Showing posts from March, 2014

on just being there

Despite all the celluloid and digital records I've made of this canyon, I’ve never had a moment where I could say that’s a keeper, I believe because all attempts to replicate fail on so many levels compared to Zion's contextual impact on just being there, especially with someone you love. For me there’s little point in pulling out a print to look at Watchman, the Narrows, or Angels’ Landing, when the real thing is a short drive away. But that doesn’t stop me from photographing it. 

I’ve hiked most of Zion’s trails always with appreciation of the many hands of the Civilian Conservation Corps’ incredibly hard work to make navigating Zion accessible, if not a lot easier. While my grandfather is fondly remembered for his part of the CCC’s movement in the thirties, this trek began with gratitude for the following generation, the company of my daughter.
Observation Point is accessed from the trail head at Weeping Rock. Its two thousand foot ascent ramps up quickly, engaging swit…

Atlatl Mecca

There's a kind of cosmic camping serendipity that both graces and curses our adventures when we decide to rough it amidst the public. The grace is in a timing that affords us an unanticipated cultural experience. The curse is relative the amount of noise created by neighboring roughers after sunset and before sunrise and the rotation of the planet in between.

This was our first camping trip in the H3 and being we're still outfitting for overland travel to more primitive, less populated areas, it wasn't yet prepped to carry the water we'd need to be self-sustaining. Valley of Fire was our choice for the trip, far enough away from St. George and in the right, warmer direction.

We arrived at the park's visitors' center (Valley of Fire is a Nevada State Park that does not accept National Park passes) where we learned not surprisingly that all the campsites were full. Mindy's optimism pressed us on to the Atlatl Campsite in hopes we'd find a vacancy, and we…