It has been quite a journey since Tuesday, so I will start from there.
Tuesday
Tip: Listen to the weather forecast
On Tuesday morning, Taryn and I woke up early, excited to explore Boulder. The night before we visited the Dark Horse, a bar sketchier than the Chanty, and for those of you unfamiliar with the Chanty, it is pretty sketchy. Anyway, Tuesday morning we woke up early, packed our hiking gear, and walked to the base of the Rockies. I am amazed by the number of people in Boulder that use a bicycle or their own two feet. Our journey to the hike was only an extra 2 miles, and the sights we found along the way would have surely been missed had we traveled by car.
As recommended by Schlenks, we hiked the royal arch trail. The trip was only about 3 miles, but I would say we had to stop at least 10 times. The trail lead us up a mountain that is at a higher elevation than any mountain in the east, and we clearly had not acclimated to the change in O2 levels! The hike was beautiful, and of course, ugly monkey traveled the entire way with us. Although we did not check the weather, we lucked out. We had cloud cover for the majority of the ascent. When we reached the summit, there was excellent bouldering and wonderful views.
Tuesday evening we took Schlenks up on her second recommendation, to visit the Mountain Sun Pub and Brewery. Despite the overwhelming crowd and tight accommodations, I gorged on the most amazing burrito (try not to drool, Eric) and a stout as thick and dreamy as Guinness. We walked Pearl street a few times before catching the bus home to sleep.
Wednesday
Tip: Never ignore the fortune in misfortune
Another early morning and we were off towards the Rockies. Although there was groaning and moaning about our sore muscles, the whining was quickly overtaken by the ooh's and aah's from the ever upward crawl of the car. And by crawl, I am being quite literal. Roxanne was struggling to maintain 45 in a 65. After a few SUVs the same size as mine flew by, Taryn and I agreed that stopping and checking the oil and engine just might be a safe bet. We pulled off at the next exit, Silver Plume. Slowing down, we saw that all that Silver Plume consisted of was a general store and a parking lot. I needed to let the engine cool and the oil settle, so we figured we would go inside and ask about altitude and cars. We ventured in and met the woman
working there. To my relief, she told us that cars sometimes have trouble with the altitude and that whatever was happening was probably not a problem. And fortunately, the Silver Plume General Store had postcards. Taryn and I bought a few, and the woman told us the post office was just around the corner. Apparently, there was more to this town than we realized. After checking the oil (which was fine) we took a left down a short road to downtown Silver Plume. It consisted of a street, about 1/2 mile long. And there we discovered our first mining town. Have you ever been to Disney World? Have you ever ridden on the plume ride Splash Mountain? That is where we were. It was an old mining town with a 4 cell jail, the Plume Saloon, and a post office. We were so excited by the friendliness and authentic feel of the town.
We left Silver Plume to rise and plunge through the rest of the Rockies. The scenery was always changing. Every turn brought a new horizon, and every 50 miles brought new scenery. As we passed from Colorado to Utah, the rocks became more red, and the mountains became more cliff-like. We were awestruck the entire drive to our campsite in the Dixie National Forest. After a fabulous meal of fire roasted hot-dogs and corn, we set our alarm for 5:15 the next morning and went to sleep with the antiicpation of Zion National Park in the morning.
Thursday
Tip: Trust Instinct Before Technology
I'm laying in my sleeping bag, swaddled in sweatshirts and blankets, and I hear a distant noise. A strange beeping. It is different than the whistle of the wind that has been blowing through the trees, different than the sounds of the bugs chirping in the grass. I open my eyes and roll over. I remember that we set an alarm last night before we said goodnight. "Is that us?" I boarderline incoherently ask. Obviously it is us. What other cell phone alarm would be going off at this time in the morning in the middle of a national forest? "Yeah" is Taryn's response, "But it is so dark out." It is strange that the stars are still out. I guess we can sleep for another half an hour until 5:45. 5:45 and it is still dark out. We can't get ready for hiking Angel's Landing in the dark, can we Taryn? "Nope," is her reply, "let's sleep for another half hour." 6:15 and still no light. Maybe we are so far west and close to the time zone that the sun comes up really late. 7:00. We really need to get out of the tent and get ready for the best hiking of our lives. We unzip the tent and crawl out. Our muscles still hurt from Boulder, but we change our clothes, fill up the camelback, and chomp on dry granola. Still fuzzy in the brain, we start the car and pull out of the campsite and out of the Te-aH campground. I turn to Taryn, and the puzzled look on her face matches the look on mine. 6:15? Why does the clock say 6:15? Didn't we get out of bed at 7? Strange.
We drove east on Rt 14 toward Rt 89 that will take us to Zion. A beautiful sunrise lead us on our way. We were perplexed about the time until we passed through a town with the time displayed for the passing traffic. Yup, it is 6:45. Taryn's phone mysteriously decided to change back to central time. Doesn't it know we were clearly in the mountains? And although one may think that getting up earlier than necessary would be a nuisance, one would be sorely mistaken. Not only did we get a head start on one of our most exciting days, but we also got to the park before it even opened. We passed through the gates without paying a cent of the $25 entrance fee. We crept into the canyon with the sunlight, truly speechless by the spectacle that lay before us. Hairpin turns in switchback roads lead us through red rock valleys speckled with cacti and even offered a glimpse of a bighorn sheep.
Knowing that our first hike of the day would be Angel's Landing, we caught the shuttle bus to the Grotto, where we could find the base of the trail. We made our way through the desert sand, up to the first switchbacks, deep into the narrow canyon, and up Walter's Wiggles. We stopped to take "pictures" (catch our breath) plenty of times walking up. We were amazed by the views and the consequence of falling. The Angel's Landing portion of the hike was the rocky climb with 1.500 foot drops on either side, but it only lasted .5 miles. We had done more difficult bouldering in Co, but the fact that one slip meant you had about 30 seconds to say goodbye made the climb that much more interesting. There are chains to hold during the most difficult durations, but we find that using them only lifted your center of gravity, and it was actually much safer to find a good hold on a solid rock. The view from the top was as breathtaking as the look down, and we sat and ate and soaked it all up. Ugly monkey is featured in a fabulous picture from the top as well.
After Angel's Landing we were feeling tired but nowhere near finished. We took a short walk to Emerald Pools (not reccomended for a serious hiker...we called it the Zoo because it felt as if that is where we were) and made a decision to go to the furthest bus stop and walk at every stop. The furthest stop was the Narrows, where the canyon gets narrow (duh) and you hike through the river. Unfortunately, thunder was threatening from afar, and we heeded the many warnings about flash flooding and decided we had chanced death enough that day. We walked 1 mile to the base of the trail, played in the silty water and walked back to the bus. We traveld from there to the next stop, and continued by foot to the next. At this stop we saw a few signs for hikes. The first hike looked like another Zoo because it was a simple walk to an interesting view of Weeping Rock (where water is seeping out of the sandstone from rain that fell hundreds of years ago). The hike Hidden Canyon caught our eye, not only because of the name but also the impressive climb. 850 vertical feet over 1 mile. Let's do it. We encountered only about 10 other people on this hike (as opposed to the 100 on Angel's) and the cliff faces and views were just as spectacular. In heavy rain, the canyon would be a small stream, but in the heat of the summer desert, it was all sand, rocks, and dead trees. Very notable bouldering indeed. Although the maintained trail lasted for only a mile, we hiked another mile into the canyon. The hike was exhilarating and liberating, passing no one for more than an hour.
We stayed around the canyon until after dark when we hoped to catch a glimpse of the moon on the Three Patriarchs rock formation, but unfortunately (but also fortunately) the rain that threatened us all day finally broke. We drove back wary of the many deer and pulled our sweaty bodies out of our clothes into our sweats and slumbered in the quiet and serenity of the tent in Dixie.
Friday
Tip: Go wherever the tumbleweed takes you
Friday morning we woke up with the sun (sooo...between 6 and 7) feeling well rested and very hungry (pretzels and sunbutter are not nearly enough after hiking 13 miles and 2,000 vertical feet). We had a can of beans and a bag of cous-cous that we were drooling just thinking about. All we had to do was light our fire and start the camping stove. Sounds oh-so-simple, right? WRONG. Apparently, the same campfire that we had made with only one match two nights before was a 15 match and lighter disaster. We couldn't even get paper to ignite. Matches sizzled in the still air, paper smoked and fizzled. Propane gasoline shooting out of its small canister simply blew out a match. Gasoline? Blowing out a match? Ridiculous. Stomachs and emotions growling, we threw down our sticks and headed into town in hopes of finding a diner. Duck Creek Village was only about 5 miles away, and we pulled in to find Aunt Sue's Chalet. Perfect. Two eggs, over medium, please. A glass of orange juice to start.
In accommodating fashion of small town people, when we asked about good hiking trails in the area, not only did the person we ask have something to say, but so did everyone working an d eating at the restaurant (well wait, that was only one other table, but anyway...). We learned of a cave you could hike in just down the road. All it takes for Taryn and me to hop on board is a good suggestion. Done. We're going. We ate our breakfast, paid our bill and headed back to pack up the tent. Heeding Eric's travel tip (Watch out for the red ants!) we used sticks to flick the intruders off of the tent, packed up and headed for Mammoth Caves.
The caves were in the middle of an old lava field (really not as exciting as you would think) and with the accumulation of excitement and suspense (we got lost a few times getting there) were couldn't help but be a little disappointed at arrival. There were kids crawling all over and overly large women yelling at their sheepish husbands. Yikes. Here we are with the camel back, a shockproof camera and hiking boots. Is this for real? We walked around the open desert area surrounding the cave entrance until we decided it had quieted down enough to begin. the first cave we tried was a few feet off the floor requiring some minor bouldering skills we had picked up along the way. A very short distance in we went from crouching, to ET walking, to hands and knees, to army crawl. Without a headlamp and flashlight it would be almost pitch black. Had we been there 15 years ago, we would have fit a little further down into an open room in the cave, but we were just too big and too nervous to risk getting stuck in a cave. We went back and attempted the next. Pure mud. Squelchy, sucking-on-your-boots mud. It didn't take much time before a good slip and we foot-farted our way back to the entrance. And the last cave opening. Ding! A winner! We hiked to the end, scrambling over rocks and wondering just how much guano was under our hands.
Crawling out, we stomped the mud off our boots, wiped ourselves down with a few cushy-tushy baby wipes and hopped in the car shouting "on to LA!" which became a new word: Ontoelay! Arriba Arriba! Ontoelay!
Our drive took us past a very scenic view of Zion from above, with ugly monkey
obviously starring in the picture. We continued through the desert past Arizona and into Nevada. Vegas was a strange mirage in the distance for what seemed like forever, and although we toyed with the idea of getting off the highway, finding a place to bet a dollar, then hopping back on, the traffic said there was no way that was possible. So we stopped at a gas station to fill up the gas tank and empty our own tanks and we saw 3 slot machines lined up begging us to pull their handles. We grabbed a dollar and played a few games, and now we can say that we gambled in Vegas.
We toiled ever onward toward California. We sat, camera ready, anxious to cross our final state boarder. It seemed like nothing but desert. But just in the distance was another very small city. Looking around we noticed an amusement park, Whisky Pete's, flashing lights and excitement all around. We passed through in a matter of seconds, and the next sign we came across said "Buckle Up California." Buckle Up WHO!? Continuing on, we fully expected a sign with bright letters and possibly even some great pictures of the sun, or a bear, or the state outline. A green metal sign with reflective letters would be more satisfying than nothing. We agreed that there was no possible way that California had no sign, but then again we were creeping away from the state line on the GPS. There was only one thing we could possibly do. The next exit had nothing more than a small factory and a few trucks, but it was good enough. Miles and miles of chasing the sun and here we are in fast retreat. Heading north on 15, we quickly re-approached the funny little park and Whiskey Pete's. Yep, there was the sign, welcome to Nevada. Off and on again, resuming our pursuit of the sinking sun. Merge Right. Speed limit 70. Mojave National Preserve. Buckle Up California. Buckle Up California. There it was again. Dejected, we pressed onward as the sun sank behind the mountain dunes. Our spirits hardly lifted until we saw our first sign for L.A. 221 miles. Ontoelay!
We drove straight to the ocean. Parking the car, we grabbed the camera and ugly monkey (at this point lovingly referred to as ug mo). A quarter mile of beach stretched out at my footsteps, and I sprinted headlong towards the pacific. I could smell it, I could taste it and I could hardly stop shaking with excitement (possibly hunger, it was 10 and we had no food), but still, I was excited. I splashed and jumped and screamed. The Santa Monica pier was to my right, whirring lights galore. And to my front were waves and darkness. We never caught the sun but it had lead us through the most amazing journey of our lives. We made it across the country.
And now I sit in Bakersfield, excited about the next part of my journey. I will be heading to the Centre for Neuro Skills tomorrow morning, ready to help people with brain injury on with their own life journey. For some, just taking a shower, or making their oatmeal by themselves will be as big an accomplishment as my own. I have learned so much about myself and why I need adventure and excitement to keep me going. Thank you to everyone who inspired me to travel, and thank you for everyone's generosity that helped me accomplish my goal.
And a special note to Taryn...You were a fabulous driving partner! Here is to the power of suggestion and an open mind! I can't wait for more adventure to come.
