Just the boys

Chubbs, Johnny Bo and myself went up on Pine Valley this last Friday after work. We rolled into our campsite on the hill across from Grass Valley around 7 o'clock. We drove from 93 degrees in the low lands to a perfect 63 on the mountain. The kids and the dogs were as happy to be there as me and we all ran around for a half hour before we set up camp and cooked some dinner. We had a fun night staying up late around the fire and looking at stars. In the morning after a dutch oven breakfast I hiked around the hills with the boys catching grasshoppers and collecting sticks and rocks. Boden would help Jett corner a grasshopper and tell him things like "watch out buddy, he's a spit er." While we were hiking a couple of F-16s came screaming over the mountain insanely low and right above our heads. Bodie and Chubbs thought that was pretty freaking cool. It was a really good time and all three of us agreed we should live up on top for the summer. Before we drove home we picked up all the garbage the local white trash had left behind. Both kids were happy to help even though at home it takes a heck of a lot to get them to clean their room. Even at such a young age they can see what is wrong with that picture.

Squirrel Canyon

Sittin in the fire light....feels good. Random bird's sing in the tree's surrounding camp. Fire crackles. Steady rolling of the small steam below. The light fading slowly behind the sandstone towers that surround us. The dog and I sit in silence and drink this all in. The hike in was quick. Racing the sun. 70 degrees with a slight breeze. Good trekking weather for early May in Southern Utah. My God this is calming. Re-charging to fight.....people, jobs, cities, civilization. Need to give myself a break. Need to give my wife a break. Hell,, even my kid's could use a break. Cant help them now, they will get theirs,,, some day, some how. I could make these trips quicker and less complicated by camping on the side of a dirt road with my truck instead of walking it out. The necessary feeling of isolation and freedom would not be as strong. Spent the first hour of complete darkness holding my pistol in paranoia from sounds above camp. Perhaps a polygamist who believes I am trespassing. Ha ha. Silly plig, this is OUR land. Wouldn't blame them if they did claim it. God knows if Cannan Mountain were my backyard I would claim it. Hell, its not my backyard and I claim it anyways. Have to admit I am offended and a little angry of any person in here rather than close friends or family. Wind picks up. The mood changes. I look at the dog, he has noticed as well. New sounds to hear, feel and understand. Woke up at sunrise to a high pitched and steady hum outside my tent. At first thought it was a far of whine of a motorcycle. Climbed out of my tent and found the source to be a large gathering of mosquito's waiting for me to come out and play. Although a little bothersome I would rather swat those little beggars off my ass all damn day than have it be a real live motorcycle coming up my canyon. Wish their were some kind of spray for those fuggers.

Feels like summer

Spring in Pine Valley

We camped up by Pinto this last weekend. Their was still some snow but not enough to turn us back. This was first trip of the year for the boy's and the first time we have camped with Aunt Tasha. Even though it was a little cold we had a blast. Played in the dirt, hiked down by the river, cooked dutch oven potatoes, slept in an old tent. Tons of stuff....... In the morning I cooked up the left overs in a 30 mile an hour wind while Tash , Bodie and Chubbs waited patiently in the truck. Besides the main road into town we didn't see another person all weekend. A kickass reward for camping in the snow and wind.

Back to Hack

This was my third year in a row that Iv hiked to Kanab Creek down through Hack Canyon. I might not do it again until another year has gone by and I forget how much this bastard hurts. I met up with a friend early Saturday afternoon and we cruised down the dirt road that snakes through the beginning of Hack. We hiked in under cloud cover so it was not bad at all. After throwing our pack's off at an old anasazi ruin /cowboy camp we crossed over Kanab Creek and headed up Lawson Canyon which I had been in once before and wanted to get up on top and take a look around. We killed the rest of the late afternoon up on top and hiked back to camp around sunset. After dinner we then killed a liter of whiskey and jumped around the fire telling stories and firing a pistola into the dry desert air. The temp was perfect and I stayed in shorts and t-shirt all night and even in the early morning. Even after three trip's into this area their is a hell of a lot more yet to explore. I love the place and would live their if I could.

Super tramp

Nah, not a super tramp but I did do a little trampin this last weekend. I backpacked up the Virgin River from the Gorge. It was a last second idea that would let me sleep outside like I was meant to and I figured I would be back to town around noon. After Jett's party on Saturday I hitched a ride from my Grandparent's and Mom who were heading to Mesquite. Along the way I heard about the horrible thing's that would be happening to me if I went through with this trip. " First of all I must have shit-4-brains since I was going alone, not to mention the back ho swallowing quicksand , the rattle snakes, the absurd miles I would have to walk and of course the Bear's." Their was more from my Mom and Gramp's but I think that was best of it. Yea ,yea that all sound's ridiculous but 25 minutes of that right before your dropped off alone in a place you have never actually been does hurt your confidence. Have to admit as I through on my pack and said goodbye I was not all that sure of myself or my plan. But as soon as hiked down the big dry wash to the bank of the river my mood changed quickly. Even with the freeway being only a quarter of a mile behind me the landscape provides a feeling of isolation and beauty. Really cool for me since most trip's around this country their is no water let alone a decent little stream. I only made it two or three miles up river before the sun was far enough gone that I was forced to make camp. I found a sweet spot to kill the night and was even able to find a couple pieces of painted pottery before the light's went out. The next morning I battled with myself trying to decide what to do. I needed to be back by noon and I hadn't put in even close to as many miles as I had hoped the evening before. Plus not knowing what the distance was to follow the Virgin back to St George or how ruff it was going to be I wussed out and decided to hike back up the Gorge along the freeway until I hit the Black Rock exit and could get cell service for a ride home. It was actually kind of fun. I felt like the hippies and bum's you see walking along highway's and through town's. I always have looked at that group with respect and a little envy. I got a bunch of untrusting and disgusted looks but also a couple friendly honk's from car's who I'd like to think respected and envied my walk. It even had a kind of vagrant ending. As I walked up to the Black Rock on ramp where my ride would be picking me up their was a sheriff parked. I dropped my pack and planted my ass in the dirt and weed's beside my dog. After about five minutes the officer pulled up by where I could see his face. I smiled and waved. He didn't smile , he didn't wave, but he did leave me alone and drove away.

Jett

My baby boy turned three today. Holy hell it has gone fast. I could swear it was only last year that he was about the size of his little sister Josie. If I could roll back the clock and get him that age again I would in a heart beat. Not that he isn't the funniest , cutest and just all around cool kid right now, because he is all that and more for sure. Just wish it lasted a little longer.