Falls and Flats

While visions of sugarplums dance in others’ heads, wouldn’t you rather be on a mountaintop instead? Although the subject may not be trendy this time of year, let’s talk hiking. Beautiful views, pumping blood, and agreeable company all make hiking a worthwhile endeavor. This summer and fall, Jason and I took a few miscellaneous trips into the mountains for all of the above reasons. My recounts of those adventures are not likely to get your blood pumping, but they may settle your brain for a long winter’s nap.

In addition to our outing in the High Uintas in July, we hiked the Little Cottonwood Trail to Lisa Falls in June. In September, we trekked the Solitude Lake to Twin Lakes Loop up Big Cottonwood Canyon and the path from Horse Flat to the Primrose Overlook in American Fork Canyon. How were these trails? Scan on sleepy reader.

Lisa Falls
Lisa Falls is a unique sideways-tumbling cascade.

The Little Cottonwood Trail starts near the mouth of Little Cottonwood Canyon. Although we went on a pleasant June day, we roasted the first half mile or so. This path probably shouldn’t be a first pick during July or August for anyone not keen on saunas. We connected with the Lisa Falls Trail and walked its 0.3 miles to the cascade. The Lisa Falls Trail, due to its short duration and ease of access, is not a place to find seclusion. Still, the falls are worth a little gridlock, I think.

falls not falling
Not falling at falls can be difficult. Some of the kids clambered up the sheer boulders behind the falls, and Jason had to help them down safely.

In the middle of September, we took advantage of some cooperative fall weather and a visiting sister to hit the Solitude Lake to Twin Lakes Loop. The 3.8 miles required to circle Solitude Lake and Twin Lakes were quite satisfying with enjoyable temperatures and chats about life. The crowds dwindled but did not entirely disappear as we ascended. Incidentally, Twin Lakes seemed to only be one body of water, so I’m not sure how it acquired its name.

Twin Lakes
Is that one lake Twin Lakes?

A couple weeks later, Jason and I traversed the path from Horse Flat to the Primrose Overlook and back through a loop utilizing the Lame Horse Trail. This totaled 3.6 miles. The leaves weren’t changing even though it was near the end of September. Yet, my double jackets reminded me of summer’s absence. Nearly every group we came across had a dog or two with them. Are canine companions not merely optional now?

Primrose Overlook
In all our wanderings, somehow Jason and I had never made it to the Primrose Overlook before.

While candy canes and dashing reindeer may be the talk of the town, visions of boisterous streams and fragrant breezes still fill my head. The grass is greener on that side. Happy Christmas to all, and to all a good hike!

Caves, Coves, and Conifers

When you’ve taken a bunch of trips in quick succession, why not take another? Traveling to the Northwest has become a bit of a yearly tradition in my family, a ritual that continued this fall. This time, new members joined us, and like scenic meth, after just one time they might be hooked.

sun and sand
The sun can be an infrequent sight in parts of Oregon, but we encountered it in all its coral splendor.

On this occasion, we stayed in Brookings, which is just over the Oregon border from California. It’s home to over 6,000 people and many more crabs. Brookings is in Oregon’s banana belt, a portion of the state’s coast that experiences more sunshine and warmer temperatures than surrounding areas. Tropical shores ahoy! We rented a beach house that could accommodate our large group, which was situated on a cove pebbled with some of the most brightly colored beach stones I’ve encountered.

Oregon Caves
The entrance to Oregon Caves is just an unassuming gap in the rocks.

We didn’t spend our first day walking on the shoreline though but crawling into the ground. A portion of our group drove about two hours inland to visit Oregon Caves National Monument. Oregon Caves was created by acidic water trickling through marble. It is one of only a few marble caves found in the United States. How often do you get to wander marble halls 220 feet inside a mountain? Yes, yes, I know subterranean marble chambers are old news to you dwarfs; no need to brag. We did an hour and a half tour of the cave that involved 500 stairs and 15,000 feet of passageways.

a binary bend
This double arch leads a double life, filling and emptying regularly.
high and dry
A different time of day, a different time of tide.

Since it was late in the fall, bats were starting to inhabit the cave in preparation for hibernation. We came across a few of those small and fluffy slumberers; they looked like snugglers not suckers.

The Ghost Room was the largest room we visited inside the cave. Although it extended several impressive stories, my favorite chamber was Paradise Lost with its flowstone drapery formations. It’s not often you find paradise in a dark, drippy cavern.

prehistoric titans
Redwoods can live up to 2,000 years and reach over 350 feet.

After a day inside the Earth, we decided to get a view of its upper decks by exploring the redwoods. Redwoods can be found not just in Redwoods National Park but also a series of state parks along the coast co-operated by the National Park Service. We traveled to one of these, Jedediah Smith Redwoods State Park. There, we walked through Stout Memorial Grove and the connecting loops of the Simpson Reed Grove and Peterson Memorial Trails. These are short paths, but we moved so slow while peeping into holes and examining bark that those hikes took us from about 11:00 AM to around 5:00 PM. I won’t reveal our total mileage or calculate our MPH; it would just be depressing. While not far from each other, the two groves appeared quite different. Any gaps in the redwoods at the Simpson/Peterson area are filled with undergrowth trees while the ground at Stout is only occupied by sparse ferns due to regular flooding. Those distinctions were a graphic reminder that even the loftiest trees are still just pieces of complex ecosystems.

Stout Memorial Grove
Jedediah Smith Redwoods State Park safeguards 10,000 acres of first-growth redwoods.
petite toadstools
The redwoods aren’t the only absorbing feature in their groves.

Our last day in Oregon, we took everything at a banana slug’s pace. A group of us walked to the beach to investigate a double sea arch as the tide was out and ended up exploring tidepools and rocks for an hour and a half. We saw a Dungeness crab, a purple shore crab, lots of hermit crabs, anemones, and something that looked like a sea cucumber.

nature's skyscrapers
Redwoods can grow the height of a 35-story skyscraper. That’s close to the size of the tallest building in Utah.

After our extended time on the shore, we went shopping at a local antique store where we bought rings, military medals, and even a pipe… which we did not use for smoking anything in Oregon. We finished off the day and trip with a visit to Harris Beach State Park where mist turned Arch Rock and sandy stretches into mysterious silhouettes and enigmatic strands.

a circular assortment
Our rented house was nestled in a quiet cove strewn with a mix of rounded stones.

One advantage, and sometimes disadvantage, of traveling with family is a shortage of dull moments. In between all our sightseeing activities, we spent our evenings eating fish and playing poker. My dad gave the younger kids an introduction to poker, which went fairly well. I wouldn’t set them loose in Vegas though. Incidentally, for a small town, Brookings has some excellent seafood establishments.

Harris Beach State Park
Fog couldn’t obscure the kids’ enthusiasm for sand and sea.
Where's Jason?
Can you find Jason’s head?

Was Oregon’s banana belt all that a banana belt should be? We experienced equal proportions of mist and sunshine; that’s pretty decent for a coastline known for its foggy demeanor. Fruity vacations may be the way to go. I hear Delta’s kumquat belt is amazing.

Salty from Dusk to Dawn

You’ve always wanted to run all night, right? How about running all night on a shell of salt up to five feet thick? I bet you’ve always wanted to do that too. Jason and I signed up for the Dusk to Dawn Relay, a race that literally goes from dusk to dawn on the Bonneville Salt Flats, and convinced six friends to get salty with us. I’m so glad we did.

Earth?
The Salt Flats don’t look like they belong on planet Earth.

The Bonneville Salt Flats are 30,000 acres west of the Great Salt Lake covered in densely packed salt. The race was held on the Bonneville Speedway, a section of the Bonneville Salt Flats so level and hard that it has been used to set land speed records since 1935. We totally broke a few that night. (Obviously, I am kidding.)

The Salty Sprinters
Thanks Stacey Marble for this fun picture of The Salty Sprinters.

The race commenced at 8:11 PM and ended at 7:01 AM. Over almost 11 hours, our eight-person team did 35 laps on a 1.71-mile loop and finished in third place. Not too bad for a group in it to… just run around a bunch and have a good time.

Ready, set, sunset!
The race started promptly at sunset.

In addition to chatting with teammates and running loops, scheduled activities provided steady entertainment. One of my favorites was viewing Saturn and Jupiter through telescopes provided by the UVU Astronomy Club while eating Milky Way candy bars. Pretty cosmic!

the creepy-crawlies of the crust
Although we were in a salted wasteland, grasshoppers, dragonflies, and green beetles miraculously seemed at home.

We divided our running slots in the middle of the night so everyone could take a nap. At least, that was the theory. Jason and I accepted the time period no one wanted between 2:00 and 3:30 AM. We had one hour and 40 minutes to snooze before our turn, but we were unsuccessful in falling asleep.

real magic
This is not Photoshop magic but nature magic.

Although we had the worst slot for resting, it was the best in other ways. From 2:00-4:00, the race organizers turned out all their lights. So, Jason and I got to dash under a sky swirling with sparkling specks unveiled by the new moon and our remote location. It was one of the best celestial spectacles I have ever seen.

a lively atmosphere
The sunset was pretty, but the sunrise was magnificent.

The stars were a shimmering net cast over us, but the sunrise might have been even more beautiful. The heavens seemed to curve around us as bottomless blue turned into brilliant orange. I felt like I was inside a snow globe filled with hovering clouds that would be shaken back into the stratosphere by some unseen hand at any moment.

salted and speedy
Jason averaged 13 minutes per loop making him our fastest runner.

And the running? The course was flat (yup… Salt Flats), but the crunchy grooves and sticky brine represented a different kind of challenge. Plus, the sparkling firmaments kept us looking up instead of at where we were treading. I did five loops and Jason did seven. In total, I completed just over 8.5 miles and Jason 12. Why so many for Jason? He was definitely a victim of his own hustle. Jason was nominated to start the race and do the last loop when there were only 15 minutes left on the clock.

And the weather? The temperatures were nice, though a little chilly between about 5:00 and 7:00 AM. The wind was manageable even when it picked up for a few hours in the middle of the night. Salt would have gotten everywhere without that, but it certainly helped spread the saline. Yes, salt even got there.

Go Salty!
Our team consisted of avid and lukewarm runners.

Jason and I thought we would be okay to drive home after the race without taking a nap. We were wrong. About an hour or so from home, we both suddenly realized we had only minutes until sleeping wouldn’t be optional. We had to pull into a rest stop for a quick 20-minute snooze.

The Dusk to Dawn Relay was a memorable, fun, and unexpectedly stunning event. We felt like jerky cured in salt the next day. But man, what an experience! If you get the opportunity to run Dusk to Dawn, I’d go for it.