Tag Archives: nature

2009 Catch-up Part 5 (of 5): Surprise Canyon

2010 starts tomorrow and I haven’t finished posting about 2009. The last few months have been a blur of activity and compositing so Live Journal updates have suffered. Fear not, my three readers, a flurry of updates has arrived!

After finishing the Zion Narrows, I knew I wanted to do another exciting backpacking trip over the Thanksgiving holidays. The tricky part would be finding a good hike that was passable in late fall, a bit strenuous, and not especially far from Los Angeles. I searched online and through a backpacking book and settled on Surprise Canyon. Surprise Canyon is in the middle of nowhere. If you find yourself nowhere, keep driving, you aren’t there yet. Technically, it is in Inyo County on the Western outer-rim of Death Valley National Park. It is in the desert, long past a town called Trona—a place we drove through twice, yet never saw a single person, only smoke pouring from the Salt Plant into the Sulphur-soaked air. Deep into the desert are the remains of a town called Ballarat. All that remains here is an abandoned jail-house and a somewhat functioning “general store” manned by the sole inhabitant of Ballarat. And lots of RVs and ATVs. Be careful in Surprise Canyon, help is hours away.

Surprise Canyon is aptly named. After driving deep into a dry, dusty desert and two miles up a tricky gravel path—leading into the mountains and ending at a burnt-down shack—you never expect to see a lush canyon full of running water. This is the beauty of Surprise Canyon—a hike up a flowing river that takes you to Panamint City, an abandoned mining town.

Panamint City doesn’t come easily. It must be earned. The hike up the canyon is short, only 5-6 miles, but it is a strenuous hike for all except the seasoned hiker. The first portion involves non-technical canyoneering as you climb beautiful waterfalls and verdant rocks. Shortly afterwards, the bushwhacking begins. This canyon is predominantly on BLM land meaning it doesn’t receive the attention a National Park does. The canyon is highly overgrown. Brush which allegedly was cleared a few years ago is now far above a human’s height. We traveled upstream and forced our way through the foliage as the slope increased. Once the bushwhacking portion ends, the climb begins. The slope increases greatly and the stream disappears. Panamint City rests 6300 feet above sea level. Much of the 4000 foot climb takes place over these last two miles. It is a tough climb if your legs are not trained or ready for it—especially when you are carrying 30-40 lbs. on your back. November is a month of limited light. Canyon walls are high. By 5:00 P.M., it was growing dark rapidly and we still had not seen the enormous smokestack marking the city. We set up camp and prepared for a cold night.

The Story Continues + Plenty More Pictures

2009 Catch-up Part 4 (of 5): Black Canyon

2010 starts tomorrow and I haven’t finished posting about 2009. The last few months have been a blur of activity and compositing so Live Journal updates have suffered. Fear not, my three readers, a flurry of updates has arrived!

Karl, of Extreme Things, has many connections in the outdoor community and because of this is able to put together events that are fun and inexpensive. In late November, a group of us headed into Nevada to canoe a stretch of river beneath the Hoover Dam called Black Canyon. We were led downstream by an older man named Terry who was in superior shape to anyone in our group. We camped in the canyon and made several side quests: Sauna Cave, waterfalls, natural hot springs, lots of non-technical canyoneering, and hiking. We even time-traveled. One side of the canyon placed us in Nevada and the Pacific Time Zone. The other bank placed us in Arizona and the Mountain Time Zone. The Sunset over the Canyon was among the most beautiful I’ve seen.

Lots More Canoeing Goodness

In the Words of Teddy

Said in reference to the Grand Canyon, but an apt blanket statement for wilderness in general:

In the Grand Canyon, Arizona has a natural wonder which is in kind absolutely unparalleled throughout the rest of the world. I want to ask you to keep this great wonder of nature as it now is. I hope you will not have a building of any kind, not a summer cottage, a hotel or anything else, to mar the wonderful grandeur, the sublimity, the great loneliness and beauty of the canyon. Leave it as it is. You cannot improve on it. The ages have been at work on it, and man can only mar it.

-Theodore Roosevelt

Hiking the Narrows

Occasionally, I look through travel books or magazines searching for ideas. There are often photos of beautiful locales and listings for resorts, expensive hotels, eateries, and other aspects of luxury travel. I can’t generally afford luxury travel and I am not a big fan of pretending to be a member of the bourgeoisie with servants dancing around me. Earlier in the year, I stumbled across two books catering specifically to adventure travel—trips where you learn about yourself and get dirty. Thanks to The Rough Guide to Ultimate Adventures I was informed of something I never suspected—there are many reasons to visit Utah.

Slot Canyons, deep and narrow gorges, abound in Utah. They are spectacular. My Rough Guide highlighted one in particular—The Zion Narrows in Zion National Park. The itinerary: hike 16 miles (mostly in a shallow river) through the Zion backcountry within the confines of a slot canyon over the course of 2 days. The particulars: The Narrows were formed by the Virgin River. Over the 16 miles we’d be walking through it, its depth would range from ankle deep to waist deep with the occasional hole requiring swimming. Water flow would vary from mostly stagnant to somewhat powerful swiftwater. When not in the water, the hike includes a lot of rock hopping and scrambling. The walls of the canyon often rise over a thousand feet on either side. Nearby rain can cause flash floods (a few occur each year) so the weather must be monitored preceding and during the hike. Once inside the canyon, you must commit. Hiking is your only feasible way out as rescue is relatively difficult and time-consuming. I love climbing and scrambling. I love water (especially moving water). When water and climbing are combined, I am truly happy. From the moment I read about the Narrows in the Rough Guide, I knew I had to go.

Zion is a 7-10 hour drive from L.A. greatly dependent on traffic running through Las Vegas. Erika and I did a number of things this year, but visiting Zion had not fit into any of our plans conveniently. As fall approached, it became clear that our chances to hike the Narrows were dwindling. The waters would grow colder and dry suits (not just wet suits) would be required. Erika is not made for the cold. Labor Day weekend was our last hope. I logged onto the National Park Service website a month prior. Only 40 people are allowed through the Narrows each day as overnight hikers. Luckily I was able to reserve the last four spots for Sunday, Sept. 6 at Camp 2. Thankfully, our posse was only four people: Erika, Al-Insan, Steven, and me. Now, we just needed to wait for the weeks to pass.

The Adventure Begins Here + More Photos

Crystal Cove

Saturday, Erika and I tried to go snorkeling in Crystal Cove. The waters have been rough lately and this still seems to be the case. The undertow was extremely strong and the breaks were equally powerful. We thought it unwise to swim out to try to snorkel. Instead we played in the shallows and explored the beaches and coves. It’s a beautiful place.

More Photos

Perseids

In the late 80s, as a child, I had a subscription to a children’s science magazine called Odyssey. I would read it cover-to-cover and especially enjoyed the astronomy articles. One issue referenced a coming meteor shower and gave times for viewing it. I eagerly awaited the coming of the meteors. I awoke early on the proper Saturday, somewhere around 3:30 or 4:00 A.M. I made my way into the dew-covered backyard and laid out a lawn chair. For a long while I laid there staring into the dark morning sky waiting for the stars to fall. I was alone in the dark yard surrounded by the sounds of the night creatures—the frogs, the crickets, the various noises from the nearby woods. I watched and waited. No star ever fell. Later I would discover the times listed in my magazine were intended for a different time-zone. Over 20 years later, and I had still never seen a meteor shower. Sure, I’d seen numerous falling and shooting stars—small white flashes jetting across the sky—but never the main event.

Last Wednesday night, Erika and I drove up into the Angeles Crest mountains to watch the Perseids. The real flurry of meteors was alleged to show in the wee hours of the morning, but flashy precursors were supposed to appear as early as 11:00 P.M. (proper time-zone this time). We laid atop my car and then upon the ground watching the sky and often shielding our eyes from frequent passing headlights (the excitement of the coming shower had made the highway through the mountains oddly popular) for nearly an hour. We saw over a dozen. They were spectacular—large varicolored spears of light shot across the sky every few minutes. Occasionally one would appear suddenly off to one side illuminating my peripheral vision. Some would be gone in an instant, others would trail through the sky for a few seconds fading slowly into the night. My disappointment as a child was rectified.

We also saw an adorable fox run past into the overgrowth.

Certifiable

As of the afternoon of Saturday, August 15th, Erika and I are PADI certified Open Water divers. Essentially that means we can go dive anywhere that doesn’t require specialty diving skills or depths below 60 feet. Learning to SCUBA dive has also made me feel more comfortable snorkeling and wearing masks that encase my nose. Years of sinus problems have made me especially touchy whenever I feel my breathing is hampered. Forcing myself to learn to dive has alleviated much of that.

Our three certification dives took place in the waters near Catalina Island—specifically Lulu’s Reef and Big Giger. Our first dive was the most interesting. There were only four of us and we dove through a labyrinthine kelp forest descending down to 49 feet. As we made our way down the anchor line, the kelp parted like a doorway letting us into an undersea world. Between the three dives we spent an hour underwater, mostly demonstrating skills necessary to receive our certification. It was fun, but I really look forward to a day when we can spend all of our time underwater exploring.

During the trip back to shore, our boat was often flanked by pods of dolphins racing alongside. Over a dozen dolphins would swim just beneath the bow, then leap into the air and shoot ahead into the ocean. There were times they would breach and be merely several feet from my awestruck face.

More Undersea Photos Here

Hiking Malibu Shores

In June, Karl of Extreme Things brought us on a short hike down the rocky shores of Western Malibu. We started at Matador Beach and made our way to Leo Carrillo. There were tidepools, coves, crags, and creatures. After the hike we lounged in the sand, explored the rocky coves, and toyed with some very friendly squirrels.

2 More Photos Here

Annual Summer Catch-up

I have stumbled upon a trend. Every year, my sporadically updated journal seems to hit an extended period of quiet where I am keeping busy, but have no desire to log it. Then I appear seemingly from nowhere and unleash a deluge of updates. Well, kiddies, it’s that time of year again!

After returning from Yosemite, May was relatively quiet. I went on a few fun rock-and-water-focused hikes, learned to make fire various primitive ways, and released the last few Moodoo Moments episodes online. The end of May brought the beginning of two ongoing adventures I’ll post about in future updates: the shooting of Silver Moon (a Western by Travis Stevens) and the medical probing of my esophagus in hopes of curing my lifelong swallowing problems.

June brought 3 weekends of Silver Moon shoots, further esophageal study, and a really cool hike down the rocky shores of Northwestern Malibu beaches. The fourth week of the month was dedicated to socializing with my parents and two nieces while they vacationed here in Los Angeles. Theme Parks, Outdoor Parks, Eateries, Theme Parks, Erika’s birthday, Chloe’s birthday, Dining with Erika’s family, and Theme Parks. It was a busy and fun week.

July began with a camera attached to a long tube exploring my throat quickly followed by a trip to Kernville. Whitewater Rafting and Whitewater Kayaking in one weekend (more on that later). The following weekend brought us to Bell where we helped Erika’s sister sell assorted dishes and desserts as part of a fund-raising event. And so, we arrive at today.

Sport Chalet offers a free introductory SCUBA class once a month. Erika and I checked it out. My one great irrational phobia is suffocation. This leads to claustrophobia at times—something I have had to push through in a few tight mine caves—and great unease when my breathing is obstructed in any manner. I have had difficulty with snorkeling in the past because of the way the goggles cover my nose. I knew this would be a problem today, but I was not going to let it deter me. We were introduced to the basics of SCUBA diving in the shallow end of a diving pool. It took me a bit longer than Erika, but I was able to acclimate myself to the nose-constricting face mask and the odd breathing apparatus. After toying around in the deep end a few times, we signed up for SCUBA lessons. Hopefully, we’ll be certified ocean divers by the end of the summer.

Over the next few days, I’ll post new entries about Silver Moon, Kernville, the Malibu hike, my medical misadventures, and my visiting family.