2006-01-06--2006-01-08: Management Center (on the Grant)

Four of us headed to the Grant right from work around 18:00, Sherry and
I in her car and Rob and Noelle following us.  It was snowing lightly
out and the roads were a bit slippery here and there, so it took a while
to get there.  Sherry and I saw a moose along the road a little south of
Errol, which was a bit scary!  But neat to see it once we realized we
weren't going to hit it.  We stopped briefly in Errol, then continued,
reaching the Managament Center cabin around 21:00, joining Jon Bredin,
Jim Carter, and his girlfriend Suzie.  We stayed up a while socializing,
though I was pretty worn out, still feeling sick.  Finally went to bed
around 23:30 or 00:00.  Sherry and I slept on mattresses near the
woodstove, since I figured it would be much warmer there.

I got up around 08:00 the next morning after decent sleep, considering
my condition, and read by the warm stove for quite a while before
everyone was up.  Jim and Suzie went out quietly for a ski early, but
others slept in.  Someone showed up pretty early at the cabin next door
(Sam's Cabin) too--maybe the guy coming to look for his lost beagle that
we'd heard about.  Eventually Rob and Noelle made a yummy breakfast and
we all ate.  Jim and Suzie also had ot run to Errol to get some warmer
mittens for Suzie.  We then got our gear together and some food and went
out for a ski.  Rob and Noelle also had to run to the store, so they
skied later.  We went north up Dead Diamond Road, then turned right and
went east on Dike Site Road for a while.  It was a very pleasant
ski--quiet and beautiful, with a couple of inches of fresh powder from
last night, on top of a foot or so of snow below that.  We stopped for a
snack after a while, and soon after that turned back.  Sherry and I
skied back a bit ahead of the rest of the group, and stopped briefly to
talk to two gentlemen who were skiing north up the main road.  We got
back and I crashed for a while on the couch while the others socialized
around the woodstove.  Eventually Sherry and I heated up the chili we'd
made and got the rest of dinner ready.  We ate and everyone loved it,
myself included.  After dinner Sherry and I cleaned up, then we all
played different games together, including Pictionary, charades, and
Liar's Dice.  We finally went to bed again at maybe 23:00 or so.

I slept OK again, but was still achey and coughing a lot.  I again got
up earlier than most of the others, and read a while.  Jim and Suzie
were in the kitchen early, cleaning and starting breakfast.  We all ate
a good breakfast of hot oatmeal together after a while, then spent some
time packing a bit before going out in the snow one last time.  Jim and
Suzie went snowshoeing a little ways up the Diamond Peaks Trail, and the
rest of us walked west a short ways on Swift Diamond Road and sledded
down a hilly section of it.  Unlike Dead Diamond Road, this one was
plowed (by loggers) and sledding was fast and fun.  I took some pictures
and took a few runs, then we returned to the cabin.  Jon, Sherry and I
played a game of Carcassonne, and then we all finished packing up and
cleaned the cabin.  Jim and Suzie left a little earlier than the rest of
us since they had something to get back for in the evening.  We locked
up and headed out around 14:00.  Despite feeling pretty sick and out of
it for much of the weekend, it was great to be out in the great white
north, away from it all.


2006-09-30?: John Rand Cabin


2006-10-14: Carlo and Goose Eye

Sherry and I started hiking at around 11:30 from the trailhead on
Success Pond Road, exactly where John and I had done a winter trip back
in March of 2002 (except that we'd skied up Success Pond Road).  The
Carlo Col Trail looked a lot different now than then, and not just
because of the lack of snow.  A logging operation had moved in, and the
unused, overgrown road that had been the beginning of the Carlo Col
Trail four years ago was now a wide, heavily used dirt road, and the
previously surrounding forest was now denuded and very sad to see, with
heaps of discarded smaller trees here and there.  It was a depressing
start to the hike, but we continued past the ugliness and found the
start of the true trail.  We crossed some beautiful shimmering streams
on this sunny but crisp day, and made steady progress up the gentle
slope to Carlo Col, stopping for plenty of nature photos along the way,
and a snack here and there.

We reached the Carlo Col Shelter, just below the ridgeline itself, and
stopped briefly to check it out.  We saw our first traces of snow at
that point, and also got some warm sun as it poured in between the
trees.  A few minutes later we were at the junction with the AT on the
ridgeline and we turned left to head up to the summit of Mt. Carlo.  We
passed a friendly older couple on the way and had a brief chat, then
just before the summit we found a nice little spot with views to sit
down and eat our lunch, around 13:30.  We took more photos and soaked up
the sun, then continued over the flattish summit, and began to climb
down again.  We passed an energetic group of six younger folks, then
made the steep descent to the col between Carlo and Goose Eye.  Along
the way we passed a treeless area that I remembered from the winter trip
as a place where John and I were stuck for quite a while searching for
the trail.  After passing a group of four friendly hikers, we made our
way quickly back up to the exposed shoulder of Goose Eye and took in
more expansive views.  The cool air continued to be counteracted by the
hot sun.  We made our way over the shoulder and then through thick
evergreens to the final steep, though short, ascent to Goose Eye.  I
remembered vividly this portion of the hike from the previous trip, as
there's a ladder up the worst part of it.  In just a couple of minutes
we were on the summit nub of Goose Eye with excellent 360-degree views.
We snapped several photos and sat down for another snack and to enjoy
the vistas.

The wind was unobstructed up there and so we found shelter behind a rock
outcropping.  Eventually we walked around for one last look as the sun
got lower in the sky.  It was wonderful having the place all to
ourselves.  But it couldn't last, and we headed down the steep descent
on the west side of the summit, dropping altitude quickly.  The icy
trail made the descent a little dangerous, but we were careful and moved
quickly nonetheless, anxious to finish off the last leg of the hike,
which is always the most tedious.  We passed through a beautiful
hardwood forest, orange with fall leaves and late afternoon sun.  Lower
down we crossed partially regrown logging territory that afforded wide
views of the ridgeline we'd just been on.  The last stretch was almost
entirely flat and easy on the knees.  We arrived back at the car in good
time, around 17:00.  It had turned out to be an excellent day for a
hike.


2006-03-31--2006-04-06:

Kevin drove down to Salt Lake City to meet Travis and I.  Trav had no
troubles with his flights, though I was delayed in Atlanta when our
plane had mechanical problems discovered after we boarded.  Luckily they
reboarded us quickly on another plane, and a few thousand miles later I
was arriving in Salt Lake City around 23:00 or so local time.  Kevin
found me in the men's room near the baggage claim, funnily enough, and
soon we were on our way toward the Escalante.

We had about four hours to drive, and I don't remember exactly the route
we took, but we were all wired and had no problem staying awake, jazzed
up about getting started on another trip.  Of course the roads were
empty at that hour, so we made good time.  We started down I-15 and then
probably took Route 50 to Salina, then 24 down to 12.  We took turns
driving, and most of our time on the smaller roads was spent dodging
(with a few unlucky exceptions) crazy jackrabbits.  There were literally
hundreds of them around, and they would zigzag in the road, going from
seemingly out of harm's way right back in front of the car.  There were
also several groups of deer grazing right along the side of the road,
and we kept a careful eye on them as well.  Thankfully they never really
moved around much on us.

We stopped at a tiny gas station in the small town of Boulder at just
before 04:00.  The store was closed, but the gas pumps were on and we
filled up, paying with credit.  We drove a short distance further, with
me at the wheel, along a windy road with nothing but darkness beyond the
narrow shoulders.  We suspected that there were steep drops nearby, but
little did we know that we were on a narrow stretch with big drops on
both sides.  Oh well!  We soon arrived at the Calf Creek campground and
drove all around looking for an empty site.  We found only one, and soon
we had our tent up and crashed for a few hours.

We got up around 07:30 and after taking in some of our canyony
surroundings (it was weird having driven there in total darkness, then
waking up to see all that we'd missed), we headed to the Escalante
visitor center in the town of Escalante.  I had spent a significant
amount of time planning out all kinds of possible loop routes for us to
do, most or all of which started in Harris Wash, followed the Escalante
River for a while, then came back out in a smaller canyon or over the
slickrock back to the starting point.  The rangers at the visitor center
nixed those ideas pretty fast--this seems to happen every year.  It
seemed there was some concern about a rise in river level, and since
we'd had little experience with canyoneering (Kevin did one trip in
Capitol Reef NP in college), we really weren't in any position to argue
that we'd be just fine.  After listening to several suggestions from
them and feeling pretty indecisive, we decided to go get some breakfast
and think about it.  We picked up some random items from the local
grocery store and chatted with the guy at the register a bit, then
munched on our food out in the car.

We then visited Escalante Outdoors, a store just up the road that I'd
read about.  We talked to the proprietors there for quite a while, and
she convinced us that Coyote Gulch, which we'd heard about from the
rangers too, was really a great place to go.  We settled on it right
then and there, picked up some quad maps of the areas from them, and
returned to the visitor center.  There we got a permit and the rangers
pointed out various points of interest, which we added to our map.  Our
final decision was to hike Hurricane Wash to Coyote Gulch, then up the
Escalante a little ways to Fool's Canyon, then take that back to the
west, climb out, and hike over the slickrock back to Hurricane Wash
again to complete a loop.  As soon as we wrapped up at the visitor
center, we made haste for the Hurricane Wash trailhead, anxious to get
started.

We zipped down Hole-in-the-Rock Road, which heads south from town in
Kevin's Subaru, stopping only to make some final phone calls to family
before disappearing for a week.  We couldn't help but snap photos of the
unfamiliar desert flora, too.  Once at the trailhead, where there were a
few other cars, we spent a while packing up, then finally started out at
12:30.

The weather was pretty comfortable, with mostly blue skies and
temperatures in the low 80s.  We followed a scarcely used jeep trail
along Hurricane Wash, walking mostly in sand, which requires some
effort.  Trav and I continued snapping pictures left and right of all of
the things that were new to us in this desert climate--small, dry plants
(lots of yucca), red sandstone with various shapes, sizes, and patterns
of wear, occasional cows on higher ground around us, a rare solitary
tree, and even one jackrabbit.  Trav punted some cow patties, and we
smashed some clumbs of hard-packed red sand that looked like solid
rocks.  Before long we reached a cattle fence and walked through a
hiker's maze to get to the other side.  Slowly the wash started looking
more and more like a canyon, but before we got much further we stopped
for lunch.  Lots of photos were taken of the rock formations around
where we ate, a bulge of thinly striated sandstone.  Around this time I
put some duct tape on my heels as I was starting to get hot spots from
my boots.

As we continued deeper into canyon country, we roamed out of the base of
the wash up onto the rolling sandstone just for a little fun and
variation.  Trav identified a tiny rock arch--hereafter known as Trav's
Arch--and also found a tiny snake (maybe a pygmy rattlesnake) and some
vertebrae of a long-dead small animal nearby.  At that point a couple of
hikers went by in the other direction down at the base of the wash below
us.  I'm not sure they actually saw us.  We kept plodding along and soon
passed a sign declaring that we were entering the Glen Canyon National
Recreation Area.  There now were actual stretches of canyon, with walls
high enough that we couldn't climb out.  One stretch was long and quite
narrow--maybe 10 feet wide--with walls several dozen feet high.  It was
our first real experience of being at the mercy of a canyon with no
quick way out.  Though the terrain was still sandy and bone dry
underfoot, we considered what the consequences might be of getting
caught in there during a flash flood.  There were enough curves and
bends in that section that we really had no idea how long it would last,
but no sooner had we started imagining scary scenarios did the canyon
wall drop right back down again.

Not long after, at about 15:00, the a little dampness started to show in
the wash.  With it, cattails and other assorted larger plants started to
appear.  As the dampness turned into muddiness and then soon a mucky
trickle of water, we passed the old carcass of a cow among some reeds.
The canyon walls became higher again, and we spotted signs of humans in
the area, including a couple of tents.  One of them was surrounded by
grazing cattle--a funny surprise for the hikers to find whenever they
returned.  Along some rocks and up a tree we spotted an incredible,
dense highway of black ants.  They must've found something worth going
to and from, but we couldn't see that they were carrying anything.

The trickle of water was now rapidly growing in size, become quite a
stream.  The canyon itself was getting much wider, but also much deeper,
with more and more impressive cliff walls of red sandstone.  The terrain
was quite sandy, though it was hard-packed in many places.  When the
opportunity first arose to walk right over to the base of a huge canyon
wall (which was not always possible because of the terrain and brush),
we took it, looking up in awe at the vertical cliff, often quite flat,
but sometimes containing various different patterns of cleavage and
wear.  Also coating the walls in streaks and swaths was black desert
varnish, a complex accumulation of various microscopic substances.  In
many places, the base of the canyon wall was undercut more than the rest
of the wall above it, presumably owing to the water flowing at the base.
These alcoves of various sizes often struck us as nice little refuges
from the rain or sun, but usually the ground was wet or damp near them.

Dogwood trees, common near water in canyons, started popping up.  Brush
became much thicker, and the trail often hugged very close to the
stream.  We were doing our best to stay out of the water, though if we
only knew just how much wading we would be doing in the upcoming days,
we might not have bothered.  At a little bit after 16:00, we reached the
point at which Harris Wash met Coyote Gulch.  There we dropped our
packs, as it looked to be an excellent place to camp for the night.  A
couple more parties came through not long after we got there, some of
whom we said a brief hello to.  We spent some time canvassing the area,
checking out the plants--tumbleweeds, prickly pear cacti, and others--as
well as the brown water of the gulch.  It had been clearer in Harris
Wash, but now it was pretty much opaque.  It was very odd to look down
at the stream, knowing that it was only an inch or two deep near the
edge, but not being able to see it visually.  It often gave one the
perception that it was much deeper than it really was.

There was one big, gnarly old cottonwood tree at this location, and it
was good for climbing.  It wasn't long before Kevin was making his way
up to the higher branches.  I personally took the opportunity to lie
down underneath it for a rest.  After Kevin made his way back down, we
set to work cooking dinner.  We all sat on the edge of a grassy area
where it met the sand, which comprised most of the ground surface in the
area.  It was fairly easy to kick sand up, so we were careful not to.
We thawed and cooked a frozen block of ground elk burger and mixed it
with noodles for a tasty dish of, as we dubbed it, Elkburger Helper.
Kevin had the idea to bring it along to continue our trend of eating
fancy (as backpacking goes) meals.  For something involving raw meat,
freezing it solid and then cooking it the first night was about the only
possibility.

After eating, I watched as Trav and Kev tossed a frisbee around.  Travis
has been in the habit of bringing it on recent trips, and I always find
it funny to be out in the middle of the wilderness and tossing a frisbee
around.  Better than bringing wiffle ball, I guess!  I went on a short
walk myself, checking things out just around the bend downstream.  From
there it was easier to get a view of a pasture-like sloping landscape
that we'd noticed from camp.  Across the stream, beyond some thick
brush, the ground sloped up at a fairly steep angle before reaching the
canyon wall several dozen feet up.  From there the canyon wall continued
vertically up a few dozen feet further to the rim.  Despite the
steepness of the grassy area, there were a few well-cut sandy trail,
which we presumed were from cattle, though we hadn't seen any in a while
and were surprised that they might come this far downcanyon.

Next we set up the tent, then set off to do some exploring with the
remaining daylight.  We hiked a short distance upstream along Coyote
Gulch, and then into a side canyon on the north side.  It was quiet,
peaceful, and grassy, with only a small faded trail heading in.  The
hikeable portion of it wasn't a very long, and soon we reached an
impassable obstacle--a huge bowl with a stagnant pool of water at its
bottom and a narrow pour-off at the far end of it.  It almost seemed
like it might be possible to skirt around the rim of the bowl, hugging
the canyon wall, and reach the pour-off, but even if possible, it
would've been extremely dangerous, as the drop into the base of the bowl
was several dozen feet or more.  So we scrambled safely around the other
side of the bowl, where it met the grass, and took in our surroundings.
Maidenhair moss grew in several places at seepages around the rim of the
bowl, and far overhead we spotted a large bird of prey gliding on
thermals.

After playing around a bit, we started wandering back.  As the sun got
low and the sky clouded up, it got quite dim in the canyon, and it was
eerie being in there all alone, with only our echoes talking back to us.
Nonetheless, we playfully made our way back out of the box canyon to
Coyote Gulch and on to our camp site.  Having gotten so little sleep the
night before, we slept at 20:00, not long after darkness set in.

The next morning we got up at about 08:00 and broke camp leisurely.  We
had a fairly simple breakfast of cereal (made with powdered milk), got
packed up, and finally started moving around 09:30.  We continued
downcanyon in Coyote Gulch, excited about what cool things we might
found around every twist and turn in the canyon.  After about only 10
minutes of hiking, we reached a point at which it was no longer possible
to avoid walking in the continually growing stream.  After some
pondering about how much effort to make to keep our shoes dry, Kevin
took the plunge, stepping right out into the water with his shoes on.
It was the right decision--it was really not worth the effort to try to
stay dry.  And besides, it was warm enough that we didn't need to worry
about losing too much body heat from wetness.  I switched from my
uncomfortable hiking boots into my neoprene booties, which I'd bought
specially for this trip.  They would turn out to be so comfortable that
I would never switch back for the rest of the trip.

So onward we splashed, admiring more of the high walls, desert varnish,
and overall beauty of the canyon.  There was still some thick brush here
and there, but it was generally less of a problem as we continued
further into the canyon.  We continued to pass by dogwoods, though they
(and almost everything else) were mostly bare, only just starting to
bloom in the new season.  Probably in a week or two the canyon would be
considerably more verdant, but for now it was mostly gray, with the
exception of some grassy patches and some small plants here and there.

By 10:00 we found our first set of Moqui steps--footholds carved in the
sloping sandstone by Native Americans hundreds of years ago.  I'd read
about them in our canyoneering guide book, and was on the lookout for
them.  Every time we encountered a canyon wall that seem to be sloped
shallow enough to climb, I watched for them.  I first spotted them on
the inside of a sharp turn in the canyon, and we took a short break to
check them out.  Kevin climbed up the rock a little ways ways, but it
was very steep, and Trav and I opted not to.  Just around the corner
from them were a few more, but they started about six feet or so above
the sandy ground, suggesting to me that the ground level was much higher
at the time they were carved.  It was really fascinating to us to find
these well-hidden signs of an ancient civilization, and I imagined what
it would be like living in such a place.

There really did seem to be something interesting around every corner.
Part of the excitement was due to our unfamiliarity with this kind of
terrain, and part of it was due to the sheer beauty of the place.  The
next notable encounter took place only about 15 minutes later.  We knew
we were approaching Jacob Hamlin Arch, and sure enough, we started to
see some color up ahead, and it turned to be several hikers and their
tents in a big sandy area just before the arch.  The arch itself slowly
came into view, and was pretty amazing.  It had formed from a fin in the
sandstone that had gotten so thin--being undercut on both sides by the
sharp meander in the river--that the bottom finally collapsed out of it,
leaving a massive sandstone bridge above, perhaps 50 feet up.  The
boulder pile below the arch seemed like too much of an effort to
scramble over, so we followed the meander around the arch.  We were glad
that we did, because the turn in the river had undercut the canyon wall
so deeply that the entire river, as well as a large sandy area on the
inside bank, was completely covered by overhang.  The area was clearly
heavily visited, though we had it to ourselves at the moment.  Seats and
even a cup holder was carved into the hard-packed sand, as wall as
dozens of little graffiti from who knows how long ago.

After hanging out there for a bit, we continued around to the other side
of the arch, where we had read that there was a slope amenable to hiking
up and out of the canyon.  It was rated class 5 for a brief section,
which made me balk, though looking at it it didn't seem so bad.  After
struggling a bit up an initial scramble, we all got to a flat area below
the long scramble straight up the sandstone.  Trav and Kev headed right
up, though I hemmed and hawed about whether to go.  I knew that I could
probably get up without a problem, but getting down is always
harder--and scarier.  I went up about a third of the way, debated, then
carefully made my way back down.  I took some photos, decided to wait,
but then began to think about what I might be missing out on.  I
decided, perhaps rashly, to climb up.  Without wasting any time, I
quickly scrambled all the way up to the slickrock above the canyon.  It
wasn't hard, and perhaps hiking down wouldn't be too hard either--I tend
to worry more than I need to--but for now I didn't have to think about
it.  The terrain was like a skateboarders dream, rolling gently this way
and that with various shapes of weather-worn sandstone forming small
hills and valleys.  A few puddles of water and tufts of greenery broke
up the otherwise solid orange landscape.

Travis and Kevin had made their way over to the right a ways, inching
close to the edge of the overhang that we'd so recently been underneath.
It was amazing to see the arch from above, but even more amazing to see
the canyon itself, as well as the endless rolling desert slickrock
beyond it, and in pretty much all directions.  We took some photos, and
though I never got near the edge, thank you, I got close enough to look
down in.  I spent some time wandering around the orange hills, finding
and photographing small lizards that would occasionally skitter across
my path.  After soaking in the change of scenery for a while, we decided
to descend.  I didn't want to prolong the ordeal, so I went on ahead and
quickly, but carefully, made my way down.  It wasn't as bad as I'd
feared, and seemed easier than when I'd backtracked part-way down the
first time.  So