rocky mountain national park

Chillin’ Like a Moose

January 21, 2018January 27, 2018Posted in UncategorizedTagged moose, rockies, rocky mountain, rocky mountain national parkLeave a comment

“Why, hello there,” I said to the moose who chose to make my acquaintance. He nonchalantly came by as if we were old friends. I sat at a picnic table off to the side of Coyote Valley. I heard a rustle in the brush behind me, and a moose emerged, ever so unphased.

I had read some notices about moose, how they can be dangerous, how they can charge. This moose didn’t seem the least bit aggressive. He was just out for an mid-day stroll, enjoying the park just like all the other visitors. I reached for my camera to take his picture, but the lighting just wasn’t enough. The pictures weren’t very satisfying. I put the camera away and took in this moment of an up close encounter with a moose.

I had been sitting there, relaxing, enjoying the beautiful view of the valley and writing in

my notebook reflections on my experience in Canyonlands. I was writing about my emotional experience sitting on the canyon rim and the voice of God speaking to me ever so clearly. Tears of thankfulness and spiritual renewal fell down upon the journal. Then the moose arrived, and that particular emotional moment ended as I was faced with another of excitement I had seen photographers with huge lens trying to take photos of wildlife elsewhere in this park and others, but here I was feet away from a giant moose walking so slowly and carefree. I was putting forth no effort in being able to see the moose. It just paroosed right past me. Sometimes the greatest things just come so expectantly and nonchalantly.

After the moose passed by, I felt my visit to Coyote Valley had been fulfilled. I had finished writing the entry in my journal and was ready to move on and see what Grand Lake was all about.

This morning was when I attempted but failed to reach the top of Mount Ida. That was followed by a stop at the Alpine Visitor center, where I had lunch in the cafeteria. I then had proceeded to Holzwarth Historic District. There a short trail leads through the meadow of the valley to the guest cabins from an old ranch of the early 1900s which is now preserved by the National Park Service. The cabins are furnished like they would have been back in the day. I couldn’t go inside but I peeked in all the windows and imagined what it would have been like to stay here years ago. This all led up to me finding my way to Coyote Valley where I had stopped to write and met the moose.

Now I was on my way to Grand Lake. Grand Lake is the name of the lake and town on the southwest side of the park. I had camped next to the lake on my second night of visiting the Rockies. Although the lake was beautiful to see at night, my campsite was right next to a road, and my neighbors seemingly enjoyed top forty hits instead of the sound and solitude of nature. That night I had left my campsite to sit in my car by the lake. There I brushed my teeth and enjoyed the beauty of the scene. I had collected enough water gallons that by now I had figured out the trick of brushing my teeth and getting ready for bed without visiting a restroom. I would spit water into its own gallon jug, and pour clean water from another jug into a used McDonalds cup to rinse my mouth. This sticks in my memory, because it was the most beautiful place I ever brushed my teeth. The lake, the mountains, the stars, the cool night sky. It was all so nice, and this is where I also first implemented my non bathroom brushing teeth procedures which would come in handy later in campgrounds without running water.

The next morning, at this campground, I packed the tent first thing. Although I had reserved and paid to stay here another night, I just couldn’t bear to wake up to Katy Perry roaring again. From here I had traveled into the park. I arrived by 7am, and was able to secure a site inside the park at Timber Creek. When I was setting up camp an elk walked right through the campsite next to mine and paused, just chillin like the moose. I was able to capture a few good pictures.

Setting up my tent, I couldn’t find the tent fly. I had concluded I must have left it at the campground by Grand Lake. I drove all the way back to check. I didn’t see it, nor had my pop-infused neighbors seen it. Come to find out, I set my tent up in Timber Creek right on top the fly. This all happened this morning, and by evening, here I was returning to Grand Lake once again. I wanted to check out the Grand Lake Lodge and have dinner downtown.

As I approached the driveway to Grand Lake lodge I wasn’t sure if it was acceptable for one such as I, lowly and penny pinching to visit such a wealthy establishment. And I didn’t know just how fancy the place was. I didn’t know if there would be some sort of snazzy valet parking. I didn’t know if I could freely walk into the lobby, but I thought, hey, why not find out? Plus it’s a Lodge, just the term evokes a sort of friendliness.

I had walked into the lodge at Bryce Canyon and had hung out quite a bit in their lobby, but the difference here was that this lodge was not technically in the National Park. It was right outside the park. I arrived and decided I would play it like I was a guest staying there. So I walked right in the lobby and out the backdoor where the patio and pool were. It was a stunning view with the pool right next to a beautiful lake with rocky mountains surrounding it. It wasn’t a very big pool but it was quite busy. I noticed signs for a wedding.

I went inside and paroosed around the gift shop. The lobby was made of all wood and was nice, but there was nothing too extraordinary about it. The view of the lake out the back was what made this place well worth the stop. Inside I decided to take a break and sit for a while on a swinging bench and free some memory on my camera card.

After resting at Grand Lake Lodge I proceeded into Grand Lake. There I at dinner at a place called Sagebrush I had read about on Tripadvisor. The food was delicious and the helping was heaping, even for the ravenous hiker I was. I had a BBQ half chicken, mashed potatoes, baked beans, and cornbread. The waitress was very friendly. She asked me many questions. Are you traveling alone? Where are you from? Where are you camping? She told me that she thought I was extremely “cool” and that she would love to be doing what I was doing. She gave me a recommendation on a free place to camp, but I didn’t know where she was referring to. She was very attentive and came over to talk to me frequently. I am not good at picking up signals but this was very evident. She wanted to make a connection, but for whatever reason she had not drawn my attention like the young lady at the Petrified Forest. So I let her go.

After my meal, I walked along the mainstreet in my flip flops. I let my feet breathe, and I just walked slowly and carefree- at ease, just like the moose, with no hurry. I looked in the shop windows and passed by many restaurants. It was touristy, but with a more tactful and homey feel than its rival, Estes Park, which was overly crowded and blaringly commercial for my liking.

Along my walk I stopped for some cherry chocolate chip ice cream, and walked over to a park which was more like a city green. I noticed a gazebo in the middle and this reminded me of something. Presently, and for the past few days, I was in a power crisis. My cell phone battery had died, and I couldn’t charge it in the car, because I had blown a fuse. I didn’t know at the time that it was just a easy fix fuze issue. I thought the charging outlet was broken entirely. However, I had no way to charge my phone in the car. I had drained the battery from my Chromebook into my phone, yet the phone was still soon to lose power. I had been on a lookout for outlets, unfortunately no bathrooms in the National Park had outlets. Two days prior, when passing through a small town nearby, there was a local visitor center, where there was a private bathroom with an outlet. I took my time in that bathroom, really prolonging my number two, in order to try and pick up some charge for my phone.

Here, now in Grand Lake, I had noticed outlets inside the park gazebo. Perfect! I grabbed my chargers in my car and plugged in my devices in the Gazebo. There was a pair of young teenage lovers there as well, which didn’t even make things awkward. I didn’t care. I had important priorities. I needed power. There was also wifi! It was important for me to keep my phone on, because I was waiting for a call or text from my cousin Jonathan. There was talk of meeting up with him and some other family within the next few days. I was anxiously awaiting communication from him. It would determine my route of travel, and I didn’t want to miss the opportunity to connect.

After sitting in the park gazebo for a while, uploading some photos to facebook, and finishing my ice cream, I headed back into the National Park, back to my campsite for my final night in the Rocky Mountains. It had been a hodgepodge of a day, from packing up and setting up camp in the early a.m. with an elk by my side, to getting lost on route to Mount Ida and encountering Noah, making my way to the Holzwarth cabins and Coyote Valley where I met a moose, visiting Grand Lake Lodge, and then taking in downtown with delicious food. Tomorrow, the adventure would continue, looping around Colorado, heading down to Great Sand Dunes National Park and Preserve, and reconnecting with my cousins.

Read the next entry “On the Great Sand Dunes,” here:

https://joshthehodge.wordpress.com/2018/01/27/on-the-great-sand-dunes/

Read the previous entry “Lost on Mount Ida,” here:

https://joshthehodge.wordpress.com/2018/01/18/lost-on-mount-ida-2/

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Trekking to Sky Pond

January 8, 2018January 8, 2018Posted in UncategorizedTagged rocky mountain national park, sky pondLeave a comment

I was at the trailhead by 6am. I wanted to make sure I could squeeze in as much adventure as I could in this day and also make sure I could find parking. I hadn’t yet put myself together, so, within my car, in the parking lot, I was changing out of my nighttime attire into layers for today’s hike. I strapped up my boots, filled up my hydration pack, gathered my essential snacks, and fired up my hiking GPS. The destination was Sky Pond. According to the map it was a 9.8 mile hike, nicely broken up into segments with Alberta Falls, Timberline Falls, Glass Lake, and Loch Lake all being points of interest along the way.

Unlike the hikes in Capitol Reef, where despite beauty and intrigue the miles stretched on forever, here the miles seem to pass by so quickly. It helped that I was full of energy and excitement, running nearly half of the distance. The weather was also amiable. The sky was perfectly rich blue, and the morning sun was bright but not painful. It shown enough to provide a warm touch on my face and arms, but in the shade, the air was cool and brisk. It was an ideal balance, making it prime hiking time. Surely all of nature’s different attractions and vistas along the way made the hike so enjoyable that it passed by quickly. Also, I had stopped to take a plethora of photos, and today’s views were the stuff of magazine, quintessential perfection.

The first stopping point on the hike was Alberta Falls. It was a small but energetic

waterfall, or rather a series of waterfalls. The water rushed down in a white fury, leaping into a rapid stream around boulders adorned with lichen. Along the rocky borders of the river stood short pines. Their green complementary contrasted with the white rapids and the bright blue of the morning sky.

As the trail gradually ascended, it reached a point where I could see the Rocky Mountain giants through the tops of the pines. Their snow capped heights lookied so majestic. I soon came to the first lake- The Loch. The view was that of a magazine. Bold rocky tops swooped down and reached tall as they surrounded the lake. In crevices, all around, snow slid down the mountain heights. At the lower levels thins pines congregated quietly and uniformly. And then at the very bottom of view, the cold dark lake water lay with tiny little ripple-like waves from the gentle breeze.

It was a very serene place. Except for one other hiker, a middle-aged man, I was alone. I faced the lake, closed my eyes, and took in a deep breath of the cold refreshing mountain

air. Although often times I look for symbols in the landscape around me and the voice of God to meet me out in the quietude of the wild, other times, like this one, I’m just filled of thankfulness. I am speechless, and in my mind, I just keep saying “thank you, God.” I celebrate who God is, one who shares his beautiful creativity with us. Physical beauty and the pinnacle of artistic expression is found in wild natural places like this.

As I had paused here to take in the beauty, the sun reached higher in the sky, and positioned itself in such a way to permit the mountainscape to reflect perfectly the lake. After my rejuvenating and invigorating pause, I continued on my hike to Sky Pond.

As I was reaching higher altitude, the landscape became covered in snow, and no thin layer of snow by any means, but feet of snow. Most of it was well compacted and icy, making it easy to stay on-top. I also took on the strategy of placing my feet in the footprints of hikers who had traveled on this days prior. Their footprints had turned into icy pads I could ground my feet on.

For a significant portion of trekking over snow, the land was level and tame, then I looked up to see a large incline completely covered in snow. To one side was a steep rock wall- to the other, a jungle of rocks and Timberline Falls. The way up had to be between the two. The ground became steeper, and the snow, harder and icier. The only hint of a path was the footprints of others solidified in the snowmelt. The path curved around between the rock wall and the waterfall. The incline caused me to hunch over, leveraging my weight and using my hands on the ground for balance. I wasn’t just following footprints. I was carefully placing my feet into small icy steps created by the trod of those who came before.

My heart began to race in nervousness. I was alone. I didn’t know if this hike was supposed to be accomplished in such conditions. I didn’t trust the terrain, and I didn’t want to end up in my National Parks Search and Rescue book I had told Dom about. If snow and ice had slipped out from under me, or I had lost my footing I would have gone tumbling and sliding down on the icy incline, and I wouldn’t have slide exactly the way I came up. I wouldn’t have slid down at such a curve. Instead I would have slid straight down in the jungle of rocks and into the Timberline falls. It would not have been good. I would have ended up in the book for sure. Times like these, though, call for the trekking pole. Thank goodness I had saved it from the depths of Bryce Canyon. It came in handy here, as an anchor to hold onto.

Eventually the icy footprints I had been following diminished. They led me right into the upper portion of Timberline Falls. Hmm, am I supposed to climb up the waterfall? I thought. I observed my surroundings. There was absolutely no other way. I didn’t come all this way to give up now, I thought. Onward I must go!

There were parts of the waterful I would not set foot on, like the parts almost entirely covered in snow, where I could hear the rush of water but could not see it. However, the section I was taking on was the exposed and clearly frozen part of the falls, where icy rocks were jungled together, and the collection of rocks was enough and varied that there were places to put my feet and grab onto to hoist myself up. I had worked up a sweat on this journey, and the sun was getting warmer, so here I was maneuvering through a frozen waterfall in a tank top, but my hands were cold. I wanted gloves.

There were a couple movements I needed to make, to hoist myself up rocks, in which I had to stop myself from letting panic set in. Instead, I relied on my animal instincts of survival. I would climb up this waterfall! I would see Sky pond!

And I did! It was amazing. It was similar to the Loch, but at this altitude much less trees

remained, and snow and ice melt reflected so artistically on the lake. I climbed up a large nearby rock. From here I stood and looked behind at the beautiful valley I had traversed to get to this point. I could see the pine forests squeezed in between rock giants, one of the lakes already passed, and the other mountains in the distance. Up here the beauty was so transcending, the air so brisk, but the sun so warming. It was all so relaxing. It put me at ease. I decided to place my backpack down as a pillow, put on my light hoodie, and lay down, hugging myself and deeply breathing the rich air. I didn’t think it was possible here but I fell asleep for a good twenty minutes. I awoke to greet the beautiful view with a renewed lens. I don’t ever recall, waking up to a sight so beautiful in my life. This was pure bliss. I sat there, quietly taking it all in.

Other hikers had arrived. It was a family- mom, dad, brother, sister, and grandma. I had my moment and I decided I would venture back down on the trail, but I didn’t want to descend the ice waterfall and the slick snowscape. There must be another way, I thought. And so I started down the other side of Timberline Falls. After climbing and scrambling down immensities of rock, my efforts proved fruitless. I wouldn’t be able to get down successfully. The terrain became impossible, so I backtracked up to Sky Pond, and by this time the family who had also been enjoying the lake had begun their descent. Perfect, I thought. I will follow them, and see how its done. They carefully and successfully climbed down the waterfall and then, on their behinds, they went sliding down the snowscape. I was the caboose, trailing grandma, and I’m glad I was, because I thought to myself “If grandma can do this, then certainly I can.” And P.S. What a lady! Grandma and I got into a bit of small talk until I squatted down, and slid on my boots back to level ground. The family was very pleasant and clearly adventurous. On the way back we all helped each other out, finding the the best routes over the snow and through the woods. At this time of day, other hikers had engaged on this same adventure. We gave warnings of the challenges ahead as they inquired.

Eventually, about halfway in the return, I arrived back at the junction with the path that leads to Jewels Lake. I decided to take the side trip and check out Jewels lake. It was a crowded area, with a smaller, but nevertheless beautiful lake. Many tourists were taking photos of themselves and each other. I was clearly not the only hiker in a tank top and shorts, later I would find a photo of my mom’s dad, Grandpa Wolf, in the same location.

When I got back to my car, I checked my GPS, my 9.8 mile hike, had turned into around 14 miles. I added that to my hiking miles tally and was glad to bump my miles hiked up significantly. I was surprised at all the miles hiked, because it was still only early afternoon.

Immediately I was able to determine that this was my favorite hike to date. The amazing views, matched with the snowy challenges, and traversing a waterfall, just made it so unique and such an experience. To me, one of factors that makes a good hike, are the challenges it presents, whether climbing up a waterfall, descending by rope, crossing riverbeds, scrambling up rock faces. It’s the challenges that add a sense of accomplishment and create stories to be shared. This hike had topped my list. To me, in my limited experience, it was like I had summited Mount Everest. I had endured the snowy expanse, and all the perils, and lived to tell about it.

The rest of my day was largely uneventful. I had driven into Estes Park, which was very crowded, touristy, and untasteful for my liking. The only thing I left Estes Park with was a Subway sandwich. I returned to the the National Park, and sought out a picnic area to enjoy my sandwich in. I ended up just eating it in a parking lot at one of the overlooks in the alpine tundra, because the view was exceptionally breathtaking this time of day. A large capstone like cluster of clouds had congregate to cover the sun and darken the sky, but a break in the clouds allowed for light beams to shoot down and illuminate the snowy mountains.

I hadn’t thought about it in the moment, but now as I observe and reflect over the photographs, I draw parallels to the light beams shining down and illuminating the dark canyons in Canyonlands National Park. I wonder if, in this moment, God was trying to speak to me, telling me, I will take those canyons and turn them into mountains, taking the deep dark broken places of life and building them up to strong unwavering peaks.

Finding my way out of these canyons in life could be like this day’s hikes- a journey met with challenges, but the challenges not setbacks, and the challenges not hindering but rather spurring me on to overcome. As I embark on a quest to traverse and confront my canyons, I will approach them with the attitude of today’s hike. I didn’t come all this way to give up now. And when it’s complete, and my canyons are raised to mountains, I will reflect and gaze upon the new beauty, feeling the accomplishment and wonder. Greatest of all, I will have a new story to tell of the power and beauty of God.

Read the previous entry “Starstruck at Rocky Mountain National Park,” here: https://joshthehodge.wordpress.com/2018/01/05/starstruck-in-rocky-mountain-national-park/

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Starstruck in Rocky Mountain National Park

January 5, 2018January 5, 2018Posted in UncategorizedTagged colorado, rmnp, rockies, rocky mountain, rocky mountain national parkLeave a comment

“There’s a moose on the road!” the lady exclaimed.

There are no moose in the Rocky Mountains of Colorado, I thought.

“Just up ahead on the road you’ll see him.”

Poor lady, I thought. She doesn’t know the difference between a moose and an elk.

However, in my ignorance, I was wrong. She was right.

I had just gotten out of my car at the Kawuneeche Visitor Center in Rocky Mountain National Park. I had been arriving from the West via Grand Lake. She had been arriving from the East. Apparently there was a moose to look forward on the road up ahead, but I missed it and stopped in the visitor center. I didn’t bother asking about hiking trails. I had done my research online, and I knew what I wanted to do, and I was very excited about it. This was the Rocky Mountain National Park! It’s one of those rare places you hear so much about and can’t believe you are actually there when you arrive.

For me Rocky Mountain National Park stands in a prestige collection of National Parks. Some National Parks just certainly have more fame than others. This was one of the big ones. I’d file it along with Yosemite, Yellowstone, Glacier, and the Great Smoky Mountains. I had made sure before arriving I had planned out this visit. I needed to be assured that my Rocky Mountain experience would be full and complete. I didn’t want to miss anything. I felt my plan was solid. And here, meeting Rocky Mountain National Park was like meeting a very famous celebrity. There was sure excitement, a bit of nervousness, and the whole fascination from being starstruck.

Leaving the visitor center I made my way on the park road to the alpine summit. Along the way I made a few stops. I had gotten out of my car at Coyote Valley to gaze across the Kawuneeche Valley, where meadows of green grass were adorned with clusters of pine. Along the valley edges, the terrain gradually rises and stretches. It grows with thickening dark pine forest until it can reach no further and mountaintops peak with bald rocky tops capped with snow.

Next to me, just meandering right through the meadow grass, at level with the rest of the ground, was the Colorado River. It looked like nothing but a stream. It was quiet, humble, unannounced- except for a small sign labeling it. I stood there in astonishment. This little river is the same one that carves the immense depth and grandeur of the Grand Canyon. Incredible! It all begins with ice melt from the Rocky Mountains. This took me back to my parallels I had made while in Canyonlands about how in our lives there can be canyons, dark areas of sin that can be corrosive. I had previously concluded that canyons sometimes are formed by something so small and seemingly insignificant and sometimes in our lives small it’s those little things which over time can eat away and corrupt a person. Here this was super evident. This dainty little stream, meandering so carefree through the sunny meadow, would become extremely powerful and corrosive, tearing away the land, creating profound depths and forming one of the greatest natural wonders of the world. This realization was a lot to take in.

I continued on my drive up Highway 34, Trail Ridge Road, through the pine forest. The drive took me over the Continental Divide and into altitudes well into the 11,000s which turned the landscape into alpine tundra. Here no trees nor shrubbery grew. The ground was either blanketed with short grass or covered in snow. I was up amongst mountain peaks, looking down into massive pine forests and valleys.

As I reached higher altitude, the road became something of a challenge, because it narrowed and hugged nothing. From the edge of the road dropped dramatic distances down into valleys. On top of it, it was a busy road, with cars in sight in front of me, cars lined up behind me, and cars passing by very closely on my left. I needed complete focus. I was uneasy, clenching my steering wheel tightly. This road just didn’t seem, by any means, safe. However I had no regrets. This was part of the adventure.

The climax to the drive was arriving at the Alpine Visitor Center. It was a break, a place to breathe at ease. It was also very busy. I drove around the parking lot several times, before I found an open space. On one side of the parking lot was a snowbank reaching well over 20 feet tall. Snow also blinded half of the windows at the visitor center. Getting outside my car, I noticed everything was kind of wet and dripping. It was a bright sunny June day, and temperatures had to be in the 60s. It was surprising to see that such an enormous snow bank still remained. It was telling of what the snowfall must have been like here in the winter.

From the parking lot I walked up a short trail to a mountain summit where many tourist stood around in shorts, taking photos of themselves and the great distances around them. I could feel the altitude. Breathing up here was not as effortless as it typically is in the world below. I then went into the visitor center which was joined with a large gift shop and a cafeteria. I checked things out briefly and then walked across the road to the Ute Trail. I began my first planned hike and started it off running. It was a great feeling to be running on top of a mountain, but snow was becoming deeper, slowing me down. Also, the temperature was dropping, out on the frozen expanse. I then realized with the snow how long this would take me, and how I could easily lose the trail. I reevaluated the situation and decided it was a little too ambitious for the moment. I returned to the Alpine Visitor Center. I found a Rocky Mountain National Park t-shirt tye dyed in the design of the Colorado flag. I bought along with it a hat and a book about the first 100 years of the National Park Service. Then it was off to find my campsite.

On the drive up in the alpine tundra I saw lot of wildlife. I saw mountain goats, elk, and many marmots. I had gotten off at one overlook, and a half dozen marmots were crawling and flopping around. This was my first ever time seeing a marmot. Frankly, I didn’t know what a marmot was but had just learned to identify one in the visitor center. To me, they look like a cross between a beaver and a woodchuck. In the eastern United States we don’t have marmots, and it’s not a very popular animal, thus its not built into our vocabulary. However, I love marmots. They are such goofy-looking animals with a cute charm about them and a high pitch short squeal that sounds like a smoke alarm when the battery needs to be changed. At this particular overlook, the marmots came very close to the tourists, perhaps looking for handouts. It led way to me being able to get some great Marmot pictures, not only capturing the image of the animals, but the beautiful landscape in the background as well. I took one of the marmot stately posing on a rock with the most majestic valley and mountain view behind him. It was quite a photo.

I had descended the heights to Moraine Park Campground. My particular site, which I had reserved online, was one of my favorite campsites to date. From the car, I had to walk a short distance to the edge of the forest where the trees led out into a prairie with a view of a mountain on the other side. The campsite was very private. I felt as if I had the whole prairie and mountain view to myself. I set up camp and, while doing so, made acquaintance with my neighboring campers. It was an elderly couple camping out of a small fancy lookin retro camper connected to their vehicle by a hitch. They were from California and cleary had experience doing this. They were preparing dinner out of a kitchenette accessible from the outside on the back of their camper. I inquired if there were bear boxes or any food storage instructions I needed to be aware of. They assured me that bears wouldn’t be a problem and nothing was out of the ordinary.

After camp was set up, I drove a short distance to the small Bierstadt Lake. I took a peaceful walk around it on the trail loop. I observed a few men fly fishing, sporting their rubber waders and standing in water up to their waists. The late evening sky was clear and crisp and I admired the pristine reflection, in deep rich colors, of the mountains in the lake.

I felt a feeling of accomplished arrival. I knew I would be staying here for a few days, so I felt like I had fully checked in. I was successfully making my acquaintance and was at ease, knowing this would be a good stay in Rocky Mountain National Park.

I returned to my camp, to my secluded little hideout at the prairie’s edge. I heated a can of soup and cooked oatmeal over the fire, while writing a few postcards. I watched the moon and stars come out and enjoyed the heat and crackle of my campfire next to me. I then retired to my tent where I had a relaxing readathon, reading over the park newspaper, another chapter in my book about the West, and the intro to my new history book about the National Park Service. All during this my campfire continued to subtly crack and send flickering warm glows across the side of my tent. This was a quintessential end of a day and included what I love most about camping- the beauty, the quiet, the simple comfort of nature, and the prospect of adventure in the day to come.

Read the previous entry “Arriving at Black Canyon,” here: https://joshthehodge.wordpress.com/2017/12/31/arriving-at-black-canyon/

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