Just Joshing You Part I

There comes a time in every pandemic, or maybe 10 times, when you need to get out of the house. In January, Jason and I reached another one of those gotta-get-out moments. Luckily, we already had a plan to get out to two national parks, one of which we had never visited. Here’s how our indispensable travels to the Joshua Tree and Zion National Parks led to the greatest possible happiness one can receive from roaming a couple national parks during winter in the middle of a pandemic.

observing The Watchman
The Watchman looks out 2,600 feet from the base of Zion Canyon.

While Joshua Tree National Park, a new location for us, was the main focus of our trip, we thought we might as well break up our long drive with a couple nights in Zion National Park. It was our first time in Zion in January, so we weren’t sure what to expect… until the weather forecast told us we should expect bad things. The wind was supposed to remain an unsettled 20-22 mph during our stay. Determined hikers + strong gusts + temperatures in the low forties = an infallible method for making rambling popsicles. Fortunately, we didn’t become an ingredient in that recipe thanks to a slide.

Lower Emerald Pool
The water sprinkling over Lower Emerald Pool’s alcove was barely a trickle.

We hiked the Sand Bench Loop, which is 3.6 miles long starting from The Court of the Patriarchs and meanders on top of a massive 2,000-year-old landslide. We encountered virtually no breeze for most of our trek, even though the wind was whizzing outside Zion Canyon. Goodbye 20-22 mph; hello blocking rocks strategically placed 250 million years ago! Apparently, this trail doesn’t get much love except from those taking it on horseback, but we thought the views of The Patriarchs, the rock formations across the canyon, and the valley below The Watchman were striking. Also, we only saw five or six groups during our whole trek, and nothing makes an outlook more appealing than a lack of people.

the Grafton schoolhouse
Grafton’s schoolhouse was built in 1886 and also served as a church.

Afterward, we had just enough daylight, or nearly enough, to hike to the Lower Emerald Pool, which is an easy stroll at just over a mile. This trail had recently reopened after a year-long closure to perform some routine repairs; floods and rainstorms regularly damage this swath of Zion. While this path had more occupants than Sand Bench, compared to its usual masses, it was practically deserted.

the Alonzo H. Russell home
With a backdrop like that, it’s easy to see why Grafton is the most photographed ghost town in the West.

On our way out of the area the next day, we stopped at Grafton, a nearby ghost town. It was settled in 1847 and deserted in 1945. Like its inhabitants, we thought we could make this a quick stop… a few hours later we finally made it back on the road. Please note, I am not responsible for the seductive and engrossing nature of historical information.

Grafton Cemetery
Grafton Cemetery, the final resting place of up to 84 of its townsfolk, tells the story of a challenging existence. In 1866, 13 residents died, almost 10% of the settlement’s population, due to diphtheria, conflicts with Natives, and a broken tree swing.

Next week, or sometime thereafter, I will divulge the details of the second part of our journey. It boulder be good!

Shoes and the Dance

For a number of years, our Christmas gifts to our nieces and nephews have been experiences rather than things. Usually, these experiences are Christmas break activities that bring the family together and out of that post-holiday stupor. This year, with COVID proliferating we weren’t sure we would be able to assemble. Fortunately, creative problem solving is one of my everlasting compulsions, and with a little of that an answer presented itself in the form of some traditional winter weight distribution, aka snowshoeing at Sundance Resort. That wasn’t the only predicament that had to be cracked to bring about the outing that would bring my family together. Let us talk of leisure problems and inconsequential solutions.

Shortly after I recognized the situational suitability of snowshoeing, I realized the kids would all need snowshoes. In the consumer-driven shopping hubs of America, you’d think finding a handful of snowshoes would be an easy task. Yes, supply and demand balance perfectly as the invisible hand directs the recreational free market system. Unless a pandemic throws that equilibrium into chaos because trees can’t give you COVID. My “creative” idea proved common, so finding snowshoes was tricky. After searching numerous stores and websites, Jason and I were able to find enough pairs for all the kiddos. One more problem solved, others to go.

Elk Meadows
Do you want to build a snowman?

After acquiring the shoes for snowshoeing, the snow part proved difficult. We chose to gather during Christmas break even with a powder scarcity. I thought we might be sludge shoeing in the meager 13 inches available, but the coverage was better than I anticipated. There were only a couple spots where the ground was bare, and the dirt in those sections was too frozen to be muddy. Yes, yet another obstacle surmounted.

making it to the meadow
The group almost gave up just minutes from this scenic spot.

The last issue was the diverse sentiments of the kids regarding snowshoeing. This particular dilemma existed due to the endeavor’s exercise requirement. There were some complaints and subsequent bribes resolved those concerns. However, most of the youngsters needed no payoffs to have a good time.

Stewart Falls
Stewart Falls’ tumbles were a stilled filigree on the hillside.

Due to the absence of snow, not all the trails at Sundance were open, but considering the limited gumption of the group, what was available was more than plenty. With a little pushing, we made it to Honeymoon Meadows where lovely views of Timpanogos and a frozen Stewart Falls encircled us.

Honeymoon Meadows
I’d honeymoon in any meadow with this boy.

Unlike a subset of the children, Jason and I loved clomping through the aspens. So, a few days later, on New Year’s Day, we returned to Sundance to clomp under the full moon. Brr!! The straw in my CamelBak froze as we trekked along in 15 degrees, but we managed to stay liquid.

the full experience
Snowshoeing under the full moon takes a little sense of adventure and a lot of layers.

I’m grateful we were still able to gather the family through a slightly-less-snowy-than-ideal adventure even with the restrictions of COVID life. Just about any problem can be solved with some resourcefulness and prolific snacks.

Typically Magical

Christmas is supposed to be magical. Often, it is just typical. For us, last December’s festivities were a little of both.

What was typical about 2020’s Christmas? Jason and I opened presents from each other in our usual fashion, though perhaps a bit earlier than normal. In our drawn-out process, every item is played with, discussed, tried on, laughed at, etc. Jason and I also made beef bourguignon together. We often scavenge for enough moments to make this special dish during the holidays and have succeeded on enough occasions to justify its placement here in the typical category.

the unavoidable benefits of climate collapse
Hiking on Christmas day? Magical or apocalyptical?

That brings me to the magical. What was magical about 2020’s Christmas? Time. Without a multitude of family happenings, Jason and I had enough time to make breakfast together and go on an afternoon hike. I’m not sure if a hike on Christmas should be considered magical or simply a manifestation of climate mayhem, but we enjoyed it either way.

The Silence of the Yams
It puts the icing on.

While we didn’t have present-opening extravaganzas with family members, we did have chaotic Google video chats and gift unveils. Technology is pretty magical even if its trendy offspring, tumultuous virtual conversations, are sometimes less so. Therefore, with reservations, I’m placing these digital gatherings in the magical category.

kooky cookies
We created many film-inspired cookies proving delicious and appetizing aren’t necessarily synonymous.

Those few dull paragraphs sum up what was a delightful Christmas. Maybe magical would be a stretch, but it was ordinarily and abnormally wonderful.