Box Canyon Blog.com
"We are here to unlearn the teachings of the church, state, and our educational system. We are here to drink beer. We are here to kill war. We are here to laugh at the odds and live our lives so well that Death will tremble to take us." C. Bukowski
NOTE: Open post and then Single Click On first Post Photo to view an album in a more detailed, larger format...
Friday, November 30, 2012
Had I seen that trailside rattlesnake in Santa Clara Canyon before hiking the Right Fork Trail, I wouldn't have gambled hands and lower legs to venomous serpents for all the gold in heaven, money in Vegas, nor postcards in Zion. That Fatboy Slim was coiled and ready to strike.
Tuesday, November 27, 2012
It was an ordinary November day in Virgin-town, the kind we've grown to expect. Sixty-something highs under SPF 50 skies. The vertiginous back road snaking up Flying Monkey Mesa nibbled at the Outback of my mind, beckoning, "Come on! Let's go break a sweat... shed some testosterone."
Sunday, November 25, 2012
Friday, November 23, 2012
Flying Monkey Mesa,Virgin, Utah:"The neat aspect of takeoff, was as soon as you left the ground you passed over the edge of the mesa and were immediately 1,500 feet in the air.”
Tuesday, November 20, 2012
Sunday, November 18, 2012
Geology is not all that different than Psychology, really. Admittedly, Geologists have a little more "science" on their side because experiments with the earth's properties tend to behave in more repeatable, thus, predicable, patterns than the psychological constructs of human personality. One thing common to both Geo and Social Studiers is that they examine subjects in "layers," one, with picks and shovels (if a river canyon isn't handy), and the other, with probing questions. So, in a sense, both dig for evidence... pealing back layers of time one by one... delving deeper into their subjects "history" for answers to today's questions. Perhaps Pearl Buck said it best, "If you want to understand today, you have to search yesterday." So let's do that, let's examine yesterday, shall we, how my little tantrum ended up getting pal Boonie "burned at the stake."
Friday, November 16, 2012
"Why Can't We All Just Get Along?" Sheesh, there I go quoting Rodney King when I should be quoting Rodney Dangerfield, or, maybe Aretha Franklin... take your pick. You see, I get no "respect" from pal Boonie when it comes to "Postcards." He just can't help himself... can't keep his big mouth shut. I shouldn't even waste a blog post on this... again... but Boonie's "gauntlet" stings. It left a big red welt on my poor defenseless cheek. On guard, my friend!
Thursday, November 15, 2012
The longer I live the more I know, and this I have come to know as truth for me. Life's meaningful pleasures and treasures are not sprinkled along routine Interstates near home. They are found off the beaten path, in deserts rich with emptiness, mountains blessed with solitude, and along Blue Highways less traveled. "Chuck routine. Live the real jeopardy of circumstance... go!" Blue Highways, William Least Heat-Moon.
Tuesday, November 13, 2012
Sunday, November 11, 2012
A few days ago the Wise-Ones and John-Sons hatched a spontaneous plan to hike Hidden Canyon. I won't say who, but Susan (oops) sometimes gets a little nervous in precipitous places. Like Angel's Landing, Hidden Canyon Trail is not for the faint of heart.
Friday, November 9, 2012
I'm seated at Goldie's dated dinette, listening to a soft rain pitter pat her roof. The volume and intensity rises and falls like movements in a symphony. What music to sun scorched ears, salve to dry skin. Indigenous red dirt and rocks of Zion reflects rosy purple hues on dark bottomed clouds as they stream south to north, accounting for an unseasonably mild 63 degrees at seven AM.
Wednesday, November 7, 2012
Monday, November 5, 2012
Walking Zion's hallowed canyons has a way of reordering one's priorities and ego. If you don't believe it, it's because you haven't been here. From Kings to Kingdomites, Presidents to Citizens, CEOs to Worker Bees, it's as if a "Reset" button is pushed; "Wow, maybe I'm not so big and important after all."
Sunday, November 4, 2012
Saturday, November 3, 2012
On our last day camped in Red Cliffs Recreation Area, we made a short drive to the Kolob section of Zion National Park... looking to add another notch in our hiking belts and bask in the glory of a beautiful sunny day in a beautiful sunny place. Taylor Creek captured our interest. It looked to meander up a murky bottomed canyon. High-rising walls of sunlit sandstone bolted upright, reflecting an eerie nuclear pink glow upon the shadows.
Friday, November 2, 2012
A big thanks to Jim and Gayle of Life's Little Adventures... and Debbie, a fellow solo RV'er (and mustn't leave out Elliot, her cute little dog... the one that leapt into my lap and wet kissed me right on the mouth before we were properly introduced). It was the Life Adventurers that informed us about Red Cliffs Recreational Area, a great place to camp just south of of Leeds, Utah. There's only twelve campsites so it's quiet. A nice creek babbles along under a canopy of Cottonwoods at the mouth of a hike-able red rock canyon. Aptly named "Red Cliffs" is so colorful and purdy it'll make your eyes bleed, and well worth the hour of circling it takes the GPS-less to find in broad daylight. Let's just say, "It's not well signed!"
Thursday, November 1, 2012
There is a great canyon wash at the end of the road in Capital Reef National Park. It runs dry as a bone, carved nowadays by intermittent flash floods. It's a great slot canyon to wander, but not so narrow that it produces heebie jeebies in anxiety prone hikers. In fact, Capital Gorge is just wide enough that early pioneers used it as a scenic route into the park before it was a "park," first in wagons, and later on in Model T Fords. One particular wall is called the Pioneer Registry. It's graffitied with names and dates going back to the 1800's. We thought that pretty cool, until we discovered pictograph "graffiti" that predated the "pioneers" by a couple thousand years :)). How easy (and convenient) it is to forget that we are "the immigrants."