Hypnotized By Buckskin

A 28-kilometre jaunt through the world’s longest slot canyon was almost too much beauty to bear.

There is so much shadow and light playing between the canyon walls, colours of red and orange and yellow that would make you believe you’re tripping.

But there is so much more.

There are petroglyphs of bighorn sheep.

And bits of dead animals scattered on the canyon floor, from birds of prey perching high up on the canyon walls and dropping their leftovers – jackrabbit legs, cottontail rabbit tails, the feathers of songbirds, perhaps even the wings of other raptors.

The silence inside was also delicious. Even a soft whisper echoed loud so for much of the day we hiked in silence, relishing it. That silence is missing in our everyday lives. And we need that silence to hear our inner voice.

The hoof prints and poo of a wayward cow deep in the belly of the slot canyon had us a bit perplexed. Was it lost or simply seeking out a water hole? The tracks made me uneasy. I know what to do when I meet a grizzly on the tundra but what do you do when you meet a cow in a canyon barely a metre wide?

Perhaps most remarkably, beyond the Wire Pass and Buckskin confluence, we were the only humans in the belly of Buckskin, despite its beauty and well-known status.

The Place I Left My Heart: The Gila Wilderness

I fell instantly in love with the Gila Wilderness, the first designated Wilderness Area in the US on my very first hike. And every day of the weeks we spent here, I fell harder and more completely in love with this place.

It is a wild beauty, the Gila.

Sitting in the woods watching a pair of red-naped sapsuckers tapping away on a juniper tree, catching glimpses of elk and mule deer and black bear (and the occasional errant cow) is all I need for heart filled with happiness. Leaned against an alligator juniper with a mug full of wine listening to nuthatches and wrens or delighting in the crunching noise of fallen leaves beneath my feet makes me smile. Canyon wrens and white-breasted nuthatches sing from the pines, Javalinas roam the hillsides, coyotes yip by moonlight. Knowing that the Mexican wolf roams these woods fills my soul with awe.

This is the stuff of dreams for this girl.

On our final day in the Gila Wilderness, John was feeling unwell and so I set off on a 18-kilometre hike along an undulating mountain ridge.

To John’s surprise I returned to camp many hours early. He asked why.

“Because I was nearly gored by a javalina boar.”

John’s response to this news? “Did you get a picture?”

“No John,” I say incredulously. “I was busy deciding whether to climb the flimsy juniper tree I was hiding behind or jump five feet down a cliff into a canyon.”

My final day of hiking in the Gila Wilderness will forever by my most memorable day in New Mexico. I don’t think anyone forgets the day they were nearly gored by a javalina boar.

Any place where I am made small and insignificant, amid a great big grand and wild world, where wild things like tarantulas, javalinas and endangered Mexican wolves roam, where people come second is where I yearn to be.

“Like winds and sunsets, wild things were taken for granted until progress began to do away with them. Now, we face the question whether a still higher ‘standard of living’ is worth its cost in things natural, wild and free.” Aldo Leopold

Rarely Is It About The Summit

One of our first hikes in New Mexico was unexpected. We intended only to hike the four miles to an alpine lake but once we realized the trail continued to the summit of New Mexico’s tallest peak, well, there was no question whether we would continue. I had packed a ridiculous amount of food and water for our hike anyhow so we were, happily, unexpectedly, well prepared. We had parked at the ski valley and walked the steep road to the lake trailhead so it allowed up to hike, from the summit, the long way down the alpine ridge. What had begun as a eight-mile hike, by the end of the day was closer to 16 miles with almost 4000 feet in elevation gain to 13,000+feet.

Reaching the summit, however, was only a blip in a lovely, full of adventure day.

Picas ran around in the rocky hillside and we caught a weasel, already in his white winter plumage, hunting near a frozen alpine lake.

And on the rocky alpine slopes near the summit large flocks of grey-crowned rosy finches and ravens were hopping about, gobbling up moths. So many moths. The birds flitted all around us, so fixated on their prey.

And then there were all the bighorn sheep, females with young as well as a bachelor band. One one hillside we came across two full-curl rams standing together, starring down two other full-curl rams. We hoped we might see some rutting action, always a remarkable sight and sound. They stood starring at one another for quite some time then one male stepped forward. The opposing male advanced. We thought, “This is it. Shit’s gonna go down.”

The two groups approached. And then began licking each other’s muzzles. And after a few moments of that, they trotted off together down the ridge. And that was that.

We only inadvertently ended up on the summit. It wasn’t our destination. We only intended to go wandering for the day, to let whatever happen propel us forward or back. It was seeing the finches above us that had us climbing upwards. We hoped to spot some buntings or horned larks. That was when we spotted the first group of sheep.

From what locals told us after this hike is normally ridiculously busy in the summer. Apparently, us seeing only six other people the entire day is a rare lucky day. I suppose it helped that we went hiking during the first winter cold snap and the winds were fierce and cold. Extra puffy jackets, mittens and toques were definitely necessary.

As much as we love canyon country, mountains are where we are happiest, even if the altitude starts to kick our ass. The high altitude only means our frolicking about in glee is at a bit slower a pace.

Southern Utah In Late October

Oh, Utah, you always exceed expectations.

This was our four visit to Utah and still she amazes us.

Below is a brief recap of some of the wonder and joys and discomfort we experienced during the three weeks we traveled in southern Utah.

  • Sleeping in late when camping at temperatures falling as low as 9F/-15C
  • Squirmed our way through a few slot canyons and scrambled through many other canyons
  • Watched a couple of female desert bighorn sheep trot across the P-J forest
  • Skirted around a sun-bathing on slick rock rattlesnake
  • Spooked a jackrabbit in rabbitbrush
  • Hiked past a herd of female mule deer and startled one great big buck
  • Watched the sun rise and set almost every day
  • Was serenaded by canyon wrens and nuthatches
  • Found Ancestral Puebloan ruins, petroglyphs and pictographs
  • Read books by headlamp
  • Ate a lot of oatmeal breakfasts, Luna bars and trail mix for lunch and dinners of rice and beans
  • Wished upon a shooting star; marvelled at many more
  • Found free showers
  • Ate lots of cookies while sitting on rocks
  • Drank litres of tea
  • Found frozen waterfalls
  • And we met a dog that purrs. And no. That is not a typo. A dog that purrs!

All in all it’s been a good few weeks.

#thesimplelife

And We’re Off

It’s been a cold but wonderful week and delightful to be living again simply and near to the wilds.

It’s only been a week on the road but what a week. Our first night found us at the Liard River hot springs beneath a near full moon. Late night winter visits are my favourite time to soak here, to peer up into the trees and up at the stars without any more light for guidance but what the moon has to offer.

We scrambled up an unnamed canyon in Muncho Lake Provincial Park. Each time we are driving the Alaska Highway we choose one or two canyons to explore. without a topo map we scrambled up towards the alpine without knowing what we’ll find or how long we’ll be. we just go with loaded packs and hearts filled with adventure.

We sauntered into the alpine and into the mountains alongside caribou and stone sheep Stone Mountain Provincial Park as well, a place I never tire of hiking in.

Along the way south, to stretch our legs, to refuel we were woofed at by a grizzly bear and discovered the most delicious cinnamon buns in Fort Nelson.

This is how we prefer to spend our time, outside.

Next up, further south.

Create a website or blog at WordPress.com

Up ↑