Wednesday, October 31, 2012

Zion National Park, Utah

That would be me, drinking coffee in front of Zion National Park Lodge. For two weeks I stayed in Zion, not at the Lodge but in a nice campsite right on the Virgin River.
Every day five deer roamed through the campground. It is always a joy for me to see any kind of wildlife; it never gets old. This little guy sat down to rest while the rest of the rest of the deer browsed on leaves and grass.
Each morning I sat right here, looking out at the river and drinking my Starbucks Via. A gal could get used to something like this. Whenever I am at home my heart longs for the sound of the river tumbling over the rocks and before long I have packed my gear and am back on the road looking for water.
One of the prettiest walks in Zion National Park is the Pairus Trail; a nearly 4 mile round trip hike that begins in the campground and goes up to Canyon Junction and back again. The best time to take the hike is after dinner just as the sun is setting. The mountains literally glow with the last rays of sunshine. One night I took the hike and it was dark by the time I got to the junction; a little spooky but very cool at the same time.  Instead of walking back on the trail, I hopped the shuttle that took me back to camp.
One afternoon while out on the Pairus, I encountered my German neighbors who very obligingly took my picture. The cool air, red cliffs, open landscapes and dramatic scenery all made me very happy as you can see.
I love cloudy days, probably because I am melancholic by nature. Everything looks so exciting to me with grey, white and black clouds in the sky.
"In every walk with nature one receives far more than he seeks." John Muir I do agree with Mr. Muir. Every time I am out walking in the natural world, my heart is uplifted, my spirit is cleansed and I always feel better.
Camping by myself can get lonely. I usually try to talk to people and once in a while go on hikes with fellow campers. I met all kinds of people on this trip; a young rock climber from Joshua Tree, a middle aged Hispanic man who loved to gamble, an older couple who treasured the quiet, lots of people from Germany and one slightly eccentric rock collector who had to show me hundreds of rocks in the back of his truck and tell me where he got each one. My most memorable encounter was after I climbed out of the Left Fork of the Virgin and was completely exhausted, hot and sweaty. I was pouring water over my head and leaning up against my car when an old biker with white hair and a black leather do-rag came over and talked to me. He told me about recently losing his wife to a lung disease, the pain of living alone and his bad legs that just don't work at times. I felt compelled to pray for him, so I asked him and he was delighted. It was a precious moment, sitting on a rock overlooking the canyon and praying for this LDS biker. After we prayed he was so happy. That made me happy.
This was my first sign of autumn in the Park; colorful maple leaves intermingling with greenery. Fall is my favorite time of year and Zion in the Fall is outrageous. Of course thousands of other people feel the same way, so to avoid the crowds, I often took the road less traveled into places hardly anyone visits.
That would be me sitting under the spray of water at Weeping Rock.
At Weeping Rock, ancient water constantly seeps from the sandstone and forms a spray of waterfall dripping over the cliff. Lush hanging gardens thrive on the cliffs and in the spring bloom with living color.
One of my hideaways.....a beautiful side canyon with undulating sandstone walls. For hours I explored every nook and cranny of the canyon, searching out the animal tracks and small pools of water. Never saw one person...very cool and yes I do carry pepper spray and a knife but would probably spray myself and cut off my finger if it came down to it.
"As for me, I will call upon God, and the Lord shall save me. Evening and morning and at noon I will pray, and cry aloud, and He shall hear my voice." Psalm 55:16-17 Whenever I get out in the wild places, my heart is immediately drawn to the Lord. I cry out to Him just as David did in this Psalm from the Bible. The Lord always hears my cries and blesses me with His presence.
I am fascinated with color, shape and texture. Taking a walk through these little side canyons satisfies my tactile needs. I run my fingers through the grainy sand, caress the ridges and cracks in the rocks and pick up sticks and leaves just to feel them in my hands. I must admit sometimes I hug trees. Weird, but it gives me strength.
I live near the coast and don't often see color like this. We do have some colored trees, but to find them wild and ungroomed is so much more fun. Wilderness has its own kind of untethered beauty that plays my heartstrings like nothing else can.
A side canyon I happened upon....what an incredible place.
Sweet scent of pine still lingers in my memory.....a tender emotion that softens my rough places.
A riotous explosion of color; could almost hear the leaves dancing.  
One day I got it in my head that I would hike down to the Left Fork of the Virgin River. I actually did this hike once, but came up this trail after a nine mile hike from Wildcat Canyon through the Subway. I knew I couldn't go up the canyon to the Subway without a permit, so I just thought I would hike down and swim in the river. In order to even get to the trail, I had to hike about a mile out to the edge of the cliffs, a beautiful walk through pine, shrubs and red rock cliffs.
Did get a little nervous when I saw this sign; it seemed so portentous, as if it were giving me a warning of some kind.
I started down the rugged trail, a path that led straight down the side of the cliff. Never saw a soul. The trail rapidly turned into no trail, just a massive landslide. I sat down and contemplated my future. I finally decided it was a good day to die and kept going, slipping and sliding on my butt, across the landslide and down the mountain. After a bit I panicked and sat down to eat my lunch. Suddenly four young adults came skipping down the landslide trail like it was nothing. I watched them go down the mountain and  knew it was possible for me to make it. It wasn't long before I was down the mountain, hot and sweaty but alive and well.
There is no trail once you get down into the canyon, so I just jumped the rocks and headed up the river.
I found some very cool little water falls and swimming holes and promptly jumped in the water. The air was so warm that I dried off rather quickly.
A few hikers passed by me, on their way up to the Subway; an amazing tubular tunnel that reflects the light like an abalone.
When I looked up at this mountain and realized I had climbed way down here, I was  totally amazed.  Everything was great until I realized I had to climb all the way back up again.
Jumped back in the swimming hole for one last swim with the fishes before heading up the long, grueling trail.
Quintessential Zion; my home away from home.
 Light illuminating the mountaintops.
The East Side of Zion National Park is a great place to get off the road and hike away from the crowds. I always find peace and solace in the quiet places.
One red tree in the midst of tall green pines; she is different than all the other trees and actually likes being red and losing her leaves each fall. She is not afraid to be naked as she knows spring will soon clothe her in the finest garment of fresh, green leaves. Oh, to be a tree.
I found a small pool at the end of this sandy trail in some out of the way side canyon. Bighorn Sheep prints were everywhere, obviously using this as a watering hole and a safe place to rest.
I found this reflection in Echo Canyon; a passing moment of ephemeral beauty.
Red sandstone weathering away into gorgeous shapes with deep color and intriguing patterns. Hope that happens to me when I get old. But as I was recently reminded by the Passafiume family, "Its not the years...it's the mileage." Indiana Jones
On my last evening in Zion, I hopped on the shuttle and road to the end of the canyon to walk along the river. The lighting was just perfect as I wandered along the river, soaking in every bit of red sandstone, lofty cliffs, warbling river water and setting sun. Until we meet again......

Thursday, October 4, 2012

Old Point Loma Lighthouse, San Diego, CA

Last week, my sister and her husband Tom came down to visit me. It was early in the morning when I drove down to the airport to pick them up and was greeted with this radiant sunrise right outside my front door!
Judy loves lighthouses and had never seen the Old Point Loma Lighthouse in San Diego, just seven miles from the airport. After gathering her luggage we drove out to the Cabrillo National Monument only to find the lighthouse covered in fog. "Old Glory" waved in the breeze, despite the fog.  
My sister does not like having her picture taken, but as Tom and Judy walked up the stairs, she seemed so happy that I took her picture anyways.
The lighthouse was completed in 1854, stands 422 feet above sea level and overlooks the bay and ocean. At the time it must have seemed like a great place to build but little did they know the light would often be obscured by fog and low clouds. On a good day the light could be seen for up to 32 miles away, on a bad day, hardly at all. The lighthouse was closed in 1891 and keeper Robert Israel and his family moved into a new light station at the bottom of the hill. This is not Robert Israel, but my handsome brother in law, Tom.
After the fog lifted we were able to see the complete beauty of this simple structure. How comforting it must have been to be welcomed into the San Diego Harbor by the light of this once radiant lighthouse. Dorica Magomba, a Maasai farmer once said, "When you have light, you have courage." I agree and constantly look to Jesus Christ, the Light of the World, to give me courage and help me walk through this life.
 As you can see, I am very happy to be anywhere with Tom and Judy! 

The living quarters for the Keepers of the Light, restored to what it would have looked like while they lived here. On a clear day they must have had incredible views.
One last view before heading off to lunch at the Old Town Mexican Cafe in Old Town, San Diego. I had some killer Pozole, a pork and hominy stew along with handmade tortillas right off the cooking iron. Some things are almost too good to be true.
We stayed for a week down in Carlsbad; talk about a room with a view! Every night we were treated to wonderful sunsets and crashing ocean waves.
My grandsons, Ethan and Wyatt, watching the sunset from our room. Good night to one and all!

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