A Snapshot and The Scoop: Wrong Side of the Barrier

You know that sinking feeling in your stomach when you realize things are just not going your way? Yeah, that's how I felt when I realized I was on the wrong side of this road block when trying to leave Chiricahua National Monument as I fled a brewing blizzard in the higher elevations of the park. Fleeing snow storms seemed to be the theme of this year's winter trip, despite the fact that I was in the desert for crying out loud, and aren't deserts supposed to get little to no precipitation??? I had been exploring the scenic monument road which took me to elevations above 9000 feet within the park, but I didn't even get out of my car at the top - I took one look at the inches of snow already on the ground and one glance up to the tops of the towering pine trees that I couldn't even see, and hightailed it (safely) back down. I passed a ranger going up while I was all but crawling down the slick mountain roads, and although I didn't know it at the time they were checking for guests and presumably kicking us out due to the storm. I was the only one stupid enough to be up there in the snow, though I was on my way down, so they followed some ways behind me. I thought for sure they'd locked this gate and I would have to wait for them before I could leave, but closer inspection showed me it wasn't chained and I could push it open to get through. I closed it behind me, of course, though I doubt anyone else would try to go up the mountain in a blizzard. Ah well, you live and you learn.

A Snapshot and The Scoop: A Spot of Light, An East Coast Epic Story

Imagine going into a cave with a small, flickering source of light that may or may not burn out and leave you to scramble in the dark, hoping to find the way out . . . or else. Prehistoric Indians did just that as they explored Mammoth Cave, located in central Kentucky in the foothills of the Appalachian Mountains. They used the cave for shelter and as a source for minerals, gathering reeds from the nearby river, bundling them together, and hoping to have light for an hour or so. Of course, they brought multiple torches with them, but still! I love visiting caves, but I can't imagine going through one without a guaranteed source of light. Props to them!

A Snapshot and The Scoop: Cholla Garden

Imagine my delight when, while driving the park road at Joshua Tree National Park as I was heading to lower (warmer) elevations, I rounded a curve in the road and was faced with a wide swath of cholla (choy-a) cacti! Labeled a Cholla Garden on the map, I'd noticed it when I first looked over the park information upon arrival, but I hadn't paid attention to where exactly this garden was, nor did I realize I was approaching it as I fled the higher elevation snow storms. I absolutely had to stop and wander the lined nature trail through the natural garden, full to bursting with cholla after cholla packed into a relatively large area. I definitely spent more time among the cacti here than I had spent outside my car in the entire rest of the park, but I was hardly complaining. I love cacti, and I'm always thrilled to see cacti gardens wherever I go. I even have a little cacti collection at home, started way back when my family and I first traveled to the desert southwest in 2001.

A Snapshot and The Scoop: Lakeside Beach, An East Coast Epic Story

The final Great Lake I visited last summer was Lake Ontario, and I'm honestly a little disappointed I didn't get to touch it. I made a point to walk a bit in both Lake Michigan and Lake Erie, but the little state park I stopped at in New York, Lakeside Beach State Park, was situated on some cliffs above the lake, and it was impractical (at least from where I was standing) to try to get down to touch the water. Instead, I meandered along the edge of the cliffs, accidentally interrupting a group playing disc golf (which I thought was rather brave - what if you threw the disc off the cliff by accident??) as I wandered. I could see where the lake deepened, where the waves turned from murky brown to the deepest of blues, and watched a few boaters take on the choppy, windy waters. Next time I'm in the area I'll be visiting the remaining two Great Lakes, Superior and Huron, and I'll be sure to step foot in Lake Ontario, just to say I did.

A Snapshot and The Scoop: Blown Away

Before this winter I had never experienced the sensation of almost being blown off my feet, but I certainly experienced it during my visit to Joshua Tree National Park. I really honestly thought I might be blown off the mountain top with the force of the winds whipped up by the winter storm lashing the park, to the point where I was bent almost double trying to make myself as small as possible and brace against the wind. I had driven to the park's highest elevation reachable by vehicle out of curiosity and the desire to at least see where the park roads took me, even though I wouldn't be hiking. The winds were blocked by a pile of boulders in the parking lot, but once I'd cleared the boulders I had to stop to regain my footing as I almost got blown over. Needless to say, I only stayed on the mountain top long enough to note that I really couldn't see shit due to the snow storm, snapped a few pictures anyway, then hurried back down to my car as I was pushed along by the gale howling at my back. I couldn't get back to the warmth and stillness of my car fast enough.

A Snapshot and The Scoop: Presque Isle, An East Coast Epic Story

My solo East Coast adventure last year took me to three of the five Great Lakes - Lake Michigan, Lake Erie, and Lake Ontario. My stop on Lake Erie was at Presque Isle State Park, a little spit of land featuring a gorgeous drive, bays and beaches, and an old lighthouse with its own courtyard. I arrived after closing time so was unable to tour the lighthouse, but greatly enjoyed my drive around the peninsula, making sure to get out a couple times to wet my toes in the lake and enjoy the breeze. I saw people boating, paddle boarding, kayaking, and swimming, which of course made me wish I'd brought my swimsuit along so I could go for a dip without ruining one of the few changes of clothes I had with me. There's always next time!

A Snapshot and The Scoop: Contact Zone

In the photo above we have the evidence of volcanic activity, earth upheaval, stream action, and erosion all in one place. The lighter rock was once magma buried deep within the earth. It pushed its way into the surrounding rock - the darker gneiss (pronounced nice) - where it solidified and crystallized into the granite we see today. Upheavals deep within the earth's crust forced the gneiss and granite to the surface, where a far wetter climate than what's present today cut the rock into a valley with a stream that carried sediment away. All of this occurring over millions of years, today showing us the contact zone where molten rock once met solid stone.

A Snapshot and The Scoop: Disconnect

There are very few things while travelling that make me as happy as I get when I see a Wilderness sign. Signs like this mean I'm leaving the real world behind, leaving cell service and internet and roads and cars and, for the most part, people, behind. I get to disconnect, get away, ignore reality for a little while and instead focus on myself, my hiking partner, and the world immediately around us. Because really, this IS reality, being in the moment and aware and self-reliant. If something happens out there, its up to you to figure it out, with no guarantee someone can come to help you. For some people, I dare say even most people, that can be a scary realization: that you're completely alone. But not to me. I thrive in Wilderness, I find my center, my mind calms and I don't have worries or anxieties over anything other than setting up camp before a storm pops up, and making sure I place the bear canister far enough away from the tent. Out there, I can get up with the sun and go to bed with it too, I can eat enough to fuel me through my day, I can sit and watch the world turn around me. I really can't wait to be out there again.