Big Cottonwood

Last weekend Kat and I ventured up Big Cottonwood in an effort to get out of the pervasive smog that keeps lingering in our beloved city. We achieved success and clean air with a hike up one of my favorite trails, Mill D something-or-other up Big Cottonwood Canyon.  In the spring and summer the edges of the trail are screaming with wildflowers. I can identify a handful of species on a good day. On this day with our path covered in snow, there are no flowers to be seen, but plenty of evergreens to fill the space. 

I particularly like hiking in the snow, mainly because of the stillness it provides. All sounds are amplified, birds overhead. It is like the world is insulated. In places the watershed peeks out, bubbles under ice. 

For awhile, we could breathe. 

Antelope Island

Standing on the shore of the Great Salt Lake, I can't help but to hear the audio from Robert Smithson's film about the Spiral Jetty in my head. North, mud, salt crystals, rocks, water. North by East, mud, salt crystals, rocks, water.  Except I want to replace his words by what we have seen and felt. Wind, ice, magpie, harrier, snow, bison, lichen, rocks, raven, lake. The stillness of a cold day, the company of friends, the lake. One of my favorite places. 

Hiking with Andrea, I become intensely aware of scale. She focuses on lichen, leaves. I want to take giant landscape photos. We begin to strike a balance, each of our pieces creating the whole. I think about tunneling my vision, focus, the map of blue indicating the center of the salty lake. 

The biggest treasure from the day was this little guy hanging out by the side of the road. We drove slowly and he hung out for a bit. Coyote watching people watching coyote. 

I'm thinking that a trip to the Spiral Jetty may be in order as soon as it gets warmer. Clips from the Robert Smithson film are below: 

Hello, 2010

And, hello to you, blog. 

This is how I rang in the New Year, hiking up to Signal Peak, with a view of Salt Lake City below. It was cold, and worth it. If you missed out on the ring around the moon, then you missed out. Watching fireworks go up over downtown, the city lights reflected back by the cloud cover. Trying to figure out if it was beautiful or terrible. 

I haven't been out in so long, and I feel like I've missed out. I'm hoping with the beginning of the new year and new semester I'll be able to strike a good balance early in the game. 

This year I'm resolving to build the map of the world I want. 

Last Tetons Post

Some classy people in the Tetons. 

And now, something totally different.

Last night, Rachel Maddow featured a clip from the BBC Series "Last Chance to See", based off Douglas Adams' book of the same name. 

This book was my first introduction to the, as you will see, lovable kakapo.

I'm so happy that Rachel Maddow decided to feature this clip last night, if only so we could see her reaction to it. I would love to see this series in its

entirety, so hopefully it getting a little attention state-side can't hurt. But, most importantly, to draw attention to the amazing kakapo.

I remember reading "Last Chance to See" during my sophomore year of college on the recommendation of a very handsome boy. The boy and I no

longer talk, but the book is one of those that I have come to treasure. As far as nature writing is concerned, this book contains an element that I think is

missing in most environmental tomes today, a decent sense of humor. No one talked about endangered species like Douglas Adams.

Well, I suppose the penguin is a pretty peculiar creature when you think about it,

but it's quite a robust kind of peculiarness, and the bird is perfectly well adapted to

the world in which it finds itself, in a way that the kakapo is not. The kakapo is a bird

out of time. If you look one in its large, round, greeny-brown face, it has a look of

serenely innocent incomprehension that makes you want to hug it and tell it that

everything will be all right, though you know it probably will not be.

...flying is completely out of the question. Sadly, however, it seems that not only

has the kakapo forgotten how to fly, but it has also forgotten that it has forgotten

how to fly. Apparently a seriously worried kakapo will sometimes run up a tree and

jump out of it, whereupon it flies like a brick and lands in a graceless heap on the ground.

(You get it...just read the book. It is very good, I promise.)

When "LCTS" was published in 1990 roughly only 40 kakapos were left, compare that to the over 100 today. This is an amazing conservation story,

and hopefully numbers will continue to increase. Positive, funny pieces like this help to draw attention to animals who often don't get any, and avoid

the doom-and-gloom finger-wagging that is too often present in environmentalist circles today. We need to remember that there are still amazing

creatures on this planet that are worth fighting for and spending time getting others involved, instead of turning them away.

Anyway, visit the website: http://www.kakaporecovery.org.nz/ and find out more. Maybe one day you will be lucky enough to hear that subsonic boom.

It was Grand

EH Tent City in Gros Venture

More on that trip to the Tetons. Did I tell you that I almost didn't go? The night prior I was struck by a stomach bug with a vengeance. I was even responsible for a "Clean up on Aisle 1". I will not be going to the Smith's in Sugarhouse anytime soon. Anyway, I was barely able to drag my butt out of bed the morning of departure. However, I knew that if I didn't suck it up I would regret not going. I'm so glad I didn't stay behind. 

The centerpiece of the trip was going on a meditative nature hike with Jack Turner, author of "The Abstract Wild". This was the ultimate Slow Hike. For seven hours we were silent, alternating between meditating and walking slowly in half-hour increments. At first I was hesitant, almost forcefully so, especially where the walking was concerned. There were points where I wanted to just sit and write, but couldn't as we were walking. Meditating was a challenge too, but as the day went on it became easier (so easy that once I fell asleep, the sun was so warm! oops). There was a certain sense of clarity, becoming more aware of my body and spatial relation to others, my place in the environment, focusing on nature around me. 

I've been thinking about how I will write my reflection piece for this trip. What stuck out at me were all the bones I found, mostly because I was walking so slowly and had the time to look. Found on my way were 3 vertebrae (elk, bison, or deer), 2 mandibles (deer), a very small, old tibia and a large, rather freshly dead leg from an ungulate.  This has started my wheels turning on the relationships of predators and their prey within ecosystems. 

The whole experience is still fresh in my mind. Maybe it was the silence, or being so focused for such an extended period of time. What I learned will certainly help me with my nature journaling and just becoming more thoughtful in regards to my experiences in nature, and perhaps others as well. 

Upon returning to camp in the evening I even felt well enough to enjoy an adult beverage (more than 3.2%!) what a great end to an amazing day. 

I can see your Tetons from here.

Jackson, WY, Tetons National Park. 

Two weekends ago I went on a retreat with my graduate program to the Tetons. There, we spent a day on a meditative nature hike with author Jack Turner. I'm still writing and thinkg about about my experience in my personal journal. This trip was definitely amazing, it was good to think about nature in a new way and to spend time with my classmates. As always, the Tetons inspire me, it is such a beautiful place. 

I have been way too busy with work and schoolin'. I plan on posting more pictures soon. And, hopefully go on a hike this weekend. Fall is just about upon us, leaves are turning and tomorrow it will only be 49 degrees out. Wish this FL girl luck!