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...
Saturday, December 15, 2018
Sunday, December 9, 2018
Sunday, December 2, 2018
In a speed-of-light world that oft seems to be racing toward demise, we all need a constant...something steadfast to hold on to as the years race by. For me it is our far flung Family.
Thursday, November 29, 2018
Lord Almighty. What is today, Wednesday...Thursday? And what timezone? Finally, we get to settle down on Lovely Ouray's home turf...
Saturday, November 24, 2018
It would take too long and too much of your precious time to button up all our boondocking/biking/hiking/exploring experiences in Southwest Utah over the past month. Thus I've dealt the preponderance of drivel and photographic minutiae the same fate as poor Anne Boleyn's head. You're welcome.
Thursday, November 15, 2018
Break On Through Conclusion: Plus a digression on "How we are loving our favorite National Park to Death"
Last you read, a foursome of bewildered over-the-hill Geezers were four hours invested in a farcical attempt to orienteer a wilderness back-country loop-route around "the mountain." Why? Because two of us knew it had been done before, and because it was there...like, defiant and thus oh so tempting.
Wednesday, November 7, 2018
You know the day destroys the night
Night divides the day
Tried to run
Tried to hide
Break on through to the other side
Break on through to the other side
Break on through to the other side, yeah
Break on through to the other side...The Doors
Sunday, November 4, 2018
Saturday, October 27, 2018
I never tire of meandering Zion's red pavement. Somehow, the park wouldn't be so divine without it...
Monday, October 22, 2018
Saturday, October 20, 2018
Monday, October 15, 2018
Monday, October 8, 2018
Thursday, October 4, 2018
Gratitude: An attitude of appreciation and reverence for all things past — the munificence of downhill glides as well as the lessons of uphill ascents.
Anticipation: Looking forward to Gratitude.
Tuesday, October 2, 2018
Fall came mid-September this year, early by a couple weeks. But aspen and oak brush colors have been in a brilliant and beautiful holding pattern. I wish I could say the same for the forecast, as today is the first of 10 to 12 days of rain, then snow, followed by more rain and dismal grey clouds that tend to suffocate needy outdoor types. Could be the time has come to bail Goldie out of jail.
Saturday, September 29, 2018
Friday, September 28, 2018
Monday, September 17, 2018
"Remind me to get my depth perception checked," I said to Bobbie, who either couldn't hear me over her grunts and groans and heavy breathing, or couldn't care less about anything I had to say while battling a ridiculous slope of slip-slide talus.
Saturday, September 15, 2018
We are taken by surprise on Tuesday's drive over Red Mountain Pass, looking for some new "dots" to add to our grid. Autumn colors are about to peak, earlier than usual by a week or more. Even though it happens every year, the kid in me can't help feeling it's brand new.
Thursday, September 13, 2018
Wednesday, September 5, 2018
Stretching both my legs and the limits of a senescent memory on a lonely Woods Lake trail, I recalled how, even as a child, it never took long to outgrow my front yard and neighborhood. I must have been four or five when we moved to an almost new tract-home on La Mirada street in south Phoenix. Only a few blocks distant, South Mountain filled the frame of our living room's "picture window," as did the flash-boom summer monsoon lightning storms that discharged on its rocky ridge-lines.
Saturday, September 1, 2018
Wednesday, August 29, 2018
Tuesday, August 28, 2018
Friday, August 24, 2018
Last week a longtime friend, Martha, came up from Albuquerque to spend a week with her daughter in Montrose. It had been a while since Martha had hiked a mountain, let alone above timberline. So she called Bobbie. Who better to call for an alpine "fix?"
Saturday, August 18, 2018
Imagine skimming along at 13,000 feet, an undulating path underfoot. You're alone, above timberline, above the urban fray of political bullshitters, tedious Face-bookers and mass murdering psychopaths...above all the sordid megalomanic news of corporate greed and corruption. I tell ya, folks, now more than ever, depleted spirits cry out in desperate need of a wilderness recharge. Nothing—not drugs, alcohol or money—fills empty vessels with peace and contentment quite like a lonely alpine trail.
Thursday, August 16, 2018
Thursday, August 9, 2018
Tuesday, July 31, 2018
Sunday, July 29, 2018
"I discovered a passion to live my days fully, a conviction that will sustain me like sweet water on the periodically barren plain of our short lives.” Jonathan Waterman
Sunday, July 22, 2018
We had all day to play above timberline. No threat of thunder and lightning, just deep blue sky overlaid with a smattering of vaporous white clouds, and a carpet of endless rolling tundra to hike on... now all greened up from recent monsoons. Perfect time to dig something out of the ole bucket of lists and get 'er done...
Saturday, July 21, 2018
Friday, July 20, 2018
"What we want from art is whatever is missing from the lives we are already living... Something is always missing. Jane Hirshfield
Wednesday, July 4, 2018
I sent out invitations to a few friends to join us for a hike to Bullion King Lake and beyond. Bobbie and I have been itching to try the "beyond" part—up and over the saddle/pass above Bullion King basin—a cross-county search for Columbine Lake. In the ineffable words of Gomer Pyle, "sir-prize, sir-prize, sir-prize;" Nobody responded to my invitation. Maybe it was the vague wording...or the distinct possibility of an endless, high altitude traipse across tundra and scree and boulders that ends with a 911 call...
Thursday, June 28, 2018
Wednesday, June 27, 2018
Perspective is such a relative construct. When in a room indoors we sense the boundaries and fill it to the brim with self. Only when outdoors, on top of a mountain, can we realize that we are not the story. Just a ripple from a pebble tossed into the sea.
Tuesday, June 26, 2018
Wednesday, June 20, 2018
A Soaring Ascent Up Mount Abram...because it's there and because we still can and because we still remember the way
"Stories are compasses...we navigate by them, build our sanctuaries and prisons out of them. To be without a story is to be lost in the vastness of a world that spreads in all directions like arctic tundra..." The Faraway Nearby, by Rebecca Solnit
Monday, June 18, 2018
Sunday, June 10, 2018
Friday, June 1, 2018
Thursday, May 31, 2018
Wednesday, May 30, 2018
Bobbie had to work yesterday so I would be flying solo. I was in desperate need of a summit and not just any summit would do. No, I needed a mind-blowing, Land of Oz, come to sweet Jesus and weep kind of summit.
Monday, May 28, 2018
So I'm sitting in my faux leather hearthside chair. It's early of a morning and my abused, aching legs are gently propped on a padded footstool. I'm half crippled from vigorous back to back days on the trail.
My iPhone pings; a short text from Leon reads: "Log Hill?" Ugh...