Spring Canyon Hike and Much Ado About Nothing: Un-wad Your Panties, People!

Let's flashback to Capitol Reef for a seemingly endless 13? mile hike up "groovy baby" Spring Canyon, featuring hikers Suzanne, Debbie, Jim, Gayle, Bobbie and your's truly.

Scrambling To The Depths of Hidden Canyon With The Gang and Lovely World Travelers, Nina and Chantel

What ever could a lovely young Canadian chef and Swiss nurse have in common with a bunch of old geezers? Not much, really…at their age they could well have been grandchildren. But Jim does not discriminate when it comes to a fairer sex "audience," they were trapped—like mice in a maze—forced to hike and listen to an old fart, and I mean that quite literally :). I was not as much at liberty to flirt amongst the gargantuan boulders in the depths of Hidden Canyon, as Bobbie was still managing to conquer said "boulders," leading our expedition beyond our deepest penetration ever. Gayle and the gang had invoked the "common sense rule" at one particularly difficult (dangerous) choke-stone impasse. Curious Jim would not be denied what lay beyond, nor new ears for his tales.  

Heaven's Gate

As Goldie slipstreamed behind Jim and Gayle into Zion Sunday, I realized that sometimes it's the little things that endear one to a person, place, or thing. For me, it's always been the sinuous red cinder pavement in Zion—improbably etched and tunneled through a canyon labyrinth—that warms my heart and tells me, "I'm Home."

Bryce On Fire

Greetings! After nearly a month of boondocking bliss in the Capitol Reef area, the RV seekers-of-redrock gang has moved south to set up a new camp on BLM lands near Virgin. Lazy Dazer Laura Lee showed up yesterday (not sure of her Blog's name yet) and Jim and Gayle spotted a couple more L. D. rigs they recognized in our vicinity. Seems the desert is gets a little more crowded every year. I fear it won't be long before Govie steps in and starts legislating (restricting) our bliss if this RV boondocking-for-free craze keeps snowballing, especially since a good many of the campers have ATV's and such things that leave a bigger "footprint." Has the "golden age" peaked? Or am I just being a spoiled brat part-of-the-problem whiner? Time will tell...

A Million Freaking Mormons, Part II: The Apocalypse

I guess I misunderstood. Might as well get used to it because it's happening more and more the older I get. Bobbie says I don't listen. I'm beginning to think that maybe she's right, but that's another blog post.

Little Wild Horses Couldn't Drag Us Away, But A Million Freaking Mormons? That's Another Story

Jumping ahead to current time: Sun-up, sitting in the car outside a Wi Fi bakery in Torrey, Utah—the most depraved, anorexic bandwidth capital of the world—trying to squeeze out a Postcard Post before moving on to yet another internet/cell phone vacuum known as Kodachrome (as in, "Momma please don't take it away"). Yes, today is moving day (sniff). Exhausted, sore footed, red dirt stains between toes, shoes still wet and muddy from wading the Fremont, the RV Gang is finally parting ways with Capitol Reef, and we do it under a cloud of sweet, sweet, sorrow. I will catch the BCB up eventually, as soon as we catch up with twenty-first century technology again. These Dial-up bandwidths are going to be the death of me, And if you think that's bad, poor Jim is in a comatose state of withdrawal.

Exploring A Very Cool Slot Canyon Down Pleasant Creek (Part II)

Pleasant creek was becoming more "pleasant" by the mile, slowly morphing from a run of the mill meandering stream, to a waterpark-like channel of grooved red slickrock. Note to self: Add inflatable flotation device and towel to backpack.

Exploring Pleasant Creek's Petroglyphs and a Very Cool Slot Canyon… Part I

Susan and Maikel assured us we would enjoy the petroglyphs along Pleasant Creek, and there was a "very cool" slot canyon to explore only four miles downstream. Let's see, four plus four equal eight freaking miles. I was tired as a tuckered out dog after chasing rabbits all day, feet sore as hell from too many hikes too many days in a row trying to keep up with Susan and her Capitol Reef bucket list. But, to semi-quote the lovely Ms Renee Zellweger in "Show Me The Money" (deep heartthrob sigh), she had me at "Hello slot canyon." It was only later, as in too late, as in locking the car and donning backpack too late, that I learned there would be no less than 13 stream crossings. Oh goody, multiple opportunities to pull a "Jim," ruin shoes, phone, camera, and take an unplanned dip in ice water.

Upper Muley Twist, Part II…A Surreal Semi-Slot Canyon Loop Hike

Some comings and goings around Camp Red Rock as of late. Boonie skeedadled AWOL under cover of dawn. Eight hours subsequent to Boonies desertion, "Take To The Highway" Suzanne rumbles in with a "Hi Ho" and a red cloud of dust—Tracker in tow behind her Winnie View, seemingly fully recovered from its recent heart transplant. Suzanne motored all the way from middle Texas, where bro "Doctor Don," an apparent Jack of all trades—including Chef—performed the meticulous and so-far-so-good procedure. Three Cheers, "Hip-hip..." Meanwhile, Allison and Jim are prepping to move their "Beaver(s)" south on Thursday. The remaining RV contingent will hold tight in Camp Red Rock, showing Suzanne some of the highlights, until the weather begins to require long pants, or blackwater tanks bulge... whichever comes first. 

A group hike to Golden Throne is on today's agenda, unless Little Adventures Jim is too hungover from last night's 3.2% "piss-water" beer. I guess I don't get it. In a state where talking heads look the other way regarding Polygamy and Prepubescent wives, Prohibition, of all things, is enforced with Sadam-like authority. Sadly, Utah's arbitrary, antiquated, and nonsensical liquor laws mandated us to wash down thick crust pizza with little more than carbonated water, which is totally unAmerican, if not downright dangerous (insert frown face here). 

Upper Muley Twist, Part 1

There are multiple outings warming up in the "Bull Pen," awaiting their turn on the BCB mound. But one bar at 1x = no uploads (sigh). I know, I know... what about the two wi fi goodie joints only three miles distant in Torrey? Well, I've gained 5 pounds using "free" hotspots... and lost damn near fifty bucks. I can attest that the pumpkin shakes at Slackers are to die for, and the muffins at Castlerock are just as lethal. Photo by photo, word by word, I will get you caught up. But first, let me wax poetic about about a curious wrinkle in the earth's crust known as The Waterpocket Fold.  Boonie devotees will want to exit here and now…

Sheets Canyon is one of many slot hikes on the Notem Road side of Capital Reef. Ms Ranger at the Park Headquarters information desk said we might encounter "ankle-deep water." What she didn't say was that the mud is much deeper than the water…and slippery, too! But these unexpected events are the building blocks of Adventure, right?

"Free" Wi Fi In Torrey, Utah…Gateway To Capital Reef

Sitting in a bakery/sandwich shop in sunny and mild Torrey, Utah, munching on a God-awful-good pumpkin muffin, and sucking down "free" wi-fi (ha ha) at 20 bucks per post. But the yummy in my tummy is worth every cent. Our boondock is down the road about three miles and the "gang's" all here, Wiseone's Susan and Maikel, Jim and Gayle, and Debbie, with lovable dogs Rupert and Elliot, with notable exceptions of Boonie, who assures us he's on his way, somewhere near Green River, and Suzanne... a "reluctant" new recruit to the "gang" that got blindsided by a blown motor in her Tacker Toad. Sadly, it required a trip to Texas to get a new/rebuilt engine installed by her brother, to whom her birthright will now be forever indebted. There may be a few more recruits showing up, time will tell. Let the "games" begin.

One Last Fall Album, On The Eve of Departure

A curve missed between between Durango and Lovely Ouray is the last mistake some drivers make. Carry just a little too much speed into a switchback, maybe hit some loose gravel or a patch of black ice in the wrong spot and you're in big double trouble. I'm intrigued by the automobile carnage left to rust away at the bottom of un-guardrailed portions of The Million Dollar Highway.