Reportage

FLY FISHING REPORTAGE FROM UTAH'S HIGH UINTA RANGE

It's been a couple of years since I took this trip, but it was such a great trip I keep going back to it mentally.

Joe and Jordan just below Dead Horse Lake.

Joe and some high mountain lakes.

Joe takes a glacial bath.

There were six of us total and we spent a full three days backpacking and fly-fishing all through Buck's Pasture and Dead Horse Lake. Of course I dragged along my camera to document some of the better moments.

Spencer's wrecked feet.

Joe and Walter around 12,500 feet.

With Spring runoff saturating the trail, our feet stayed wet for the full three days. I think we went through an entire roll of medical tape trying to doctor blisters. Outside of that, it was mostly high living and there wasn't much suffering. The food was great (fresh caught trout) and we saw some of the most amazing scenery that only a handful of people get to see in a given year. We spooked small groups of elk and hiked over barren mountain passes to access some of the most pristine mountain lakes. All of the larger lakes in the area are stocked with tiger trout by government plane.

Freshly cleaned Tiger trout.

Walter on the "trail."

Walter seasons up our dinner.

There was still snow in the higher elevations and two from our group decided to strip down and enjoy the glacial lakes.

Dead Horse Lake

Overall it was an incredible trip, one that I would happily do again!

ADVENTURE REPORTAGE FROM THE SLOT CANYONS OF ESCALANTE

ESCALANTE

The view from our campsite at Wide Hollow Reservoir.

"Really? Three miles from home?" was all I could think as the truck choked to a stop. I would later realize it was all thanks to the 25 gallons of unleaded gas I forced into it's diesel-only tank. Once the initial anger had subsided, and as I waited for the tow truck, I was able to look back on a great weekend, thankful there were so many adventures to be had so close to where I had chosen to call home. I'm a Utah transplant, having left my native Texas for higher elevation more than fourteen years ago. Checking Escalante off the Must-See list was pointless though, because after my last trip South, I added it back.

Southern Utah Fall color.

The trip roster consisted of me, my lovely wife Steph, her sister Les, and Les's husband Jordan. We were an excited bunch, ready for sunshine and red dirt in our shoes. So we loaded up the aforementioned truck Friday afternoon and raced South to set up camp and beat the fading light. After driving our tent stakes halfway into the rocky, RV-ready, campsite soil (if you could even call it soil) we cut out of camp for dinner at the local diner. We were greeted by a pushy waiter that messed up our drink orders and miraculously talked each of us out of our preferred menu item. Feeling suckered into the more-expensive brisket, I am ashamed to say I left a good tip and ultimately quite satisfied with my "choice." We spent some great time talking over dinner then headed back to camp for an evening fire and some more laughs.

Last light over Wide Hollow Reservoir.

Finally retiring for the evening around ten, having been coaxed out of the brisk evening air by a warm tent (thank you Heater Buddy), we spent another hour or two laughing inside the glowing blue of our tent. We nodded off one by one, and like most camping trips, unintentionally took turns as night watch. Sleep invaders would include the cold, the sound of snoring, and a lifeless appendage needing to be roused back to circulation. But despite all of that, I always manage to awake feeling refreshed and ready for the days activities. In our case, we had a lot of them!

Glowing tent and our fire.

SLOT CANYONS

In the morning we ate, packed, dressed, and set out on the thirty-plus miles of dirt road to our first destination…the slot canyons. The drive was slow-going in parts, the road being so washboarded I thought the screws were rattling out of the truck's frame. My anxiousness to get off the road and get hiking was fueled further by stories from the prior year's trip of Les and Jordan getting two flat tires on this same stretch of road. We finally arrived at a half-full, dirt parking lot in the middle of nowhere with all four tires and our spare in tact. Other than the ten-second timer for a group picture, we spent no time unloading and setting off down the trail. 

For being so close in proximity (entrances and exits within a few hundred yards of each other) you couldn't find two more different slot canyons. Peekaboo Canyon is filled with arches and bowls, beautiful curves and wedged boulders. It requires a fair amount of acrobatics, both climbing and crawling, all on sandy surfaces. When we arrived at the canyon, we had to wait as other groups slowly navigated the first section of archways. Luckily, once we started, the group on our tail was quite slow allowing us ample time for pictures. Finally pushing out into a beautiful wash, we walked the short distance over to Spooky Canyon passing several hikers on the opposite rotation. It's important to note that the canyons are not one way, this makes for some up close and personal moments with complete strangers.

Spooky Canyon is snug; that's the best way to put it. The beginning (or the end depending on your direction) has beautiful sandstone walls that stretch high and offer ample shade. We took advantage of one of the shady outcroppings to pause for lunch. Seating was limited so I ended up on the cool sand of the canyon floor. I've spent a week on the beach every summer of my life, but I have never felt sand this smooth. It was silky and soft, and left my hands dry and stained a light sandstone orange. I loved it!

Steph on the entrance to Peekaboo.

Navigating the confines of Spooky.

From there, the remaining sections are filled with chokstones, narrow confines and uncomfortable encounters with people heading the other direction. Overall, the slot canyons were gorgeous but short-lived. If you're traveling from out of state I would add Devil's Garden and Bryce Canyon to the agenda.

Spooky Canyon is snug; that's the best way to put it. The beginning (or the end depending on your direction) has beautiful sandstone walls that stretch high and offer ample shade. We took advantage of one of the shady outcroppings to pause for lunch. Seating was limited so I ended up on the cool sand of the canyon floor. I've spent a week on the beach every summer of my life, but I have never felt sand this smooth. It was silky and soft, and left my hands dry and stained a light sandstone orange. I loved it!

Steph at Devil's Garden

From there, the remaining sections are filled with chokstones, narrow confines and uncomfortable encounters with people heading the other direction. Overall, the slot canyons were gorgeous but short-lived. If you're traveling from out of state I would add Devil's Garden and Bryce Canyon to the agenda.

ADVENTURE REPORTAGE OF CANYONEERING IN THE GRAND CANYON

Adventure? Blisters, thirst, heat, cold, and a 180-foot high waterfall. That pretty much sums up Deer Creek Canyon. And no adventure would be complete without some pain and discomfort and I got my fill on this trip. 

Trail to Deer Creek

SURPRISE VALLEY

Deer Creek Canyon sits at the bottom of the Grand Canyon and dumps water over a giant waterfall into the Colorado River. It’s truly a majestic site and a long hike in and out with limited water. We left a gallon of water near the Bill Hall sign on the valley floor and then headed off down the canyon with heavy packs in tow. We camped at Surprise Valley where the running joke was “Surprise, there’s nothing here!” The valley is barren with no water source, one tree, and blazing heat (my Camelback tube melted closed). From there, it was a long and heavy hike to and from the Deer Creek Canyon trailhead, but the fun was worth the hike. 

Bathroom

Surprise Valley

CANYONEERING

Considered sacred to Native Americans in the area, the canyon is now closed to canyoneers. Upon hearing this news, I felt fortunate to have been able to experience the thrill of the final rappel before it was listed off limits. The canyon is wet and cold (wetsuit required) and ends with a 180-foot rappel over a waterfall into a small pool that rests at the edge of the Colorado River. 

View from the canyon.

The 180' rappel.

GETTING OUT

We left for our car and the North Rim early in the morning to try and beat the heat. When you include the weight of wet ropes and wetsuits along with a camera and 1,400 additional feet of canyon wall any “adventure” quickly becomes a rugged test of endurance. In the end, the images made were worth the 16 blisters incurred.

View back up the Colorado River.

My entire group of images from this trip can be seen here. 

TRAVEL REPORTAGE FROM THE BP OIL SPILL AND GRAND ISLE LOUISIANA

TRAVEL_IMAGES_BP_OIL_SPILL.jpg

Every year my dad, my little brother, and I take a motorcycle trip somewhere down South. In 2010, we decided to trailer the bikes from Dallas to Louisiana and ride the coastal inlets and bayous of the Gulf of Mexico along to Grand Isle. As coincidence would have it, there was a little debacle that occurred just prior to our leaving, BP broke an oil pipeline. We debated canceling the trip, but ultimately decided to continue on and we ended up seeing some amazing things. 

Docked shrimping boat during the BP oil spill.

Idle shrimping nets during the BP oil spill.

SHRIMPING BOATS

All along the inland waterways were thousands of shrimping boats docked on account of the fact that fishing was forbidden. People were everywhere and every beach was closed. You could tell that the Louisiana natives were upset by the circumstances and there was a palpable feeling of anger. It was hot, fresh seafood was in short supply, and military personal had taken over the usual vacation rentals in order to clean up the mess.

BEACH CLOSED

One of the images I snapped that I felt captured the sentiment best was a plywood sign reading “Beach Closed.” Just below, in small letters, written in permanent marker were the words “You suck BP. Obama too.” I have since wondered if President Obama ever saw that sign. He visited Grand Isle just a handful of days after we road our bikes through. Even the local snow cone shack took up the fight with their two new flavors, “Tar Ball” and “Oil Spill.”

"Beach Closed" Sign