Jason and jenn

It was 10 years ago that I first walked into the Wind River Range. Seems such a short length of time. 10 years ago I was in school, had started studying Recreation and Parks but was unsure where it would lead. And now here I am in Pinedale.

July has flown by and it is almost August.  The Wind River Mountains retain some snow up high, but the range looks as it typically does this time of year. There is familiarity in Pinedale, at the trailheads, in the mountains. We know the range well, though we could spend the rest of our lives exploring here and never see it all. Still, we have grown accustomed to the scenery and it rarely excites as it used to. What is it they say about familiarity?

And yet the range is still home. It is still a place of comfort and beauty. Much like any good relationship the excitement has waned (slightly), but the peace, familiarity, and joy remains.  And like any relationship, there are bound to be storms.

On July 13, Jenn and I reached the summit of Haystack via the North Face routes wet cracks.  We could see the skyline growing darker. We hustled toward the descent route in the North Gully, making good time down the 3^rd class, rubble filled gash in the mountain. Thunder rumbled all around and it started raining just as we reached the mandatory rappel. We rigged our single rope and tossed it, watching it come short of the nice big grassy ledge below.  Jenn went first and reached a small stance where she began down climbing the now soaking wet slabs. I followed, pulling the rope and tossing it to the ledge below. Once safely on the ledge we headed back to our stashed packs. It was raining harder now and the wind had really picked up. Then came the hail. Stinging little BB sized ice that battered us in our exposed position.  The hail stung our faces and the wind kept us off balance on slick slabs. We ran back to the Gully, hoping to find some shelter. We hunkered down behind a small outcrop, just enough for some reprieve, but now we were fully sitting in a waterfall. We looked at each other and laughed! What else to do?

On July 19, We were hiking up Boulder Canyon and had almost reached Lake Vera when the skies opened again. There was no separation between flash and bang as the thunder echoed all around us. We were in the middle of the storm. We donned all our rain gear and sat about 150 feet apart with our packs, tucking our faces down to once again avoid the blasts of hail and rain. This one was short lived, and soon the sun was back out and we were hiking. We smiled. It was my birthday and boy did I ever feel alive.

Wild places will do that to you. They will be fickle and unresponsive to your needs. But the sense of being in nature, of experiencing, up close, the joys and wonders that are part of our world is a validation, truly inspiring awe, far more so than any lofty work of man.

And so my passion remains for this place. But more so my passion remains for nature, and for introducing these awe inspiring places to others. 10 years later, I am again in school, again taking a leap. This time, with the benefit of experience, I know my path is right. I am just unsure where exactly it may lead.

Kicking steps in the firm snow as I climb toward the saddle, I do not look up. It is too far. I don’t want to know. Instead I look down. There’s Jenn, just a little bit behind, laboring with a pack carrying skis and boots and gear for a day. Beyond and below is a long slope of snow, patches of rock and krummholz showing through. Further down there is spring. Wildflowers carpet the meadows. Elk, the ones we startled earlier, are browsing next to snowmelt streams in stands of aspen and pine. The aspen leaves are fully out. Their hues, combined with the colors of the grass, wildflowers, and the separate greens of sage and pine all become the palette of my soul.

Lifting my eyes a bit more while my heart rate regulates and my lungs stop burning, I see the near peaks of the Gros Ventre, then the distant Wind Rivers. I try to pick out Temple on the southern end, but it is obscured by haze. I turn back to my job, kicking steps and climbing toward the summit. Are we getting close? I dare a look up.

There is nothing above but snow and sky. The bounty of colors below fades. My world becomes nothing but white and blue. Or black. The sky, cloudless, is impossibly dark where it meets the snow. I stare in disbelief for a moment, and then resume the task at hand. I feel the weight of the skis on my back, the lactic acid in my legs. I think about what the view of the Tetons will be like when we reach the summit, and how the turns we make on skis today will be our first in well over a year. Jenn is paused below, looking back over her shoulder.

It is morning. July first. June is over. I am getting ready to go back to work. Our adventures lately have centered around Pinedale. We’ve hiked through an old burn looking for golden trout in a high lake. We’ve climbed, established new routes. But mostly, we’ve just felt the unwieldy stresses of life melt off when we stare at the new moon sky, catch the smell of juniper, reach the top of a climb, or most recently, when we rounded the bend to Green River lakes.

The upper Green River valley is truly a rio verde right now. The banks are swolen with run-off and the many hues of green glow as you drive past. This valley, especially starting at the Forest Service boundary, is as beautiful as the Lamar or Hayden valleys in Yellowstone, especially once you round the big bend in the green and see Squaretop flanked by Big Sheep and Osborn mountains and the glacier green lakes. The view is as lovely as any in a national park. Maybe better for the road is gravel and poor, the campground modest and empty, the river uncrowded with fishermen, the trails uncrowded with day hikers. There is no giant lodge on the shore of the lake, no boat to transport you across so you can shave time off your hike.

There are negatives to the freedoms. The 20+ boyscouts we encountered leaving the mountains with their fishing poles, axes, and guns. Their leaders very proud to be teaching them how to “survive” in the wilderness by felling trees and chasing away bears with large caliber weapons.

But the Wind Rivers are healthy enough to weather these challenges. Groups like the National Outdoor Leadership School saw the error of their “old ways” and helped establish the Leave No Trace organization.  Maybe some Mormon boy scout leader will one day have a vision of his own, and usher in a new and more delicate way of living in the mountains.

I crave, as always, more. More time among the peaks and the desert. More freedom to explore the upper valleys that we’ve seen on our trips. It is a spiritual longing. One I must answer.

“The mountains are calling, and I must go.” -John Muir

Amazing. Five years of marriage. Celebrated in our typical fashion with a trip in the van.  We were living in Zion for our first anniversary, and made the drive to Pinedale to celebrate.  So for our fifth, we decided a trip to the Utah desert was in order.

We had only driven past the San Rafael Swell on all our travels, never stopping to explore the sixty mile long San Rafael Reef that runs generally north to south like a breaking wave of sandstone over the sage-brush plain. Our first stop was in Black Dragon Wash, home to some Fremont rock art including a red colored bird-like pictograph (the Black Dragon), and other wonders of late spring in the swell. We saw Globemallow, Skyrocket, Prickly Pear, and Primrose.  Jenn looked for her favorite desert flower, the Sego Lilly, but their time has come and gone.  We hiked in shorts, t-shirts, and sandals, enjoying the heat of the desert and the quiet comfort of years of similar hikes.

Back at the van we made our way south to Goblin Valley State Park (Utah has some amazing state parks), where we wandered around the “goblins” and through mud-rock canyons. The” rock” here is mostly dry mud enveloping sandstone boulders. In a less arid environment this would have been long since eroded away, but the dry desert turns the mud-mixed-with-sand into adobe-like cement, which holds together – and is often protected by – sandstone boulders. This makes for some crazy features.

Out of the park and on public land, we found a great camp in a box canyon near Little Wild Horse Mesa, complete with shade, great views of the San Rafael Reef, and a nice flat parking spot. After dinner we walked around the flanks of the mesa, checking out rocks and picking out what our limited geological knowledge could recall. Alluvial fans, faults, arroyos.  We talked about past adventures, both counting an April spent in southern Utah as one of our favorites.  On that trip we had discussed the future. We could have never guessed where the following 3 years would take us.

We hiked the loop of Little Wild Horse Canyon and Bell Canyon, starting early in the morning to avoid crowds. Walking the line between sun and shade, we could choose warm or cool. Both felt equally perfect. The narrows of Little Wild Horse were quite fun, and the open desert hiking between the two canyons offered some nice views. As usual, our conversation shifted between current and past stories as well as making plans for our future, wondering what the next five years might look like. We agreed that it would look a lot different than we probably think, but that we would continue living life as fully and richly as possible, not settling for lives of Thoreau’s quiet desperation.

Next we were on to Hanksville and then toward Capital Reef where we stopped in the lushly irrigated Fruita. Capital Reef features orchards, and the park service maintains them as a historical part of the park. The tiny Fremont River irrigates (due to much work by Mormon settlers) the area and this has created a stunning contrast of red rock and fertile green canyon bottom.  Giant cottonwoods and rows of fruit trees line the drive. We enjoyed a peach pie (yes, they sell pies in a national park) and then hiked the Chimney Rock Trail, a nice loop that climbed onto a mesa where we could see past the Waterpocket Fold down to the Henry Mountains, the last mountain range in the US to be explored (by white men at least). Utah landscapes never disappoint.

Dinner was at Café Diablo in Torrey, a great little place in that sleepy town and a perfect anniversary dinner. Then we were off toward Salt Lake. The drive from Torrey to Salt Lake is a somewhat boring affair, but was made interesting by a wonderful sunset thunderstorm in the distance that made for a great light show. Fireworks for our anniversary.

The next day we climbed in Little Cottonwood Canyon and did a few around town things while in Salt Lake, then drove back to Pinedale and our beloved Greater Yellowstone Ecosystem, where most of the remainder of our summer adventures will center.

Cottonwood Wash – Jason Burton, 6/21/11

The wind
in the Cottonwood
in the canyon
sounds like water
The green
of the leaves
set against the stark
red desert rock
provides evidence of the sound
The heat
the desert sun
on my skin
pale becoming
red as stone
The feel
of my drying lips
reminding me
I a stranger here

Yellowstone in June (at least in 2011) is a wonderful variety. We entered the park via the South Entrance and the Tetons, though clouds obscured all but the lowest flanks of that classic fault-block range.  We came up the night before, hitting Snake River Brewing with our friends Evan and Melissa and their friends Clayton and Katie. We met Evan and Melissa (twins) as kids in Sequoia a few years ago and it’s awesome to see them come into their own as adults. They are much older than their years and are awesome people who we hope to keep up with for years to come.  Parked outside their accommodations in Teton in the rain, we slept soundly after a lively night of conversation and story.

After showing our pass to the nice gentleman in the booth (could have been me!?) at the entrance station, we were transported into winter. The plowed drifts on the side of the road were taller than our van at times and there is still two to three feet of snow on the ground in most places on the drive toward West Thumb. We passed a still ice and snow covered Lewis Lake, and the trailheads to Heart and Ribbon lakes were inaccessible due to snow. The steady rain kept us from putting on our skis for a short tour, and the snow lessened as we got lower in Elevation near Yellowstone Lake.

Yellowstone Lake was surprisingly still mostly ice, with some open water around the edges (especially where the hot springs of geyser basins warm the water. Driving into the Hayden Valley we met early spring. The Hayden Valley is one of the most beautiful in the park, and one of the best for wildlife. Here we saw our first Bison babies (at a distance), but mostly the scene was dominated by water. The Yellowstone was far out of its banks and the meadows were turned to shallow lakes. Swaths of snow from winter drifts still hung on the rolling hills and we could see Canada Geese everywhere we looked. The valley was starting to come to life, but had yet to turn into the oasis of green it will become.

At Canyon we re-entered winter. Kids were throwing snowballs and riding make-shift sleds down the plowed snow piles. Even the lovely concession workers were complaining about the weather. Dunraven pass was still closed. “Ten feet of snow up there still,” reported a ranger to a disbelieving visitor. We stopped near Norris for lunch and a rest in the van. A handful of elk grazed the meadow and then disappeared.  I watched the water, typically a meandering stream, but now a wide river. Still, the current revealed the normal channel. I remembered the Trumpeter Swan we had seen there in the fall, and wondered where she might be this time of year.

At Mammoth we found spring. Flowers, grass turning green, and no snow. We also found people, so we quickly headed toward Tower, where we found a campsite at 5pm, not a typical occurrence in the summer months.  We hiked the the trail to Tower Fall, then followed it all the way down to the River, enjoying the trail all to ourselves. Back at camp we ate dinner beneath the hatch of the van while we watched some hipsters set up their retro tent, wondering if their love of irony and all things vintage would be enough to keep them warm and dry through the night.

The next morning we were greeted by no rain and the threat of sunshine. Leaving camp, we met a mother and two baby Big Horn Sheep on the road. It was hard to imagine creatures so small and cute growing into the brutes they will become. It was also a joy to watch them nimbly maneuver on rocks along the road. Typical of Yellowstone tourists, we stopped in the middle of the road and took pictures. But the scene was ours. We caused no traffic jam.

Our destination for the trip neared, the Lamar Valley. Entering the valley, the swollen Lamar River churned mightily as it entered its canyon. In the valley though, it looked peaceful yet muddy, and our attention was drawn to Bison, bison babies and the wolf watchers. Ever since their re-introduction to the park, wolves have dominated the conversation in the Greater Yellowstone. I’m not exactly sure why folks both love wolves enough to devote their waking hours to tracking them in Yellowstone or why others hate them equally passionately, devoting their days to disparaging wolves and dreaming of labeling them a nuisance animal with the coyote. Shoot. Shovel. Shut up.

The mountains of Yellowstone are typically not as impressive as the Winds or the Tetons, but in these spring conditions, with loads of snow on their flanks, they really stood out.  It is hard to label Yellowstone.  Some come for the wildlife, and indeed it is as rich a sanctuary (zoo) for wildlife as we have in the US. It is also an amazing geological area, not just for the volcanic and thermal features, but the variety of geology, the mountains of the Madison and Absaroka ranges that flank it, the colors, the glacial erratics.  We are glad to have finally gotten to Yellowstone in early season. The rivers were too full for fishing. But then that leaves good reason for yet another trip.

I am standing in the braces. The water moving and us with it.  A white pelican flies along the river. A bull moose rests on the bank. The Wind River mountains shine under a snow pack that makes the old timers stop talking about how bad winters used to be.  The willows and sage are starting to green. The cottonwoods and aspen aren’t quite ready. Around a bend a great blue heron takes flight as we come into view.

But my mind is on the water. The cut bank. The riffle at the edge of the eddy. The deep channel that flanks the sand-bar. This is where they are hiding. This is where they are feeding. These are the places i might see the strike. Might set the hook. Maybe even land a fish.

Spring in Kentucky. It’s been a while.

The temperatures have already hit 80 degrees. Our trees are budding and leafing out already. The spring rains have made for a lush green lawn. Flowers are up and beautiful. Skunks are mating. Under our house!!!

So we were rudely awoken at 6am to the sounds of animals in our crawl space. I had closed off all access to our crawl space after last years destruction of our duct work by punk groundhogs. Or at least I thought I had. Turns out there was a space between two blocks that had been filled with foam insulation that some critters managed to knock out the foam to get access to our nice warmish crawlspace.

Now, having skunks getting busy under our crawlspace has been a learning experience. It turns out that when skunks are mating, they often spray during the process. And so just after being woken up that morning, we were soon scrambling to get out of the house due to the odor of burning rubber and bad starbucks coffee. Skunk spray at closest range smells worse than just about anything we’ve ever smelled.

It’s been nearly a month and thanks to much airing out, spraying with vanilla, much candle burning, and a little chlorine dioxide treatment, we’re mostly back to normal. I closed up the gaps that allowed the critters in (at night, while they were out on the prowl) and we haven’t had any repeat episodes of that dreadful morning. We’re planning to celebrate with an April fools party (we’re the fools) where we’re asking guests to wear black and white.

School is going well. I have 4 papers to write in the next 4 weeks, but the subject matter is mostly enjoyable and I’m having a great time learning the art of public administration, though it makes my disdain for the political landscape grow. Sometimes i wish i was just in school to learn subsistence farming.

Next up for us is summer working in Pinedale at the Great Outdoor Shop. We’re super excited to be heading back to Wyoming for the summer. We truly feel like we have two homes. We’ll be there for 3 months. Can’t wait! But for now Jenn is getting ready for a big dance show, we’re getting out and playing when we can, doing work around the house, and I’m steadily writing some songs. Life tends to be good and all our struggles just give us reason to grow and that just adds to the story.

Grad school. Lots of mid-term stuff to do this week. It’s monday. I’m procrastinating on studying for my budgeting homework. I’ll update the blog!

School is going well. I am learning a lot, staying incredibly busy, and loving my cohort in the MPA program. Work is great, and i like that I am familiar with what i’m doing, that there is not a learning curve for both school and work.

The winter has been long by Kentucky standards, lots of snow, though never quite enough for real fun. We’ve really settled into the house and love our little place. Still, we are restless at times. Our wandering vagabond type tendencies are occasionally strong.  We’ve been re-connecting with old friends, making new ones, and generally loving life. I’ve been battling a pinched nerve and some other issues that have caused me some grief. I am changing life habits and visiting a local chiropractor to combat this. It seems to be working.

We recently accepted jobs in Wyoming for the summer, working at the Great Outdoor Shop in Pinedale. This will allow us 3 days off a week, we’ll work with wonderful people, and get to hang out in our Wyoming home for the summer. We are very excited about this, and jenn is particularly eager to get out of a job that is not fulfilling in any way for her. We’ll just be there for 3 months, then back to school for me, and another job search for jenn. I hope she finds something better this time.

This week is mid-terms for me, then spring break. It truly is turning to spring here. We’ve had days in the 60s, lots of rain, and i feel like things are starting to turn green. Life is trying to push through.

There it is, all that i can procrastinate for the day. Back to the books!

When we first moved away from Kentucky, I got in the habit of keeping the most minimalisst of journals. In a little calendar with 1″x1″  boxes i would write down little tidbits of my days (at least most of them). This might include something as simple as “Dinner at Whiptail” or “Iron Messiah with Muff/Aaron”. This doesn’t include much detail, but those are in my memory and the simple little box in a calendar can make those memories flood back.

I just started my 2011 version and am getting ready to file away 2010. Here are the highlights from a very memorable year. Sorry you can’t see all the details that are in my mind as i type them!

January
- Skied on Fremont Lake to Ice Climbing. Surprised my parents with a trip to Kentucky to help Jenn on the house! Skiing at Targhee with Terry before a show in Jackson

February
- Backcountry trip to Togwotee pass area.  Skied  Angle Moutain (twice) and toured around for turns on Two Ocean Mountain. Targhee Again. Lots of bouldering.

March
- Bed back in the van! Angle Mountain (again) with jenn. Fishing. Show in Big Piney (guy had a stroke during my performance). Science Rockets play at the Wort (two night stand). Jenn girls trip to San Diego. Jason trip to Escalante with Evan and crew from OK. Coyote Gulch! First day on rock in Pinedale. Started packing up the apartment!

April
- Powder day at White Pine (skinned up). Sinks canyon climbing with Josh and Justin. Lots of new routes at the Ranch climbing area. Trip to Zion! Iphone (jenn’s idea!)

May
-  Jenn got her bike (Ellingwood). Bolting @ the Ranch. Boulder Colorado for Climbing Wall Conference. Lizard rocks climbing. Saw a bunch of moose in Jackson. Hiked halfmoon. Bear tracks on Glimpse lake trail. Busted a pulley tendon in my ring finger after sending the 5.12c at the wall. Moved out of the appartment and into school district housing.

June
-  Climbed the Godzilla crack clean (5.11ish). Tie Hacks at battle of the bands in Idaho (amazing!). John and I have a fun adventure gig in the mountains riding a UTV in deep mud. More climbing development. Tie Hacks playing lots of shows. Climbed Haystack in a day with Josh. PAID OFF HOUSE!

July
- Ryan and Virginia visit (good times). Climbed Mitchell in a day with Ryan. Bill Mallonee visits Pinedale and plays at the Rabbit. Trip out of scab creek on Horses with Jared and Jen. Kicked out of house because the school district forgot somebody else was moving in. Moved into “the blue trailer”.  Did the North Arete of Ellingwood with Josh in 3 days. Lindsay visit to Wyoming. Yellowstone trip (grizzly bears!). Put in my two weeks notice.

August
- Fatty tumor is benign! Living in the van! Last day at PAC. Jenn done at BLM. Hiked 100 miles over 9 amazing days through the Wind Rivers. Bozeman trip!

September
- “Home” to Kentucky. Working on the house. Mom doing better. Fixed HVAC. Groundhog dead! Old Friends and some rock climbing! Hot!

October
- Climbing in the Red River Gorge with Adam. Recording demos of new songs. Trip to New England.  Loved Ithaca NY, Middlebury VT. Purple Fiddle in Thomas WV is awesome.

November
- Back to work at EKU. Climbing at Pine Creek Crags. Music at Black Feather and in Louisville at the Rudyard Kipling. Jenn working at Boone Tavern.

December
- Climbing (Rocktown with Ryan and Blake).  More climbing at Pine Creek Crags.  Christmas! Skiied the backyard! Trip to Ohio (great time).  Bought a car (Nissan Versa)

Well, there is the synopsis. Not too exciting in the short form. How about a slideshow to go along with it: