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Gateway
SUMMER 2018
Inside this issue: Hiking, kayaking, rafting, paddleboarding, surviving and even blacksmithing. If it happens anywhere in the Grand Circle, we’re your source.
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SLEEP INN & SUITES SLEEP INN & SUITES
Set against the dazzling Glen Canyon Overlook off Highway 89, the Sleep Inn & Suites® hotel in Page puts guests close to gorgeous Arizona landmarks like Horseshoe Bend and Rainbow Bridge. This non-smoking affordable Page hotel is also near attractions like: • Antelope Canyon • Lake Powell • Wahweap Overloook • John Wesley Powell Museum • Water Holes Canyon We want you to feel refreshed when you stay with us, that’s why our indoor heated pool and whirlpool is a great place to relax. Our exercise room is the perfect place to keep your endorphins going.
673 Scenic View Drive, Page, AZ, 86040, US Phone: (928) 645-2020 Fax: (928) 645-4950
Page, AZ
Other amenities include: • Free full breakfast • Free WiFi • Free parking • Guest laundry All guest rooms offer a 40-inch HDTV and desk. Some rooms feature a balcony, coffee maker, whirlpool, microwave, refrigerator, sofa sleeper and in-room tea and coffee. Dream better at the Sleep Inn & Suites. Hotels in Page, AZ offer cozy, modern rooms at a great value. Book now!
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I’m Ready for Summer We had a frosty, cloudy, blustery winter in Page this year followed by a cold, windy, rainy, overcast spring. We had a few warm, sunny days in April that lured us outside and reminded us of the glorious days of summer we hoped would be arriving soon. My wife, daughter and I took advantage of the few warm afternoons and took slow walks through the desert and our neighborhood enjoying the sunshine. But the next day I attended a high school softball game where the fans were bundled in blankets against the icy wind which carried plagues of red sand from the desert across the diamond, and reddened our faces with a hundred sand stings. After five months of cold, rain and wind I’m ready for summer. I’m ready to have friends over for a backyard barbecue. I’m ready to take the boat onto Lake Powell and explore some new side canyons. I’m ready to wear sandals and sun shirts. I’m ready to catch some five pound stripers. I’m ready to have a fish fry. I’m ready to paddleboard, kayak and swim. I’m ready to hike, camp and expand my daughter’s horizons. I miss the sun. I miss the smell of sunscreen. I’m ready to view constellations under warm July nights. I’m ready for roadtrip hotdogs and backwoods s’mores. I’m ready to feel the season’s first sunburn on my shoulders, and the season’s first quad burn as I backpack a new trail somewhere in Gateway country. I’m ready to hike until my cabin fever just evaporates, like rain on summer asphalt. I’m ready to open my windows and
let the warm summer breeze blow across my bed carrying with it the smell of tamarisk blossoms and the sound of chirping crickets. I’m always excited for summer to begin but I’m particularly looking forward to this summer. I have a daughter who is two and a half years old and this summer, if all goes well, my wife and I – and her grandparents too, I’m sure – plan to introduce her to several new firsts. We plan to take her on her first fishing trip, her first boat-camping excursion on Lake Powell, her first time on a stand-up paddleboard, her first trip to Moab, her first trip to the north rim of the Grand Canyon. I’m ready for less Netflix, more campfire stories. Less screen time, more serene time. I’m ready for ice cream cones, naps in hammocks and those colorful monsoon sunsets. I’m ready to trade ice on my steps for ice in my lemonade, gray for green, winter frost for summer dew. I’m ready for the smell of campfire smoke, pine trees, fresh-cut grass and outboard exhaust. I’m ready for the drone of bees, the scream of line peeling off my reel and the crack of ice trays. I’m ready to eat cherries straight off the tree and tomatoes straight off the vine. I’m ready for Green River watermelon and Hatch chiles. I’m ready to partake and share the bounty of summer. I’m ready to plant my bum in a beach chair, bury my nose in a novel and dig my toes in the sand. I’m ready for summer. Steven Law Editor
Gateway to Canyon Country
is produced four times a year by the staff of the Lake Powell Chronicle, P.O. BOX 1716, Page, AZ 86040. Phone 928.645.8888 Fax 928.645.2209 Publisher Cal Tatum ctatum@lakepowellchronicle.com Editor Steven Law slaw@lakepowellchronicle.com Office Manager Kim Clark kclark@lakepowellchronicle.com Contributors Steven Law Kyla Rivas Kim Clark Nicole M. Anderson Olivia Michael Composing Marty Sisk msisk@lakepowellchronicle.com Advertising Ed Pease epease@lakepowellchronicle.com Norma Tsinnijinnie ntsinnijinnie@lakepowellchronicle.com Circulation John Baker
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Photographers stop to record one of Capitol Reef ’s many scenic overlooks. Photo / Denes Miles 6 Gateway to Canyon Country
Gateway to Canyon Country Summer 2018
Capitol Reef Capitol Reef hikes lead to fantastic overlooks and secluded canyons. Page 38
Page 12
Page 39
Page 35
Page 49
Inside 10 12 18 25
Butch Cassidy’s home The Yurt Diaries Kayaking Lake Powell Lake Powell map
26 27 28 38
Grand Circle map Page/Lake Powell map City Page Map Capitol Reef’s best hikes
35 39 45 49
Family paddleboarding Family camping Blacksmith adventures A solo kayak voyage
www.GatewaytoCanyonCountry.com 7
Oh, the summer night, has a smile of light And she sits on a sapphire throne. -Bryan Procter
We Book Tours for Most Local Companies
See Page & Lake Powell Today! • Individual/Families/Tour Groups • Same Rates as Local Guides • Tips & Ideas to Tour Area • Hike/Boat/Kayak/Whitewater Rafting Helicopter Rides/Swim/Fishing/Dining/Hotels
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928.645.2741 5 Lake Powell Blvd., Unit 3
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Tip from the locals no. 44 Visit Butch Cassidy’s boyhood home
Photo by Steven Law
If your journey through Gateway country takes you along southern Utah’s highway 89 keep your eye out for Butch Cassidy’s boyhood home. The log cabin resides just a couple miles south of the town of Circleville, Utah. The famous outlaw was actually born in Beaver, Utah but the family moved to Circleville a short time later. Cassidy’s real name was Robert Parker. He was the oldest of 13 kids and left home in his early teens and soon fell in with a horse thief and cattle rustler, Mike Cassidy, which Robert Parker borrowed as his own last name. After leaving Mike Cassidy, Robert Parker made his way to Wyoming and did a short stint as a cattle butcher which earned him the nickname of Butch, and from thereafter he was known as Butch Cassidy. His true notoriety came when he and the Sundance Kid formed the Wild Bunch, who became famous for their daring train robberies and equally exciting escapes into the uncharted
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wilds of Utah, Wyoming and Colorado. According to legend Butch and Sundance met their deaths in a gunfight in Bolivia where they had escaped after the Pinkerton Detective Agency got too hot on their trail. But, if you sit down in almost any restaurant in Circleville, Beaver or Marysvale, Utah and inquire about Butch Cassidy the locals will tell you that he and Sundance faked their deaths in Bolivia in order to be free of the Pinkerton Detective Agency which was still looking for them. According to the locals, Cassidy returned to the U.S. after faking his death where he lived to be an old man. His sister, Lulu Parker Betenson, wrote a book about Butch’s life, including his return home after his time in Bolivia, titled Butch Cassidy, My Brother. It’s a well- researched, great story if you have a chance to read it. -Steven Law
One of the newest hotels in town. The Comfort Inn & Suites® hotel in Page, Arizona
offers easy access to a variety of outdoor activities along the Colorado River, including water skiing, hiking, biking, fishing, golfing and raft trips. This Page, AZ hotel is also convenient to Horseshoe Bend and Antelope Canyon.
Comfort Inn® has the only indoor heated pool & Jacuzzi in Page!
Guests of the Comfort Inn & Suites will appreciate our many amenities including: • Free wireless high-speed Internet access • Business center • Heated indoor pool & Jacuzzi! • Complimentary hot breakfast • Fitness Room
890 Haul Road, Page, AZ • 928-645-6931
The Rodeway Inn® is located close to Powell Museum and Lake Powell National Golf Course.
Downtown Page, AZ Recreational amenities include an outdoor pool. Those traveling on business have access to a business center at this hotel. Complimentary wireless Internet access is available in public areas. Self parking is complimentary.
Additional property amenities include free WiFi, laundry facilities, and a picnic area. Some accommodations have balconies or patios if available. Free hot breakfast. All rooms with flat screen TV’s, microwave, refrigerator, coffee pot and hair dryer.
Great Wall of China Restaurant inside the Rodeway Inn
107 S. Lake Powell Blvd., Page, AZ • 928-645-2406
www.GatewaytoCanyonCountry.com 11
The Yurt Diaries
Yurting is a great way to introduce your kids to camping and the great outdoors.
Story and photos by Steven Law As our elevation increases we climb from juniper and sagebrush desert and into an alpine forest of blue spruce pines and quaking aspens. The temperature drops by ten degrees and we turn off the A/C and roll down the windows so we can take in the fresh smell of the pine trees. My wife points out three mule deer walking through the forest and points them out to our two-year-old daughter who raises her head from the car seat so she can see them. “Those are deer, “my wife tells her. A few miles later we turn off the gravel road onto a
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two-track dirt road and about a mile farther we see our destination: A very isolated yurt, deep in the woods. And it’s all ours for the next four days. “This is it,” I announce. “Let’s go make some memories.” I had a great childhood filled with lots of camping, fishing, hiking, hunting and tramping around outside with my friends, my dog and my wild family. As a family, our first camping trip of the year occurred at Easter and we spent it in the desert; sometimes at the San Rafael
Swell, sometimes at Lake Powell and during the year’s first outing I chased lizards, butterflies, squirrels and rambunctious cousins. The next big family trip came in July when our family traveled to Flaming Gorge, Utah where I climbed trees, fed peanuts to chipmunks and played in the fragrant duff of the forest floor. Sometime during the summer, we always took a family camping trip into the woods near our home where, as a kid, I sat motionless in the scratchy, mountain grass watching deer graze, listened to summer hail crack on the
roof of our camper, and fell asleep to the sound of my parents whispering in bed at the same level of the camper’s propane heater. The absolute best camping trip of the year occurred at the end of October during deer hunt where the chill of the high-mountain woods competed against the heat of a blazing campfire while we listened to my dad and uncles tell hilarious stories from their adventurous youth. Most of my favorite memories from childhood are from family camping trips and whether I was chasing lizards across sandstone, walking
through an alpine meadow filled with wildflowers, sitting in a boat on Lake Powell watching the sunrise paint the cliffs shades of vermilion, pink and peach, I had the wonderful privilege of feeling the sun on my face, the wind in my hair, and bare, unpaved ground beneath my feet. And that rare delight of campfire heat kissing my sunburned face, what I would describe as the most luxurious burn. During it all I developed a great love and appreciation for the outdoors, for nature and the numerous strange, wonderful creatures that inhabit the different landscapes we visited. Having emerged from such a rich background, immersed in nature, curiosity, adventure and exploration, I now want the same for my own daughter. I want her to have a childhood that’s also filled with camping, fishing, hiking, exploring, discovering and tramping around outside. I want her to be awed by a star-filled sky, by starling murmurations and the sight of a thousand dragonflies flying over the surface of an alpine lake. I want her to know the joys of listening to stories both tall and true told around a campfire. I want her to feel at home in the woods, in the desert, on a lake. I want her to know how to operate a Jeep, a raft and a boat. I want her to have an interesting, adventurous, discovery-filled life so that she too will have some interesting stories of her own to tell around her campfires of the future. That’s where the yurt comes in. For those unfamiliar with yurting, a yurt is a circular, canvas walled tent with a wooden floor which are about 20 feet in diameter. The U.S. Forest Service, which maintains most of the
Most U.S. Forest Service-run yurts are located in very scenic, and usually isolated, locales. Dana and Roo Law spend a few minutes wading in the stream that runs past our yurt, above. The author and Roo roast marshmallows in the yurt’s wood-burning stove, below.
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yurts in Gateway country, provides most of the gear you’ll need for your stay including propane, lanterns, cook stove, wood stove, beds, wood, axes, pots and pans. Pretty much everything but bedding and food which the camper will need to provide themselves. All yurts also have an outhouse, located a short distance away. The U.S. Forest Service prides itself on locating their yurts on some of its most pristine and scenic land. The best part about yurting with a Forest Service yurt is that you have the location to yourself. You’re not in a yurt, next to a yurt, next to a yurt. Another great thing is they locate their yurts in secluded locales where there is ZERO cell phone reception. I appreciate that a lot. It’s nice not having your fellow camp mates checking their phones all day long. The yurt is the perfect combination of roughing it and comfort. After a day spent fishing or hiking it’s very nice to After a night time rain, Roo finds some puddles to splash.
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See YURT pg. 16
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not have to crawl into a cold, cramped tent and sleep on lumpy ground. I want my daughter to grow up with happy camping memories and a desire to do more of it in her life when she becomes an adult, so to that end I don’t want her to associate camping with an uncomfortable, unhappy, scary experience. But neither do I want to take her for an outing in the woods and then drive into town and check into a hotel. I don’t want her to think camping means checking into a hotel at the end of the day. That’s one of the things that makes camping in a yurt so great. You can be warm and comfortable and still feel like you’re camping. Yurting is glamping meets
wild, open public lands which you have all to yourselves. It is pretty much the perfect way to camp. My wife and I chose a yurt located in an alpine meadow
food and bedding into the yurt and arranging it for our stay. And then it’s time to explore! We walk out the door and take in our environment. Our yurt for the next four days and
Camping in a yurt is the perfect combination of roughing it and comfort. After a day spent fishing or hiking it’s very nice to not have to crawl into a cold, cramped tent and sleep on lumpy ground. in southern Utah. The nearest people are in a town 20 miles away. I park the Jeep in front of the yurt and we spend the next ten minutes carrying our
three nights, sits in a grassy alpine meadow. A narrow stream, with elusive native brook and cutthroat trout, runs through the meadow
Cleaning up after dinner. Most yurts include propane stove, prep area, tables, bunk beds and wood stove. 16 Gateway to Canyon Country
just 50 feet from the yurt. Aspens and tall pines border the meadow on its north and south sides. It is absolute paradise. This is our daughter, Roo’s, first time camping. So, we let her lead the way. She heads straight for the stream. The stream is only a car lane wide and eight to 10 inches deep. She wades right into the cold alpine water. My wife and I wade in beside her and from there we continue walking down the stream following Roo’s lead. A few minutes later our feet are freezing and we exit the stream and move out onto the meadow where Roo finds and inspects flowers and butterflies. We live in Page, Arizona. Land of heat and sand and
short, scrubby vegetation. All this grass, trees and greenery is new to her and she is enthralled by it. In the coming days we’ll visit an alpine lake and watch a family of ducks and iridescent dragonflies flitting through the swampgrass in three to five-foot long banners. In the evenings we’ll cook our meals over the yurts propane stove and heat it with its wood-burning stove. On the second and third nights we’ll be treated to night time thunderstorms that arrive shortly after we go to bed and we’re allowed that rare luxury of listening to rain pitter pat on a canvas roof. Wonderful! We splashed through rain puddles, walked down paths, gazed at the stars and roasted marshmallows and made
Dana and Belle enjoying a sunny afternoon at a lake near out yurt. Yurting is less about the yurt and more about its back yard. plenty of hot cocoa. I don’t know how much my two year old daughter will remember from this trip – possibly nothing – but somewhere in her psyche, subconscious or neural
pathways I think we embedded and/or imprinted some happy sub-memories that as she grows older, she’ll associate with camping, family, nature and the amazing creatures that inhabit it.
There are more than a dozen yurts scattered throughout Gateway country. Most are open year round. Some yurts which are open during winter can only be accessed using snowshoes or crosscountry skis. All the yurts have an outhouse. Some allow dogs. Prices range from $30 to $150 per night. Some yurts, because they’re hard to find require a guide to take you there, which costs an additional fee. You can find a list of Utah yurts at yurtsofutah. com. Reservations need to be made in advance.
After a family walk down a long trail, tired-out Roo needs a piggy-back ride back to the yurt. www.GatewaytoCanyonCountry.com 17
Great Store - Great Service • Hardware • Plumbing • Electric • Tools • Housewares • Pet Supplies • Feed & Grain • Lawn & Garden
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Essential desert survival tips
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620 N. Navajo Dr., Page, AZ (928) 645-2428 www.bostonstruevalue.com
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Photo/Steven Law
BOSTON’S
By Kim Clark Summer is calling us to visit Lake Powell and the surrounding area, but to the unprepared visitor, the desert can be an unforgiving place. Even the smallest mistake can turn an afternoon of fun or a weekend camping trip into an emergency. One mistake and you could die in the desert. Even if you plan to only be out in the desert heat for a few hours, remember to bring at least a gallon of water for each person in your group, have a hat, sunscreen and some extra clothes with you. The desert does cool off at night. Matches, a mirror, a compass, sunglasses and chapstick are helpful too. Some extra food is a must, just in case. Fill your tank with gas and make sure your vehicle, whether a car, truck, ATV or boat is in good working order. Remember to always watch your kids when you’re around water. It doesn’t take but a minute for them to disappear. Watch for snakes, scorpions and other outdoor dangers. Never put your hand or a foot where you can’t see the surface. Remember to keep an eye to the sky for thunderstorms that cause flash floods. Now that you are prepared, think about a few more important tips. There is no such thing as being too well prepared.
The first tip is to share your plans. Tell someone where you are going and when you plan to return. Have a family member, friend or neighbor write down the make, model and license number of your vehicle. Tell them where you are going and what route you are taking. Will others be traveling with you? Have them provide the same information for their contacts too. Let your contacts know what kind of health issues the group may have and what kind of emergency supplies you have with you including all medications your group may need. While most have cell phones today, do not depend on it working or if you will have coverage or a charged battery when you need it. Consider renting a satellite phone if you plan to be on the lake or in the back country for an extended period of time. Another helpful piece of equipment is a handheld GPS. It can provide helpful topographical maps, but remember with their use comes the warning to be aware that they might tell you a cow trail is a road, so you must use your common sense here as well. Today the most prepared hikers will also have as a last resort a Personal Locator Beacon. These PLB’s are a highly effective way of summoning help. A word of warning here, only use them in a life-threatening situation. Now that you have put together your survival pack, go out and have a wonderful time and enjoy Lake Powell and the surrounding area.
Natural History Museum Inside A Sandstone Cave Fluorescent Mineral Display Native American Artifacts Dinosaur Tracks Fossils Pre-Columbian Artifacts Unique Gifts And Rock Shop
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Eating bugs and sleeping on needles
The Boulder Outdoor Survival School, the world’s premier desert survival school, celebrates its 50th anniversary this summer. By Steven Law
A B.O.S.S. student whittles a bow and drill fire-starting kit, something he’ll use throughout his two to four weeks at B.O.S.S. The morning sun finally peeked over the cliff wall. I was happy to see it, and especially happy to feel its warmth, after having spent a long, cold night marinating in the frosty desert air. About a minute after the sun came over the cliff wall, one of our guides walked into the area where our small group of 11 students was scattered about on the ground sleeping among the juniper trees and prickly pears. “Wakey, wakey,” he said in a cheery voice. Thus dawned day two of Boulder Outdoor Survival School, a primitive survival school held in the deserts and mountains outside of Boulder, Utah inside the boundaries of Grand Staircase-Escalante National Monument. BOSS is the oldest outdoor survival school in the United States. It’s been in operation since 1968. Students learn map and compass navigation, how to build a bow and drill firestarter and, just as importantly, how to use it to make a fire. The survival students learn how to build a shelter, and what area plants are edible and medicinal. Most important of all, the classroom takes place outside allowing students to interact intimately with their environment. All the lessons are hands-on. The class is mobile. Students will hike six to 15 miles per day. BOSS offers one-, two- and four-week field courses. I did the two-week course. I was one of eight students and three leaders. During the first three days of the course, we carried only a knife, a fanny pack with journal, camera and sunscreen and the clothes on our backs. We had no tents, sleeping bags, backpacks,
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Photo courtesy B.O.S.S.
canteen or food. The purpose of such minimalism was to allow us to experience nature on its terms without any shells between us and it. I put on my boots and stood up, a bit stiff and sore after yesterday’s eight-mile hike. Some of my fellow students also showed some signs of having spent a day hiking through the desert and sleeping under the stars. It appears that yesterday’s sun found a chink in Ted’s armor of sunscreen. He now has three sunburned finger lines across his forehead that look like russet streaks of warpaint. Sheila has a constellation of mosquito bites across her forehead and down one side of her face, and nearly all of us had scratches on our shins from walking through fields of sagebrush. We didn’t stay long in our camp among the junipers because any chance we had of finding food and water was on the trail. Mike, one of our instructors, led the way out of camp. We hadn't had water since early the night before so finding water was our primary priority. The terrain gradually declined and transitioned from juniper and pinyon trees to sparser vegetation: Brigham tea, rabbitbrush, manzanita bushes, white oak trees. Interspersed among the vegetation, we passed foot-high volcanoes of gravel and sand erupting red ants. Black, green and rust-colored lichen covered flat gray rocks in a blotchy, papier-mache rash. Semi-transparent, semi-hardened sap dripped down the bark of a wounded pinyon tree in a lacy, yellowish curtain. In other places, the sap hung from branches in amber icicles.
Below, were puddly amber stalagmites. Two hours after leaving camp, we reached a redrock promontory named Impossible Peak. Impossible Peak was a 400-foot high sandstone peninsula surrounded by a sea of sand and sandstone. From atop the sandstone catwalk, we could see a green vein in the desert floor below us, which we deeply hoped meant we’d find a stream there. We descended the side of the promontory, switchbacking across a series of narrow ledges like typewriter keys moving down the page. Near the bottom of the peninsula, the trail ended at the cliff's edge and began again 30 feet below us. A rope, anchored into nearby rocks, hung from our position to the trail below us. We had no rapelling gear. The plan was to climb down the rope hand over hand with our feet planted against the cliff wall. In addition, the person climbing down the cliff tied a second rope around their torso and our instructor, with his feet braced against some rocks, acted as belay. I was the third one off the cliff. I attached the belay rope around my torso, took hold of the other rope and backed off the cliff’s edge and walked backwards down the cliff face. After I reached the trail below, I untied the belay rope and joined Liz and Steven in a small patch of shade beneath a juniper to escape the baking July sun, which was now directly overhead, while we waited for the rest of the group to make it off the cliff. It took nearly an hour for all of us to make it safely off the cliff. From there, the terrain slowly softened into foothills. Mike led us closer to the green vein at the bottom of the desert. The sun sneered, leaned into us with its full weight, like Shiva, Hindu God of Destruc-
BOSS students make their way across the desert.
Photo courtesy B.O.S.S.
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tion, leaning on us with his four elbows. The sun only lacked some inwardly slanting eyebrows to show its ferocity. The temperature was in the low hundreds. It had been 20 hours since our last drink of water. Mike led us toward the band of cottonwoods, willows and grasses we had seen earlier from the cliff top. The air grew humid and smelled of decomposition as we stepped into the green belt and then, there it was: water. I think. The streambed that ran through the willows, reeds and grasses was no wider than a ditch and the water in it was swampy and brackish. It looked more like something you’d find in a Detroit gutter. On the hills away from the stream’s swampy heart junipers, pinyons and cottonwoods cast their shade. We dropped our fanny packs among their shade and pushed into the willows to find a place where we could access the water. Sheila Heyns, a 25-year-old woman from Chicago, skimmed some moss off the sluggish stream and dipped in her cup. I dipped in my cup after her. No matter how carefully I skimmed, it was impossible to screen away the moss and dead bugs. I dripped in some purification drops and found some shade. The water smelled swampy. I drank a sip as a taste test. Ick! I winced it down. It was thick with thrummy moss. It was like drinking shag carpet and tasted like sweaty socks. Now, I know in a situation like this, after having hiked through the desert for 20 hours without a drink I'm supposed to say that it's the best water I've ever had; but it wasn't. It was some of the nastiest crud to ever cross my lips. One of our instructors Josh Bernstein held his cup aloft as if giving a toast and said, “Ya gotta make dew with what you have, ha ha!” and gulped down his water.
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Despite the water's nastiness, it was the only water available in a hot summer desert and we were all severely dehydrated. We were advised by our leaders to drink as much as we could before we moved on because it was likely going to be a while before we came to more water, and we still had a lot of desert to cross. We plunged in our Sierra cups four or five times and drank till we had satisfied our insistent thirst. Having done that, our thoughts turned to food. Our last meal had been 30 hours ago. We scanned the terrain for edibles. Not knowing what might or night not be edible we watched our instructors to see what they
did. Mike overturned a rotting log and on its underside found ants and ant larvae. To our surprise, he picked up some larvae and eating them! “Try some,” he said. Then he started eating the ants. We tried some. The ants, which were black, tasted strangely like chlorine, and crunched like a pinyon nut in its shell. Hesitantly, Lee, a 26-yearold mountain bike shop owner from Boulder, Colo., tried an ant larva. "They taste pretty good," he said. "They kind of taste like almonds," said Sheila. And they did. The taste wasn’t bad but the texture of a squishy, wiggling creature was hard to get used to.
We ate ants and ant larvae for about 15 minutes and then moved on. The trail Mike led us down moved eastward, then made a slow curve till we were traveling north. Cliff walls bordered us on the right and left. To my left, from the west, I noticed thick cumulonimbus thunderheads moving towards us. A lizard ran across the Navajo sandstone, sporadic as a butterfly's shadow. Locusts took short flights from the junipers and sagebrush, their ratchety wings sounded like playing cards stuck in bicycle spokes. Overhead, thunderclouds rumbled, nearly as loud as our empty stomachs. In the early afternoon, the dark clouds crumbled. The raindrops, which left freckles the
A B.O.S.S. student creates fire using just a bow and drill. “There’s something special about the first time you create fire using primitive, technolody. An absolutely magical, primal, unforgettable moment. It means warmth. It brings light. It transforms matter. Hundreds of thousands of years ago, it changed everything for our species. Today, even in our hypertechnological society where we take it for granted, producing a tiny ember—the oldfashioned way—still has the power to transform a person.” Photo courtesy B.O.S.S.
size of quarters on the sandstone over which we walked, evaporated off the hot rocks almost as soon as they hit. We took shelter under a stand of river birch trees during the heaviest part of the storm, tucking back in as close to their bases as possible. The rain didn't quit but lessened enough for Mike to feel comfortable enough to leave our meager shelter and head out again. The canyon walls, which towered several hundred feet above us, grew narrower until they closed together. Our only choice was to start climbing up them. We followed an old prospector's mule trail climbing ledge to ledge, following cairns as tall as snowmen, past ancient prickly pears with racks of pads as big as moose antlers. We came upon a yucca plant with some ripe fruit and some of us picked the fruit and ate it. It tasted like bitter peas. I was hot and tired. I was dehydrated. In the last 40 hours, I had eaten only a few ants, larvae and yucca fruit. The sun, which ripened my enthusiasm this morning had been depleting it for the last two hours. Our little group hiked along like tired mules who have been carrying fat tourists out of the Grand Canyon. And our curiosity had faded with our energy. Our eyes no longer darted to the scenery ahead or beside us, but focused only on the trail, the next step. Our thoughts turned inward. I wondered when we’d stop for the night. I wondered if we were going to find more water. The wind blowing through the trees sounded like running water to me. The trail semed endless. Our combined energies, which before were bright and green and leafy and succulent were now shrunken into skinny, brittle, dry sticks, silhouetted against the immense desert sunset like a fall orchard. Camp, with its promise of rest, seemed just ahead, but evaporated as we came around the corner, crested the ridge. A mirage! But it was my intense thirst that cast the largest shadow over everything. And there was a few seconds while switchbacking up the cliff wall where I thought I was on the verge of passing out. It happened when we made a rest stop. My legs felt tingly, a feeling like dozens of ants were crawling up and down them. I put my hands on my knees to rest and let the feeling pass and while doing that noticed that dozens of ants were crawling up and down my legs. I picked them off and start eating them. It was, after all, a survival camp. On the mesa top we found rain water in a pot hole. The pot hole was covered with a pudding skin of dust and fine debris. It was swimming with larvae, floating with the dead husks of wasps, beetles, ants. We filtered the debris out with bandannas, added some pu-
rification drops. The bandana-filtered water was clear but tasted like a hippie’s bath water. It tasted awful, but I was so thirsty, I happily gulped down six cups of it. Finally we reached the top of Dry Bench and made camp under a large stand of Ponderosa pines. There wasn’t much involved in setting up camp. We didn't have any tents to pitch, didn't have anything with which to build a fire, there was no food to prepare. Our elevation was fairly high, 8,600 feet, so even though it was July it would get plenty cold tonight. Our instructors showed us how to insulate ourselves from the cold ground by creating a mattress of pine needles and fallen leaves. The thicker the better. We watched the last of the sunset catch on top of the distant cliff walls like the hem of a dress dragging across the top step of a staircase, and watched the pine trees become silhouettes. Just as the first stars began to appear in the eastern sky, I laid back on my pine needle mattress. My heavy eyelids snapped shut like the jaws of a bear trap. BOSS offers one-, two- and four-week desert survival courses. During their time at the field school students will learn how to build a fire using only a bow and drill. They’ll also learn how to make the bow and drill using the raw materials they find in the desert. They’ll learn where to look for water, how to navigate across open terrain using a map and compass, how to build shelter, how to nap and shape flint into useful blades. There is something very empowering about learning those skills. Even though they’re skills I don’t use on a daily basis I found that they gave me a great level of confidence that I carried with me in my daily life. A year after my time at BOSS I contacted many of the friends who had taken the course with me and they all expressed that they too felt a level of confidence and empowerment they didn’t have before. I went on to use the skills I had learned at BOSS many times in the future. It gave me the confidence to go on deeper trips into the backcountry of the Colorado Plateau. My longest was a 40 day solo trip into the Dark Canyon wilderness area. Those deep excursions opened a gateway to my soul that revealed all sorts of interesting results and experiences, experiences I wouldn’t have had without the confidence and knowledge that my two weeks at BOSS gave me. My favorite part about my days at BOSS was tramping through the desert with my little tribe of 16 people, out in the sun, the wind, the rain. Sleeping on a mat of pine needles, drinking water straight from the stream, interacting with nature on a deep, intimate level. It was absolutely magical.
This student’s feet tell the story of the journey.
One student’s fire-making kit.
Photos courtesy B.O.S.S.
www.GatewaytoCanyonCountry.com 23
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89
A
B
Mesa
Dr.
v 14th A
e.
B
e. h Av 12t
Ave. 13th
e Butt
Knoll
y Valle
11
.
S t.
ral Ave
Pine
a Av e.
he d
Rimv i
.
Vist
ew D
r.
Bure au S t.
Cat t. oS onin a hin Coc Kac
Vista Ave.
3rd Ave .
Sunrise Antelope
d.
S c enic View
Hem lock St
d.
ak e
Po w
Hopi Ave Veronica
L
K
3
Aqu
r. Village D
St.
a
Av e .
S. La
Cam
K
ero n St.
Sandpiper Dr.
R d.
Via Valdez
Appaloosa Rd.
Morgan Rd.
e Pow
. ll Blvd Powe Blvkde. eSll. La
Cam eron S
Palomino Rd.
Rd. Coppermine
Maverick Loop
Jerome St.t
Azure Rd.
Cascade St.
Cameron St.
C
Haul Rd.
4
. Osprey Dr
Newburn
Marble Rd.
San Francisco Rd.
Bran Rd.
I
Page Public Library Manson Rd.
Rd.
Cach
e Rd.
Falcon Ct.
Golden Eagle Ct.
Hawk Ct.
Haul Rd.
B uckeye Dr.
H a u l Rd. t.
Piute Ct.
Bass Ct.
Packer Ct.
Cliff Ct.
Clydesdale Rd.
Coppermine Rd.
Manson Rd.
lake powell
Bonita Rd. W
Aztec St.
To Antelope Point Marina Navajo Generating Station & Kayenta, AZ
98 To Flagstaff, AZ
Bonita St.
98
printing
Amado St.
5
Azure Rd.
98
C Sunset St.
San Francisco Rd.
Bonita Loop
Amand Cir.
Amado Rd. W
Shetland
Pinto Rd.
O’Neil Loop
Mustang Rd.
To Horseshoe Bend
Cameron St.
Sunset Rd. W
89
Ct. Lakeside
7
d. ell Blv
C e metery
Elk Rd.
Kaibab Rd.
89
e Pow S. Lak
.
Newburn Rd.
d.
Granada
ke P owe ll Blv
.
t. Diane C
F
5
Ct.
ve Cheryl A
A
3
St.
Ave.
Sage Ave.
S. L
k St.
e ll
Blv
2nd Ave.
. Colorado St
6
9
1*
spe n
2
Oa
r. jo D
E
S. Navajo Dr.
e.
a S. Nav
El Mirage St. S. 9th Av
Del Barrco Ave.
e.
C e d a r S t.
Sage Ave.
Tower Butte Ave. Cll Hermosa
e.
. Ave 5th t. eS
r. jo D
John C. Page Park Dat
Pondersoa St.
e. th Av S. 9
. lvd
Av 7th
B ell
Av 8th
w Po
El
.
t. mS
S t.
Birch St .
Willow St.
Vermilion Ave.
Tower Butte Ave.
e Lak
E lm
Tamarisk St.
Crestview
S.
va
r St
Fi
ve. tA
S.
Na
Dat eS t.
Redrock St.
Turquoise Ave. sa Ave. Me Red
Spruce
Ave .
. Ave
4th Ave.
Gum St.
1s
Cypress Ave.
Driftwood
S. 7t h
6th
N. Navajo Dr.
United States Post Office
10th St.
Juniper Ave.
Thunderbird Ave.
Dr.
89
ATM
Gunsight St.
Aero Ave.
Glen Canyon Dr.
Pop lar S t.
8
Park Golf Course
Golliard Park
N. 10th Ave.
Gramdview St.
Eagle
School
Dr.
Church
0 th A ve.
Grandview St.
Lake Powell National Golf
N. 1
Castle Rock St.
Fire Station
A
on Glen Cany
R
Page Municipal Airport
te Dr.
Police Station
. Ave
n scala re E Pad
Clubhouse Dr.
Glen Canyon Dam Overlook
Urgent Care
th
Plateau Ct.
Ct.
t St. Gunsigh
N Lake Powell Blvd.
Page Hospital
Ct.
w St.
Lake Access
.
e Grandvi
Marinas
14th Av e
t. 13th C
Ave.
Dr.
V Rim
iew
. 15th Ave
Dr.
89
Scenic Overlooks
1 6th Ave.
D Westview r.
Pu e blo
Visitors’ Centers
2
4
17th Ave.
Ave
.
18th Ave.
W. View Dr.
Dr.
. iew St
19th Ave.
20th
Grandv
jo N. Nava
Must See
1
D
N. Navajo Dr.
To Glen Canyon Dam Wahweap Marina & Kanab, UT
KEY
C . 20th Ave
street index Aero Ave. Amado St. Amado Rd. W. Armand Cir. Antelope Ave. Appaloosa Rd. Aqua Ave. Aspen St. Aztec St. Azure Rd. Bran Rd.
C, D-2 C-4 C-4 C-4 D-3 B-5 D-3 C-3 C-4 B-4 B-4
Bass Ct. C-3 Birch St. B,C-3 Bonita Lp. C-4 Bonita Rd. W. C-4 Bonita St. C-4 Buckeye Dr. D-4 Bureau St. C-2 Butte Ct. C-1 Cll. Hermosa D-2 Cache Rd. B-4 Cameron St. B-3, D-3,4 Cascade St. C-4
Castle Rock St. C-2 Cathedral Ave. C-2 Cedar St. B,C-3 Cemetery Rd. B-3,4 Cheryl Ave. D-3 Cliff Ct. B-3 Clubhouse Dr. B-1,2 Clydesale Rd. B-4 Coconino St. C-2 Colorado St. D-2 Coppermine Rd. (89T) C-3,D-3,4,5
28 Gateway to Canyon Country
Crestview Ave. D-2 Cypress Ave. D-2 Date St. B-2,3,C-3 Del Barrco Ave. D-2 Diane Ct. D-3 Driftwood Ave. D-2 Eagle Dr. B,C-2 Elk Rd. B-3,4 Elm St. B,C-2 El Mirage St. D-2 Falcon Ct. B-4 Fir St. C-2
Glen Canyon Dr. D-1,2 Granada Rd. C-4 Grandview St. C-1,2 ,D-2 Golden Eagle Ct. B-3,4 Gum St. B,C-2 Gunsight St. C-1, D-1,2 Haul Rd. A,B,C,D-4 Hawk Ct. B-4 Hemlock St. C-2 Hopi Ave. D-3 Jerome St. C-4
Juniper Ave. D-2 Kachina St. C-2 Kaibab Rd. B-3,4 Knoll Ave. C-1 Lake Powell Blvd. A-3,B-1,3,C-1,2,3, D-3 Lakeside Ct. D-3 Manson Rd. B,C-3 Marble Rd. C-3 Maverick Lp. C-4 Mesa Dr. C-1 Morgan Rd. B-4,5
Mustang Rd. B-5 Navajo Dr. B,C-1,2,3, D-2 Newburn Rd. C-3,4 Oak St. D-3 O’Neil Lp. B-4 Osprey Dr. D-3 Packer Ct. C-3 Padre Escalante Dr. C-1,2 Palomino Rd. B-4 Pine St. C-2
Pinto Rd. Piute Ct. Plateau Ct. Ponderosa St. Poplar St. Pueblo Dr. Red Mesa Ave. Redrock St. Rim View Dr. Rimview Dr. Sage Ave. Sandpiper Dr.
B-5 C-3 C,D-1 D-2 C-2 C-1 C-2 D-2 C-1 C-2 D-2,3 D-3,4
San Francisco Rd. B,C-4 Scenic View Rd. B-1,2 Shetland B-5 Spruce D-2 Sunrise St. D-3 Sunset St. B-4 Sunset Rd. W. B-3,4 Tamerisk St. D-2 Thunderbird Ave. C,D-2 Tower Butte Ave. D-2 Turquoise Ave. C-2 Valley Ct. C-1
Vermilion Ave. Veronica Ct. Via Valdez W. View Dr. Village Dr. Vista Ave. Westview Dr. Willow St. 1st Ave. 2nd Ave. 3rd Ave. 4th Ave.
D-2 D-3 C-4 C-1 D-3 C-1,2 C-1 D-2 B-2,3 B-3 B,C-3 C-2,3
5th Ave. 6th Ave. 7th Ave. 8th Ave. 9th Ave. N. 10th Ave. 10th St. 11th Ave. 12th Ave. 13th Ave. 13th Ct. 14th Ave.
C-2,3 C-2,3 C-2 C,D-2 C,D-2,3 C-1,2 D-1,2 C,D-1 C-1 C-1 C-1 C-1
15th Ave. 16th Ave. 17th Ave. 18th Ave. 19th Ave. 20th Ave.
C-1 C-1 C-1 C-1 C-1 C,D-1
www.GatewaytoCanyonCountry.com 29
From Denmark to the Golden Throne
Exploring Capitol Reef’s five best hikes.
k w i
a l c
w v a f b
a b t t w m m h
Photo/Denes Miles
s
30 Gateway to Canyon Country
landscape, she cried. She missed her family and she had hoped for a beautiful lush landscape like what she had left behind. She made the best of her situation and made do with what she had. And as if a reward of some sort from the God’s she learned about Fruita, a green grass oasis in the center of red rock country where the Mormon pioneers were planting fruit trees in the desert. Who had heard of such a thing? That’s where Capitol Reef National Park comes in. Long
By Nicole Anderson before it was established a National Park in 1971 Capitol Reef was home to archaic hunters and gatherers and is lush with history, petroglyphs that tell a story, green meadows, and fruit trees galore planted in the late 1800s. And just like the pioneers, Magrethe and her descendants have since enjoyed this hidden treasure situated in south-central Utah next to the town of Torrey, deep in the heart of red rock country. Capitol Reef National Park earns its spot among the acclaimed Mighty Five as a mecca for red rock lovers who like a bit of tranquility to go with their hiking. The park is full of cliffs,
Photo/Jim X
Photo/Denes Miles
My Grandma says I have “itchy feet.” Not the athlete’s foot kind of itch, but the kind of itch when your soul is filled with wanderlust for the outdoors. I guess she’s right and I came by it honestly. Generations before I was born a great migration took place and my great-great-grandmother Magrethe, found herself leaving her homeland in Denmark when she was a young girl to come to America to build a better life for our family. When she left Denmark, her father was a farmer and if you weren’t Lutheran you weren’t allowed to own land, leaving very few options for work to support a family. With that came a decision that created new opportunities for generations to follow and thus the family waved goodbye to their relatives, boarded a boat, and embarked on a journey of a lifetime. The voyage across the ocean was rough with waves crashing against the bow of the boat so hard that when Magrethe’s brothers went up on deck a wave sloshed across the deck almost taking the boys out to sea. So, when they announced arriving at the St. Lawrence River, Magrethe and the rest of the passengers were thrilled. Upon arriving in the states Magrethe continued making her way to Utah by way of two different trains and a muddy stagecoach ride through some of the roughest country her new homeland had to offer. Finally, she reached her destination in central Utah and as she stood staring out into the vast openness and bleak desert
An old barn, left, in the town on Fruita, Utah lies inside the Capitol Reef’s redrock wonderland. A hiker’s shadow precedes his footsteps down a Capitol Reef trail, right.
www.GatewaytoCanyonCountry.com 31
Hickman Bridge Trail Not far from the ice cream shop you will find the Hickman Bridge trail, one of the most popular hikes in the park and makes it into my families top five; it is just right for groups with small children. Coming in at just two miles round-trip the trail follows alongside the Fremont River. Once you reach the Hickman Bridge be prepared for the awe-inspiring view of this 133-foot natural bridge. Rim Overlook Trail and Navajo Knobs The Waterpocket Fold defines this National Park. A nearly 100-mile long warp in the Earth’s crust, the Waterpocket
MARBLE CANYON LODGE
OPEN YEAR ROUND
Photo/Nicole Anderson
canyons, domes, and bridges, not to mention the Waterpocket Fold, a geologic wrinkle on earth. Not all National Parks are a hiking parks, but luck be a lady, this one is and boasts over 15 hikes but only a few trails have made it to my families list of favorites. Capitol Reef seems to have hikes that suits almost everyone, there are short to medium hikes, flat trails and those with elevation gains, and there is even a hike to a natural bridge. The most popular hikes in Capitol Reef offers a wide-variety of hiking. As we wandered around the park we made a quick stop in the historic district of Fruita where you will find deer frolicking through the campground, the Fremont river trickling downstream behind the Gifford House, a small shop-museum combo that sells ice cream and pie among other handmade trinkets. View from a Capitol Reef campground.
T
Fold, formed sometime between 50 and 70 million years ago, is what is known as a classic monocline with “step-up” in the rock layers. An incredible vantage point to take in this geologic feature is from the Rim Overlook Trail and Navajo Knobs, an extension of the Hickman Bridge Trail. The overlook is 2.3 miles up the trail and provides some of the best panoramic views in the park. If you decide to double the distance you will reach Navajo Knobs, a series of white sandstone spires, complete with an otherworldly appearance. While this trail has some of the
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T p F y f
n p G w a a i m t
h H c t
h t f
a m g
a l
Photo/Denes Miles
Photo/Tom Doe Some trails lead to stunning vistas, such as this one.
best views in the park the entire trail is well marked and will take you a grueling 9.2 miles round-trip gaining well over 1,600 feet in elevation.
vantage points that Capitol Reef has to offer. I can imagine Magrethe laying on the grassy lawn staring up into the dark night sky. Did I mention that Capitol Reef is a Gold-tier International Dark Sky Park? Dreaming of her family back home in Denmark, looking at the same stars they saw while they were lying on their lawn staring up at the sky, eating an ice cream with her family and picking fruit from the same trees that I picked fruit from on my last visit to the park. Regardless of what you do (or don’t do) on your trip to Capitol Reef, you are in for a trip of a lifetime. This park offers its natural beauty and untouched wilderness that provides you the peace of mind you hoped to find on your vacation. Capitol Reef is a special place; you can almost feel it in the air.
Fremont River Trail Another short hike favorite is the Fremont River Trail. The round-trip hike is just under two miles and starts at the park’s amphitheater on a paved pathway that follows along the Fremont River. Once you travel about four-tenths of a mile into your hike, plan to start climbing a ridge. At the end, you will find an overlook to view the canyon and the river below. Cassidy Arch Trail We continued after our stop for ice cream to Cassidy Arch, named after the famous Butch Cassidy. The arch is large and picturesque as it sits 400 feet above the scenic drive and the Grand Wash Trail. It is a great diversion on any trip and what would hiking in Utah’s Red-Rock country be without seeing an arch? The trail to Cassidy Arch starts on the slickrock for a three-and-a-half mile, round-trip journey gaining 670 feet in elevation making this a steep one. even so, it is suitable for most adults but with very steep drop offs making it not great for those who are afraid of heights. The Golden Throne Trail Finally, the Golden Throne, a nice four-mile, round-trip hike gaining 730 feet in elevation with beautiful views of the Henry Mountains along the way and takes you to the goldencolored Navajo sandstone around a dome-shaped mountain that happens to be one of Capitol Reef’s most-visible features. Camping in Capitol Reef is another great reason to visit and has several different campgrounds from which to choose. Even though the park is a renowned member of the Mighty Five it is far less crowded than the others in the state. If there are still too many people for your liking you can always get a free backcountry permit, generally reserved for more serious hikers who want to explore the narrow, twisting gorges, grottoes and slot canyons. I’m not certain if my great-great-grandmother hiked any or all of these trails but I know many of her loved-ones have hiked, laughed, climbed trees, and shared many of the beautiful
Photo/Nicole Anderson
The uncrowded Capitol Reef trails offer solitude for those who seek it.
Petroglyph panels, such as the one above, remind visitors that they’re not the first ones to walk these trails.
www.GatewaytoCanyonCountry.com 33
A father’s stance on paddleboarding
During a family paddleboarding session, dad learns that daughter comes first, ego second.
By Steven Law Photo by Dana Law
Roo dangles her feet in the water while her dad rows a paddleboard across Lake Powell. Living in Page, just a few miles from Lake Powell, l see a lot of photos of my friends paddleboarding on the lake when I look at Facebook. It looks like a lot of fun. It looks peaceful paddling through one of the lake’s myriad placid side canyons. It looks like a fun family activity. I see photos of my friends paddling across the lake with their little kids sitting cross-legged on the board in front of them, and lying on their stomachs peering into the clear water over which they glide. And I imagine my little family doing the same. I picture my two-year-old daughter lying on the board, trailing her fingers in the water, then pulling them out and watching the water drip off. I’m standing a couple feet behind her rowing the paddleboard we share steadily forward across turquoise water that’s flat as a cookie sheet. My wife paddles her own paddleboard beside us. The turquoise water turns dark as we paddle deeper into a canyon and pass from the sun into the cliff shadow. My daughter now sees her face reflected on the surface of the dark water, like when you see it mirrored on the surface of a gleaming, black
34 Gateway to Canyon Country
piano. That’s when I’d look over at my wife and we’d share a look that says, this is almost perfect. But, that’s not how it happened at all. Because I have terrible balance, apparently. In early June l borrowed two paddleboards and my wife, daughter and I took them to Lone Rock where we planned to spend the afternoon trying them out. It was a Friday and Lone Rock was already crowded with dozens of RVs and tents camped along the lake’s edge, and the occupants of those RVs and tents were playing on the lake. Some were jet-skiing, some were water skiing, some were fishing. Some were floating in shallow water relaxing on inflatable water toys. Kids were building sand castles and mud holes. We pulled our Jeep into a space among the RVs and unloaded our paddleboards, beach blanket, sun umbrella and cooler and staked out some turf on the beach. Smell of sunscreen and the outboard exhaust, which on Lake Powell is the smell of summer. It’s shortly after noon and our daughter is hungry so while my wife and daughter sit on the beach blanket in the shade of the umbrella and eat lunch, I put on my lifejacket and venture
out for my first ride on the paddleboard. I’ll just paddle out to the buoy and back to get warmed up while they’re eating, then we’ll all go out together. I carry the board into about a foot of water and step up onto it. I don’t get my foot centered quite well enough and it tips to the side and dumps me off. I try it again, this time taking more care to center my foot on the board. I step onto it with my first foot, balance myself and step on with my second foot. The board wobbles side to side like an ambling manatee and, once again, pitches me off the side. “It’s a little harder than it looks,” I call to my wife. The next time I lie on the board on my belly, which is way more stable, but as soon as I rise up to my knees the boards starts wobbling around again. I don’t get my weight balanced quickly enough and I fall off the board again. I have to say I’m a little surprised that I can’t even stand up on the board, let alone paddle along with purpose. I see people do this all the time and they make it look really easy. By now my wife and daughter have finished eating and they’re ready to play in the water. My wife tells me that, after watching me flounder around, she’s just going to straddle the board and paddle it like a kayak. We have brought with us a kayak paddle, just in case this happened and Dana gets it from the Jeep. She and Roo put on lifejackets. Dana sits on the paddleboard first, and once she’s comfortably seated I place Roo on the board in front of her, where she sits cross-legged. I
give them a little push to get them going. Dana points her nose to deep water and paddles. Our daughter is content to sit on the board and take in her surroundings, which are quite spectacular. And pretty. Amazing. Directly in front of them are some short yellow-brown cliffs from the Jurassic era. On their two o’clock, in the far distance, are some pink and purple cliff faces. And Lone Rock, rising out of the still bay, stands at their eleven o’clock. My wife and daughter venture out onto the lake about 400 feet where they turn around and come back. The paddleboarding equivalent of dipping one’s toes in the water. The nose of their paddleboard hits the sand but Roo isn’t anywhere close to being done with this invigorating new venture. I mean, what could be better than gliding over a lake, where you can peer into its depths, and trailing your fingers through its warmth? The ego-ist in me – which prior to the birth of my daughter comprised about 90 percent of my personality and identity – wants to hop on a standup paddleboard and practice until I get it down. It’s just a matter of balancing and perfecting my stance. A little persistence and I got this. But being a dad is far, far different than my former life. I am now the father of daughter who, during her two and a half years on earth, has proved to be a curious and smart creature who is very inquisitive and engaged with the world. And with such commendable attributes in mind, my wife and l have dedicated this as the year that we introduce our daughter to the next level of outdoor engagement, with experiences that are more active than passive. Maybe a little more dangerous than safe. Maybe. Cautiously. But still, activities that foster and develop those great human
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qualities of curiosity and observance. Because she’s taking it in. She’s conscious, aware. Excited about this opportunity to glide over this strange liquid surface. She’s more than happy to be engaged with her natural surroundings. So this year we’re upping our game in an effort to introduce her to the wider world. So, with that in mind, I set my ego aside, as fathers must do for their daughters, and now it’s my turn to straddle the board. My wife, with a wry grin on her lovely face, hands me the kayak paddle. And I paddle us out into deep water. “We’ll go to that buoy and back,” l tell her, “but next time we’ll go all the way around Lone Rock. And I’ll be standing the whole way.” Roo doesn’t reply to my utterance but she changes her position from meditation lotus and edges to the starboard side of the board and dangles her feet in the lukewarm, first week of June water. And when I get close enough to shore to make eye contact with my wife we share a look that says, This is almost perfect. Stand up paddleboarding a wonderful way to spend an afternoon on Lake Powell. And sit down paddleboarding is pretty great too.
Photo by Steven Law
Photo by Dana Law
After a little practice the author starts to get the hang of standing up on his paddleboard.
36 Gateway to Canyon Country
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Five traditions
That will make your next campout a standout By Olivia Meikle
38 Gateway to Canyon Country
Photo/Sergiy Bykhunenko www.GatewaytoCanyonCountry.com 39
Even for experienced campers, taking kids camping can be overwhelming. The gear and the planning needs multiply exponentially, and sometimes it hardly seems worth the trouble. But by slowing the pace of your next trip and adding a few new traditions to the mix your next family campout can be a standout. In my family growing up, camping was a big deal. Every summer we would set off for Big Cottonwood Canyon for a full week of dirt, s’mores, and streams. These are some of my favorite childhood memories, and as an adult I now fully appreciate what an overwhelming task it was to take six kids camping for a week. My parents made it look effortless. A large of part of that ease came because they established consistent rituals and traditions that let us know what to expect while still keeping camping exciting. We carried these traditions on with our own children, while adding some new traditions of our own. One of my mom’s smartest camping strategies was bringing a new dollar-store toy for each kid for each day of our trip. We would await the opening of the big red chest after lunch every day, wondering what new joy was in store. The rest of the afternoon was spent enjoying our new treasure, whether it was a plastic bow and arrow set, a Frisbee, or a small package of Army men. The toys filled in the holes between chasing squir-
rels, identifying new insect life and setting marshmallows on fire, and gave my parents a break from having to keep us constantly entertained. And all at less than a dollar a day. Another must-do activity at our family campouts is rock painting. This is a great way to create a yearly ritual and also build a collection of souvenirs from your camping adventures. Every year during our campout, each person chooses a rock to paint. This is a
Photo/Goodluz serious decision, and finding the perfect rock often takes a lot of deliberation. The table is covered with plastic, grandma breaks out the paints (regular acrylic craft paint works best) and everyone joins in. The finished product might be anything – a landscape on a flat smooth stone, a gargoyle created with the contours of a particularly strange formation, representations of current world or fam-
Continued pg. 42
Photo/Alex Ishchenko
40 Gateway to Canyon Country
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Photo/Micro Monkey ily events – anything your imagination can supply. Everyone participates, from grandpa to the toddler barely old enough to hold a paintbrush, and the resulting art is proudly displayed year-round on grandma’s deck. Over the decades, the rocks have become treasured artifacts, and everyone enjoys finding their own particular masterpieces when we visit. There aren’t many ways to create priceless family heirlooms with almost no cost, so this one is highly recommended. If your campsite has a small stream near-
by, another fantastic, kid-friendly activity is boat racing If you have a small, safe stream running through your site, bring along some cheap plastic boats and watch your kids design elaborate courses for their boats. Using sticks, rocks and leaves, they’ll spend hours creating obstacles and eddies to make their race more exciting. This leaves you free to prepare dinner, set up camp or even just read a book. Just make sure you’ve thoroughly dammed up the end of the course so their boats don’t disappear downstream
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at the end of the race (Make sure that the stream is absolutely safe before you let your kids wade in and remember, for the very small ones, be sure a grown-up is always on duty). Another variation is for older kids to create their own boats out of pieces of wood, twigs, leaves, twine or glue. Kids who are familiar with whittling can carve their own watercraft and younger ones can find an already-boat-shaped stick to decorate. The added personal touch makes their boat’s victories all the sweeter. The very simplest camping traditions come from just doing something differently than you would at home. Food is an easy way to accomplish this. For example, “sugar cereal” is generally not allowed at our house, but we always make sure to bring some along for camping and it’s become one of my kids’ favorite parts of the trip. You can bring a big box of a fun, “forbidden” item or several small surprises to dole out day by day. My kids are especially big fans of single serving boxes so they can choose a different forbidden fruit each day. Another beloved camping tradition we picked up from my husband’s family is making s’mores for “breakfast dessert.” Any kind of unusual or not usually allowed food can be a big deal for kids, so on your next trip, find a way to bend the rules and watch your kids grin.
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www.GatewaytoCanyonCountry.com 43
Heat it and beat it
Story and photos by Steven Law
Creating metalwork art with Blacksmith Adventures I was the first client to arrive so I had a chance to look around a little before the other participants showed up and class started. Blacksmith Adventures is located inside a non-descript warehouse off highway 89A in Kanab. Other than the highway it’s surrounded by farm and pastureland, the hay in the hayfields already well on its way to the season’s first cutting. I stepped inside the warehouse where I found George Witzke, Blacksmith Adventure’s co-owner and class instructor. He was engaged in shaping a long piece of iron with a large, hydraulic stamp, but he paused his work long enough to wave me inside and say, “Welcome!” I stepped farther inside and watched him for a minute while my eyes adjusted from the bright summer light to the dimmer light of the warehouse. The piece of metal my instructor was working had cooled and he thrust in back in the forge to re-heat. While it was re-heating he walked over, shook my hand and we introduced ourselves. I knew from the first hand shake that I was going to like George. I would learn during my blacksmithing course that George has made his living as a blacksmith for the last 25 years, and he possesses a warm, natural amiability that any PR man or salesman would envy, and emulate. George’s warehouse is a working blacksmith shop. When he’s not teaching classes George works on smaller pieces of metal art that he sells at art shows, as well as larger, custom made pieces. A very ornate, finely detailed and nearly finished garden gate consisting of ivy and leaves shaped from iron leans against one of the warehouse walls, waiting for an afternoon when George can add to it. George’s tools hang on the walls and other sit on shelves. Raw metal of various carbon grades and various shapes and lengths are arranged on
44 Gateway to Canyon Country
other shelves. Almost all of George’s tools are custom made. If he needs a holepunch he finds a piece of metal off the shelf and forges it into a holepunch. If he needs a new set of tongs, he forges and hammers himself a new set of tongs. I love that idea. A few minutes later the other two blacksmith students arrive. They are Stan and Joy Levanduski. They’re of retirement age. They’re in the process of moving from California to Florida and along the way they’re taking five months to drive across the country taking in as many sights and experiences as they can along the way. After we’ve all introduces ourselves, George started the class. During the course of the class each student will forge and shape their own ornamental hook. It may not sound like much, but the owners of Blacksmith Adventures selected it because making a proper decorative hook requires many blacksmithing skills that are within a beginner’s abilities, and the amount of work and detailing required to make one takes about two and a half hours. We start with a piece of iron about ten inches long. During the two and a half hour course we’ll learn how to shape one end of it into a taper, then bend it, twist it and curl it. Our instructor, George, makes his hook along with the rest of us. His is the demonstration piece. He demonstrate each step of the process on his hook, after which he turns us loose to repeat the step ourselves while he roams among us giving pointers and advice if needed. This is the first time blacksmithing for all the students and because of that we make quite a few mistakes. No big deal, says George. “That’s one of the things I like about working with iron,” he said. “I can fix your mistakes.” Each student has his or her own work station which comes equipped with
Joy Levanduski heats a piece of metal in the forge, above. A student twists a hot piece of metal, below.
A
Our instructor, George Witzke, demonstrates for Joy how to form a taper on a bar of hot metal. anvil, tongs for handling the hot iron, hole punches and other tools necessary to complete the job. We start by placing our piece of raw metal into the forge. All the students share the same forge. The forge is heated by propane fire. The metal bars are soon glowing red. Using my tongs I remove the iron bar from the forge, take it to my anvil and using a hammer, begin applying the first step, which is tapering one end of the bar. I’m able to get in about a dozen good hits before the metal has cooled to the point where it’s no longer malleable. I take it back to the forge and reheat it. Stan and Joy also bring their metal back to the forge for reheating. The communal forge is a great part of the class. While our metal reheats we have time to converse and get to know each other. George also takes this time to tell us about the history of blacksmithing and the different qualities of metals, each one different because of it carbon content. My two and half hours at Blacksmith
Adventures was the highlight of my week! I had so much fun forging, bending and shaping the metal. The hands-on aspect made it so much more educational, and the visceral experience of banging on hot metal was enlightening. I thought shaping the metal would require sheer force, but a surprising amount of finesse was involved as well. George, a master blacksmith with 25 years experience, was a wealth of knowledge and he was happy to share it with his curious clients during the interludes while our metal heated in the forge. He was very patient working with three newbies fumbling their way through metal shaping for the first time. Joy loved it too. “It was fabulous!,” she said. “The hands-on aspect was very appealing to me. It was really great pounding on some hot metal and shaping it into something both artistic and useful. I’m going to use the hook outside my hot tub and hang my towel on it.”
Stan Levanduski starting the shaping process.
www.GatewaytoCanyonCountry.com 45
Blacksmith Adventures offers two class levels: Taste of Fire is a one hour class during which participants will be introduced to the forge and anvil and create a horsehead-shaped bottle opener. Flirting with Fire is a two and a half hour class where the instruction and experience is more involved. Taste of Fire costs $40 per person. Flirting with Fire costs $95 per person. Blacksmith Adventures is located in Kanab, Utah at 2540 S. Hwy 89A. 575-313-4650 www.flirtwithfire.com
The final part of the project is bending the hooks.
Joy and Stan Levanduski proudly display the ornamental hooks they created during their time at Blacksmith Adventures.
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A solo adventure into a hidden paradise
By Kyla Rivas Photo by Kyla Rivas
The author passes several other kayakers on Lake Powell during her solo journey. When people think of kayaking on Lake Powell they most likely picture a happy group of kayakers joyfully making their way across the lake’s placid blue-green surface with a blissful sun shining down upon them blessing their voyage. This wasn’t one of those trips. This was a soul-searching trip. Lake Powell was the perfect medium and my kayak was the perfect vessel to search for that thing I was looking for. I never knew how much kayaking on the lake could rejuvenate the soul. The rhythm of my paddle slicing through the water and then back into the air was almost poetic. Antelope Point has long been my favorite spot to put a kayak in the water. The area is a place full of small hidden canyon waterways that have been a mystery for so long. After four years of kayaking the lake, I set out, once again, to explore some new canyons. This time I chose to explore Antelope Creek. From my starting point at Antelope Point Marina it’s a short distance downlake. Finding the right line to get there is pure fun and promises adventure. Only small vessels such as a kayak can make way into the beautiful and narrow canyon inlets.
48 Gateway to Canyon Country
I figured I should cut straight across the water, but since the weather was beautiful, and there was minimal wind, a lot of other people had the same idea and I found the land was too congested with boats and jet skis, so I kept my little one-seat kayak hugged close to the shore. I didn’t want to risk tipping from the wakes made by the boaters and jet skiers. They love to rock the kayaks. So, I had two choices; leave from the marina dock and round the northwest shore and cross the open water or use the southeast shore and cross a smaller body of water plus enjoy the scene. I decided to take the easy scenic route on the southeast side of the Point. It was the best choice because I witnessed the love of life radiated onto the lake from the people having fun on the shore. Fishing must have been good, I assumed, when a line whizzed right up to the side of my vessel. The people who flung it out, of course, laughed wildly. Early bird kayakers on the way back to the pier slid past and nodded. Gliding down the shore I witnessed the treasure of memories that people were presently creating and it gave me the confidence to commit to the adventure.
T
As a novice kayaker, my love of it keeps me alert to learning new things. Paddling is easy to learn but practicing it is critical and balance is mastered once you take that first spin into the water. One should never forget how the water can always, and will, surprise you if you neglect water safety. One moment comes to mind easily; the time I tried to park on a lagoon-like shore during my first time exploring Antelope Point. I got closer to the inlet but couldn’t straighten out to park the bow on the muddy shore. I purposely tipped over and out with my kayak in tow. But the inlet had a weird undertow and no matter how hard I swam, I just kept treading water. I was 15-20 feet offshore and it was 15 feet to the bottom of the lake with no footholds below. I moved forward only inches after a few minutes and I knew I was burning too much energy. I am forever grateful the life jacket that I had on fit snug and held me up. I kept calm and thought it through, telling myself panic is the worse thing to do. So, I let my body float to save energy, and in this particular inlet, it turned out to be the right thing to do. Once I started to float on my back, the undertow ushered me sideways towards a sand rock peninsula. The water literally parked me up on the flat side of the rock, kayak and all. I sat on that rock completely in awe of the phenomenon with a new respect for the lake. It was a spiritual experience for sure. I actually never stopped there again, despite its unique beauty. It was definitely a moment I will never forget, and as I went past, that spot remains unchanged today. I kept on with my journey through the water with smooth even strides, careful to not make a mistake in judgment by getting too lost in thought. As I rounded the big curve I could see the entirety of Antelope Point. I was enamored by the size and beauty. My confidence started to wane as I read the water. The lake was
swollen high and the wakes near the neck of Antelope Creek rippled closer together. I had to fight the panic of “what-ifs”. I really didn’t want the shock of a wet exit into 64-degree water after being in the 94-degree heat. I was nervous, yet I soldiered on, slow and steady. I got closer to the neck of Antelope Creek where the walls of both shorelines looked like gates to another world. I had to make it across, come what may, to find the canyons. It was 400 feet straight across or 600 at an angle. I told myself to turn back but I had to see the mysterious canyons. After four years of small journeys from Antelope Point I could see only good signs. I drank some water and rested my arms a few minutes. I used the hatch cover for shade on my head and I dipped my hat into the water. With long even strokes the paddle sliced then pulled on the water. I was flying fast towards my destination. The wakes became less choppy. Even jet skiers slowed down for me. Everybody on the water seemed to know what I was doing. A small but notable accomplishment and I made it! Pleased with myself I let friction slow me down. My face and arms went numb and the air cooled my face. I got my bearings and pushed on farther to see what I could. I once heard stories about how the water levels submerged signs of ancient life. As I got closer to the first small inlet I noticed footholds carved into the rocks. Or was it just erosion from the wind. I couldn’t be sure. On average, the inlets measure roughly eight-13 feet in width and are sometimes only 30-50 feet in length. I didn’t want to have to swim out if I got stuck. But I wanted to see it, to see everything, so I kept going. I went on to the next canyon and I could see beautiful banks of red clay, which, when wet, can become treacherous quicksand so I
Photo by Kyla Rivas
The author encounters a fisherman and his kids out recreating.
www.GatewaytoCanyonCountry.com 49
stayed in the kayak and paddled back out. There was more to see and I didn’t want to linger near that clay. I went on to the next site and found a small cove with a flat base big enough to walk on, and that’s where I tied up my kayak and explored on foot. It was a serene site. One where I could imagine many of my ancestors had found just as beautiful. It was larger than the last two sites and the same footholds were in the walls. I could only imagine who met here, perhaps a hopeful couple, or ancestors. Desert sage bushes hung over the canyon walls where red clay bonded them. Birds landed and chirped making this location seemed more like a paradise. I sat there and thought this adventure was worth it. I unpacked a lunch and refueled. Before long a tour boat full of people drove past with everybody waving at me. Pulled from my time traveling mind, I chuckled and decided to move on. I found an inlet that stretched so far back into the Creek that I felt like I was traveling like sand in an hourglass. It kept getting narrower and narrower until the rocks were bright red. Water levels had risen enough for me to paddle into its farthest corner and I got close enough to peer into a high crevice in the rocks, until I could barely see a small cavern within. A small stream entered the opening in the canyon wall and the water was being absorbed into the ground. I wondered what the ancestors who had travelled here must have thought of this place. I just breathed in the moment. I felt like I might be crossing a sacred boundary if I stepped out here. There were places to park but I stayed in the kayak. With the cool shade and birds chirping above I leaned back and once again felt connected to the land and water.
But now I had to return. I made my way out of the Creek and headed towards the northwest side of the Point. I didn’t want to waste the last few hours of sunlight and wanted to take my time going back. But this is where the gauntlet of obstacles really began. Crossing here meant steady rowing across at least 900 feet with traffic from numerous vessels which traveled this lane. The wakes were rough and the undertow strong. I realized I was suddenly on a precipice of a new challenge. As a novice kayaker, I felt a sharpened sense of fear; the kind that acutely makes you aware of too much. I could make it work for me if I stayed focused. So, I buttoned down, swept to an angle, checked for traffic and went for it. I’d pay for it tomorrow because I couldn’t stay still long lest I chance surprising a speedboat. I pushed with all my energy. The shoreline began to get close. It was an unpredictable accomplishment but I did it, I got across. In this moment, I knew coming back to Antelope Point Marina would never feel the same. I made it to shore and rested. I was safe but near exhaustion. I needed to stand up and shout to the world, I did it! I was happy. Then back into the kayak. The northwest shore was a different scene of parked houseboats and skeletons of big bonfire cookouts. Kids who were on top of a giant inner tube tethered to a boat held on so fierce and squealed for the boat to go faster. As I pasted boats tied to the shore, people stepped on their decks to say hi and fishermen nodded in my direction. I smiled back wondering if they knew what I had just seen. There was a familiar kinship on this side of the lake where I felt rewarded and welcomed.
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Discover A Majestic Canyon Nature’s Masterpiece
Lower Antelope Canyon KEN’S TOURS 52 Gateway to Canyon Country
Call or email us, phone: (928) 606-2168 e-mail: kens.tour. booking@outlook.com. Visit our webite: lowerantelope. com. We are located at Lake Powell Navajo Tribal Park, LeChee, AZ. Follow or like us on Facebook and Instagram.