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Before you read this just remember to say "That is a crazy person talking." In fact the only reason I am posting this is because I am amazed, in a sort of detached way, at my own irrationality. The crazy thing is that as of today, 7/20,I am still planning on running the White River 50 mile next weekend, even though my knee swelled up to the size of a small grapefruit last weekend!
Prior to last weekend's White River training runs I had been struggling with some pain/soreness in my right knee. I figure it might be tendinitis or something similar as a result of that twisting injury I had in February (I won't bore you with details). Of course the injury has likely changed from one bad thing to another and my professional diagnosis changes everyday! Anyway, I ran 18 miles on the road last Saturday and then the 23 mile trail run on Sunday. Even before the trail run my knee was swollen and there was a bit of soreness for the first several miles of the trail run. But I was able to complete the run and take a dip in the icy White River. I was hopeing that the river would miraculously heal the problem. No luck there. On Monday my knee was sore and swollen. Gradually the swelling has gone down thanks to my friends Mr. Nsaid and Mr. Ice but it is still a little sore 4.5 days later even though I haven't run at all! I may not even run a step up until the race since running isn't going to help for this injury (Craziness!!) Everything about this injury is screaming at me don't run.
That said, I am unwilling to cancel my plans to run the White River race. To be perfectly honest, I just don't want to miss out (there it is FOMO, again) on an awesome race, like I did for all my races last summer. I am starting to think that in order to run ultras I may just need to run with some injuries and hope for the best, because I am just to damn stubborn to quit. I figure I'll quit when the winter rains come and it is light outside for only 6 hours a day. So that is it! Enough of the bellyaching . . .or kneeaching!
It is gonna be awesome to see my running friends again and the views at Corral Pass and Suntop. There will be beer at the finish to dull the pain and swell the ego. It is going to be Legendary!
P.S.: I am not really sure why I was scowling in that photo? I can only guess it was because I was nearing the top of Suntop and tired of the uphill grind! (Thanks to Glen for the photo)
Last weekend I had the opportunity to meet and hike with Andrew Skurka who is currently attempting to complete the first ever "Great Western Loop". The loop is one of his own creation and it basically encircles the entire western portion of the contiguous U.S. He started at Grandview Point at the Grand Canyon, headed west to the Sierras, and headed north on the PCT until getting here to Washington. Soon he will head east on the Pacific Northwest Trail until meeting the Continental Divide Trail. He will go south on the CDT until reaching the Arizona Grand Enchantment trail and complete the loop at the Grand Canyon. You can check it out here: Andrew Skurka: Enlightened Outdoor Adventurer
Meeting Andy was no easy feat since he hikes 35 to 40 miles a day and can only occasionally make a phone call from one of his mail pick-ups. About 4 days before we met he called me from Cascade Locks. He had just arrived at the border between Oregon and Washington at the Columbia river and was set to leave on the following day. I believe the next section of the PCT from Cascade Locks to White Pass is approximately 140 miles. So I understood that he would be at White Pass on Saturday evening which would give him 4.5 days of hiking. We talked about meeting possibly the following week on the 4th of July, further north around Snoqualmie or Stevens Passes. But then I got thinking about my schedule and decided I should just try and catch him at White Pass. So I took off early on Saturday morning (June 30) thinking that I could hike south from White Pass, meet him and then hike back, north, to White Pass with him. When I arrived at White Pass at 8 AM I was pleasantly surprised to see a lone individual sorting food in an asphalt parking lot in front of a lonely service station. Andy had arrived that morning and already was preparing to hike another 35 miles north that day!
So we took off hiking and talking. I hiked for 5.5 hours with Andy and I don't think there was more than a minute or two without one of us talking. Usually I don't like to talk nearly so much when hiking but I figured that Andy was probably in dire need of some stimulating conversation. We talked thru-hiking logistics, multiple use and wise use of public lands, nutrition, forest and park fees, ultrarunning, general politics, global warming and Andy's lightweight lifestyle. I have to say I was impressed with Andy's idealism especially with regard to global warming and his idea to live on his own terms.
I hope I am not putting words in his mouth, but Andy seemed to be somewhat pissed off about how many people seem to be just waiting for life to begin. He told me that people are always coming up to him and telling him how much they would love to do what he is doing. And he just has to wonder 'So why aren't you doing it?' I have to agree that in this day and age many people are just taking up time and space, without ever resolving to do what they most want to do. But, I am not nearly as idealistic as Andy. I tried to explain that although it doesn't always seem like it, we all have basic needs like food, water and shelter. At a minimum these needs will control whether or not we take a 9 to 5 job just to pay the bills or set off to conquer a long trail, invent a new product, cure aids or help the homeless. The way I see it too many people get their needs and their wants mixed up. If you only have to satisfy your own basic needs then it can be very possible to chuck the 9 to 5 grind. Andy has already risked a lot by going out on the trail right after college, but it is starting to pay off, in the sense that he may be the only person who will be hiking for the next several months and getting paid for it. He works for and is sponsored by Golite. Idealism can be easy (or easier) when you have a steady income.
I know that personally for me, there are many goals that I have which have nothing at all to do with making a living or having a career. But that doesn't mean that I am going to leave a 9 to 5 job and devote 100% of my time to that one goal. I am trying to find ways to mix both work drudgery with my real passions. For instance, I will be hiking the John Muir Trail (220 miles) this September, but I won't be giving up my job to do it. I guess my young idealistic self has given way to an older and more realistic person.
It was a breath of fresh air to hear the views of an idealist, such as Andy. And I am glad I got to take a hike with someone who will likely change the world for the better. I am certain it takes some serious idealism to hike over 6,800 miles! Andy - Good luck and happy trails!
I am not sure why I do it, but I have forced myself, on occassion, to run to the track and do a little bit of so-called interval training. Yesterday happened to be one of those days. I usually plan these workouts early in the week so that I will have at least partly fresh legs. So this week I decided I would try the intervals again on Thursday after work. So the funny thing is all day yesterday I dreaded going to the track. I don't think it is just the pain of running hard that scares the wits out of me. It is that damn watch. Somewhere in the back of my mind I know that as I age I am losing speed and the track is where it will become glaringly obvious. An additional second on each lap portends the inevitable decline. Sometimes I think, I'd rather not know that I am becoming slower. It is not that I was fast in the first place, but at least for me, losing something I once had is so terribly bittersweet.
Anyway, I couldn't quite come up with a good enough excuse to miss the workout yesterday. So I jogged over to the track and decided to stick to the planned minimum workout 3 x 1600 meters with 3 minutes rest in between. I know this workout is not really the correct one for my training goals, but it has become the standby, at least until I feel like I am in shape.
The first 1600 was terrible. With each lap I was slowing down and by the end I came in at 6:04, feeling like I was totally spent. I know that just a couple weeks ago I did the same workout and was able to do all my intervals under 6:01 with the first one being at 6:01. Why is it that the first one is always the hardest and the slowest? I reminded myself that usually this is the case, the second is usually a little smoother and easier. So the second went by at 5:58 and that was with the headphones on. Then I did the third in 5:56 knowing full well that I would not do a fourth. On occassion I have done 4 and am certain that I need to be doing 5, but the mind was not ready to push that hard.
I ran home feeling like I had accomplished something but a little worried that two weeks ago I finished with a 5:51. There go those seconds. Oh well, I am betting a few seconds aren't going to make much difference in my next 50 mile race!
Usually I don't like to speak using double negatives. Note that the title, taken from Rodney Dangerfield, does not make any sense unless he is trying to say he actually gets respect! But in this case it is truly appropriate for my story.
So yesterday I was biking home from work like usual, riding the same route I ride on average 3 or 4 times a week, when a car pulls up in the right turn lane on my right side, at a stoplight. After a few seconds I realize that the older woman in the car is trying to get my attention. She rolled down her window, then gave a thumbs up and stated matter-of-factly 'I really admire what you do.' I was blown away and a little confused at first, I guess because I didn't realize what she meant by what I do (I do alot of things). I have to assume that she meant she admired my bike commuting. I gave a thumbs up back and took off as the light turned green. As I rode away my irrepressible ego started inflating to ginormous dimensions which definately helped me get up the next 1/2 mile long hill! Then nearing the top of the long steady grind, I was just biking along in my little bike lane when I noticed a piece of garbage wing by right in front of me. It was no coincidence that I was riding by three teenagers with asses hanging out of their pants and hair covering their ears when the flying projectile just missed me and my bike. In this case I instinctively knew that one of those little $*!ts had purposefully tried to hit me with a plastic piece of garbage. In fact, as I passed them at about 15 mph I recognized a little smirk starting to grow on one of their faces. Without even a second thought or a look back I dropped my right arm and gave them an upside down one-fingered salute. By now my ego had deflated but I rode home confident that I had had the last word, so to speak, and happy that I hadn't been hit by the missile.
I find the most interesting aspect of this story to be the fact that I was absolutely confused and didn't know what to say when I got some respect. But when I was disrespected I didn't even have to think in order to respond, in kind. Maybe I have been riding on the roads too much, or living in the city for too long!!
Today I woke up feeling every single day of my 34 years and then some. It is unusual for me to still feel tired when I wake up, even if I get up really early. So I'm starting to think I may have done a little too much running last weekend! But it was well worth it because I had fun!!
I started out by running about 16 or 17 miles on the roads, circling Mercer Island on Saturday morning. Then I quickly downed some food and went on a short 5 mile hike with a Mountaineers group. On Sunday I met some Seattle Running Club folks at Tiger Mtn and ran one Fat Ass loop. When we were done with that I re-loaded my water bottle and went out for some more by myself. I think I ended up with somewhere over 29 trail miles on Sunday.
I admit, I was not so sure that heading back up into the hills after the first loop was such a great idea. But then I saw a bear as I ran up the gravel road. This was the first bear I have ever seen on Tiger Mtn. and it made my day. I kinda felt sorry for the bear though because he/she was just trying to cross the gravel access road. The problem was that the regular weekend hordes of Tiger Mtn. hikers (and me, of course) were tramping up the road due to the current parking lot construction. The bear saw me and the large groups right behind me and headed back into the bushes, never making it across the road. Now Yogi was stuck between the busy I-90 freeway and the busy hiking road. I wonder how he/she came from the direction of the freeway in the first place. Maybe there is a wildlife underpass?
I'm sure the bear found a way to get where he/she wanted to go eventually, but it got me wondering . . . why do so many people go to the High Point exit for Tiger Mtn. every weekend? And why do they all just tramp up and down the most uninspiring and boring trail on the entire mountain (the trail to W. Tiger 3) when there is so much more beauty and nature in this 13,000 acre park? I know that part of the answer is that the High Point exit is the most convenient and easy access to the mountain and that W. Tiger 3 promises a peak experience and decent uphill training. It just seems so unfortunate that virtually all park visitors are so concentrated due in large part to the configuration of the trails and trailheads. What would happen if there were trailhead access points (with parking) in other places like downtown Issaquah, Issaquah-Hobart Rd, and further east on I-90? I know that there already are a couple of other access points but the parking sucks at these places and there are no facilities.
I don't have any real answers to the crowded conditions . . . but it might help if the following occurred:
1. People started hiking/running further into the park and gave up on going straight up W. Tiger 3. Go for an adventure! It looks like they are currently re-grading W. Tiger 3 into a highway. Sounds like it will soon be even less appealing than it is now!
2. People drove a little further to USFS trailheads. It wouldn't hurt if the USFS gave up on the mismanaged and unconstitional fee program so people can afford to take a walk in THEIR national forests.
Ok, I am finally going to try and finish my travelogue for the 2007 spring trip.
On April 26 I started down the Kane Gulch trail with a plan to thru-hike Kane Gulch and Grand Gulch from the Kane Gulch Ranger Station to Bullett Canyon then hike up and out Bullett Canyon. I figured I could probably hitch a ride back to the Kane Gulch Ranger station and if not I could run the road! Since I only had two days to do the trip I hiked quickly but took time to explore as many ruins as I could. And boy did I see alot of ruins! In fact, there were so many ruins in the first 15 or 16 mile day of hiking that I'm sure I missed a few of them.
The first ruin I saw and one of the most prominent was Junction Ruin which was where Kane Gulch met Grand Gulch. The Junction Ruin is a true cliff dwelling which means you better be spiderman if you want to take a close look. I wasn't about to risk life and limb to climb up to this ruin, but I had a great time imagining what life might have been like for those who perched high on the canyon wall. It was probably a good idea to have a full cup of coffee before taking a stroll to the canyon floor every morning!
Further down canyon many of the ruins were much more accessible. At the prominent ruins the BLM had left information about each of the ruins in ammo boxes. Signs of ancient life were everywhere, from scattered potsherds to pictographs and smoke stained rocks.
It was easy to see why so many people have lived in Grand Gulch for so long. The bottom of the canyon was full of life. In some places the trail was in danger of being overtaken by waist high grass. And in several sections of canyon a constant caterpillar rain pelted the trail hiker. Unfortunately for the shimmering cottonwoods, the caterpillars had invaded and were just crawling out of their nests when I walked through. The caterpillars were a nuisance and made it a little difficult to find non-creepy crawling campsites but at the same time it was amazing to see such an awakening. The plentiful caterpillars had drawn the attention of birds and bats of all sizes and shapes. When I wasn't scraping caterpillars off my head and pack I was enjoying listening to all sorts of bird songs.
When I arrived at the junction of Bullett Canyon I found where all the people were hiding. It seems that this area is a popular camping area, especially for obnoxious boy scout troups and travelling college classrooms. Even without all the people, the best campsites where limited, unless one was fond of sleeping with caterpillars. So I quickly beat it down Grand Gulch and found some camping seclusion, both from the people and the multi-legged crawlers.
My final night sleeping out in the canyons had to be one of the best of my life as the sky was completely clear, stars spinning above, bats swooping low and toads were making love. I had a little piece of red rock on which to view it all. I slept like a baby.
On Friday the 27th I wandered up Bullett Canyon stopping to visit the ruins and soaking in the best weather of the entire trip. I spent alot of time at Perfect Kiva ruin. As its name suggests this ruin was in very good shape and had an intact kiva which you could descend into on a ladder, installed by the BLM (see top photo). It was a little spooky inside of the kiva but it was easy to see how the ancient indians may have enjoyed relaxing in this cool area during the midday heat, kind of like an air-conditioned dive bar. Maybe they drank a few cervezas and played some cards!?! The interior walls were covered with a glassy substance which the ruin's literature explained was petrified rat urine! Even more appropriate for a dive bar!
I finally left the ruins and canyons behind and took to hiking the road back to the trailhead. After about a 1/2 hour of hiking the road and only seeing 2 cars, I was finally picked up by some tin-can tourists on a road tour. Two of them looked like they may have been around when the ruins were occupied and their driver explained that they did not speak English. Speaking in broken English their driver explained that he was driving the old folks around, seeing the sights from behind the glass of their air-conditioned SUV. The driver explained it is the only way that they can see this country since they are so old and frail. I felt sorry for them, but thankfully accepted their hospitality and got a ride back to my starting point. Here is my revised Bob Dylan lyrics: 'Let me die in my footsteps, before being carted around in a cool leather-lined box on wheels'.
The final part of my trip was basically just alot of work driving back to WA state. I understand that scenic driving is the number one outdoor pastime for Americans and many people could write an entire travelogue about my 1400 mile drive home, But in my opinion it truly pales in comparison to taking off on your own two feet. So I won't even attempt to write about the drive, except to say that I stopped in to seem B & B in Walla Walla and had a great time playing horseshoes!
I arrived in Moab around 8 pm and spent about 2.5 hours looking for a campsite. Note to self: Don't visit Moab anywhere near a weekend! It seems like all the visitors to SE Utah concentrate at Moab on the weekend. You'd think they would hang out elsewhere since there really isn't a plethora of great non-motorized recreation around Moab. I guess that is the rub. Many people seem to be looking for the motorized type of recreation, either 4-wheeling or scenic driving through Arches. In fact, in the two days I spent near Moab it became increasingly evident that Moab is little more than a rest-stop for petroleum based tourism!!
Enough ranting. I ended up camping way out in Potash on the Colorado River and was abruptly woken early in the morning by a group of obnoxious adolescent rafters. On the plus side I finally got to sleep outside due to clear warm skies.
Since I still had a full day before my friend John would arrive for a backpacking trip, I drove into town and rented a mountain bike for a day. I took the souped up Ellsworth Moment out to the Poison Springs and Portal trail which starts near the Dinosaur tracks on Potash Rd. I was pleasantly surprised at how much fun I had trying to wear myself out and get my money's worth biking all over the slickrock. Although I had never ridden a full-suspension bike and had never ridden sand/slickrock after about a 1/2 hour I got the hang of it and I was soon passing ATV'ers on the uphills. Bombing down slickrock and catching little jumps was awesome and reminded me alot of skiing. In fact I liked it so much I did a few laps of the same runs!
After a full day of biking I got cleaned up, bought some supplies and went to the Moab Brewery to slurp brews and wait for John to arrive. I was really excited to get to hang with John since he lives in Denver and we only get to meet up about once every year or two. Even though he has alot of responsibilities with his family, job and school he took some time off and even rented a car in order to drive out to Utah for our trip. Thanks alot John! You are a totally rad friend!
So on April 21 we drove down to the Needles District of Canyonlands National Park and were lucky enough to pickup a day-of backcountry permit for a 4 day backpacking trip. Getting started wasn't too easy since I was only prepared to carry a lightweight pack and yet we knew that we were due for some stormy weather. It took awhile but we finally got on the trail with John carrying the heaviest load (he needed the exercise anyway). Fortunately for us middle-aged casual hikers the trails in the Needles are relatively short and have very few climbs and descents. So for most of the trip we were able to take our time and enjoy the scenery while hiking from camp to camp. Although the distances between camps were short and the canyons were relatively small and homey I was extremely impressed with how undisturbed and wild the canyons seemed. After the first day we rarely saw anyone but saw a plethora of wildlife and really felt like we had the place to ourselves.
The trails were so short we even had time for a day-hike on our first day. After arriving at our designated campsite we continued up Elephant Canyon and found Druid Arch bathed in sunlight while the canyon was in the shadows. This spectacular arch was a little hard to photograph because of the position of the sun so the photos are only the best of the bunch.
On the second day we decided we needed a little adventure so we day-hiked down to Spanish Bottom on the Colorado River (technically we were across the river from Spanish Bottom on the Lower Red Lake trail). Although this hike may have been on the order of 19 miles round trip and included a bit of steep hiking it was well worth the extra effort. It was cool to have the trail all to ourselves especially considering that we were visiting the mighty Colorado just before the entrance to Cataract Canyon, one of the most wild sections of the river! At Spanish Bottom we saw a large group of boaters no the opposite side of the river. After a short lunch we headed back up the trail. Before reaching camp our good luck ran out and John got sick which is how he would remain for the rest of the trip. In addition the weather took a turn for the worse with some wind and rain showers.
The next morning we awoke to heavy rain showers. Since neither of us had a functioning watch, who knows when we finally got up, but it definately wasn't until after the rain had stopped (briefly) and it was likely around 10 AM. John was even sicker than the day before, but like usual showed very little sign that he was virtually on his deathbed, and certainly did not complain! What a trooper!
Anyway I was fortunate enough to go outside the tent just in time to hear a somewhat disturbing sound of rushing water coming from up-canyon. I ran down to the bottom of the canyon just in time to see the leading edge of flowing water advancing down the dry wash. Although this "flash-flood" moved no faster than a walking 
person and was no deeper than knee deep, it was one of the most amazing things I have ever seen. It was so cool I had to take a bunch of photos to show the water's progression down the dry streambed.
In the afternoon we ambled along under drizzling 
skies to our next and final camp in Lost Canyon. Here we spent a relatively uneventful night before heading back to civ on April 24. After getting back to Moab John jetted back to CO and I cleaned up, fueled up and headed back south toward Grand Gulch . . . To be continued.
This the second part of my 2007 vacation travelogue. On Wednesday April 18th I chose to relax a little bit, primarily because I was worn out from the long "pasture" track hike. So I slept in a little and then went exploring upriver from my car, on a little geocaching expedition. Prior to the trip I found a geocache item near North Bend, WA called "Big Cat & Little Cat say Hi". These two are just a couple of toy cats chained together with a couple other cacheing items. Since I new I was going to go on a trip to a faraway place and the two cats appeared to like to travel I thought I would take them along and see if I could find a cache to leave them at.
I have never actually geocached before and my GPS unit is about as simple as they come. Most of the time I only use the GPS to alleviate my worries when I go off trail for a long ways. I like to set waypoints as I go, leaving cookie crumbs, as some might say so that I may be able to find my way home if I forget landmarks. Or sometimes I use it just to see how far I have gone.
Anyway I decided to try and find my first geocache using the GPS. It ended up not being much of an adventure as the cache was probably only a mile upstream in the middle of a broad valley. I was a little surprised at what I found on top of the rock covering the geocache! Lets just say that some of these geocachers must not really need their GPS units, and surely don't need them to get home, because one was left right at the cache location! I am not totally sold on geocaching as a worthwhile or exciting activity, but I guess if it takes a little treasure hunt to get a few buts off the couch then maybe it is helpful for some people. Based upon my limited experience, however, it sure doesn't seem like the caches are all that remote. In fact, you could probably ride an ATV right to this particular cache and I am certain that quite a few people already have! Why not hide caches on vertical walls of sandstone, under the water or at the top of a tree. Now that would make the trip a little more exciting.
After finishing the cacheing I wandered over to a old mining/ranching cabin (shown above) and pondered why the previous inhabitants left. This looks like a great place for a cabin to me. I think I might fix the place up a little, but otherwise this looks like a stunning place to do a little living!
Speaking of caches. Since I cancelled my plans to do the Muddy loop I had to drive over to another area where I had cached some water a couple days before. By the time I picked up my water and extra food near Cistern Canyon there were some serious storm clouds on the horizon and the wind was already kicking up a small dust storm. Once again I felt forced by the weather to change my plans. So instead of staying in the southern part of the swell I hightailed it to the east. I quickly drove to the eastern part of the San Rafael Swell near Goblin Valley State Park, and finally found some people!
Unfortunately, most of the campers I found at Little Wildhorse Canyon appeared to be of the ATV ridin, RV sleeping variety. I am sure they were good people just a little to hopped up on noise and fumes for me! I took a quick hike in a dust storm down Little Wildhorse Canyon before calling it a day and escaping to camp at the head of Chute Canyon. Here I had the place and all the wind and dust to myself!
The morning of April 19 dawned clear, cold and thank-goodness not windy! So I took off down Chute Canyon with a plan to hike Chute, find my way over to Crack Canyon, and hike back up Crack to the eastern side of the swell where I could hike the road back to my car. I enjoyed wandering down Chute canyon in the shade of the canyon walls, even traversing through a couple of nice narrow places. But I guess somebody else wasn't so excited about my visit! While walking the canyon I heard a bit of noise somewhere above me but couldn't pinpoint where it came from. I walked another 20 feet stopped and turned just in time to see a rock land just where I had been standing. After about a minute of looking I finally made out 5 bighorn sheep scrambing on the rocks above me (shown above). If not for the rock missile I am sure I would never have noticed these majestic animals. Their coloring allowed them to blend in perfectly with the rocks and their generally nimble and quiet climbing made them hard to find even when listening for their footsteps. Now that is what I call shock and awe!
Before long I came to a side canyon where I thought I could traverse to Crack Canyon. So off I went exploring unknown territory. Surprisingly I ran into my first fellow hiker of the entire trip in this un-named canyon. Interestingly enough he was also the organizer of a volunteer effort to install signage in the canyons. It seems that alot of people seem to get lost making the traverse from Chute to Crack and vice-versa so he was planning on putting in some signs for the BLM. He explained where I need to go to make it to Crack and we parted going opposite directions. Suffice it to say that I was not prepared to do the route finding without a map. I never found the correct route to get to Crack so I climbed up high on top of the rocky plateau and enjoyed the view. I couldn't see back to the western side of the Swell but I could make out the Goblin Valley area and a lot of open land between me and the Maze in Canyonlands N.P. It was awesome.
I gave up on the planned loop and just found my way back up Chute Canyon to the car. A full days effort for a full days adventure. I decided I had seen enough of the San Rafael Swell and decided to drive to Moab that night. To be continued . . .
I was tempted to title this travelogue Four Corners of Fun since it is all about my recent trip to the Four Corners region, however, then I realized I only saw the stuff near one corner! I guess that just means I need to go back at least 3 more times! For those who don't know the Four Corners term is commonly used to describe the area where the states of UT, CO, AZ, and NM meet.
For the last two weeks (and an extra weekend) I travelled all over the southeastern corner of the great colorful state of Utah trying to satisfy my need for sun, solitude and fun. I think I found a fair amount of the latter two, but I could have used a little more sun. Since this is going to be a long story I have decided I will break it up into parts. Here is part 1:
I started out by driving to the San Rafael Swell via a stopover in Walla Walla, WA. Both at the beginning and end of my trip I got to stop in and see a couple of my best friends Beezer and 'Brielle. They have just set down roots in WW and are in full nesting mode, preparing for their impending stork visit. 
I really enjoyed relaxing with them and taking a break from the endless driving. I only half-heartedly wish that I could have relaxed in their laid back abode for the entire two weeks, but then again I would have eventually gotten bored of drinking beer and playing horseshoes! NOT
My plans for the first part of my vacation were to do a 4 to 5 day backpacking loop down Muddy Creek and through Mud, Cistern and Chimney Canyons. These canyons are located near the southern edge of the San Rafael Swell on BLM land. Based upon my guidebook the first day of the loop promised to be fairly exciting as Muddy Creek flows through a section called the Chute which is a length of 20 foot wide narrows where the walls soar 500 feet above and the creek oftentimes runs from wall to wall.
So on the morning of Monday April 16th I started down Muddy Creek from my car camp. Only a 1/2 mile from the car I encountered the first river crossing and soon realized that my feet were going to be really cold and wet for the entire day. The river was generally less than knee deep but the water was pretty dang cold. I am guessing some of the water may have even been snowmelt since I saw snow in the hills on the way to the creek the day before.
As the day warmed and I started enjoying the scenery of the deepening canyon I noticed that some very large and dark clouds were forming above the canyon rim. I really wanted to get to my first camp on the other side of the Chute but started to worry a little about the possibility of a flash flood. A flash flood while I was in the narrows could be a disaster. Especially considering the fact that the guidebook mentions a log-jam 25 feet above the canyon floor in the deepest section of the narrows and I don't swim!
So I picked up the pace and soon entered the narrows where I was wading in water more than walking on dry land. It was exhilarating moving quickly down canyon, rounding countless bends as the walls rose above, nearly blocking out the ever darkening sky. Although the creek was still relatively small it had an ominous roar due to the echoing walls. After awhile, I came to a place where the canyon temporarily opened allowing me breathe a little easier knowing that I could climb above a flood here. After taking a short break and wondering whether or not there was an escape route from this particular area I plunged forward as the canyon became ever more narrow. About a 1/2 hour past the opening I came to a place where the wading went above my waist and my pack starting getting wet. I searched in vain for a sandbar which would allow me to go forward without swimming. Because the possibility of a storm threatened, I did not have the time to waterproof my backpack for a swim, and I wasn't willing to try to swim the deep section by myself, I quickly decided to turn around. Maybe I could find another route or come up with a new plan back in the open section of canyon.
About 20 minutes later I was in the open section of canyon between the two narrows when the sky broke open and I was pelted with pea sized hail for about 30 minutes. Even more dramatic than the hail were the near constant thunder and frequent lightning flashes. I made a couple halfhearted attempts to setup my tarptent but soon realized I couldn't get the thing setup in the gusting wind and loose sand soils. After the hail stopped I clung to the hope that I could find a canyon escape route where I would be able to bypass the narrows. So I started climbing up one side of the canyon towards a high route which the guidebook refers to as the pasture track. A 1/2 hour of searching later I had only found insurmountable obstacles of vertical rock and soil so I backtracked to the bottom of the canyon where I was promptly greeted with constant rain. I found a small overhang of rotten rock where I was able to hide from the deluge and watch small lakes and streams form on every piece of dry ground outside my ad-hoc shelter. After about an hour and a half I realized should take advantage of my relatively sheltered position and brew up some dinner. So I quickly cooked a meal which helped warm me up.
Around 6:30 PM the rain finally stopped and I looked out to see that the river was not too much higher than before the rain. Since the sky was still gray and likely to rain all night I decided to use my food energy to get me back to the trailhead before I really got soaked. So hightailed it back to the car with my tail between my legs, arriving just before dark and another bit of rain.
Due to my weather misfortunes and bruised confidence I settled for a day hike on Tuesday. For this trip I was to follow an old mining track high above Muddy canyon, bypassing the narrows, and then dropping down into Chimney Canyon. For the first section of the hike I had to traverse back down Muddy canyon for awhile. Consequently, I nearly ran into a sleeping herd of wild horses! I had been wondering about the large piles of horse apples in the canyon and these 6 horses provided a great answer. 
These horses appeared to own this canyon and seemed to looked at me as an interloper. They watched me cautiously but with the confidence of wild animals in a pack. It was obvious who the alpha male was as he stood between me and the others, ready to teach me a lesson if needed. It was impressive to see such beautiful and wild large animals in such an amazing canyon.
The day's hike got even better when I climbed up onto the high "pasture" route and could see the vast canyons below. Because the route followed a high bench of the Muddy canyon drainage it's length must have been double that of travelling at the base of the canyon. Up here I had to skirt around every small side canyon which drained into the Muddy, making for a very long hike.
But it was absolutely awe inspiring looking out over the vast sculpted landscape below me with an unbroken blue bowl above. Later in the day, while walking along daydreaming I must have caught some movement out of the corner of my eye because somehow I picked out a couple of silhouetted heads and antlers/horns from all the scrubby vegetation. I set out to get a little closer and before long I was watching 6 pronghorn antelope or bighorn sheep who were watching me! I am still not certain if they were antelope or sheep without a full curl? You can see from my photo that they only let me get so close. They obviously weren't too interested in me because after a little while they hopped down some steep slopes to disappear in the canyons below.
I finally made it to Chimney Canyon and hurried down as far as I could afford to go before turning around for the day. Before long I came to a couple of waterfalls and pools which would have been a serious obstacle if I was coming from down canyon (my original plan). Climbing down one of these falls without a rope and belay was out of the question, at least for me, since It was a 20 foot class 4 to 5 climb. So I revelled in my solitude and took a quick skinny-dip in one of the cool pools. I'm no nudist but I enjoyed sitting naked in the sun while every bit of water slowly evaporated from my skin.
On the way back I had a blast doing a little running in order to cover the distance a little faster. It was truly exhilarating running all alone above the canyons, racing to get back before dark!
