A few photos from the past week:
Last Friday night Ryan Sutherland, Aaron and I headed to Vegas to celebrate Aaron’s birthday. The trip started with Sutherland’s primordial response upon hearing the cost of a hotel room for the evening (“Goo”), was followed by much Beastie Boys music along the way, and culminated with an appearance by Charlie Chisel and a journey led by the ouija beer. The night ended late, and the following day we hit the Bellagio for brunch before heading home by way of the Mad Greek in Baker.
Audrey and I headed out to the desert two days later for some camping. Death Valley is a good bit cooler in the winter, and we had some good hikes in between coyote and kit fox sightings. Highlighting the differences between someone like myself who prefers the outdoors, and someone like Audrey who has spent almost all of her life in cities, the wind picked up Tuesday night and lulled me to sleep, while Audrey was up most of the night wondering if the tent would blow away (it didn’t). We headed to Vegas Wednesday to catch the Blue Man Group show (it ruled), lost some money on a baffling video slot machine involving an old prospector and Q-Bert, and finally headed home this afternoon after visiting the Mirage’s pool and jacuzzi.
The slow push to get through the remaining Antarctica photos continues, although I should be able to get most of them online tomorrow. As to the rest, at the rate I’m going it may be several more years…
As sort of a last expression of freedom before rejoining the corporate world I made a quick trip up to Yosemite, waking up just after 5:00 AM yesterday to be on the Half Dome trail by 6:00 AM. As always it was amazing, but sadly the final half mile of the trail was closed for repairs, and in addition there were some issues with… well, chafing, that made the trek down somewhat excruciating. On the positive side I took a ten minute water break with a deer who was browsing six feet from where I was sitting.
In addition, for the first time in Yosemite I saw a black bear while coming down the trail. The black bear was foraging near the trail and ambled to within about fifteen yards of me at one point (kids, don’t try that one at home). In the midst of watching him tear apart logs another hiker came along, happily munching on trail mix. After pointing out that there was a bear just off the trail and that it might be prudent for him to put his food away this guy did so and then wandered directly into the bear’s path. Noticing this brilliant maneuver, the bear paused, looked around to see if there was an easy way to get around him, and then slapped his claws against the log in a way that had me convinced he was about to charge. And of course, our hero still didn’t move from the bear’s path! Luckily Smokey climbed off of his log and took another route, but it was tough not to be impressed with the animal’s restraint.
Today I’m hobbling around on sore legs with the plan being that I’ll probably head down to LA tomorrow to try and find a place to live, preferably one in which no more than ten police helicopters buzz by each night. Los Angeles again…
One of the longstanding items on the to-do list has been to scan in the approximately fifty rolls of print film that I took from 1994 through 1999. The job is about half done, and while my good photographs today aren’t really much better than my good photos from ten years ago, the percentage of photos that are complete and utter crap has definitely decreased; far fewer of today’s photos require asking the question what the hell was I trying to photograph? That said, a few photos from back in the day are actually worth sharing:
Shortly after I had curled up in the back of the Subaru and fallen asleep last night another car came down the road, parked right next to me, and two guys started setting up camp. Bearing in mind that we were the only two vehicles in the national forest, and also keeping in mind that there were numerous other places where camping was possible, I was a bit perturbed at the breach of privacy. Certain places in this world — examples include camping spots, urinals, and elevators — all have unwritten rules of occupation, violations of which are so unexpected that the brain really has no response except to think “but you just don’t do that…”
This morning I arrived at Bryce as the sun was breaking the horizon, and the clouds parted long enough to grab a few photos. I was a bit curious about Ebenezer Bryce, who the park was named for, but learned only that he was known to have described his canyon as “a hell of a place to lose a cow”.
Made a brief trip through Zion, including a trek up a small peak that I’m sure my mother would have preferred me to skip. Ate a quick dinner in Vegas, and should be home sometime tomorrow afternoon, barring surprise sidetrips.
I did my utmost to get up before sunrise, but it just wasn’t happening. Luckily Delicate Arch was still free of visitors when I arrived at 8:00 AM. Later in the day while visiting Double Arch I ran into a college group that I had seen in Canyonlands yesterday, and we hung out under the arches, enjoying the sun and talking about everything from golfing at the South Pole to local geology (despite my obviously immense knowledge, I let them do most of the talking on that one). The remainder of the day was spent crashed out in a hotel doing my best to scrub off a week of accumulated dirt. Clean is good.
Tonight’s camping spot is another unexpected destination, but with a name like “Valley of the Gods” it seemed like a place not to be missed. Spent the entire day in Monument Valley, which was impressive (as expected). Unfortunately the Navajo don’t permit any travel except on the park road, so there was no hiking or quiet moments. Nonetheless, there were numerous opportunities for photos, although with my usual skill I seem to have botched the vast majority of them.
U2’s “Still Haven’t Found What I’m Looking For” seems to be the theme for this trip, and I had it on repeat for about four hours while driving through the desert east of Joshua Tree. I decided to take the secondary roads instead of the interstate, and it was a good choice — the desert out there is the type of place where time and distance blur, such that you don’t know if you’ve been traveling for one hour or six, and it was a good time to think.
By the time I reached the Grand Canyon clouds had set in, but I still managed a bit of hiking. I’m hoping to hike the Kaibab trail tomorrow, although the forecast is for rain, which wouldn’t be ideal. My eating habits have been abysmal thus far on the trip, but tonight I decided that the possibility of a tough hike warranted a good dinner. Stopping at a cafeteria I discovered that the old Mexican woman manning the “South of the Border” station was totally hooking people up with the portions — plates were literally overflowing when she handed them back. The drool was probably evident by the time I got to the front of the line, at which point a Thai girl stepped in to take my order and made me a burrito the size of an egg roll; the Gods continue to mock me.
In other news, I shaved the dome again today. In the span of four days I’ve gone from being a guy whose hair was thinning at a young age to being a badass who inspires mothers to stand protectively over their children; I’m digging the change.
Yesterday’s wildlife sightings included a mouse fleeing across the highway. Today’s wildlife sightings included another mouse, although this one was in the process of being swallowed by a coyote. I spent an inordinately long time trying to get a picture of the coyote pouncing on mice (his mouse-catching batting average was one out of ten while I was watching him), but he had an uncanny ability to avoid being photographed. A group of ten deer had no such issues, and having several deer within feet of me provided the rare experience of feeling like wildlife was coming too close to me, rather than vice versa.
I thought it might be different to see Yosemite in winter for once, but was instead greeted by a high temperature of seventy-two degrees, and no snow whatsoever in Yosemite Valley. Baffling. Badger Pass, located at a much higher elevation, is rumored to still have some of the white stuff remaining, so I’ll make a run up there tomorrow and show the world how cross-country skiing was not meant to be done.