A Snapshot and The Scoop: Agate Fossil Beds

Sitting deep in an out of the way corner of western Nebraska, nestled between rolling sandhills and towering bluffs, lies Agate Fossil Beds National Monument. A quarry boasting bone and ash deposits from prehistoric times, Agate Fossil Beds was a stop along my dad's and my Father-Daughter trip this past winter. I somehow convinced Dad to make the walk along a windswept prairie path, passing over a baby Niobrara River, to the hills where the most concentration of fossils have been found. We were the only visitors around, so close to closing time, and we had the views and the trail all to ourselves. We took our time walking the paved path around the hills, searching for a hint of fossilized bone sticking out of the earth. We didn't see anything we recognized, but that's not to say there wasn't something right under our noses and we didn't know. It was a bit chilly, especially for me since my blood has thinned from living in the south for so long, and we didn't exactly spend hours outside. The walk was still nice, though, and the quite of the prairie around us reminded me why I like western Nebraksa.

Leave me a comment and tell me if you've ever been to this small National Monument. What did you think of it?

A Snapshot and The Scoop: Wilderness

Wilderness. What do you think of when you read that word? Untouched forests or deserts, nobody around for miles? Elation? Fear? Animals and things that go bump in the dark? When I see wilderness, I see solitude and freedom, adventure and challenge. I see a place to test myself against myself, and hopefully come out stronger. Wilderness is a place where I recharge, where I go to get away from life and people and stress. It is a place that deserves to be cherished and protected, a place that brings different things to different people, but all the same "plans to protect air and water, wilderness and wildlife, are in fact plans to protect man." - Stewart Udall, the man who helped draft the Wilderness Act in 1964.

Wilderness is a place "where man himself is a visitor who does not remain."

For those of you who celebrate, Merry Christmas! For those of you who don't Happy Tuesday!

2018 Wrap-Up: Um, It Was A Year

Flagging. I'm not even sure what to say about this year. What a whirlwind! I would travel a bunch, then go several months without hitting the road, only to have several trips lined up back to back. Half the trips I began the year planning ended up falling through, but others popped up unexpectedly and I learned to roll with it. This was definitely a year for learning new things, not only about myself and my limits but about my furry and non-furry companions as well. This was the year I got lost, but conquered mountains. This was the year I discovered the puppy I raised to be a travel companion hates travelling, but then successfully raised an adventure kitten.  This was the year I decided I don't like camping in forests nearly as much as I enjoy camping in deserts. This was the year where sometimes, I just wanted to be home. I had some health issues during the later part of the year that sucked the energy out of me and made me wish for nothing other than a place to lay my head for hours on end, and I think my travelling reflected that. Yeah, it was definitely a year, and I'm honestly glad it's over. Take a peek at the summaries of each of my adventures below, and like the past few years check out my stats at the end of the post:

Between being sick with the flu and moving into our new house (!!!) I missed my annual birthday trip this year. Instead, I snuck away in February for a couple days and drove around Texas to check out seven state parks, including Monahans Sandhills pictured above. Ghost and Callie tagged along too!

I had a very unexpected adventure in March, which included a trip up to Nebraska and down to extreme western Texas. This trip included some one-on-one Father/Daughter time as we explored western Nebraska's national monuments during late winter.

This year also included my first Ren Fest! Unfortunatley I didn't dress up, but Jared did buy me a cloak for my very own. I looked like a Jedi. Or an elf. I'd rather stick with Jedi, personally. Anyway, my ren fest experience was awesome and I can't wait to go to another one!

I also ran up to Nebraska to go to one of my oldest childhood friends' baby shower! It was a short and sweet trip and I was so happy to be part of her day. (Side note: I got to meet little Emily later in the summer on one of my stops by home! She was so precious!)

I had wavered back and forth on where to go during a week off at the end of May, trying to decide between the Gila Wilderness in New Mexico, or to make a trip of driving around the New England states. I kinda wish I'd chosen New England, because this was the trip I ended up lost in the desert. I got out of it, obviously, but I won't deny that it left me quite shaken for a while. And now I can't look at my legs without seeing the scars. I came out of it stronger once I'd spent several days laying on the couch licking my wounds (read: pride) and it wasn't long before I'd decided the Gila and I have unfinished business that I'll be looking to make right in the future.

Jared and I had a weekend run-away to Dallas, just the two of us, to celebrate our anniversary a little early in the middle of June. We did what we do best: visited zoos and aquariums, got up to shenanigans, and ordered lots of room service.

My sister and I embarked on a looooong adventure in July, visiting everywhere from Yellowstone in Wyoming to Arches in Utah. We really went without much of a plan, and in the end that turned out better for us. We like going with the flow, and not being sure where we'll end up, though we're both Type A enough that we had a general idea of what we wanted to see. Mountains to desert, with a few hot springs and geysers thrown in? Bring it!

I also went to my first ever convention this year, and of course it was a Harry Potter convention in Dallas! I had a great time at LeakyCon, and they're coming back to Dallas next year. I can't wait!

Y'all have heard me brag about this enough, so I'll keep it short: I met Torrey in Colorado for our annual August Pikes Peak visit, and while we were at it we hiked six 14,000ft mountains in five days. With my cat. #LikeABoss

I managed to find a weekend to go leaf-peeping this autumn, and was able to bring my kitten as well as my old Marley man. I have to say, a weekend in the forest (despite a midnight thunderstorm and a leaky tent) did wonders for my happiness.

Torrey and I accomplished more this year than just hiking a few mountains: we also finished the Buffalo River Trail, a 37 mile trail that parallels the Buffalo National River in the Ozarks of northern Arkansas. It was cold, it was warm, it was dry, it was wet, and it was awesome.

Jared and I met my family down in San Antonio for an early family Christmas celebration on the River Walk during the weekend after Thanksgiving. The temperatures were in the upper 70's, the Walk was decked out for Christmas, and we had our fair share of over-indulging. Like ya do.

I just wrapped up a short surprise visit to Nebraska last week to be there for my little sis, who graduated with her Masters Degree this winter. I have to say, I am one proud big sister!

I had the fewest adventures this year since I started travelling back in 2014, but this year was all about quality. I had three week-long trips, and ten more smaller ones throughout the year, and I'm pretty sure I set a record for the least amout of money spent on my trips. Number of hours and amount of miles travelled was about average, and the number of states visited seems to be holding pretty steady. Check it out:

Adventures: 13
Hours: 1053.1
Miles Driven: 20,744
Total Cost: $3085.98
States Visited: 12
Hiked: 105.69 miles
State Parks Visited: 11
National Parks Visited: 5
National Monuments Visited: 6
National Forests Visited: 6
Wilderness Areas Visited: 1
National Rivers Visited: 1
Number of Nights Tent Camping Near the Car: 9
Number of Nights Sleeping IN the Car: 10
Number of Nights Backpacking: 7
Number of Nights in a Hotel: 8
Number of Nights in a House: 10
Number of Nights Driving: 1
Animal Companions: 28
Human Companions: 27

Overall 2018 was a good year, and I've already got my sister's and Torrey's summer trips planned out for 2019. I'll do everything in my power to get Hoodoo out and hiking with me as well, likely on several smaller trips throughout the year. I've got a big trip coming up this winter, where a certain desert is calling my name. Obviously I'm already looking forward to 2019. Bring it on!

A Snapshot and The Scoop: The Night We Confirmed I'm A Wimp

It looks fairly nondescript, doesn't it? An old farmstead, a historical site, at Buffalo National River in northern Arkansas, right along the Buffalo River Trail that Torrey and I were busy finishing up this year. We passed by Erbie Historical Site in the afternoon, after something like fifteen miles of hiking with our packs on. We still stopped to check out the homestead, peeking into the old house, the barn, the chicken shed, and other smaller buildings on the property. It was cool, neat, a bit of history. Then we moved on, eager to make it to our car and the luxury of camping for the night. Until, that is, we needed one last run to the bathroom before hitting the sack. We were cold and lazy, and yeah ok I really didn't want to walk from our campsite all the way to the other side of the campground in the pitch black night where not even the stars were shining. So I convinced Torrey to drive us there. And boy did I regret it, because no sooner had we finished up at the outhouse than Torrey decided it would be fun to go for a late night drive along a forest service road. To check out that old farmstead. Did I mention it was so dark that there weren't even stars out? So me being me and hating being scared, I did the only practical thing I could aside from voicing my vehement disapproval (which fell on deaf ears anyway): I covered my eyes. I straight up refused to look, gloved fingers pressing into my watering eyes so hard I was seeing bursts of white light erupt behind my eyelids. The bumpy, twisting forest road felt like a lot further than the mile or whatever it actually is, and at the end of it when Torrey turned her headlights on bright to illuminate the farmstead in all its midnight glory, I still refused to look. Her commentary didn't help, saying things like "Oooh this is creepy. Why did we do this? This is terrifying! Why did I think this would be a good idea?" And I refused to even peek, despite her goading. And when she had sufficiently freaked herself out enough to turn around and leave, Torrey missed the turn for our campground, essentially forcing me to open my eyes long enough to help her get us back to our site. My gloves damp and tears still leaking down my face (because apparently that's my reaction to fear, and what a wonderful reaction it is, eyes welling up like a freaking garden hose), I had to pay attention to this stupid forest service road illuminated only as far as the headlights could reach past every twist and turn, convinced we were going to round a corner and find the ghost of the farmstead's last owner in our path. Did I mention I hate being scared? I make up too many stories in my head for things like this to make me comfortable. Once we finally returned to the safety of our campsite we got into our bags, Torrey mumbling about how it had been a bad idea to go and how she wouldn't be able to sleep. I may or may not have been a little smug when I told her I wouldn't have a problem sleeping. I didn't look, after all.

A Snapshot and The Scoop: Fairy Land

Apparently I have an overly active imagination. The last Snapshot I wrote I described zombies popping out of the ground and chasing Torrey and I through the backwoods of Arkansas all because I stepped on a rock that moved, and now I'm about to spout off about how much the Buffalo River Trail made me think of what I envision the mystical land of fairies to look like. The little spring pictured above, bubbling from between the mossy shelves of Ozark rocks, fed a little forest pool that Torrey and I circumvented while hiking the final leg of the BRT this autumn. Maybe we'd been on the trail too long and maybe I had nothing better to do than make up stories in my head instead of thinking about how much my feet hurt, but I couldn't help but think the forest we passed through would be the perfect setting for a story about fairies, practically seeing the woodland creatures playing around the little spring in real life. With the last vestiges of autumn drifting to the forest floor around us and winter settling in, a cool drizzle soaking our outer clothes but not enough to chill us, the setting for a fantasy story seemed ripe for the taking. And maybe I just wanted to be out of my head for a bit, and making up silly little things helped. Who knows. Do you believe in fairies?

Fifth Annual Father-Daughter Trip

Relaxed. Starting back in 2014, along with my desire to travel, my dad and I began taking Father-Daughter trips once a year. Sometimes we were accompanied by my sister and others, but at the core it was for us. Dad has a goal of visiting each of the five hundred plus historical markers in the state of Nebraska scattered throughout ninety-three counties, and every time we get a chance we hit the road on our quest to see them all. I thought maybe moving to Texas might mean the end of our travels, but I've been pleasantly surprised to find that's not the case. This past spring (ok, late winter in Nebraska) Dad and I took to the bluff country in extreme western Nebraska, searching for historical markers among the state's national monuments dedicated to the Great Western Trails.

Bluff country butts up agains the sandhills, and for anyone who thinks Nebraska is flat you're wrong. Well, partially wrong. Yes, Nebraska is flat if you keep to the I-80 corridor, but if you get off the interstate and head north you'll find a landscape of rolling prairie and sandstone bluffs that rise out of the grasses like the backs of giant sea creatures. The sandhills are my favorite place to visit in Nebraska, and I was more than happy to go with Dad as we scoured them for historical markers. Our quest brought us down some pretty obscure Nebraskan roads to some pretty obscure Nebraskan Monuments, but hey, "Honestly, it's not for everyone."

What's not for everyone? What about the fossil quarries laden with ice age bone and ash deposits at Agate Fossil Beds National Monument? What about the Oregon and California Trails that pass through the state's Scotts Bluff National Monument, rich with pioneering history? Don't get me wrong, I got out of Nebraska as soon as I had the chance because I always knew I would leave the state, but that doesn't mean I don't like to visit. And not just because my family is there. Nebraska boasts a neat assortment of state and historical parks, and a small handful of national monuments, that are well worth the effort of leaving the interstate to go explore. And that's exactly what Dad and I do every time we get a few days to run away to continue tracking down historical markers.

We might have cheated a little bit and drove up the 800 foot tall Scotts Bluff instead of hiking the trail to the top, but on a chilly winter/spring day, driving seemed like the more prudent option. The views of the prairie grasses and the ridge of bluffs receeding past the Wyoming border into the distance are something you wouldn't get if Nebraska really was flat, and I couldn't help but be a little awed at what lay around us. As the gateway to the more rugged mountain country in Wyoming, western Nebraska was a stop for many on the pioneer trails as they prepared for mountain conditions, and as such their trails, camps, and forts litter the area around the bluffs. The bluffs themselves were used as landmarks, breaking up the monotony of the plains.

One such landmark, a rather famous one if you were raised in Nebraska, is Chimney Rock. In my experince with my travels just about every state has a "Chimney Rock", but there is only one true rendition of this rock, and it resides in western Nebraksa. Dad's and my fifth Father-Daughter trip wouldn't have been complete without a stop at the state historical park protecting Chimney Rock, as well as no less than four historical markers near its location. Chimney Rock wasn't our last marker on our trip, but Dad and I began heading home after our visit to the park. I think we only have two or three areas of historical markers left to get, and then we'll have to find something else to do for our annual trips!

A Snapshot and The Scoop: That One Time I Noped Out

I take a lot of pride in travelling, hiking, and camping. Especially alone. However, in order for me to be able to continue enjoying myself there are a couple of ground rules I stick to that allow me to sleep soundly at night when I'm by myself in the backcountry of who-knows-where, and the number one rule is to avoid scary things. Mainly, this means I avoid scary movies like the plague. If someone turns on a scary movie, I leave the room, and if I can't leave the room I put in headphones or go to sleep. I definitely do not need the mental images of the main actors getting chased down by some creepy guy in a mask in the middle of a dark forest. Can you blame me? Another rule I have is to not go poking around creepy abandoned places, like an old farmstead or a random cemetery right off the side of the trail. Like the one in the picture above. Torrey and I came across this cemetery on our final day of hiking the Buffalo River Trail in northern Arkansas, shortly after we began the day's trek. Torrey likes historic sites like this, so I humored her by checking out the gravestones overgrown by the flora of the forest. That is, I went with her until I took a step and felt the ground shift under my feet. In all reality it is likely a grave cover had become overgrown with grass and hidden by the fallen leaves, and my weight shifted it just enough to make it wobble, but one thing led to another and then I was imagining zombies popping up out of the ground and chasing Torrey and I through the backwoods of Arkansas where we hadn't seen a single person on the trail since we'd began two days before and nobody would be around to witness our gruesome deaths. Yeah, I might have let my imagination and my minimal experience with scary movies get the better of me, but I was out of that cemetery so fast I'm pretty sure I left a puff of Natasha-shaped dust in my wake. I was doing that thing I do when I get scared where I tear up and giggle madly as I retreated to a distance that was by no means safe but at least gave me a headstart over Torrey if my nightmares came to life. At least her and I have been friends long enough for her to not hold it against me. It wasn't long before I convinced her I needed to move along for my sanity's sake, and we left the little cemetery behind. I may or may not have been keeping an ear out for the groans and rustling leaves that would signal we were being followed.

A Snapshot and The Scoop: A Bouquet of Mushrooms

I think I have a fungus problem. Seriously, I just love mushrooms so much! So many colors and shapes and they grow in every forest I've ever been in. This beautiful collection of fungi caught Torrey's and my attention while hiking the Buffalo River Trail in northern Arkansas a few weeks ago, and I couldn't get over how pretty it is! All credit to Torrey for naming it a bouquet, and doesn't that name just fit it? I mean, with the colored leaves and the whites and browns of mushroom, the dark tree stump, just all of it. Don't like mushrooms? I'll just take my obsession over here, don't judge me!

Another First: 2018 Scarborough Ren Fest

Spellbound. We're going to go ahead and go with the "better late than never" mentality here, or else we'll pretend that I'm not eight months late in writing about my first renaiassance festival, okay? For real though, the when I found out Jared's parents were coming to Texas to go to the Scarborough Ren Fest just south of Dallas, and had bought us tickets to meet them there as well, I couldn't have been more excited! I'd never been to a ren fest before, though I have several friends who have and they always came back with awesome pictures and merchandise. I mean, who wouldn't want to spend a day or two dressed up as someone else, along with a ton of other people also dressed up as someone else, all while eating, drinking, attending shows, and shopping? I had some idea of what to expect, including people dressed up in period costumes and some dressed up as mythical creatures, Olde Timey buildings and decor, and some jousting. I was not disappointed, but there was also so much more.

As it was my very first ren fest and I didn't have much time to prepare, I unfortunately did not go dressed up as anything other than a human icicle. It was freezing, given that it was mid-April in the south, and despite the multiple layers I was wearing, I couldn't stop shivering. We remedied my problem within the first hour by finding me my very own cloak, something I've wanted ever since I watched Lord of the Rings. And what better place to channel my inner Tolkien nerd than a ren fest? Aside from keep me deliciously warm, the cloak did an excellent job of hiding my street clothes and I felt more at ease surrounded by fair staff and guests, most of whom were dressed up somehow or another. Including Jared and his parents. Did you know Jared owns a kilt? Like, A real one, not one of the ones you buy off the rack for Halloween. Becase why wouldn't he? And my in-laws looked fantastic in their ensembles as well, with Renee's dress making me just a bit envious. Now I want something like it for the next time we go to a ren fest!

We wandered through the village buildings all weekend, pausing at any shop that caught our somewhat-divided attention, with Renee and I stopping at jewelry and scent stores and Jared and Chuck stopping at metal-working and weapons shops. We also couldn't help but to stop at the food stalls, where Renee and I shared a crepe called "The Princess" - a gigantic crepe smothered in strawberries, chocolate, and whipped cream. It was so good we got it twice. Of course, beer and wine flowed in every direction, and although I had begun our adventure with the impression that ren fests might be geared a little bit more towards kids I quickly adjusted that assumption as the day progressed. Sure, there were kids around, but more than anything the ren fest was a way for adults to relax and forget about the real world in favor of a magical one for a short while.

Quite a few of the shows we visited were definitely not for children. Aside from the bad language, the raunchy topics brought up had us all in tears of laughter, and likely (hopefully) would have gone over the heads of any kids who happened to be present. And guess what!! There was jousting!! I was stoked when we viewed the schedule and saw a jousting competition on our first morning there and all but ran over to watch. Was it the as-seen-on-TV knocking each other off of horses? No. But it was still gallopping towards each other to get rings on their giant poles, which was rather impressive regardless. I certainly couldn't have done it.

I'm still not entirely sure if we even made it all the way around the village by the time we left on the second day. The place was huge and I got turned around more than once, overwhelmed by the people and colors and activites around us. Of course, you all know I avoid crowds like the plague so going to a ren fest in the first place is a huge step for me; it was only a matter of time before I became a little smothered. I would probably still be wandering the place right now if I hadn't had Jared with me. We walked away with several treasures to call our own, including some spice cream, jewelry, and my cloak. I absolutely can't wait until next year, where I'm bound and determined to buy myself a costume! I'm thinking maybe a dark navy dress, and perhaps another cloak? I guess we'll see!

A Snapshot and The Scoop: Good Luck or Bad Luck - BEAR!

Another year, another week adventuring in Colorado with Torrey, and another BEAR!! This time around the bear in question was in an established campground, attempting to get into the dumpster. Torrey saw him first as he ran across the campground road in front of us (we were in the car, driving around to find a suitable campsite) and pointed him out to me. We stopped not to far from where he was trying to get into the site's bear box, which is pictured above. When he was unsuccessful he sniffed around the site, but when he got close to a tent I honked my car horn and he ran off. After we found the camp host and reported our sighting, showing him the videos and pictures we took, the campsite's occupant came to find us. The older lady only had her dog with her, and at the time of the bear's visit she was asleep in her tent - like, the same tent the bear had been sniffing around. She thanked us for scaring it off, and we chatted a bit more, with her debating whether or not to sleep in her car that night. We never found out if she slept in her car or not, but I can tell you one thing: Torrey and I sure did! We didn't even bother setting up the tent that night, prefering to stay in the safety of a hard-sided vehicle. We had no more sightings of the bear, and actually slept great while in our car. I doubt we would have slept as soundly if we'd been in our tent... That being said, I still think we're incredibly lucky to have seen a bear in the mountains for two years in a row!

A Snapshot and The Scoop: Government Ditch

If you ever get a chance to take a boat tour on Caddo Lake in East Texas, do it! I had the opportunity to go this summer, and it was fantastic! Our boat guide was incredibly knowledgeable, and took us on a route through the swampy lake that he clearly knew by heart. The "ditch" pictured above was cleared out by the government in order to make room for steam engines, which at that time were the primary mode of transporting goods, and involved tearing out the cypress trees and dredging the canal to make it deep enough to get a boat through. A lot of Caddo Lake is a mixture of shallow waters and sopping wet land that rises just a few inches above the waterline, surrounded by the world's largest cypress forest. At any given time the land could be submerged or truly dry, depending on the water levels of the lake. Caddo's history is rich, and I wouldn't do it justice to try to summarize here. From the Caddo Native Americans to the wild west pioneers, to the civil war soldiers and the Great Depression's Civilian Conservation Corp, and the World War that followed, Texas history permeates even the air you breathe. Do yourself a favor, and if you're in my neck of the woods take an hour or two and get out on the lake. Who knows, you may even see an alligator.

Grand Teton Part 2: Death Canyon

Demanding. Starting our second day in the backcountry with an argument was probably not the way to do things. Alisha and I had driven to the trailhead for our second night's camp at Death Canyon in Grand Teton National Park a little later in the morning than either of us really liked, and Alisha was trying to convince me to forgo camping that night in favor of not running into the thunderstorms that were sure to build. I was obstinate, even to the point of telling her I would go alone and she could camp wherever she liked, as long as she was back to pick me up the next morning. We were in the Tetons, damn it, and it rains in the mountains. We'd been wet before, we survived, it would be ok to get a little wet this time too. I ended up winning, although not without hearing her grumble about it for a long while afterwards.

Unfortunatley, I began wishing I wasn't so stubborn about halfway up our hike to the camping area. The trail was not nice, one continuously strenuous stretch of exposed loose rock along a mountain side under a sun that beat down and forced us to stop in the shade at every chance. We passed other hikers, some of whom showed obvious signs of altitude sickness, and determinedly forged ahead all while silently (on my part) wishing we were done. It wasn't until we turned onto the camping spur that the clouds began to build, and with the first rumbles of thunder and drops of rain came my sister's glare. We hurried along, trying our best to make noise so we'd give any bears nearby a warning that we were there so as not to surprise any on the trail. Then it began to rain, though we were under enough tree cover that the light rain only gently dripped down on us. Until it rained harder. And harder. And began to hail. At that point I'm pretty sure my sister was so mad at me she would have spit fire if she were physically capable of doing so, and I suggested dinner right there on the trail, sheltering under a thick bough of evergreen limbs, because what else could we do? We couldn't move in the hail, and didn't particularly want to move in the rain if we could avoid it, so hey, let's eat.

We made dinner right in the middle of a muddy trail, and I did my best to make the most out of the situation and not wish for the warm and dry interior of my car. We got pretty lucky and as the rain eased when we finished eating, and we made our way forward as quickly as we could, eager to get the tent up at the first suitable site. Once again, though, my stubbornness won out and we passed by a few sites that were either too exposed to the weather, or tucked so deep into the forest that we'd be eaten alive by mosquitoes the second we stopped. I really wanted to make it to the far end of the camp area where other hikers had promised good views, but the skies continued to threaten us with buckets of rain, so we picked a site on the edge of a small meadow where we would be protected by trees but open enough to help keep the bugs down. We set up quickly and all but dived into the tent when we felt more sprinkles falling from the sky, calling it a night way earlier than we normally would have in an attempt to forget about the hike.

I woke up to a whispered "do you hear that?" Now, anyone who's camped with me knows I sleep like a log and pretty much need to be directly spoken to or shaken awake if you want my attention. I was drifting in the dreamy state between slumber and wakefullness when I swore I heard a clock ticking. It took me a little bit too long to realize I was deep in the backcountry forests of the Tetons, and there were definitely no analog clocks ticking anywhere nearby. Alisha and I lay still, trying to figure out what the hell was going on, when I remembered with a jolt and a curse that we had been warned by another hiker of the porcupines that had an affinity for hiking gear in the area. I grabbed my headlamp and directed the beam out my side of the tent, only to watch one of my trekking poles get slowly dragged out of sight into the darkess. You know that scene in every monster movie where a person gets pulled out of sight to the sound of crunching bones by an unseen monster? Yeah, if I hadn't known it was a porcupine stealing my trekking pole I would have been terrified out of my mind. As it was, I ripped open my tent door and grabbed at my pole, unleashing a viscious stream of colorful and imaginative curses at the culprit. Pole rescued, Lisha and I tucked our sets deep under the tent and settled back down, giggling hysterically and feeling far better about the camping trip than we had all day. I was once again on the verge of dreaming bliss when I felt myself rocking gently, a snuffling noise that I couldn't pinpoint in my ear. I asked Alisha if she was moving, and she responded negative. It took me a second longer to realize my poles were slowly sliding out from under me, resulting in my body moving as it was repositioned. I bolted upright, ripped open my tent door for the second time in an hour, and snapped my headlamp on, finding myself facing a very confused porcupine who had my pole in its little paws and my wrist strap between its teeth. We stared at each other for an eternity, before it promptly dropped my pole, turned tail, and waddled away.

We pulled our trekking poles inside the tent after our second encounter, but the determined little bugger wouldn't take the hint. It kept us up for the better part of two hours - two hours - with its snuffling and scrapping and general inspection of our camp. I was worried it would start gnawing on my tent fabric, and kept telling Lisha to help me kick the sides of the tent, hoping to scare it off. Eventually it wandered off and didn't return, though in the morning an inspection of our site produced a number of quills stuck into my tent doors and scuffs in the dirt around us. We left the site in high spirits, giggling about the porcupine antics and happy to be heading down the mountain. A storm blowing in behind us hurried our progress until we were nearly jogging down the mountain, taking cover from the rain as best we could while still moving forward. When the rain let up and the clouds began to lift, morning in the Tetons was something to behold and I found myself grateful for insisting on making the hike in the first place, despite the weather. The rest of our hike was thankfully animal-encounter free, and we made good enough time to reach our car before noon. We were only a few days into our week-long adventure and it had already proven to be a jam-packed trip. I couldn't wait to see what else the week had in store for us.

A Snapshot and The Scoop: Bandelier

More dwelling ruins! This time around Alisha and I were wrapping up our Mountains to Desert adventures with a stop at Bandelier National Monument in New Mexico. Etched into volcanic cliffs are dozens of roughly rectangular rooms, fronted by even more adobe and stone ruins. The cliffs are made of stone called tuff, and is very soft and chalky, which apparently made it easy for the ancestors to carve their homes. You can even see the post holes picked into the rock, outlining each cubby! The cliffs are also prone to small natural caves which were also inhabited, and a few of them even had the soot stains from cooking fires along the ceilings. The dwellings line a canyon carved by the baby Rio Grande, which at that point is a permanent water source in the surrounding desert. Talk about a neat place to live!

A Snapshot and The Scoop: Catching the Sunrise

Being in the right place at the right time to capture this view of the sunrise over the La Sal Mountains and Buck Canyon in Canyonlands National Park was not intentional. Alisha and I had camped on BLM land on top of the mesa near the entrance to Canyonlands and were up well before dawn with the intention of watching a sunrise through Mesa Arch. A popular photography spot, we knew it would be crowded but we were in no way prepared for the people who were straight up sitting under the arch itself, making it impossible to get a photo of the sunrise and the arch without some idiot's head in the shot. We were there for all of ten minutes or so before we got frustrated enough with the blatant rudeness and gave up. Instead, we hurried up the road a little ways to the overlook for Buck Canyon and ran (literally) to the viewpoint. We were in time to watch the sky light up and guild the clouds with the first rays of the day's sun, and saw the desert below us color with life. We had the view all to ourselves, and I wouldn't have it any other way. Those people didn't know what they were missing.

Grand Teton Part 1: Cascade Canyon

Undaunted. How are you supposed to feel when you're finally hiking (and not just hiking, but backpacking) in a place you've dream about hiking ever since you first visited more than ten years previous? I wasn't entirely sure, but astounded awe seemed like a good place to start when my sister and I finally hit the trail on this year's visit to Grand Teton National Park in northwestern Wyoming. Like many places in the West, my sister and I had visited Grand Teton on one of our two-week long summer family vacations years ago, and we were determined to go back and see it anew with adult eyes. This time, our itinerary included a two night, three day backpacking loop through the rugged Tetons backcountry, and I can't tell you how much I was looking forward to it. As we checked in at the wilderness office, however, we were informed that avalanche risk along our intended route was high, and unless we had the proper equipment to deal with it we were advised to make alternate plans. After a brief discussion Lisha and I amended our hike, still planning camping two nights but making both nights out-and-back instead of a loop. Neither of us have the gear or experience to deal with much more than ankle-deep snow, and we didn't really want to test ourselves and end up needing a rescue. We're crazy, but not stupid.

It was with high spirits that we hit the trail, though it wasn't long before we were huffing and puffing with exertion and altitude. We slogged along slowly, but it wasn't a bad thing; the scenery of the Tetons is something that deserves to be appreciated at your own pace. We eventually made it the four or so miles up to South Fork Cascade Canyon and set up camp at the first unoccupied sight, settling down to nap the afternoon away. I know I drifted off, but have no idea how long I was out before voices woke me up and I found Alisha chatting with another hiker who was asking if they could set up somewhat close by. We had no problem with it (safety in numbers, and we were in a highly populated bear habitat) and ended up making friends with the couple. Ben and Beth live out east, and Ben turned out to be a teacher, so he and Lisha chatted away over dinner as we watched evening settle in around us while Beth and I held our own conversations. Not too long before sunset we bid each other goodnight.

Our wishes for an uneventful slumber were somewhat put out by a thunderstorm that echoed through our canyon in the early hours of the next morning, Lisha and I lying in bed watching the flashes of lightning illuminate the canvas above us as we waited for the rain. We were relieved when the storm moved up canyon without dumping on us, though we continued to hear thunder bouncing off the mountain sides as I slipped back into sleep. We were up before the sun that morning, climbing out of the tent when there was enough light to see and breaking down camp. We needed to make good time in order to reach the next camp that night, so we weren't in the mood to linger overlong. To our surprise Ben and Beth were up too, and we ended up leaving camp together after figuring it'd be safer to move through the dawn with a bigger group of people. You have no idea how happy I was to have them with us when Alisha spotted the first moose, a cow and her baby, next to the creek not too far off trail. It wasn't until a little while later, when I almost walked right into Alisha after she abruptly stopped with no warning, that I became incredibly grateful for the two of them. A cow moose had bedded down just off to the side of our trail, and there was absolutely no way we would be able to continue on trail past her. We approached slowly, tightly pressed together in an attempt to make us less of a target, but she stood up quickly and we dashed for cover behind a large boulder. We were there, trapped behind that boulder, for a good ten or fifteen minutes, with Ben and I keeping watch on either side of the boulder, trying to keep her in view. The moose didn't seem all too bothered by us unless we were in her path, and as long as we kept the boulder between us and her she left us alone to graze. The problem was, there was no cover between us and the trail and if we wanted to make it around her we were going to have to run for it. We waited until she moved down towards us, hopefully far enough that if she decided to charge us as we made for the trail we'd have a head start, before we made a break for it, crashing through the small meadow and through to the safety of trees, running full out down the trail until we put enough distance between our group and her.

Of course, when we stopped to pant for breath and congratulate ourselves on getting away without incident, I realized I'd dropped a water bottle and my tripod in our mad dash for safety. If it were just the bottle I would have left it for someone else to have, but that tripod was expensive and I wasn't about to give it up that easily. I eased back toward the meadow, Ben following behind to keep watch while Alisha and Beth waited down trail. I didn't see the moose, thankfully, and darted out from the cover of the forest to where we'd gotten back on trail. I found my stuff right on the edge of the trail, meaning I wouldn't have to go searching through the long grass and waste time, grabbed it, and ran back, looking over my shoulder convinced an angry moose was about to charge me. She didn't, and Ben and I returned to Alisha and Beth triumphant.

We were still exclaiming over our escape from the moose when Alisha once again brought us up short as she spotted another animal at a curve in the trail ahead of us. All four of us were keyed up, and it didn't take much to convince us that the huge humped brown back we saw belonged to a grizzly bear. That is, at least, until we saw the gigantic rack of antlers and realized that the huge humped brown back actually belonged to an enormous bull moose. Still nothing to lift your nose at, bull moose can be ferociously territorial, especially if there were females around, and we didn't exactly thrill to the idea of testing our luck a third time that morning. As we watched, another group of hikers passed by the bull with no incident, and by the time they reached us we were willing to give it a shot. He ended up being further off trail than it initially looked, but we still quickly and cautiously passed by while keeping wary eyes on his grazing rear. That he was facing away from us gave me enough courage to snap a few pictures of him as I had with the cow before we continued on our way. The rest of the hike passed uneventfully, and we said goodbye to Beth and Ben at the parking lot. There's nothing quite like making it through an eventful hike with strangers to bring you together, and this has become one of my favorite hikes of the past several years. Ben and Beth, thank you for being awesome and I hope you're doing well!