Hidden Canyon

We search for a route over the rim of the canyon, but find nothing more than steep slickrock. The white face of the stone rounds at the rim, but quickly precipitates downward, sure to kill any man or beast that ventures over its edge.
 
To get here we pushed through wild manzanita and jumped over prickly pear cactus. I almost stepped on a blow snake. We can see our intended destination, an alcove up the narrow gorge, but a short and stubby chasm blocks our passage. We work our way down-canyon, always looking for a chute to the bottom.
 
At length we find an opening and slide down a channel of tangled scree and rock. Standing firm on the floor of the canyon we encounter a rivulet of water slowly meandering through the willows.
 

It feels remote down here. Tall wild grass grows along the floor and up the steep sides of the narrow canyon. Now and then a cottonwood tree takes shape along the bank and stretches upward, searching for sky. Bulrushes flourish along the swampy bottom. Light-footed skeeters float atop small puddles of water.
 
Coming around an elbow in the canyon we find an old Indian ruin perched high upon the cliff. Many of the walls of this ancient fortress are still intact, while others have tumbled. The location seems to be well hidden. I realize that as we were on top looking for a way down, we had stood directly over the ruin, never knowing it was there.
 
We continue up-canyon through many of the same obstacles: thick vegetation and rocky terrain. On our left the short and stubby chasm, on whose rim we had stood earlier, merges with our canyon. We climb up and over a bank to avoid a captured pool of water inside a stone pothole.
 
As we inch closer to our objective, the climb grows steeper and we fall to all fours, walking like bears up a dry stream bed of slickrock. Light rain begins to fall and we quicken our step. We push through another thicket of scrub oak and suddenly arrive at our destination.
 

Inside this hidden alcove sits a nearly perfect 800-year old Anasazi dwelling. It is rectangular in shape, with three rooms. Enduring on the east face is one door and one window. Other than two sections of walls that have collapsed, this ancient home appears much the same as when it was abandoned.
 
A close examination of the walls shows that the rocks were not cut as precisely as other ruins I have seen. But the mud-mortar that was used to fill the chinks and gaps has been well crafted to create relatively smooth edges. Small rocks have also been mixed in to fortify the paste.
 

My favorite part is the roof. Larger branches, probably two inches in diameter, serve as cross-beams, firmly planted within the adobe walls, and on top of those, positioned perpendicularly are a series of smaller branches, thatched together tightly with no gaps, and topped with mud. By looking at the condition of the lumber you would never guess it was eight centuries old.
 
I wonder the exact purpose of the rooms. Did they use them to sleep? Being a short person myself, I'm not sure that I could lay down and sleep comfortably inside one of these rooms. What did they sleep on—hard ground or perhaps a bed of twigs or leaves? And what about the mice that ran freely and burrowed in the dirt? Or the bats that nested on the eaves of the cliffs above?
 

Nearby are several metates and a mano, the grinding stones used to make corn meal. I also find a portion of a corn cob. I try to imagine where they grew their corn. Did they plant their crops on the flat plains above the canyons where soil was better, or perhaps down by the stream where water was more accessible? I know that when harvest season came, their dried corn became a precious commodity. Often I have seen granaries built within the hollow of a rock, high on a cliff and inaccessible without rope or ladder.
 
On the ground next to the structure is a broken piece of pottery. It is slightly curved and painted the color of ochre, with six dark diagonal lines. The fact that the sherd is colored, rather than black and white, shows that it was created during an advanced period. Judging from the slight curvature, I am guessing that this piece belonged to a larger olla, perhaps used to carry water or cook food.
 

We retrieve our lunch from my camouflaged day-pack and begin to build sandwiches, eating them while sitting on a log. It begins to rain lightly as we eat, but the overhang of the alcove keeps us dry. I can't help but to think of those who used to live here and how this large recess in the rock was their little haven. Not only did it provide a place for them to sleep and cook, but also protection from those who might want to harm them, or steal precious commodities.
 
We finish our sandwiches and load everything back into the pack. By now a few tiny drizzles of water tumble down the overhang. I am anxious to get back to the vehicle before the storm becomes too big and washes out the dirt roads. We push up a steep slope through wet leaves that slap across our clothing. The alcove behind us disappears and as we crest the hill we fast-forward 800 years to the present time. ♠

Brian Head Fourth of July

One of my favorite spots to watch fireworks is at Brian Head. The feel of the crisp mountain air and the reverberation through the pine-clad valley make for a memorable event.
 
We don't make it up every year. Some years we choose to keep it simple and stay at home. Other times the show is canceled due to drought. But we've been coming off and on for about fifteen years now, long enough I would dare call it a tradition. This year we decided to go again.
 

We watch the parade in town, then after lunch load up the vehicle and head for the mountain. We find a few patches of snow at higher elevations and a late crop of wildflowers. We spend the afternoon hiking through a grove of aspen.
 
Our family is getting smaller and it's kind of sad. This year Kaitlyn is away serving the country and Brittany is still gone serving on the other side of the veil. Both are on my mind.
 

Red Valley appears nothing like its name. On this July 4th it is a lush green with yellow dandelions sprinkled throughout. A small stream flows through the large meadow. Mosquitoes swarm in hordes around the flowing water, creating a miserable contrast to the otherwise beautiful surroundings of the forest. The stream flows from the meadow and through a culvert beneath the dirt road into a tangled mess of pine trees. Here grows a thriving community of white yarrow along the stream bed.
 
We set up camp chairs in a circle, away from the mosquitoes, and begin to grill a couple dozen hotdogs over a portable propane grill. On our paper plates we pile chips, potato salad and slices of watermelon that I haphazardly slice up using a hunting knife. It is a peaceful dinner away from anyone else.
 

As the sun approaches the horizon, we pack up our food and gear and begin the bumpy ride back to the highway. Along the way Jordan spots a tiny fawn with fresh white spots, small enough to be our dog. It hides behind a small sapling while we stop to steal a peak.
 
Just as the evening hues of sunset are glowing in the sky, we come into the mountain valley of Brian Head. Perhaps we should have come sooner. Hundreds of vehicles are parked in every nook and cranny and along every inch of highway. There are definitely more people here than the last time we came. We find what appears to be the last tract of park-able ground and squeeze in using my poorly-honed parallel parking skills.
 

We set up chairs and blankets along the slope near where we usually sit. There is music in the air and several private parties lighting off their own pyrotechnics. Side by sides filter in with antenna-like florescent lights poking above their machines. The atmosphere is chaotic and lively.
 
Jenelle is anxious to try her new inflatable banana seat, which she successfully inflates and plops down upon for a comfy front-row seat. Savanah is anxious to light some old sparklers that she found in the basement. I am anxious to sit down and watch the crowd and take in the atmosphere.
 

The elevation of Brian Head is just under 10,000 feet. During the winter it is a ski-lovers paradise and transforms into a haven for mountain bikers during the summer. Deer and elk roam the back-country and at night the mountain lions sometimes come out. There are patches of snow on the higher slopes, and even though it is July fourth, everyone is bundled up.
 
As soon as it is dark, the show begins. The bright blasts light up the basin and turn the slopes into shades of orange and red. Each boom bounces off the hills and echoes through the valley. As the show continues, the smoke builds and billows. Our view on the hillside is a grand view. Being Independence Day, I can't help but to think of the words penned by Francis Scott Key, “And the rocket's red glare, the bombs bursting in air . . .”
 

And once again my mind goes back to my shrinking family. Ever since Kaitlyn joined the military, I have looked at many things differently, including the Fourth of July. I can't help but to have a greater appreciation for those people and events in the past that have shaped our country and have given us—as well as the world—a greater measure of freedom.
 
And then I think of Brittany. Perhaps she is watching over us this very minute, or perhaps she is attending to other activities. I don't know. But I do know she is close to my thoughts, as I can vividly remember the day when she, too, sat with us in her camp-chair, bundled up in a coat and blanket, watching the lights in the sky. ♠

Daddy-Daughter Date at the Grand Canyon

There are few things in life that I enjoy more than playing show-and-tell with my kids.
 
Thirty-five years ago, my grandfather took two sprightly boys to the bottom of the Grand Canyon where we spent the night at the Phantom Ranch before trekking out the next morning. Little did he know that he had planted a seed that would germinate and continue to produce life three decades later.
 
I have now taken all my kids—whether in body or spirit—into the depths of the Grand Canyon. My latest adventure involved my two youngest daughters, Jenna and Savanah. I was able to show. Now, they will do the telling . . .
 
[My first question is asked from the rim of the canyon, before having hiked down.]
 
Dad: Tell me your overall first impressions of the Grand Canyon.
 
Savanah: It's pretty. It's super steep, too.
 
Jenna: It is big. Cameras don't do it justice. It is pretty. There is a lot of variety, too. You could see different kinds of river bends, like rapids. Different rock colors, rock shapes, rock textures. Even on the way up we could see a big change in environment from forest to straight-on desert.
 

Near South Kaibab Trailhead, looking down.

Steps built into the trail.

Looking over Cedar Ridge and O'Neill Butte.

[We are now at Cedar Ridge, just 1.5 miles into the hike.]
 
Dad: Tell me about the hike down so far.
 
Savanah: It's kind of steep. And it's really clumpy and rocky. The view's really nice though. It's cool to see the different layers in the rocks and how big the Grand Canyon is.
 
Dad: Jenna, describe our travels of today.
 
Jenna: We woke up around 4:30, Arizona time. The sun's not out. It is very dark, very cold. We quickly packed up camp and moved it in our car. Then we tried to hurry as fast as we could to the shuttle, but by then it was already 5:30, so we had to wait in line for another ten minutes for the shuttle to come. We came over here. We had to rush to the bathrooms so we weren't stuck in line and then we started our journey. Now we are hiking it. There are a lot of people. But it's nice being here in the morning. It brings out a lot of colors and gives you a chance to cool down. The trail is a pretty good path. There are a lot of steps and everything is lined in stones on the outside, so that's helpful.
 

Skeleton Point.

Arch on the skyline.

[Now we have hiked 4.6 miles and are resting at a spot called The Tipoff. We have passed Skeleton Point, which gave us our first view of the Colorado River.]
 
Dad: How far does it feel like we've hiked?
 
Savanah: Like ten miles!
 
Jenna: Three.
 
Dad: Describe to me how your body feels.
 
Savanah: I don't know why my leg keeps shaking. Other than that I feel good. My feet kind of hurt.
 
Jenna: I feel amazing, like I could hike another ten miles. I have no problems other than a rock in my shoe, but I should be able to get that out.
 
Dad: What is the one thing that has stood out to you the most on the hike down?
 
Savanah: Three things—first of all the view, because the view is super good and you are able to see the Colorado River from certain spots. And second, it's kind of cool how there's a random arch in the middle of the Grand Canyon. And then the ethnicity of the people around us and how they come from all over the world.
 
Jenna: When you walk with the edge on one side of you and you just look straight, it feels like you are walking on the sky.
 

Howdy, partner!

Crazy Mexican lady loved to get selfies right next to the edge.

Good view of Colorado River and Black Suspension Bridge.

About to cross the bridge.

Indian ruins at the bottom of the canyon.

[We have crossed the Kaibab (or Black) Suspension Bridge and are momentarily resting on a sandy beach on the Colorado River.]
 
Dad: What are your impressions of the river?
 
Savanah: It's really pretty. It's really big, too. I thought it would be more blue, but it is greenish.
 
Jenna: It's pretty green. I'm surprised by the sand. And it's hot down here. Ninety-two degrees is the high today.
 
Dad: We just saw some Indian ruins. What do you think about Indians living way down here at the bottom of the Grand Canyon?
 
Jenna: They don't have any problems if no one else can come down here. So coming down to the bottom is a problem, but once they're down, they're safe.
 
Dad: Do you think it was tough to get down?
 
Savanah: Yeah. They were smart to do it, though, because they could plant their crops around the river and live around here and stuff. And the ruins are super close to the river.
 

Silver Bridge.

At the confluence of Colorado River and Pipe Creek.

[We take a lunch break at the confluence of the river and Pipe Creek. Just before we got here the clouds became dark and ominous and it felt as if a storm was about to hit us.]
 
Dad: Tell me about the recent weather we've been having.
 
Savanah: It was really cloudy, but now it's really bright and sunny, now that it's noon. It was pretty windy on our way here [hiking along the river], but now it's sunny.
 
Jenna: It's been really cloudy. About five minutes ago there were a lot of clouds and wind, but it's starting to go away, which makes me sad.
 
Dad: Tell me what you've done these last 45 minutes on this lunch break,where we are at and what you did.
 
Savanah: We're by the Colorado River. We're like two feet away from it. And we are sitting on these rocks and we had a protein bar, a sandwich and a homemade gatorade that Dad made out of this pile of stuff that he made. Super cool! And we did like a little photo shoot. It was really fun.
 
Dad: Jenna, can you tell me about your fall?
 
Jenna: I tripped. I can't remember how, but I went face-first. I didn't hit my face, but I scraped both of my legs. One leg is deep-cut and the other leg has tiny-spread little cuts. My hands are a little puffy and it temporarily stained my legs with red-rock sand.
 
Dad: Do your legs hurt now?
 
Jenna: No. They stopped hurting five seconds after I fell.
 
Dad: Did you have a hard time washing off the sand?
 
Jenna: Yes, it is a challenge to get the sand off.
 

Devil's Corkscrew.

Shaded alcove along the trail.

Photogenic lizard.

[The big shade trees at Indian Gardens have been cut down. We find shelter from the sun at a picnic table away from the crowd. I estimate we have hiked 11.8 miles to this point.]
 
Dad: Tell me about the heat on our hike up to Indian Gardens.
 
Savanah: The sun was out almost the entire time. There were barely any clouds. It was really hot. When we went in the cave it was a lot nicer. In the cave it was cooled off. Nobody could see us. Everyone was walking past on the trail and they couldn't see us or hear us or anything. But when we got out again it was still super hot and when we got to Indian Gardens it started to cool down a bit.
 
Dad: Describe the trail from our lunch spot on the river to Indian Gardens.
 
Jenna: It almost seemed like you were in the same place the entire time because it kind of looked the same throughout. We passed through the Devil's Corkscrew. That is where you have a lot of switchbacks, and after all the switchbacks and you look back, it looks like a corkscrew, and they named it Devil's Corkscrew. The trail doesn't have a lot of drop-offs near it. We came close to little creeks the entire time, passing over the creeks several times. During one time after the Devil's Corkscrew we had a look-off point. We passed some sort of watery something. It was like a trickling slide and it was wider and we had to go through that.
 
Dad: Describe Indian Gardens in as much detail as you can.
 
Savanah: Apparently there used to be two really big trees, but they cut them down where the water was. Where we were resting a bit, that was up the path a little bit from that and to the right, was like a little pergola and it had trees surrounding it and was really green and vibrant. There was a big rock where we ate that had a lizard on it. It [the lizard] was blue and looked like it did pushups.
 

Bright Angel Trail above Indian Gardens.

Endless switchbacks climbing out of the canyon.

Hair-pin turn on the Bright Angel Trail.

[From somewhere off the trail, in the midst of never-ending switchbacks.]
 
Dad: Give me a report on the trail since Indian Gardens:
 
Savanah: The trail after Indian Gardens was dry; it wasn't as green as Indian Gardens. Once we got to the switchbacks it was super windy. They've been going on [the switchbacks] for about an hour. I feel really tired. The only thing that actually hurts is my ankles.
 
Jenna: For a while there weren't any switchbacks. It was just a long trail with quite a few turns. After we hit the switchbacks they lasted for a good four miles, and we're still on them. An up-side is that we were in the shade for almost the entire time because we were along the wall and it was the first to get the shade along the canyon. My body feels good. I feel really tired, but I'm not exhausted, just sleepy tired. My feet hurt a bit. Also, we saw a helicopter fly in and out of Indian Gardens, from a bird's perspective.
 

At the top!

[Mission accomplished! Total distance: 16.7 miles. Total time: 11 hours 45 minutes. Elevation drop: 4,780 feet. Elevation gain: 4,380 feet. I am extremely proud of the girls. They did much better than I expected.]
 
Dad: How does it feel to be to the top?
 
Savanah: So nice! You feel so much more relaxed after an eighteen-mile hike that's super steep and rocky and goes back and forth a lot with all the switchbacks. So it feels super nice to be up at the top and relax. My feet still hurt.
 
Jenna: Amazing, but my feet hurt really bad.
 
Dad: What was the most memorable part of the entire hike?
 
Savanah: Probably going over the bridges and eating lunch.
 
Jenna: The hike! Also, looking down and knowing where you've gone.
 
Dad: Last question. Would you do it again?
 
Savanah: Maybe.
 
Jenna: Yes.
 

California Condor perched in a tree.

[After we think we we're done, we have one last experience while one the rim.]
 
Jenna: I looked over at a look-off point and I saw a pretty large bird flying around and I looked closer and looked at the bottom of its wings and saw white triangles, which means it was a California Condor. I saw its bald head too, so that helped. It had a little bit of white on the top of its wings, but that was a little hard to see. So I yelled, “Dad, it's a California Condor! Dad, it's a California Condor!” Then we watched it for a bit, but we weren't able to get too many good pictures until it got perched on a tree and covered in branches. We could see it, but we couldn't see it fly, which was sad.
 
Still Jenna: California Condors interest me because (1), it is my life goal to see one because they are an endangered species and there are like only 400 of them. And (2), they are only in this area and our area, which is the Bryce Canyon area. And (3), because they are the second largest bird in the world. ♠

Post-hike pizza party at Tusayan.

Pioneer Cemetery—Spanish Fork

Mary Catherine Redd fell ill on a spring day in 1851.
 
Her family had sold their farm in Tennessee and came west with the Saints. Shortly after arriving in the Salt Lake Valley, John Hardison Redd moved his family 55 miles south, just above the present site of Spanish Fork.
 
They had built a log cabin and the men were busy in the field planting crops. As Mary Catherine lay sick she requested the company of her younger brother, Lemuel. He was hard at work plowing in the field and her father thought it best that he didn't come in until evening when the sun had set. Lemuel never made it to see his sister. Mary Catherine died within a few hours. She was only seventeen.
 
She was buried on a bluff overlooking the river bottoms. Others would follow. Another brother, John Holt Redd, was thrown from a horse and died from his injuries. Just three days later, his mother died from a broken heart. In 1858, John Hardison was killed after being kicked by a horse.
 
All four members were buried in what was known as the “Redd Cemetery.” Since then it has taken on other names such as Old Palmyra Graveyard, East Bench Graveyard and Upper Cemetery. Today it is known as Pioneer Heritage Cemetery.
 

The first time I visited the site, it wasn't what I expected. Nowadays it is surrounded by a modern subdivision with large houses. None of the original grave markers exist; instead there are 101 small headstones with no inscription. They are lined in semi-straight rows across neatly manicured grass.
 
The bluff still overlooks the Spanish Fork River basin and it isn't difficult to imagine how it may have looked 168 years ago. The riparian land of the river bottom is largely undeveloped except for a few farms.
 
Circumventing the cemetery is a walkway with several plaques and memorials giving the history of the graveyard. One lists 116 people who were buried here, all between the years 1851 and 1866. When the new cemetery in Spanish Fork was built around 1865, most citizens opted to be buried there. Many had their deceased family members exhumed and transferred to the new graveyard.
 

For many years the cemetery sat in disrepair. Weeds overran the property and occasionally cattle took advantage of failing fences and trampled the fragile site. In 1941, a project was taken up by the Daughters of Utah Pioneers to erect a monument and make a record of those buried in the cemetery. They scoured existing records and inspected the grounds where they managed to find only fragments of the original headstones.
 
After 1943, several groups took it upon themselves to maintain the little graveyard, cleaning it up and hauling water for the few plants and trees. In the early nineties, the owner gave the property to the city of Spanish Fork. Since that time a wrought-iron sign was made over the gateway of the cemetery. Boy Scouts have used Eagle Projects to install new headstones, and a statue of a pioneer family now adorns the grounds. Figuratively speaking, after a century and a half, the old pioneer cemetery has been resurrected.
 

A story is told about a Native American child named “Alpharetta” who was taken in by Mary Ann and John Boice. During the spring of 1854, the child's mother died in childbirth, and the father asked the Boice family if they could care for the child. Mary Ann cared for Alpharetta along with her own son, but soon Alpharetta died from the measles and was buried in this cemetery.
 
Sometime later, the Boice family was called to move to Kamas. While en route, they were surrounded by a band of angry Indians dressed in war paint. One of the braves, Alpharetta's father, recognized the family and got off his horse and convinced the chief to let them go in peace.
 
Stories like those of Alpharetta and Mary Catherine Redd abound at the Pioneer Cemetery in Spanish Fork. No doubt there are hundreds more, many of them lost forever. This is probably the biggest reason why I love visiting cemeteries. I always learn something new with each one I visit. Now, this solemn graveyard atop a bluff overlooking a river, will always have a soft place in my heart. ♠