Stuck in the Sands of Ruby Ranch Road

Pin It

By Teachinfourth, Adventures and Misadventures of Daily Living

Published: May 2, 2012  8:12 A.M MST

PROVO, UTAH—A local blogger and 5th grade teacher said that he never expected his trip to southern Utah to end out on Ruby Ranch Road in the heart of nowhere—but it did.

Teachinfourth headed down to Green River on Friday to spend some time with a few friends. On Saturday afternoon the group decided to take a day trip to see a local geyser; however, the 45-minute trip stretched to a record six hours from start to finish.

“I took a side road after the geyser,” Teachinfourth admitted. “Just to see where it went. After all, you never see anything new by always sticking to the roads you already know.”

After hitting a few patches of sand, they realized that there would be no turning back. They instead continued onward, thinking that the road would join another they’d seen go off to the right. However, in another half mile, they could go no further.

“It was adventure,” John Hughes, Teachinfourth’s friend, said laughing about the whole thing. “And not something I was worrying about. In fact the only thing I was worried about was running out of baby wipes for my daughter.”

They tried to dig out the front tires and make a trail of rocks and sticks, but it was to no avail. So, while the kids watched a movie in the car, Teachinfourth and his friend, Mindy, headed out to make a call after finding a few bars of service some thousand feet from the car.

“We called John’s parents,” Teachinfourth said. “They had a four-wheel drive. I told them that we were stuck in the sand and it wasn’t John’s fault…this was solely my doing…John’s parents just laughed. I guess this sort of thing happened once a long time ago.”

Teachinfourth, Mindy, and one of John’s children, Micah, walked up the road to greet the rescue party; as they were wandering, Mindy mused, “I wonder if this is how Gilligan felt when he started out on his 'three-hour-tour'.”

After forty-five minutes, the Senior Hughes family arrived. As Mindy, Micah, and Teachinfourth climbed into the truck, Grandma Hughes turned around and asked, “What kind of car are you driving?”

“A Santa Fe,” Teachinfourth responded.

“You really need to get a Chevy,” she said with a laugh. “They can get through anything.”

Grandma Hughes wasn’t joking. After a few minutes of digging and pushing, the car was easily pulled out and the group was again on their way. The drive back to Green River took just over a half hour and it wasn’t long before everyone was munching on toast and cold cereal for dinner.

“It was quite the adventure,” Teachinfourth said. “Not one I’d care to repeat…but at least this one didn’t last the entire night.

Treachinfourth can be found writing several times a week at www.teachinfourth.blogspot.com

Two eyewitness accounts may be found here and here about this excursion.

Expeditions

Pin It

I cracked open the door, exposing the contents to light for the first time in nearly two years.

Two years.

The dusty aroma of sand wafted to my nostrils as I pulled the door of the travel trailer open to its full extent. I gazed silently at the camping gear, nestled and safe in its small apartment-like home. The items snugged away before me brought back a rush of vivid memories, fun times, and moments that helped to shape hundreds of students' lives over the past 10 to 15 years. I began to sift about in the weathered storage totes, brimming with old cooking supplies, tents and tarps, and plastic-shrouded night hike poems.

As I pulled these poems from the place where they’d slumbered for the past two years, I remembered the night hike through the goblins. I recalled reading these poems by the light of eerie lanterns while a star explosion took place overhead; the Milky Way spread through the blackness of night like a smearing of fresh butter on burned toast. Looking up at that sky was surreal. Hiking amongst the hoodoos by the light of glow sticks was unforgettable.

I pushed away the thoughts and climbed into the back of the trailer, wishing I’d thought to bring a change of clothes rather than soil the items I usually wore to school. Ah well, the dirt and dust—familiar to me—was a welcome dirtifier of my clothes. I felt a trill of excitement as I rummaged back further into shadowy corners, memories spilling out from each cloud of ancient dust—having been locked away in that storage trailer; protected and shielded from the ravages of time.

The idea of the upcoming trip, though not to the scope of magnitude that it at one time was, still makes me smile though two of my trusty sidekicks won’t be along with me for this one.

This is my adventure.

I leave in 30 minutes.

Yellow Rooms, distant canyons, & facial hair

Pin It I must preface this post with the message that this experience occurred some four months ago. However, due to other things far more pressing in my life, it became lost—buried in a sea of documents on a laptop—only to be rediscovered again tonight as I was poking around in search of something else.

I present it now—four months late. But as the saying goes, it is better late than never.

So, please imagine that I am down in Hurricane, Utah at the present moment…summer is just beginning and a whole lifetime of adventures await…


The light knock sounded on the door of the ‘yellow room’ this morning; I say the yellow room because that is the color of the room which I’m staying…bright, and cheery. Like a dear friend which eagerly awaits your arrival; I could say the same of the Monk Family—much more like my own family than simply friends, but I digress.

The knock sounded followed by the nervous voice, “Are you awake?”

The door cracked open just a portion; enter ten year-old Tanner, youngest mancub of said ‘family,’ asking if I would be willing to take a hike to the local canyon, ‘Three Falls.’

He’d been asking since yesterday, so within ten minutes said boy and I were hiking along the street, backpacks and water bottles in tow, ready to conquer not just one or two, but all three falls of the valley at road’s end.

As we came to the mouth of the ravine, the sun shone in some places, while not in others. The aqueduct built years before for the overflow of water from the ravine was slightly reminiscent of fortress battlements.


“I sometimes come up here and pretend that this is a castle,” Tanner admitted. “I imagine that I’m defending it from invaders like Orcs.”


We made our way up the steep hillsides littered with loose stones and precarious ledges as we ascended the way to three falls.

“I like it here,” Tanner said as we stopped for a water break sometime later. “It’s quiet.”

As if in reply to his words, the lamenting wind began to blow through the jags of stone and heave a long, melodious sigh—as if hopeful to whisper its secrets to those with ears attuned to listen.

As we climbed higher, the sun rose above us, waxing everything over with its warm rays. When I climbed down to a certain part of two falls to investigate its safety, Tanner waited at the top. As I made the arduous climb back to the promontory where Tanner awaited I made a request, “Tanner…I need some music to help me climb. Give me a soundtrack, boy!”

To this, Tanner promptly started to belt out:

“Right now you can hardly breathe…
But you can do it just.know.that.I.believe…
Then that’s all you really need
So come on, I’ll make you strong…it’s time to turn it up, GAME ON!”

Sung like a true ten year-old who loves High School Musical.

And with that brief harmonious interlude, we continued on our venture up the desolate gorge. As we walked, Tanner asked, “I was wondering, when do people go through puberty?”

Thinking that this was really a subject best broached by parents, I decided to give only the barest of answers to questions he might ask, and deflect the rest of them to his mom and dad.

“It’s different for everybody,” I said. “For some people, it starts when they’re ten or eleven, for others it’s even later like fifteen or sixteen. However, it usually starts somewhere around twelve.”

He quietly mulled this over for a minute or two as we trudged along.

“You know why I’m excited for puberty?”

I had to be honest, I had no idea. I couldn’t remember being excited about anything when it came to puberty when I was a kid; nothing that is unless you counted getting taller.

Tanner leaned in close and whispered, “Sideburns.”

“Sideburns?”

“Yeah,” he rubbed his cheeks with the back of his hand. “I’d like to have some sideburns.”

Once again, the mancub surprises me

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.

I was home

Pin It

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.

The Camping Trip

Pin It I wanted to do a post today.

Our Goblin Valley trip is amazing! There was a bit of trouble last night though…the wind started to pick up and blew down the Black family’s tent! It was quite humorous really…well, not really. I guess All-A-Boy thought it was necessary to come tell me all about it (at 2 am). I was able to help them get it back up and we all returned to sleep about fifteen minutes later. Of course, I was the hero the next morning because AAB felt he had to tell everyone about my heroic act.

The curses of being in a tent next door!

It was an absolutely glorious morning when we got up. I ended up getting up about an hour before the sunrise and decided to take a little hike by myself. It was so quiet and…how do I say it?

Magnificent.

It was almost a shame when everybody else woke up a bit later and noise broke into my solace in the wilderness.

After a breakfast of French toast (Suki is amazing) and milk that was only slightly warm we headed out to Little Wildhorse Canyon. If you’ve never been there, you are missing out on one of those places God placed on the earth just so people would say, “Whoa…”

I was a bit worried about all of the adults enjoying themselves, and taking part in the “family” activities. However, I need not have worried, everybody was really involved in the activities and we had a great time. If you’ve never been to Wildhorse Canyon, you are sorely missing out on one of the wonderful things life has to offer. I HIGHLY recommend going and taking part in it!

Later tonight we are going to make S’mores—truly one of the best things about camping. In fact, I’d better go; I’m supposed to be playing guitar for campfire in just a few minutes.

Until next time…

By the way, you’re probably wondering how I am posting from the desert…the coolest thing here at the valley…some of the rangers and environmentalists realized that people out in the desert have often been stranded or died because of lack of ways to communicate. To help combat this they decided to breed a new cactus which actually transmits wireless service!

I know; crazy!

By the way, if you believe that, I’ve got some really great invisible stuff I’d like to sell you…and some shares of a new bridge they’re building across Utah Lake.

Day 1

Pin It I am currently in Hurricane, Utah. I am here at my friends’ house where I currently have access to the Internet. To tell you the truth, I had no idea where I was going to end up…because I had this gigantic bout of indecision, I decided that it would be best if I came down to the St. George area first and take care of my friend’s daughter’s senior pictures. While down here I would do a little more research as to just where else I would like to go.

So, I promptly packed my hiking and camping gear, hopped in my car, and made the four-hour drive southward, arriving around four this afternoon.

I love being here at my friend’s house. They are so truly amazing. I also called up my cousin and aunt tonight and have plans to visit with them during the week sometime.

I am thinking of heading off to Grand Staircase – Escalante while being down here and checking out some of the sights. Not sure just yet, but undoubtedly, there will be something amazing around here for me to see...something like this:

Hiking

Pin It I will be gone.

I decided this a few days ago. I am going to southern Utah.

When am I coming back? I don't know.

Where exactly am I going? Well, to be honest, I haven’t fully decided. There are those “familiar haunts” which I really enjoy being at, however, I am feeling the need for someplace new…you know, a place I haven’t seen before; a new adventure eagerly awaiting my eyes.

All I know is that I am going.

Desert Journal

Pin It My mom gave me this great desert journal. It is so great to have a place in which I can record the things I experience while out here in the area I love the most.

Giving Up

Pin It

(October 12, 2007)

It is really amazing what life teaches us through what we see around us. As I woke up this morning I was greeted by a beautiful day. I was up immediately and was taking some photographs when I found two trees, side-by-side.

One of these trees was alive and the other was dead. Both had gnarled bark and each was stooped, as if standing straight had been far too much. However, it looked as if one of them had just given up.

It amazes me that both of these trees took different pathways and is still with us, while the other is not.

Is this not a metaphor of life? That there are many around us still in the land of the living, but inside are “dead” because they’ve given up?

As I sit there and gaze at these two trees, I am faced with a daunting question...which of these two am I?

The $100 photo (or music for the fish)

Pin It I took a drive up Provo Canyon today and found myself at Cascade Springs. What a truly glorious afternoon it was to be out enjoying the beauty of the world at this wonderful time of year. In fact, while up at the springs, I took quite a famous photo that is worth $100. Now, I know what you’re thinking. You’re wondering just how I was able to calculate the value of this fantastic photograph...right?

Well, make yourself comfortable because I will spin you a tale which will undoubtedly cause you to laugh, cry, and draw in your breath as you clutch the person next to you. Yes, it really is that good.

To answer your question, I need to let you know about a little thing know as economics. You see economics, or the study of goods and services, teaches us about something called “opportunity cost.” Opportunity Cost quite simply states that we cannot have everything we want because our wants are limitless, and the things we very often desire are scarce. When we “purchase” something, either with our money or our time, it comes at the cost of something else which we could have gotten/done instead. Say, for instance, I wanted to go to the movies to see “Hairspray” yet, I also wanted to make sure the kitchen and bathroom at my house were clean before I left for ComedySportz that night. Well, because my time is scarce, and I can’t “make” any more of it, I need to spend it on that which will do the greatest good, right? (By the way, the movie was awesome).

“So”, I can almost hear you ask, “Just what was the opportunity cost of this photo, Jason?”

Suffice it to say, the “cost” involved with my famous photo came at the price of something else…Now, before you start second-guessing and decide that I spent too much of my day there (which I had planned to do anyhow) I will just tell you. You see, I went to Cascade Springs fully intending to spend some of my time there, it was not a cost to me, however, what I did not expect to spend was this:

Now, there are undoubtedly some of you whose little brains are already working this one out. For those a little less adept I will explain. You see, I was on this arching bridge and looking up at the glorious view you saw previously in the top photo. I thought a much better depiction of the scene could only happen if I were to hold my camera right above the water and snap the photo from this vantage point.

The plan was beautiful—however not flawless—for as I leaned out over the water something slipped from my shirt pocket and fell with a splash into the crystalline water, flowing like liquid silver beneath me. It took only a split second to figure out what it was. I quickly placed my other valuables on the shore by the bank and returned to the bridge, leaning out over the side and feeling around under the rapidly-flowing water. The stream was ice-cold and as my fingertips floundered around mossy stones and watercress, I came up empty-handed.

An elderly couple was quite sympathetic of my plight as they had witnessed the entire tragic event from the shore. As I looked down into the quickly-flowing water and stabbed my hand in for another go, the elderly gentlemen (whom I will christen as “Rufus”) felt free to tell me something entirely obvious, “I saw something black slip out of your pocket...but I don’t see it anymore.”

Thanks, Grandpa Rufus…I couldn’t figure that one out all on my own.

I soon gave up my attempt, passing it all off with a laugh and wandered up the trail, after all, Rufus and this wife had wanted to use the bridge to get their picture taken by their son and I was in their way. As I walked along the trail alone and in complete silence, I was lost in thought...I was thinking of ways which I could reacquire my Mp3 player. Undoubtedly, rainbow trout were even now enjoying the sounds of Nickel Creek or had started listening to the 7th Harry Potter audio book...they probably wanted to know what was going to happen with He-Who-Must-Not-Be-Named just as much as I did. It was at this moment that I came up with my ingenious plan to get my player back…

I remembered a sign earlier on in my walk proudly proclaiming that 7,000,000 gallons of water flowed from Cascade Springs every day. Alright, since there are 24 hours in a day with 60 minutes to each, that would put you at 1,440 minutes per day. Multiply this by 60 seconds per minute and you’ve got 86,400 seconds. Now, divide seven million by this number and it gives you roughly 81 gallons of water flowing every second...however, since some of this must sink into the ground, and animals must drink a portion of it as well as some of it being lost back to the air through evaporation, I was probably only looking at about 70 gallons.

Whoa…70 gallons! When I think of gallons I always think of containers of milk…and that, my friend, is a lot of milk. I have a pretty good understanding of a gallon because I did a “gallon challenge” at a ward party awhile ago and I tried to drink a gallon of warm lemonade before any of the 9 other idiots did. It only took me about ¾ of the gallon before I began throwing it all up (along with dinner) but had to continue doing it anyway because all of my friends (as well as complete strangers) were cheering me on and chanting my name, however, that is another story. My point is…70 gallons a second is a LOT of water.

Alright, that means my first plan was not only ridiculous, but theoretically impossible as I had no way to divert 70 gallons of water for even one second…much less any way to soak it up. My second idea was much better and it was only a simple matter of logic to arrive at it. I didn’t have to block the water flow at all, but instead conduct an experiment which would allow for me to not only find my Mp3 player, but to prove that all of that junk I learned years ago in science when studying about aerodynamics could indeed come in handy.

All I had to do was to find a rock similar in weight and size to my Mp3 player, copy the trajectory and entry into the water exactly as it had fallen out of my pocket, watch where the rock landed, and I would know the exact location of my submerged musical gadget! Ah…I walked quicker, and as I did I congratulated myself for my sheer genius and brilliance!

Well, rocks are not all too plentiful in areas of water. Undoubtedly, there had been many children in this area for countless years who’d scoured the ground pretty thoroughly for rocks…since most of these were probably already in the brook, it took a little longer to find one than I’d originally anticipated. After a few minutes of searching I finally found one that would suit my purposes. I returned to the bridge with a smug grin, fully believing that I would retrieve my Mp3 player...and perhaps it wasn’t ruined after all but would work again once I had dried it out. Rufus’ wife—I’ll call her Agnes—had helpfully pointed out that cell phone batteries could be saved once they were submerged in water if you buried them under rice. Not that I had any rice with me, but I could try this out once I gotten home.

I very carefully took my stone and repeated the “fall” just as it had happened before. I watched carefully as the rock quickly sank into the water, not five inches downstream from its point of entry.

I quickly positioned myself on the bridge and reached down into the water yet again. I searched more thoroughly than I had done before. I also noticed several people who’d been walking down toward the bridge suddenly seemed to change their mind as wanting to cross over it…probably thinking I was lying there because I’d just crawled out from underneath it, like the trolls you always read about in fairy tales who lived under the bridge and collected tolls from unwary travelers.

Well, after successfully freezing both of my hands and scaring off a 10 year-old and his dog, I came up once-again empty handed. It was no use, my Mp3 player was officially MIA.

I walked back to my car, somewhat forlornly. I climbed inside and started the engine before I noticed what was on my windshield…

You have got to be kidding…

Well, I searched around for my National Parks Pass so I could flash that to the ranger and get out of there without paying the extra fee but it was no avail…I couldn’t find my pass at all…I must have taken it out of my car. Why? I don’t know…maybe I thought I’d be walking to a national park instead of driving. I dug around in my car for the $3 fee but the smallest bill I had on me was a fiver…there was no way I was going to give up two extra dollars when I figured that Forestry Service owed me a new Mp3 player anyhow!

Unfortunately, people just wouldn’t see it that way and if I said anything they’d probably have ticketed me for “littering” or something like that. I did, however, take quite a bit of pleasure in paying for my “visit” in small change.

Oh, and by the way, I was wrong with what I’d originally said…that picture is actually worth $103.

Sundays and Sundance

Pin It

What is it about being at Sundance here in Provo Canyon that makes such a big difference for me? I think that it comes from being tucked away in the mountains surrounded by the majestically towering pines, the wind blowing through their lofty branches, and the veritable orchestra of sound as the river courses its way past me. Throw in the sound of the leafy aspens, just starting to show distinct signs of fall, kissed with reds and yellows, and you’ve got yourself off to a good start.

I love the smells up here too…those fresh, invigorating scents which make me remember old songs on the radio and cherished memories. I drink in these smells and greet them like some of my oldest and dearest friends.

Sunday afternoon…what a perfect time to find a place of solace! You can also imagine my surprise when I decided to write for a few minutes up here at the theatre at Sundance, opened my laptop, turned on a few Nickel Creek tunes, and then discovered that they had free wireless Internet. Ah, what a great extra bonus to an already glorious day!

It wasn’t long before a few friends contact me on IM and I began to wonder…do they have any idea of where I am right now? I also wondered just how jealous they may be if they only knew…

Oh, and by the way, Lindsay Lohan is up here too though I haven't seen her...after all, she is in rehab.

The Capitol Reef Adventure

Pin It
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.