Waterfalls and Mountain Storms

Ardent. Megan and I had awoken before dawn and just traveled two hours south of Buena Vista, Colorado, only to have it start raining as we prepared for our hike. Our destination was only a short distance from the parking lot, up a rocky trail to Zapata Falls. The waterfall is relativley unknown, overshadowed by it's famous neighbor, Great Sand Dunes National Park. Megan and I thoroughly enjoyed the bumpy mountain road that twisted it's way up the side of mountain, and didn't mind the rain too much. We knew we'd be getting wet anyway, because in order to see the falls we would have to wade upstream a bit, and into a cleft in the rocks.

We took our time in the parking lot, waiting to see what would happen with the storm that was dumping buckets of rain over the dunes across the valley. It was headed right for us. Of course. We set off anyway, hoping to get to the falls and back to the safety of the car before it really started to storm. Not even halfway there, though, I happened to look up at the mountain framed right in front of us and saw a bolt of lightning hit the peak. I didn't even have time to think before the concussion stopped Megan and I in our tracks, and I know I crouched down for cover. I think I said "oh shit" out loud, and we both paused as we reassessed the wisdom of hiking in the mountains in a thunderstorm.

I guess I probably don't have to tell you that we decided to see the falls anyway. We reached the creek and stepped into the icy waters. Have you ever been in water that is so cold it burns? That's how cold this water was, flowing straight from snowmelt on top of the mountains. Megan and I made our agonizingly slow way across the creek, trying to stay out of the water as much as possible, yet always moving upstream toward a small opening in the rock face in front of us.

After what seemed like a long time, we were to the cleft in cliffs where we would have to enter to get to Zapata Falls. Megan and I stopped at the entrance and peaked around the corner. Neither of us wanted to go into deeper waters, and with the storm, we really didn't want to be caught in rising water. We agreed to be quick but careful, go until we could see the waterfall, stay long enough for pictures, then head out. We went one at a time, myself first. I stepped through the burning cold waters, no higher than mid-calf, and rounded the corner. I inched my way through dark rocks, lit only by the stormy sky above. In no time, I came to a semi-dry patch of rocks, and stood in the chilly spray of Zapata Falls.

It really was awesome to see, and I'm sure that the creek would be refreshing on a hot summer day. The falls poured over the cliffs, carving them back bit by bit with each drop of rushing water. It was dark in the small canyon, reminding me of the slot canyons in the desert. Looking up, I realized that I was getting wet not just from the spray of the falls, but also the rain pouring down from the sky. I moved into the shelter of an overhang and stood back as Megan took her turn at the foot of the falls. We finished up quickly, and picked our way downstream and back onto dry land. All I could think -about was warming my feet up- I could barely feel them as they slid around in my water shoes. The trip back to the car was quick, and the best feeling in the world was turning the heat up and pointing it at our feet! Our next stop: Great Sands!

A Snapshot and the Scoop: Friends in High Places

Megan and I were just beginning our June 2015 Colorado adventure, during which we would white-water raft, explore freezing waterfalls and climb baking sand dunes. Her and I decided to explore a little on our first afternoon after meeting up in Buena Vista, and headed up Mount Princeton, along a winding mountain road that led us to a small ghost town called St. Elmo. We wandered around the old buildings, some of which were open to the public, some had been turned into cabins for hunters, and many more were boarded up. Once we'd seen everything we wanted to see, we picked up $0.50 bags of seeds and headed to a woodpile that was crawling with people, and a bunch of adorable little chipmunks! Now, normally I don't condone feeding wildlife, but these little guys were so conditioned that they were essentially domestic. They would just hop right up on you, and take seeds right from your hands! Megan and I spent at least 30 minutes there, squealing over how cute the little rodents were. We only reluctantly left when we ran out of seeds, although I was tempted to buy more bags and stay there for a while longer!

Leave me a comment below and tell me about a time that you took a little side trip that was this much fun!

A Weekend In Dallas

Relaxed. Jared and I hardly ever get "us-time," usually because I'm always on an adventure, or we're both working. Sure, we see each other at work and at home, but the most we have energy for is maybe cooking dinner, watching a show or surfing the web, then bed. The last weekend of August, though, we decided to get away and spend some time together. Wanna guess what we did? Went to see more animals! Once an animal person, alway an animal person.

We checked into our hotel on Friday evening, and started our Saturday morning off at the Dallas World Aquarium, where we wandered along a path lined with plants, countless birds, and a few monkeys. We took our time as we meandered through the crowds of people, working our way along the exhibits until we went down a set of stairs to the aquarium proper. The first thing we saw? A giant window showcasing a pool of water and it's typical inhabitants. We saw a turtles and huge fish, and supposedly there was a manatee as well.

We kept moving through the exhibits, determined to see every single animal in the building. Being Big Cat people, we found this adorable young jaguar that I couldn't stop cooing over, and spent quite a bit of time watching him. Jared also found one of the keepers and we chatted with her for a while about the penguins and general animal care in the building. After walking around the building three times, we finally saw the animal that made Jared the most excited: we saw the manatee! She was adorable, using her flippers to hold her lettuce to her mouth as she munched away on her lunch.

We finally finished our circuits of the aquarium and braved the Dallas traffic to make our way to our next destination: the Dallas Zoo! And can you guess what the first exhibit was? Dinosaurs. Seriously, moving, noise-making robotic dinosaurs. We spent a lot of time in that area, and I'm pretty sure Jared took more pictures of the dinosaurs than actual living animals. I dragged Jared to see more recent relatives of the dinosaurs in the swamp exhibit (Jared hates alligators) and we did a quick circuit of the reptile house before we headed to the outdoor exhibits. Next up: Africa!

The Dallas Zoo is a medium-size zoo, and it's African section is pretty sweet. They've got elephants, zebras, giraffes, lions, and cheetahs, and their exhibit layout was as natural as it could be. There was even an option to feed the giraffes, though neither of us wanted to spend money on it.  We managed to walk through the whole zoo in a few hours, and finished with time to spare before closing- even including the time we spent in the gift shop!

Tired from our day of walking, we headed straight to the hotel bar when we got back, and decided to take a swim in the warm end-of-summer evening. We retired to our room, put on a couple movies, ordered room service and settled in to enjoy each other's company. It really was a fantastic weekend, and reminded me to take some time for the both of us to just be together. I'm definitely guilty of getting so caught up in my adventuring that I don't make time for Jared, especially on weekends. I needed the reminder that it's ok to stay close to home, and that I can have just as much fun here as I do when I'm out there.

A Snapshot and The Scoop: Finding Places To Love In Texas

I've made it no secret that I love Colorado and Utah, but I'm also trying really hard to find places to love in my new home state of Texas. On my recent trip to the deserts of the American Southwest, I made a quick pit stop at Guadalupe Mountains National Park while traveling home. And you know what happened? I became incredibly curious about the desert mountains in this state, and decided that I really, really needed to spend a few days at the park and hike all 80ish miles of trails. I've been to the park once before with my family (years ago) but we didn't really get to experience the park then, and on my trip in July I didn't have enough time to explore the park like I wanted to. Stopping in Guadalupe was more of an afterthought, and I wish now that I had taken the time and devoted a couple of days to the park instead of the hour that I had. Next time, I'll hike the park's trails and maybe even camp in the back country. There are very few roads in the park, and in order to really see anything you need to hoof it. I guess I know where one of my future adventures awaits!

Leave me a comment below and tell me about a place you wish you had explored more.

Darkness, Bats, and A Whole Lot of People: A Self-guided Tour of Carlsbad Caverns

Free! Do you have any idea how excited I was to explore Carlsbad Caverns National Park? Not only is Carlsbad an active cave, and one that has a giant roost of bats living in it, but you can actually explore this cave on your own!!! One of the few caves that I've ever been to that actually doesn't require a guide to explore, Carlsbad has two entrances that allow you to choose a hike depending on your experience level. You can go down to the cave via elevators located in the visitor's center, dropping you right into the center of the developed cave and leading to two shorter hikes, or for those who want to be in a cave but not walk, you can hang out at the underground consession stand and watch the throng of people passing by. Your other option to visit the cave is entering via the natural entrance, a giant hole on top of the mesa high above the surrounding plains. The natural entrance is paved and descends swiftly via tight switchbacks into the twilight zone of the cave where enough natural light still penetrates to allow moss and lichen to grow and the occasional bird or mammal to live. Further on, you round a corner and the sunlight is gone. Instead, dim yellow lights illuminate your path and some of the more interesting formations of the cave.

Walking at your own pace, you can pass others and leave them behind if they're moving slower than you. Many people who attempt the natural entrance turn around before long; they're either afraid of heights or afraid of the dark, or perhaps both. It isn't an easy hike, with steep downhill paths dimly lit and slick with dripping water, but it is more than worth the effort if you can get over the natural human fear of darkness. Fascinating, fantastic formations in every hue loom out of the gloom, waiting to be noticed. If you go too fast, you miss it. If you're worried about your footing or your hand holds, you miss it. If you relax and look around, you see more than you thought possible. Even in the dry desert environment above ground, water drips from the ceiling and the walls, creating and growing those famous cave formations everyone knows. White gypsum is common throughout the cave, catching the occasional flashlight and sparkling in response. Reds, greens and tans can be seen, iron and copper coloring the minerals over thousands of years. Signs of people are everywhere, not including the others sharing the dim path with you. Stalactites broken off a hundred years ago still look like they were ripped from the ceiling yesterday. Columns show signs of graffiti, despite the efforts of park rangers and volunteers. Trash litters the most popular trails, gum wrappers and sucker sticks and the occasional plastic water bottle, accidentally dropped from a pocket or purposefully tossed aside. Sometimes there are sad prices to pay for popularity and ease of access.

My journey, of course, started at the natural entrance. Hiking quickly, I passed several families trying to persuade their young children to follow them down into the darkness. Every time I passed somebody complaining that it was too dark or too wet or too high up, I wanted to stop and say "well, duh." I mean, it's a cave, what did you expect? But I didn't, passing them quietly and putting as much distance between them and myself as possible. Still traveling deeper into the earth, I soon reached the consession area and the "Big Room" of the caverns. Ringed by a paved path, the Big Room is the most easily accessed part of the cave, and accordingly the most busy. I would have kicked myself if I had skipped exploring it, but I have to confess that I moved faster than I should have. I still took tons of pictures though!

After completing my circuit around the Big Room, I briefly contemplated waiting for an hour in a line of people to take the elevator back to the surface. After a short rest and some orange juice from the consession stand, I decided to hoof it back out the way I came in. This time, I traveled up almost the whole way, breathing quickly but not puffing like the others who decided to hike back out too. Leaving them behind, I powerwalked my way past thinning crowds of people, until only occasionally I would pass someone walking in the opposite direction. They closed the natural entrance shortly after I started my hike out, as it was getting close to evening and the bat flight. I was one of the last people out of the natural entrance, and I did it in half the time it took me to hike into the cave. There's no slowing me down when I'm on a mission!

Once on the surface, I checked out the giftshop and bookstore in the visitor's center, then headed off on my own to find a quiet place in the shade to sit down and relax. I wanted to see the bat flight, where the bat colony rises out of the cave every evening to start their nightly foraging, so I wandered back toward the natural entrance and the amphitheatre that circles it halfway. Sitting alone in the shade, I pulled one of the few luxury items I carry with me, and started to read. Eventually, slowly, the seats around me began to fill as what felt like everybody who had been inside the cave that day came back to watch the bats. More than one thousand people filed into the seats, sitting on all available surfaces and waiting expectantly for the ranger who was going to be talking to us, and of course, the bats themselves. The ranger started her bat talk, and after about half an hour a sudden hush fell on all 1000+ people as the first bats were sighted, circling up and out of the cave. Thousands of bats slowly issued from the cave in a spiral, gaining speed and altitude as the the sun settled below the horizon. I sat there, silently enthralled, until it was impossible to see the little bats against the darkening sky. I left slowly, driving the winding road back down the mesa toward the rear of the exodus of people from the park, thinking about the next time I can get into a cave. Exploring Carlsbad on my own was awesome, and I appreciate the park service for allowing self-guided tours of the cave. Next time I do go to a cave, I'm taking a spleunking tour into the most remote part of the cave that can be reached. And if I can find any more bat flights, you can count me in!

A Snapshot and The Scoop: Homemade Pies and a Desert Oasis

Last September Cat and I spent a week in the deserts of Utah, and took a day trip from our base camp in Moab to visit Capitol Reef National Park. The lesser known of the five major national parks in southern Utah, Capitol Reef has amazing views and incredible hikes and drives but with way less people than places like Arches or Zion National Parks. Cat and I hiked to several small slot canyons within the park, then chose to relax among the peach and apple orchards of the historic Mormon settlement of Fruita along the banks of the Fremont River. This settlement is now run by the National Park, and offers a shady respite from the desert sun. Green grass, lots of fruit trees and abundant water bring what few people who visit the park all together, and usually attract a herd of mule deer, much to everyone's delight. Look closely at the picture above and you can see a deer's ears on the other side of the wooden fence, resting in the shade of a peach tree. The Gifford House in the valley sells park related items and doubles as a museum for the town of Fruita; they also make and sell amazing mini pies including apple, peach, cherry and rhubarb. Oh, and their wildberry ice cream cures every hiking-related ailment, ever. Of course, Cat and I settled down at a shaded picnic table on the lawn of the Gifford House and enjoyed pies and ice cream, fueling back up for another hot hike in the desert.

Leave me a comment and let me know if you thought desert oasises were just fantasies, or if you've ever been to one as awesome as this!

Family Hikes and Trailless Deserts: The Fiery Furnace of Arches National Park

Protective. Whenever I go hiking with people who don't have a lot of experience, or otherwise might not be up to the task, I tend to get very protective of them, constantly asking if they're ok, if they're drinking water, if we need to rest, ect. This July my family and I went hiking in the Fiery Furnace section of Arches National Park in Utah and I found myself being very protective of my parents, especially my mom. We started early enough in the morning but it was still hot in the sun, and I was afraid they didn't bring enough water. I carried five liters of water on me, for a short dayhike that I knew we could finish in a few hours...What can I say, I was concerned! I know my parents have hiking experience; they're the ones who taught me to that hiking is awesome in the first place! But it's been a while since either of them has hiked over rough terrain, and I'm not sure when the last time they hiked over three miles was. Plus, my mom has a serious fear of heights. Like, more than a two foot drop and she has concerns over it.

The Fiery Furnace is a concentration of thin sandstone fins running parallel to each other, with the cracks between each fin (known as "joints") anywhere from several yards across to only a few feet wide. Oh, and there are no marked trails. After watching a safety video that explains a person should only ever walk on solid sandstone or in dry washes, which any desert hiker should know, the rangers at Arches sell you a permit for hiking alone in the Furnace, and tell you to be careful. On the day your permit is effective, you're set loose in the sandstone maze for as long as you like, or as long as it takes you to get lost and unlost again. It is an incredible place, kept as pristine as any backcountry area because they only allow a few people per day into the Furnace. You might run into other hikers, but if you do, you're likely not headed in the same direction and after a few turns, you never even hear each other again. Did I mention there are no marked trails? You can sign up for a ranger-guided trail with someone who knows the Furnace very well and will take you to places you probably won't find on your own, but doing that means you're in a group with fifteen other people, and you go at the group pace. You already know we chose to go it on our own.

That being said, it wasn't an easy hike. It started off with seeing a giant scorpion, the first time I've ever seen a live scorpion in the wild, and let me tell you right now that seeing it didn't exactly make my mom happy about being on the trail. After we got over oggling it, my sister led us to the best of her knowledge on sort of the reverse of the ranger-guided hike, taking us to hidden arches and to sandstone fins and joints that had us balancing over a drop-off and squeezing our hands and feet against the opposite wall to make it through. If I'd been alone, I would have thought it was absolutely amazing. With my parents, however, I was always watching them, looking for the easiest way to whatever destination my sister waited at. Lisha would just go on ahead, and I felt like she never stopped to think about what Dad, and especially Mom, could do, or whether Mom would have problems with the drop-offs and ledges that we crossed. My brother and I held Mom's hands on more than one occasion while we kept up a stream of encouragment as we navigated steep stone stairs chisled into a sandstone fin or walked along the edge of a cliff that dropped into a small box canyon with no way out. Every time she said she couldn't do it, that she was done and wanted to go back, we told her she could do it, to look at what she'd already done, and that we'd be there right next to her as she did tried it and succeeded.

Many times, more often than I would have if I'd been alone, we stopped in the shade for a rest and water. And you know what? That's fine. A hiking party is only as good as the least experienced, and if that means slowing down and resting a lot then so be it. Better to take it easy than to push too hard or too fast and end up with someone hurt. A hike is no fun if nobody is enjoying it.

Four miles in the gorgeous Fiery Furnace took us right around four or so hours to accomplish, especially since we hiked the last part with the sun right above us, chasing all of the cooling shade into only the most secluded parts of the Furnace. We were all hot, tired and cranky by the time we climbed up a wash and out of the fins, and eventually Alisha and Austin left Mom, Dad and I behind as they chose to climb a steeper part and we hiked up the path of least resistance. Meeting back up at the top, Mom made it clear that this was likely the last hike she'll ever go on. That makes me a little sad, but I understand. She wasn't prepared for the heat and the moderately strenuous hiking that we did, including climbing and jumping over deep cracks in the sandstone. She also has her fear of heights, which has only intensified with every year.  And yet, I'm cautiously hopefull that I can convince her to go on a short hike with me someday, if I swear to her that it will be extremely short and very easy. And you'd better believe that I'll be just as protective of her on that trip as well.

A Snapshot and The Scoop: Not My Usual Hiking Style, Urban-Exploring the San Antonio River Walk

My recent weekend trip to San Antonio to visit Julia and Mark wouldn't have been complete without a visit to the River Walk. I don't normally do the whole urban-exploring thing, much preferring to keep to trails of the unpaved variety, but I couldn't resist experiencing the River Walk as an adult. I have visited previously, several years ago while I was a teenager with my family, but it's different somehow, going on your own. Julia and I had attempted to visit the area on that Saturday night, but hadn't realized it was Fiesta, and after nearly an hour of trying to find a parking spot we gave up and headed back toward her place in search of a quieter atmosphere. Sunday morning at 10am was a perfect time to try again, with most people sleeping off the partying from the night before. Julia, Mark and I wandered along both sides of the river, exploring the shops, visiting the Fiesta vendors who were setting up for the day's festivities, and finding a steakhouse with a balcony overlooking the river and sidewalks to eat lunch at. It was so nice to be back along the coolness of the river, and this time I was old enough to enjoy an adult beverage with my lunch!

Leave me a comment below and tell me if you've ever had the pleasure of visiting the River Walk in San Antonio.