It’s a Small House After All

This year, Jason and I planned our 20th Halloween party together. After two decades, even unexpected blasts couldn’t undermine our eternal rest. Here’s how we made our crypt doors extra creaky.

a boney brunch
Make no bones about it, tea and titters go together like the tibia and fibula.

Our theme this time was Disney’s Haunted Mansion, which is celebrating its 50th anniversary in Disneyland this year. The décor, crafts, and party favors were all geared toward this morbid motif. Even our catering, San Diablo Churros, was a nod to the ride. There is, after all, a churro stand right outside the Haunted Mansion in Disneyland.

hitchhiking haunts
Now I will raise the safety bar, and a ghost will follow you home.

As usual, our preparations for this event started early in the fall. We began working on our 81-item to-do list sometime in August. A portion of our prizes, decorations, and costume accessories arrived by mail. In total, we received 54 packages filled with party supplies. You’re welcome UPS.

phantom favors
The hotchpotch of party favors this year included jewelry, books, plants, candles, and chocolate-filled coffins.

As with any large event, our party is always accompanied by unforeseen complications that have to be handled at the last minute. This year, they came in a bluster. We bought a 10×15 tent to house the catering and provide extra room for our guests. We rented space heaters to keep this area cozy and borrowed tables to make it perfect for chowing. But our tent endeavors were ill-fated. The wind picked up to 24 MPH with gusts over 36 MPH just hours before our party commenced. No canvas was holding that at bay. We had to disassemble the tent about an hour before the party and move San Diablo Churros into our already crowded kitchen. The graveyard Jason had cleverly constructed in the backyard didn’t get appreciated due to those gusts… or stay entirely upright.

It's a spine-chilling world.
What ride is this?

Since the weather impeded most attendees from venturing into our yard, the body count inside our house exceeded any previous year by a dozen or two. Although not quite 999 happy haunts, somehow we fit over 100 humans in our home. I wouldn’t say there was room for one more though.

Sabin Manor
Welcome, foolish mortals.
flickers and hitchhikers
We added touches to our decor from the ride like stretching pictures, hitchhiking ghosts, and lots of candles.

It was my turn to choose our costumes this year. I decided to go with something theme-related, and Jason and I came as the Dutch boy and girl from the It’s a Small World ride. Our costumes were a little heavy on both ends. My wig incorporated nearly a full pound of yarn, and our clunky wooden shoes felt as solid as tree trunks. We were committed to our costumes though, so we wore those shoes all night. Incidentally, I would not recommend hosting a party stretched over two entire floors of a house while wearing wooden clogs. My right foot was swollen on top for days despite my makeshift fabric wraps, and two of my toes are still healing from the arboreal rubbing they received. At least our cheery costumes provided colorful contrast to the stark monochromatic motif. Jason even convinced forty or fifty of our attendees to sing “It’s a Small World” to me. Maybe because it’s a world of laughter.

an underappreciated plot
Jason’s graveyard got gusts not guests.

There were five craft options this year including portrait chamber bookmarks, ghostly couture bracelets and earrings, and spiderweb wreaths. Thankfully, craft ideas befitting our theme were rather scarce, which saved me from an insufferable but irresistible craft overload.

flight of fright
The interior of coffins inspired this flight.

The party favors required less assembly this year, but buying and putting over 90 of them together still felt like it might take me until the afterlife. Did they all hitchhike to new homes? All but one of the kid bags were taken, but about 20 adult/teenager favors remained. Why so many extras? I had no idea which options would be most popular, so I filled a few supplemental coffins.

chocolate-coated grins
Big smiles and chocolate-smeared faces are common apparitions at our bash.

We had more help this year than ever. What a difference it made! With four decorating sessions and two undecorating ones, putting up and putting away everything was much more manageable and fun. Plus, an adult volunteered for kitchen duty during the event and several helped tidy up the sticky scourge afterward. To all our helpers, thank you! Your assistance not only sped up the process tremendously but bolstered our expired spirits.

coffins and creepies
Delightfully unlivable?

Despite the meddling wind, our party was a swinging wake after all. The Haunted Mansion can accommodate 2,100 guests per hour. Our mansion, apparently, can accommodate 100 guests per evening. That’s more than we thought. And the smell of churros lingered long after the stickiness subsided. I guess that’s about as much as you can hope for with any hosting undertaking.

The Culture and Clefts of Southern Utah

Members of my family have participated in a canyoneering adventure every summer for a few years now. I suppose it has become a bit of a squelchy tradition. This year, we did not one but two slot canyons, plus threw in a coupe plays, some cliffs, and a little non-soggy climbing. We shoved it all into one packed weekend in Southern Utah.

our gap group
All ages and fitness levels were represented in our group.
a simple slot
Though not particularly technical or overwhelmingly wet, Kanarra Canyon still provides a touch of adventure.

Kanarra Canyon, which is located just outside Cedar City, was the first slot on our agenda. You can’t go to Cedar City in the summer without going to the Utah Shakespearean Festival; it is technically impossible. If you don’t believe me, look it up. Instead of trying to pull a Don Quixote and fight the impossible, we went to two plays before doing any canyoneering. The first was the best version of Hamlet I’ve ever seen, featuring Quinn Mattfeld. We also partook of the flashy silliness that is Joseph and the Amazing Technicolor Dreamcoat. Its catchy tunes got stuck in my head like always. Go, go, go Joe!

Kanarraville Falls
You’ve probably seen this scene a dozen times on Instagram, but this picture is totally different because it was taken by me.
the majesty of insignificance
Slot canyons have a way of making you feel like an insignificant insect lost in a damp crevice.

The following day, we went on to Kanarra Canyon. During the last 15 years, social media nearly spoiled this hike with its pictures and praises. Kanarraville’s 350 residents couldn’t shoulder the 40,000 visitors that trudged through their canyon and water source in 2015. Hence, the number of permits is now limited to 150 per day. The trail felt a little crowded with just that many; I can’t imagine how it would have been with 10 times more. Like waiting in the line at Space Mountain? The temperatures oscillated between too hot at our outset to too cold as the canyon deepened and tapered, but we were easily distracted from this discomfort by the lofty walls and idyllic stream. Even the youngest among us managed the terrain, yet it still felt like an adventure.

cascading obstacles
The trail through Kanarra Canyon crosses a series of waterfalls, some of them simpler to ascend than others.
pond scum
This seemed like a closed-mouth sort of pond.

After Kanarra Canyon, we traveled to Zion National Park. There, the brave cooled off in a pool along the Lower Pine Creek Waterfall Trail the speedy way, i.e. cliff jumping. Afterward, we had just enough time to finish the short one-mile Canyon Overlook Trail before it got dark.

slender puddles
This notch looked too tiny for cliff jumping, but no injuries resulted.
jump drama
As jumpers’ comfort levels increased, so did their theatrics.

The next morning, my sister and I stayed with a nephew too young to obtain maternal approval to descend through Keyhole Canyon while the rest of the group… obviously, they went through Keyhole Canyon. Keyhole Canyon is reasonably short, about one mile, and unreasonably slim. Pictures alone are enough to make the claustrophobic panic. Those that went described the stagnant water they had to wade through as putrid and black in places, especially at the top of the canyon. We are talking a Death-Star-trash-compactor level of repulsive here. On the flip side, they said the light filtering through the crimsons of the Navajo sandstone looked like a subterranean sunset. The group had to do three rappels and completed the canyon in three hours. In the meantime, my sister and I completed some window shopping and snack consumption with the little guy.

Keyhole Canyon
Keyhole Canyon is not much larger than a keyhole in some spots.
tight yet tasteful
Wetsuits seem designed to make their wearers appear dorky, but Jason looks rather fine in one.

Our weekend in Southern Utah was crammed with culture, cliffs, canyons, and claustrophobia via Kanarraville and Keyhole. At least it didn’t also include giardia or broken bones because those wouldn’t have sounded right in my last sentence.

Naturalist Basin

Hiking is an active pleasure that some prefer to forego. After all, it is just a repetitive act of putting one foot before the other over and over and over again. Yet, there is a certain splendor in that simplicity and a definite splendor in the places your feet can take you. A segment of my family planned a backpacking trip in the Uintas this summer. Somehow, that turned into an all-day hike to Naturalist Basin, which is certainly a spot of splendor. This is the tale of that trek.

Murdock's remains
The Murdock Fire burned for about two months last fall consuming over 5,000 acres.

Naturalist Basin, which is located in the High Uintas, is a favorite amongst both Boy Scouts and bigger explorers. It features over a dozen lakes and countless alpine meadows bounded by the jagged ridgelines of Mount Agassiz and Spread Eagle Peak. Hence, its popularity makes perfect sense.

scorched and scaled
With shimmering scales, the trunks of scorched pines looked like they belonged in some gloomy sea.

Due to circumstances beyond my control, I only got three hours of sleep the night before our long hike. I was up at 3:30, a bit earlier than what was required for our 6:00 AM meetup. Still, Jason and I were prepared and nearly on time. Even the rain that wetted our drive, and hinted that much more would be forthcoming, didn’t diminish our eagerness for discovering what was around the corner… or mountain.

shoots over cinders
In the midst of blackened ash, life returns.
strange streams
It seemed strange to find a stream winding cheerfully through the fire’s devastation.

The Highline Trail starts at 10,350 ft. It descends for a bit before climbing again as it nears Naturalist Basin. We started our hike at 8:40 AM and finished it about 7:00 PM. That’s over 10 hours of hiking for those of you having difficulty with the math. In those 10 hours, we followed the Highline Trail past Jordan Lake to Shaler Lake, a total of 12.8 miles.

Naturalist Basin
Naturalist Basin is considered by many to be one of the prettiest spots in the High Uintas. You can see why.

Roughly three miles into our trek we crossed the singed ghost of a forest. A large section of the wilderness near Scudder Lake was burned by the Murdock Fire last fall. For over a mile, we hiked through a landscape literally enveloped in blackness. The contorted remains of pines and spruce scrutinized our advance like iridescent specters. Although destruction and demise echoed on those hillsides, green shoots were already starting to push through the charred earth. It was both heartbreaking and beautiful.

Jordan Lake
Jordan Lake is the largest lake in Naturalist Basin.

Jordan Lake, the largest and most popular lake in Naturalist Basin, provided our lunch spot. From its elevation of 10,630 feet, we ascended another 350 to the upper portion of the basin. Although that difference in altitude seems insignificant from a human perspective, not so for plants. The timberline fell away from us as we topped the upper basin. It might as well have been another planet.

the lower from 11,000
From the comparatively-barren ground of the upper basin, the lower basin appeared spectacularly lush.

As I already mentioned, Naturalist Basin has a reputation for being a little too popular for its own good, but we didn’t encounter the steady line of people moving up and down the mountain we thought we would. The threat of rain persisted the entire day, so perhaps the populace’s general aversion to being soggy at 10,000+ feet did us a real solid. Showers were forecasted, and we were prepared for a drenching. Instead, we got cool, cloudy weather and a nice breeze with nothing more saturating than occasional sprinkles. We did have to remove and replace layers rather frequently though… too bad I didn’t remove and replace my socks. I had an allergic reaction to them but didn’t realize it until after we were done hiking. By that point, I had a substantial rash. That’s a new one.

Shaler Lake
Shaler Lake is one of five lakes dotting the upper portion of Naturalist Basin.

Those in our group were rather tired after about 10 miles. The differences in the children’s reactions to this fatigue were fairly comical. Some outpaced the group and didn’t complain once. Others grumbled frequently about issues that were easily fixable. As in, whining about being cold instead of just putting on the jacket wrapped around your waist. For the kids in the latter category, bathroom breaks became a way of resting in the woods beyond the eyesight of adults that would urge them on. Still, all protests were halted by a meal at Hi-Mountain Burger in Kamas on our way home. Maybe it was the 13 miles talking, but that burger was one of the best I’ve tasted in a long time.

tired out trekkers
Our crew’s energy plunged to a disheartening low about three miles before the completion of our hike.

Naturalist Basin was gorgeous. My super useful tip for those planning on visiting it? Wait until Mother Nature is all grumbly and ready to rain havoc. Then, convince her to reconsider. That way, you will be able to enjoy it with just the hardiest, or most unwise, of hikers.