Stories

Telling stories impassions people, causes action. Action that leads to more stories, and so the circle continues. Lately, I have read a number of adventure stories. It started somewhat with semi-rad and lead into Steinbeck’s Travels with Charley and Abbey’s Desert Solitaire and most recently Brendan Leonnard’s The New American Road Trip Mix Tape.

These stories lit the adventure fire and led to a road trip plan. This plan was to pursue some photographic endeavors and visit a place I had lived close to for 13 years but never explored. So, in the spirit of the New American Road Trip Mix Tape, I loaded up a combination of bluegrass from Elevation Outdoors and headed north. The trip contained a tour of the hot button engineering achievement called Glen Canyon Dam, winter camping at the White House Campground, and a quick tour of Wire Pass slot canyon.

At the base of the dam:

Looking out over Lake Powell and back towards the dam. 

And as Samwise Gamgee said, that storm rolling in may start to dampen my spirits. The precipitation wasn’t nearly as impressive as the clouds.

With places to go and daylight waning, I made my way across some desert to Stud Horse Point. I was able to see and be around the Superbowl trophy early! 

Fortunately, the desert saw snow the day before. The loose sugar sand was a challenge for my two wheel drive truck. But the desert cooperated and I followed the words of Horace Greeley - “Go West young man”. The Rim Rock Toadstools await. 

Setting up camp in the dark is not much fun. Especially with a completely unfamiliar campsite and plans of star trail photography. With that in mind, I left the Toadstools even though exploration beckoned me.

I was able to do a little scouting for location, collect some firewood, the type Abbey describes as the “sweetest fragrance on the face of the earth” and set up camp. With long shadows over the area.

It’s at this point in the story that the day winds down into thinking.  My mind really didn’t have opportunity to wander with the planning of each event. Now however, I wait for the stars to come up. With nobody around. Zero people. Only the Paria River in the distance and the crackling of juniper. Solo camping isn’t familiar to me yet. I was just a little, um, weirded out. So I made some tea. That helped. Whew.

Stars - lots.

That clear night let all the heat out of the area. Well, technically it wasn't absolute zero, but it was at a level of cold that overcame any claustrophobia about pulling the drawstring on my sleeping bag tight enough not to see out.

In the morning, the water in my mug started to form ice in about 20 minutes. And my contact lens saline was the consistency of ketchup. 

The coffee and blueberry/buckwheat porridge tasted fantastic.

Up next was quick tour Wire Pass and Buckskin. More Magic. With a little geologic oddity thrown in.

The entrance:

And the slot:

A trip to magical lands. And a ride down a rutted, washboarded House Rock Valley Road. Worth it? You bet.