We're Back!

We're back from our trip to Hungary and the Czech Republic, so I should be returning to regular blog updates this week. Before our trip I spent alot of time cataloging slides from our last trip, so the final chapters of our Austria stories should start appearing shortly. Then I'll continue with the remainder of this summer's adventures, and finally start editing the 700+ photos from our latest trip. I've got plenty of good material for months to come, so keep reading.

East Coast Trip

A few weeks after visting the West Coast, we took a trip to the East Coast to visit Dorinna's sister in New Jersey.

Maria, Jessica, Jacqueline, Dorinna


After the twins went to sleep, we had a Blackjack night with the family. Bunny gets the payout on this hand, but before the night was over he lost everything but his stuffing. Poor Bunny.


Dorinna with the twins


Reading


The Whole Gang

West Coast Trip

At the beginning of August, I traveled out to California for a conference. Before going to work in San Diego, I visited my relatives in Laguna Hills.

Cousin Mandy and Uncle Bob at the Mission of San Juan Capistrano


Mariachi Band


Mandy and Bob


Only in California would you see such an unusual display of painted stuff- right in front of a hardware store.

Laguna Beach

That night we saw Grandpa's Grass. My cousin Bob is the drummer.

The Loch Ness Schwecherl Monster

It's a little difficult to explain...

Bunny in a Bucket

Bunny and Llama wanted to thank the mysterious donors who sent them this beautiful copper bowl. When we explained to them that the bowl was probably meant as a 7th anniversary gift for us, Bunny responded: "Pshaw- it fits me perfectly!"

Stillwater Canyon Trip, Day 4

We started off the day by cooking our “big breakfast”. This all seemed like a good idea back in Moab, but bacon and eggs ended up taking just too long to cook. And cleaning the eggs out of the pan was a tough way to start the day. So we got started late, but we were well-fueled at least.

Our flotilla didn’t stay together for long. Kevin and I spotted a side canyon that looked interesting. Paul, riding in the kayak, was able to motor upstream a short distance and join us, but Dave and Mark continued downstream. Soda Springs Canyon, mentioned by Edward Abbey in Down the River, had another inlet that we could paddle up. We were pleasantly surprised to find an egret at the end of the canyon. We beached the boats, grabbed our cameras and started to hike up this pleasant canyon.

It was fairly wide, but light clouds overhead kept it cool. We walked up a number of twists and turns, and then found a spot to climb up on top. The bands of crumbling Organ Pipe Shale made climbing pretty easy, and while I hoped to see the river, I got some dramatic views of Turk’s Head, a rock formation downstream.

Back at the boats, we paddled downstream, hoping to find our missing companions. We found their boat a short distance downstream, near where we wanted to land anyway. We set out again on a trail leading downstream. One scenic area we were awaiting later in the trip was the Dollhouse, a set of rock formations in the Maze district. Here we found a dollhouse of another kind, an alcove filled with tiny “ruins” and rock art. I’m sure it started with one person, but at this point there were dozens of dollhouse-sized ruins tucked into the rock walls. Pretty fun. The hike up through the Organ Pipe was more difficult this time, with one pretty dicey section

Once past that section, we arrived on a plateau with Turk’s Head ahead of us. We met up with Dave and Mark a few minutes either, and the 5 of us undertook a circumnavigation of Turk’s Head. It was a fun hike, but our ultimate destination, a set of rock art called the “boulderglyph” eluded us. There’s actually a lot of other things to see up on this plateau, including some ruins, so I’ll have to go back.

Back at the river, Dave and Mark again paddled ahead, and we again explored another side canyon. This one was pretty short, but fairly dramatic. I’ve been struggled about what to write here. I’m going to try, but it will probably come out as corny or superficial. In this canyon, the rhythm of making and breaking camp, the hikes in the blazing sun, the tranquility of floating down the river, the soreness in my muscles, and the overwhelming always-changing panoramas, suddenly became almost too beautiful to bear. The happiness that had been building in me for the past few days suddenly roared into a crescendo of joy. I threw my arms in the air and shouted with ecstasy. The passion of being alive, the thrill of each and every breath, the happiness of simply being ALIVE, just completely filled me. This happened two months ago, and while the occasional drudgery of day-to-day existence still sometimes gets me down, the memory of this pure crystalline moment, a pure existential moment of Nirvana in a nameless, otherwise insignificant side canyon, remains with me as the highlight of the trip. Years from now, if I remember nothing else from this trip, I will remember this moment.

One of the scarier sections of the trip occurred later in the day as we paddled downstream. At this point I was paddling with Paul, and Kevin was ahead of us in the kayak. Storm clouds had gathered overhead, and rain was threatening. Out of nowhere, we suddenly saw a gust of wind blowing upstream. It hit Kevin in the kayak a few hundred feet ahead of us, and his kayak instantly spun around. I had about half a second to slide down from my seat in the canoe into a more stable kneeling position and start paddling like mad. The wind hit us head on, and suddenly we were engulfed in swirling whitecaps. Keeping the canoe facing into the wind, and not going sideways, was suddenly both extremely difficult and absolutely essential. We paddled as hard as we could, angling for the shore, as wind whipped up and rain splattered against us. When we made it, we looked back to see the other two boats doing the same thing. The wind left as quickly as it came, and a few minutes later the incident was over.

It was pretty late and people were tired when we found a campsite at the mouth of Water Canyon. I found a few tentsites, and then set out to explore a little more of the canyon under the pretext of looking for additional camps.

I spontaneously broke out in a run, again overcome with joy, and jogged until the cactus density on the sides of the narrow path reached critical mass, and the realization that I was wearing sandals convinced me to be more cautious. I found a series of ruins up in the canyon, and reluctantly turned around at this point. We later found out that you could hike up and out of Water Canyon and up into the maze. Another hike for a future trip…

On my first desert trip, I wore a Commonwealth Brewery t-shirt that Mark had given to me as a gift. A few hours after that trip started, it was stained brown in the muddy pools of the Buckskin gulch. I have worn my “desert shirt” on each and every desert backpack and day hike since then (and usually every day of those trips). As this trip went on, I added another tear in the now paper-thin fabric every time I took it on or off. The shirt has served me well, and we’ve been through a lot together, but at last I realized there wasn’t enough fabric left on the shoulders to hold it together for even one more day. With extreme reluctance, my desert hiking shirt was finally retired at Water Canyon camp. Goodbye, old friend.

Zidane Headbutt Outrage

Follow the link for some funny videos.

MONEY Magazine: Best Places to Live

Fort Collins, Colorado is #1. But we knew that already...

Visit to Oregon

Over the Fourth of July weekend, Dorinna and I visited my sister and her family out in Oregon. We had a great time visiting and playing with Emma.


My new nephew Jack


Having found some extra cash (in Rich's wallet), Emma e-mails her broker on her Blackberry


Emma and Dorinna playing in the P-A-R-K


Emma holds her first kitten. We took a day trip down to Salem to visit our friend Mark, who is staying with some friends on an organic chicken farm.


Mark and his hand-made chicken coop


Jack and Emma


Dorinna, Jen, Jack, and John in the Portland Rose Garden


Uncle Rich giving Emma a "Big Push"

Stillwater Canyon Trip, Day 3

We awoke the next morning keenly aware that we had lollygagged pretty badly the day before, and we had some lost ground to make up. We loaded up the boats and paddled out Horsethief canyon and to the main current.

This time we actually used our paddles, which certainly got us moving a bit faster. Of course, we didn’t go that far before we had to land and do some more exploring. At a large bend in the river was an old cabin, inhabited a century ago by some lonely soul.

After checking it out, we enjoyed the steep climb to a tall rock rib a few hundred feet above the cabin, crowned with an old Native American ruin. The view for miles up and down the river inspired us to return to the boats and continue the paddle.
It was several miles around the bend and down a long straight section before the river again began to twist and turn. More interesting to me is that the Moenkopi layer gave way to the white sandstone of the White Rim formation. This formation has formed a large flat plateau in the Island in the Sky district of Canyonlands, and is traversed by the famous White Rim road. From our perspective at river level, sheer white cliffs rose out of the banks of the river- at first only a few feet high, but eventually towering overhead. (Incidentally, Canyonlands National Park has an outstanding Interactive Geologic Atlas available on the web).

Green River meets White Rim

The White Rim formation is very resistant, but comparatively not very thick, and we soon reached the Organ Rock Shale, a very layer of red mudstone, sandstone, and shale. Our river descent took us to Anderson Bottom, an abandoned meander. An abandoned meander, also called a Rincon, is originally formed by a loop in the canyon. Over the millennium, the river gradually cuts away at the inside edges of the loop, until it eventually breaks through. At that point, the river takes the shortcut, and a curved section of canyon is left high and dry. This one had some secrets awaiting for us.

We had heard of a slot canyon up this meander, so we started on a long hot walk across the dusty red sand. It was pretty much a slog, but we could see ourselves getting closer to a side canyon up ahead. As we went up the side canyon, we again met our friend the White Rim sandstone. A less resistant rock layer would have created a wide side canyon, but this was hardier rock, and the canyon was correspondingly smaller. Much smaller. You could reach out with your arms and touch the sides. At one point we hit a pour-off and we were stopped in our tracks. We tried a lot of different ways to climb up, but eventually had to settle for the “human ladder” approach of linking hands and forming a foothold for the others.

Past the pour off the canyon narrowed even more. We were forced to retreat when we hit a second pour-off, but it was definitely worth the side trip.

The canyon had still more secrets awaiting us. Dave and I did another short hike and found a collection of petroglyphs.

Back at the river, we added a few more miles, finding a very nice campsite on a bench above the river. We ended the day with grilled steak and potatoes, plus the obligatory whiskey.