Showing posts with label San Rafael Swell. Show all posts
Showing posts with label San Rafael Swell. Show all posts

Monday, May 28, 2012

Weekly Kodachrome - Book Cliffs

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The light played off the clouds and distant cliffs as the highway stretched off into the vast expanse of the San Rafael Swell desert, like a road leading into tomorrow. I watched the puffs of gray and white drift lazily onward and finally pulled to the side of the road to gaze at these textures of light; These are the moments that truly pen a life.

Adventures & Misadventures of Daily Living
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Saturday, August 29, 2009

Repost - The San Rafael

Pin It Originally Posted on January 21, 2009

The desert holds a special place in my heart. I cannot explain fully when or why this love came about, but it might have something to do with my dear friend and coworker, Ron Firmage, who introduced me to Expedition Red Rock and the beauty which southern Utah truly holds.

For this, Ron, I cannot thank you enough.













Saturday, August 22, 2009

Repost - The Capitol Reef Adventure

Pin It I thought it only fitting that my first repost also be the very first posting I made. It’s amazing to me just how far my photography—as well as writing—has come over the past two years. It’s also kind of funny, I’d entertained the idea of starting a blog several times before, but it wasn’t until I’d had this particular little experience and had started to tell my friend, Annette, about it that she responded with, “I can’t wait to read about it.”

This was the final nudge which spurred me into the world of blogging. So with this post I offer a hearty ‘thanks’ to Annette for giving me the encouragement to set me off on the road of writing, and recording my Adventures and Misadventures of Daily Living.

Orignally posted on Wednesday, August 8, 2007


This has been quite the trip! As I think of my last trip to southern Utah I am reminded of the experience I had over Saturday and Sunday.


I was driving in Capitol Reef on Saturday and taking in the vistas it affords when I came across (many times) the banks of water flow during heavy rains. I drove through these repeatedly and had little to no problems up to this point so I wasn't worried until I started to get closer to a muddy patch of roadway ahead of me and saw just how bad it really was. I put on the brakes, but alas, it was too late. I ended up with my front tires submerged in thick, gooey, mud up to the front bumper.


I tried just about everything could...digging around the tires, using rocks, bushes, and sticks for traction...but nothing was of any avail. I was 100% stuck on a section of road which was 25 miles from the last person I'd seen.


It was at this point that I made a decision...to hike to I-70 and find a ride back to the beginning of Capitol Reef and find someone with a 4-wheel drive who could pull my vehicle out. So, I wrote a note saying what direction I'd gone on foot, grabbed my backpack, and started walking towards what I hoped would be civilization. Only one problem...the road I was walking on was not listed on one of my maps so I had no idea of how far away the freeway really was...I figured that it was between 10 - 20 miles, and that I knew I could handle.


I said a quick prayer as I ventured among the fading light shrouding the ancient mesas and towering cliffs. Soon the light was all but gone and cricket sounds filled the air around me. The road was not overtly difficult, just long. A half moon appeared overhead and the milky-colored way shone above me while ominous storm clouds threatened rain out on the horizon with flashes of lightning.

On a distant hill I saw a light...I could tell that it looked an awful lot like headlights. I turned my headlamp to "flasher" and signaled with my flashlight as well. Still I walked on while the distant lights would vanish, and then reappear. I was starting to wonder if maybe it was a group of campers who thought I was someone playing some type of light game or something...the lights then vanished and I did not see them again.

It was dark, and after the few hours I'd been walking I will admit that I began to feel a bit leery of being there in that vast space. Behind me I could hear something from time to time...what it was I do not know, but I do know that it was there, creeping behind me in the darkness, keeping itself far beyond the strength of my flashlight. Bats zoomed around me, drawn by the insects attracted my my flashing headlamp, and I felt totally alone.

Moments later the lights reappeared...closer this time. I began to signal with my flashlight again but soon the lights vanished. When they appeared again, I could see the distinct red of taillights as the vehicle was going away. I felt horrible. To think that someone was there and then gone was almost too much to handle. I kept my headlamp flashing, shone my flashlight around behind me, and continued walking.

I did an awful lot of thinking during that time--praying too--on that desolate road where the only light came from the twinkling celestial objects above me, and loneliness crept in like a suffocating blanket over an unwary sleeper.

It was at this time that the lights appeared again! Closer this time and I could tell that a vehicle was traveling on the same road as I! After several more minutes a truck came into view driven by a girl and her boyfriend. I had never been so relived to see another person in my life, and as I explained my circumstances they did theirs as well. As it turns out, they had gotten lost after leaving the Interstate and had been wandering around on unknown roads in the desert trying to find their group of friends who were camping.

By now it was nearly 11:00 p.m. (I'd started hiking around 7:45). I asked when they'd gotten lost and they said it was at about 8:00...the time I'd said a prayer asking for help. They had been wandering for hours until they reached a hilltop, saw my signal lights, and had come to find whoever it was but had come across many wash-outs and dead-end roads so had to find the right road.

When I climbed into the back of the truck, I felt a wave of gratitude wash over me...a wave directed towards God Himself. As we drove down the road at 45 miles per hour and I felt the wind going over me I looked up that that star-drenched sky and I felt tears pricking at my eyes. I just couldn't help it...God had heard--and answered--my prayer. I hadn't really been alone at all...He was there and was aware of me and what I was going through. Here he was orchestrating the complex movements of the universe and he still found the time to send a little miracle to a lost, decrepit soul. I was important enough for him to help.

All I could whisper over the rushing wind was the words, "Thank you."

It still took us nearly 25 minutes to reach the Interstate and it was here that I was dropped off. I thanked them for the ride and they were off and away, back to Denver where they'd come from.

I walked up the entrance to the on ramp and started walking west, towards the exit for another highway that would lead me down to Fremont, a small town near the gateway into Capitol Reef. It was my hopes to find a person there who could be convinced to drive to my car with a 4 wheel drive and pull my car out. As I walked along the dark freeway at midnight I thought about the distance I'd covered before--and after--the ride I'd received. I figured that I'd walked about 12 miles and then was driven about 20 more. If those people hadn't come along, I'd have walked all night and far into the next day. I also thought about the road I had been on...there had been patches of mud, rocky areas, and a few small hills, however, that had been nothing compared to the road which had laid ahead. True, the mud was nonexistent, but there were many side roads, and steep hills with drops to the side. The road I had walked, in comparison, was easy to what had been ahead of me...the road I did not have to travel on my own. Thoughts of how many things God must spare us from, and yet we are unaware of them, came to me during this time.

There weren't many cars driving on the Interstate in my direction at midnight and the first car which I saw passed me in a flurry of taillights, not slowing down in the slightest. A few minutes later a second car passed, however this one stopped. The driver was a Hispanic man to whom I sadly cannot remember his name as I'd never heard it before...however, I will choose to call him Paul, after Saint Paul because of how much he talked about helping others and the life of people like Mother Theresa.

Paul had said that he was on a run from Mexico to Las Vegas and then to New York for business. He said that he would pick up hitchhikers if it looked like they really had a need...I fit the description. Though I had my Camelbak with water, Paul insisted that I take a cold water bottle. He pulled a bottle of water from a cooler he had and handed it to me.

As he drove, he told me about how he'd come to the United States and about his family and the jobs he'd worked. He also told me how unkindly he'd been treated by many people because he was a Mexican, however, this did not make him bitter, but instead more kind to others and he was always looking for ways which to help people.

We missed the exit to Fremont where I was going to hitchhike down to the town and ended up in Selina--REALLY too far west! Paul insisted on driving me down to the town himself--now this was FAR out of his way but he said that he didn't mind in the slightest and refused to let me walk alone down dark, deserted roads.

As it turns out, the town was nothing more than a few homes and he drove me to the start of the dirt road which would lead to Cathedral Valley and where my car was. Paul was leery about letting me off in such an empty, dark place but I told him about a campsite just about a mile up the road and how I'd be fine. Paul finally relented and handed me another bottle of water imploring that I be careful.

I couldn't believe just how kind Paul had been and all he'd done for me. How far out of his way he'd gone to help...I shouldered my backpack and began to walk up the road with wonderings of just what would I do now. I walked two miles with still no sign of Riley's Spring. I wasn't sure just how much farther it was as the map I had wasn't much help for that either. I gathered wood and built a fire. When I was ready to light it I reached into my pocket for my matches only to discover that they had fallen out of my pocket...I'd transferred the container from my pack to my pocket and at some time, I'd lost them. I began to hike back down the road and luckily, I found them about 1/8 of a mile down the road.

By 3:00 a.m. I had a fire going...this was good too because it was cold. As the flames got higher it cast shadows away and illuminated the groves of quaking aspens all around me. A wild half-moon rode the cloudy skies overhead and I thought back to the moment Paul had dropped me off.

When he had driven away I was wondering if I should just try to get some sleep there. I'd cleared a spot of ground and laid down. I took my two maps and used them as blankets to try to hold in some heat. I watched shooting stars--or meteors--and thought about my dad. I thought of his excursions to the desert when he was younger and how he and his uncle would sleep out on the ground. I'd been checking for cell phone service pretty regularly and suddenly I wanted to talk to my dad--I wanted to tell him about this adventure I was having and all I'd done up to this point. There was still no service. I turned off the phone and thought of something else my dad had said about how dumb it had been sleeping on the desert floor when there are scorpions. I got up and decided to hike up the road to the spot where I built my fire instead of taking the chance of getting stung.


Now, with a campfire going it was warmer and I watched the skies. I tried to sleep once but was a bit fearful of falling asleep. I did doze for about 20 minutes but woke because the fire had died down to embers and biting coldness was setting in. I checked the time--it was about 4:00 a.m. I added more wood to the fire and thought...it's amazing to me all of the thoughts you have when all alone in a place like that.

I took out my Mp3 player and listened to a few songs with one earbud in..I wanted to be able to hear what was going on around me too. The first song to come on was a rendition of Joni Mitchell's, The Circle Game performed by Steven Curtis Chapman. As I listened to it I thought of my 5th & 6th grade teacher, Otamay Hushing, singing that song with my classmates and I when I was a kid. I felt a little bit less alone and the darkness creeping along beyond the strength of the firelight was a little bit less foreboding and spooky.


It was about 6:00 a.m. when I got a really good scare. I'd been watching the skies and noticed that it was just barely starting to lighten when I heard the unmistakable sound of a bear off in the trees...not too close...but to far either. The fire was mostly embers so I quickly doused it and started up the road as quickly as I could without running...my police-style flashlight gripped tightly.

I walked about another mile before arriving at Riley's Spring. There was someone camped there, but it was still before 7 and I didn't want to wake anyone up. I decided to continue up the road passing campsites until I met up with someone with a 4 wheel drive who was awake.

It was 4 miles later that I met up with J.C. and his son, Jared. They were just up and awake and had a powerful truck. I told them of my situation and they were all too ready to help. J.C. also knew of a shorter road which took about 12 miles off of the trip to where my car was stuck. It only took a few minutes to get the tow rope hooked up and to dig the car out a little bit, but it came right out and I was again on my way. Like the others who'd helped me, J.C. refused any money and went on his way.


It is amazing to me that there are so many wonderful people out there who are willing to give aid to someone else who needs it. For this I find myself grateful.


The rest of my trip took me to fabulous places where I saw Calf Creek Falls--a place which I hadn't been for several years--and that night I was chasing a lightning storm down by way of Hanksville; of which, I got several great photos.


All in all this was a fantastic trip and one I will not forget again soon.



Monday, June 15, 2009

Swell Saturday

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Not wanting to go into a long, drawn-out retell of day 1 of my trip, I instead choose to focus on two images I took.


Antelope are plentiful on the Swell, but they never seem to be around when you’d like to take a photograph of one. Luckily, I came across this fellow—rather by accident—and was able to get a shot of him before he took off.



Horses and burros were brought in when the Swell was being mined for uranium in the early nineteen hundreds. With the coming of the automobile and mechanized farming, many were released or escaped into the wilds. The descendants of these animals still roam free today and inhabit the San Rafael, making their home in remote canyons and valleys.


I’d only seen wild burros one time before in all my varied trips with my own eyes; this time I was fortunate enough to come across a herd of about twelve of them—including a few foals.




For now, that is all.

Saturday, June 13, 2009

New looks and new adventures

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Stop, don’t go anywhere, you ARE at the right place…


It’s just a new image…


A new look…


A new adventure in daily living.


As you are reading over this blog entry, I am yet again off on a whirlwind adventure.


“Where are you going, Teachinfourth?” I can almost hear you ask.


Good question.


If you look at the new header you’ll have an idea of where it is that I am headed on this next grand adventure.


South.


Where exactly?


Where do I always go?


Yes, my solace in the wilderness.


My place of rejuvenation.


My place of refuge.


Like the look of my blog, I plan to take on new vistas, to see new things…oh, and attend training in Cedar City for two days.


The good must unfortunately come with the bad; however it will be worth it in the end…of this I am sure.


So, you’re probably wondering just what prompted a new look on the blogfront.


Experimentation.


I found myself wrestling with HTML code for hours on Friday trying to master the subtle and frustrating complexities which compose the cyberworld. At points I was ready to pull out my hair. I’d try one thing and then another—all to no avail.


Scratch that…I messed up my blog absolutely. Jacked the code, and panicked just a bit. Thank goodness for Google searches and tutorial helps.


So here you have a new look to teachinfourth.blogspot.com


I should probably ask what you think, but I already know that there are those out there who will like it, and those who will not. Ah, the dilemmas one will face when they try to please everyone...or nobody.


Will the blog change more as time goes on?


Will I find new places to take photos?


Undoubtedly.


Maybe not today, maybe not tomorrow, but change is inevitable.


Until I arrive in Hurricane….




Monday, April 27, 2009

Anselistic

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“So, Teachinfourth,” my friend recently asked me. “Did you take any good photos on your trip?”

I was pretty sure I had a few; however, I hadn’t taken the time to really look. Tonight I delved into the images I’d captured, trying to emulate an ‘Anselistic’ feel.

I usually don’t shoot black and white, but I do on occasion. I’m glad that I did on this trip. I will post a few other shots in a day or two once I’ve had a chance to go through them. There is a post I feel inclined to write with which to accompany them, and tonight I do not wish to take the time to do so. I instead will grace my underground theatre with my exclusive attention and will indulge myself in cinematic bliss.

Until then, Anon.

Teachinfourth.




Friday, April 17, 2009

The Desert

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The call of the desert is incessant.
It beckons to me.
And so I go forth; to venture into its lonely canyons and distant gorges, hewn from crags of ancient stone.
I am anxious to see what images can be captured on this visit; I can only hope to impress upon my return in a day or two.
I expect to arrive home triumphant.
If not, I trust you’ll be forgiving.

Wednesday, January 21, 2009

The San Rafael

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Sunday, January 18, 2009

And He's off...

Pin It I am posting this morning as I make ready to leave.

I was going to go yesterday for two days, but with events panning out as they did, I didn’t get to leave yesterday as I’d originally hoped. Therefore, I have decided to head out to the desert this morning and plan to be home late tonight.

If anyone is wondering just where I’ll be, it will be in the San Rafael Swell. More specifically, I’ll be in the Buckhorn Wash, out by Flattop Mesa, and maybe even head out to the Hidden Splendor Mine a bit later in the day.

I plan to watch the sun set while sitting on the edge of the vermilion cliffs at Little Grand Canyon—after all I didn’t get the opportunity last time.

I’ll surely come back with tales of adventure to share.

Until then,

Adieu

Friday, January 9, 2009

Obituary

Pin It Read, before you panic.



A local teacher passed away as the result of a tragic automobile collision on January 9, 2009. J. Zimmerman was born on September 9 in California to Mr. George Zimmerman and Kathleen Scott, he was proceeded in death by Simon, his younger brother.

“Mr. Z,” as he was affectionately known to his students, was struck by an unidentified parent while on afternoon bus duty January 9, 2009. Mr. Z had rushed into the busy intersection to the aide of one of his students who’d ventured into traffic; he was struck by an oncoming car. He sustained many injuries and was pronounced dead on the scene by paramedics.

Mr. Zimmerman spent much of his life in the service of the children he cared about so much; veteran teacher in his own time—though only having taught for 7 years previous to his passing. He will be missed by all. One teary-eyed student, only identified as ‘Joey,’ said: “I’ve never had a teacher give me as much homework as Mr. Z. I always complained about it, but now I’m really going to miss it.”

Mr. Z had never considered becoming a teacher while growing up; he was bound and determined to pursue a field in cinematography and movie editing. It was while he was serving a mission for the Church of Jesus Christ of Latter-Day Saints that he made the decision to become a teacher. Surprisingly, this decision came about when volunteering at a private Catholic school.

Upon his return to Washington State, he attended college and soon received his associates’ degree—the first member of his family to complete college. He later attended BYU and graduated with a 3.8 grade-point average. After college, Mr. Z was hired by the Provo School District and taught 3rd, 4th, 5th, and 6th grades for seven years. Mr. Z was very active in the after-school programs, and during his fourth year as an educator was recognized as the Provo School District Teacher of the Year. Two years later, he was acknowledged by the Milken Foundation as one of the top educators in the state of Utah.

Mr. Zimmerman had a successful photography business; and he explored many of the deserts of southern Utah. He was always on a trip someplace in the desert; sometimes he’d be gone for weeks on end, making regular calls when he had cell service to let his family and a few friends know where he was. He was able to capture the beauty of the world around him through the lens of his camera, and it was this beauty he sought to share with those he loved.

Mr. Z is survived by his parents and four siblings. Mr. Zimmerman’s services will be held on Monday, January 12, 2009 at Beesley Memorial Home. His remains will then be cremated and scattered by Rob Evans, a friend and local pilot, over the San Rafael Swell Desert, his home away from home.

Contributions, or comments, may be made in his honor on this site.




Okay, my class is currently studying the varied facets of newspapers and yesterday we dabbled into obituaries. The students were then given an assignment…they were to author their own obituary…deciding when and how they would die. While I had some students who chose to be pushed into vats of toxic acid, and others who merely fell into a slumber from which they did not awake, I decided on a more ‘heroic’ demise.

I will say this, they’d never been so excited to write something than they did last night for homework; however, I also made them a deal…I would write an obituary too. While the obituary you read above is a bit more ‘fleshed out’ than the one I shared with the class, the basic cause of death was the same.

However, rest assured…

I’m not dead.

I’m not suicidal.

I’m not dating anyone.

However, many of you have undoubtedly noticed that I hadn’t been blogging very much as of late. In this regard, one would think that I’ve been dead to the blogging world…and maybe I have…

Just know, it isn’t you…it’s me.

Really.

It isn’t that I haven’t had anything to say…it’s just that…well, I haven’t felt a desire to write anything lately. Therefore, I didn’t. It’s hard to explain, really.

I am sorry if I worried any of you. I just didn’t want to write something just for the sake of writing something, you know? If I were going to blog, I wanted it to be of substance and not just another piece of fluff to encumber the Internet.

Ah, the worlds of fluff…

To those who missed me, I thank you. You made my day. Just know…I missed you too.

Sunday, November 30, 2008

I was home

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No, not back at my house, but my home.

It was Glen Phillips, the lead singer of Toad the Wet Sprocket, who’d once said, “You can take me down, you can show me your home. Not the place where you live, but the place where you belong.”


That’s where I went.

When I finally left Hurricane I was debating whether or not I should take the I-70 cutoff and head to the San Rafael Swell. Taking this course of action would be somewhere around 150 miles out of my way, and the day was well half over.

As the interchange loomed steadily nearer at Cove Fort, I made my decision.

I turned.





I passed through several rainstorms along my way, and a building worth of a few photos. As I traveled, I breathed in the beauty of southern Utah. It was well over an hour before I began to see the familiar sandstone cliffs, arrayed with vermillion and amber about me.

Into the playlist went Nickel Creek, and it was official.





I was home.

I can’t express the feeling I had seeing memorable landmarks as I traveled. I’d taken the boys I mentored there once, I’d gotten lost out in that area, there’s the canyon where I’d run out of water, that’s where I’d taken that one photo…

The memories seemed to swirl around and consume me.

I took to a dirt road and began to head into the heart of the Swell. It was much colder than I’d ever known—usually since most of my excursions took place between April and October. It now being the tail end of November brought a distinct chill with it, but this was not unwelcome as I was usually roasting on my visits to this hallowed place.

I took the opportunity to capture a few images as the sun was setting. I’d hoped that I’d be able to hike to Little Grand Canyon and sit at the edge of the sandstone cliffs to watch the sunset, but unfortunately daylight was waning, and there was no way I’d be able to make it there in time.






With this prospect out of the running, I instead decided to try my hand at a few night images with extended exposure. I tried several variations of these images, however, I soon found that my 2,000,000 candlepower light was nearly dead—I should have recharged it.

Curses.

I instead tried something I’ve only recently gotten into: using an external flash to light up the subject of focus with a decreased shutter speed and medium aperture. In other words, I would leave the shutter open and move all around the tree, lighting it up with the flash. For each of the images I used the flash about 14 times. This is what gives the images a ‘ghostly’ glow similar to what I imagine the tree of life would have looked like.

When my shots were finished, I found myself standing alone in pitchy darkness. The aged cliffs rose all about me in silent, shuddering awe. In the sky, an ocean of stars took to their nightly journey across the heavens.

It was absolutely overwhelming and yet welcomed…for I knew that I was probably the only person within a 20 mile radius of my current location. One couldn’t get more alone than I was at that time.

Before long I continued onward to find a panel of petroglyphs to try out extended shutter time and painting with a flashlight, but alas, my “super” flashlight—being near dead—only allowed for one image before dying altogether.

It wasn’t the best shot, but not the worst one either.

The journey home was uneventful, and it was well into the evening that I arrived home, falling in to familiar covers to wrap myself away from the relentless chill of night.

It wasn’t long before I fell into a slumber which held me captive until this morning.

I decided to read up on emails and to get ready for the day when I noticed I had an email from one particular woman who had requested a copy of a video I’d posted on YouTube. She wanted to use it for a Christmas party, and had written to inquire if I would be willing to send her a copy on DVD she could show to a large group. I checked my backup drive for the master video and discovered that I had deleted it some time ago. I remembered that I’d archived it on a DVD though.

I began to look around for the sleeve of said DVDs, remembering that that was the case I’d taken with me on my trip. As I began to scour the house for it, it soon became apparent that it wasn’t with the things I’d brought in last night, so it must have still been in the car.

A quick inspection of my vehicle told me at once that the case was NOT there. Panic started to well up inside of me. That case had master video files AND photography images I didn’t have anywhere else!

I concluded that the case had fallen out of my car when I went off for my night photoshoot and, not realizing it was missing, I’d left it behind on the ground. I double checked everything and my worst realizations were confirmed.

The DVD sleeve was indeed gone.

I quickly began to pack a few various and sundry items, and took them to my car. I knew where the case probably was…the only problem was, it would be a five hour round trip to get it.

I said a small prayer and packed the last few items I’d need in my car. As I put the final necessities onto the backseat, I had the distinct feeling that I should look—yet again—under both of the front the seats.
Grudgingly I did so, and what did I see?

Popcorn…

Just kidding.

It was the case. Somehow or another, it had gotten tucked back under the seat and it was impossible to see it when looking from the front. However, from the back, it was more readily noticed.

I have to be honest, while a part of me felt trepidation at traveling all the way back to the San Rafael Swell, another part of me wishes I’d gone anyhow. I never did get to sit on the edge of the cliffs and watch the sunset.
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