bit will turn out yet, and someone else may have to finish, but by the end, my children will know a whole lot more about me. And I think that's a good thing.