Friday, November 27, 2009

I Thought I Heard a Buzzard Hiss My Name

Watching Over You

Get Dangerous and his buddies started talking, and you can rest assured the conversation will turn to how short life is. Right after our last adventure to southeastern Utah, Utah Jack read an article in the paper about a 60 year old man killed in a hiking accident. Maybe the man's age or the fact that he died in one of the canyons we visited a few weeks before got Dangerous telling anyone who would listen the old North West Indian legend about imminent death. According to the legend, sometimes a person receives a premonition about their impending death. You might hear them say, "I thought I heard the owl call my name."

I really think the legend is a bit too romantic for the High Plateau bunch. Those aren't owls circling over our heads as we ride and hike the canyon country. Even from my angle, I make out turkey vultures just waiting for an opportunity to swoop in. Take a look at these guys and you can tell there isn't anything mythical about their impending deaths. At their age, physical condition, and diet, you can rest assured that those circling buzzards don't have to whisper quietly in their ears because they already know they are one step or should I say horse ride away from their eternal rest.

Eat Right and Take Care of Yourself

You don't have to be a mind reader to figure out why those buzzards are up there waiting for the right opportunity. Circling overhead at 1500 feet they can pick out who eats right and takes care of themselves. I might be a sheep dog, but even I know diet pop won't ward of a premature buzzard visit when you consume 4,000 calories a day and clean up all the fat on your rib steak. Following the High Plateau diet plan may result in you hearing a buzzard call your name before your allotted time. Actually, turkey vultures don't call because they are mute. However, they do produce a loud hissing noise when agitated or excited. Can you imagine the hissing going on as they ponder the huge meal sitting in the chair next to the fire? "I thought I heard a buzzard hiss my name!"

The More You Eat the Wider You Get

Sitting around the old campfire stuffing your face can negatively affect your physical conditioning. The lack of muscle tone usually shows up in a certain part of your anatomy. Infrequent exercise and over eating doesn't prepare you for the rigors of climbing slick rock ledges and cliffs trying to see an Anasazi ruin perched high above your head. You can't see them, but those buzzards are patiently circling above waiting for one of these overweight, out of shape hikers to fall out of the tree. At their age and physical condition, these guys don't have any business climbing up and down trees to access Indian ruins. "I thought I heard a buzzard hiss my name!"

Who Says I'm Getting Old?

No matter your diet and physical conditioning, time alone takes its toll. Fremont Bob is convinced that time isn't affecting him; because he tells us all the time he will live to be 115. He is so confident about his longevity that he continues to buy young mules. For equines, mules are extremely long lived with life spans extending 40 years or more. I am no expert on the human condition, but a close look at the picture convinces me that Fremont ought to stick with old horses. A man's age isn't just reflected in those "laugh lines" around his eyes, but in changing behavior. Fremont has acquired a lap dog; now all he needs is a retirement condominium in St. George. "I thought I heard a buzzard hiss my name!"

Checking Out Final Resting Spots

As you probably know by now, Ol' Dangerous isn't the most optimistic human. He will tell you that a pessimist is really an optimist with all the facts. Well, there are times when I believe he takes his fact gathering and planning too far. Wherever we hike or ride, he is on the lookout for a nice burial spot. What's really embarrassing is he actually tries them out. Sometimes he will lie down on the ground to admire the view from different angles. I really get upset when he asks me to lie down next to him to see if there is room for both of us. "I thought I heard a buzzard hiss my name!"

Setting Sun

The sun might be setting on this bunch of aging outdoors-men, but I think they will continue in their old habits as long as they can. Red meat will be an ongoing part of their diets, and Utah Jack will avoid regular aerobic exercise at all costs. I am sure they will wear out more hiking boots and saddle leather before one of them admits to hearing "a buzzard calling his name!" Love to hear from you!

Thursday, November 12, 2009

Wilderness Tracks

Wilderness Canyon

A few days back, Dangerous and I were helping Utah Jack cut firewood. Dangerous noticed a trail head sign that he hadn't seen before, so we stopped to read it. Since I don't read, Dangerous tells me that the High Plateau country is the most remote wilderness remaining in the lower 48 states. Well, I didn't need the Forest Service to tell me that. I might not be able to read but I do know that once you leave Highway 12, Highway 24, or Highway 95 you don't see many other dogs or people. A few hardy souls like us wander the back country, but not many. That doesn't mean you don't have to share the few remaining wild places with others, and you will find evidence of those visitors scattered all over the landscape.

Hite Bridge, Highway 95

Stretching across the entire Colorado Plateau is a network of highways and roads. We use them regularly to access the many remote canyons that Dangerous and his buddies like to ride and hike. Without them, I suspect that Dangerous would saddle Dottie up and ride her to the places he wants to visit, but I don't relish the idea of trailing behind through all that rough, dry desert country. So, we constantly face a paradox. We might detest the highways and roads, but we choose to use them. If we didn't, we would be limited to a very small corner of our world.

Deer Tracks

There are a few permanent wilderness residents that we don't mind sharing the canyon country with. We are constantly on the lookout for mule deer. With me along, Dangerous complains that I scatter them before he gets a chance to get a close look. From my perspective, he is just too old and too slow to catch a glimpse of what I see close up even though I am usually on a dead run with my tongue hanging out. There are times, however, when he gets a close look. This time of year there are always a few big bucks hanging out in Capitol Reef orchards that he can admire. I have to stay in the truck, so I don't scatter the herd.

Capitol Reef Buck

Sorting through all the tracks we come across isn't easy even for an intelligent sheep dog like me. I sometimes can't tell the difference between a mule deer track and a desert bighorn hoof print. They're both cloven and smell about the same to me. You have to remember that I am a herding dog who depends more on sight than smell. However, there are times when even I can tell the difference between a deer and a sheep. Even at a distance you can tell that the buck in the picture has a full curl rather than a set of forked antlers.


Desert Bighorns

Dangerous and his buddies like to pretend they are the first people to visit or ride a canyon. However, Dangerous is the first to admit that there are few pristine wildernesses left, and none on the Colorado Plateau. Get him started and he will tell you that technically the only time this country was actually wilderness was 13,000 years ago. Since that time, humans have occupied and used the canyon country for their own purposes. That doesn't mean Dangerous doesn't want to see the High Plateau protected. It only means that men have been leaving their tracks here for thousands of years. In fact, one of the reasons we visit so often is to see the tracks these early visitors left behind.

Timeless Doorway

About the only difference between this door and the one in the Grover cabin is time. I know Utah Jack likes to think he is building for the future, but I rather doubt the place in Grover will last 750 or more years. I guess we can only hope that those who come after us wonder about us like we do about those who left the finger prints we frequently find in the mud holding ancient ruins together.

Ancient Finger Prints

Wherever you look, you find evidence of those who left these ancient finger prints. Using primitive tools, the ancient ones built lasting and imposing structures. Their buildings may not be as impressive as the Hite Bridge, but they have stood the test of time.

Anasazi Kiva

On the High Plateau, the tracks you find are very diverse. They include the tracks of permanent residents like mule deer and desert bighorn to the finger prints left by those who built this ancient kiva. Not far from this kiva is Arch Canyon. Sitting on the rim you can see the road traversing through pinion trees and red rock hundreds of feet below. These roads define our current culture and the struggle to preserve what little is left of the past. What you probably don't notice without careful study is another track this time left in the air. Can you find the airplane flying down Arch Canyon? It is a small but obvious dot in the middle of the picture hundreds of feet below the rim.

Arch Canyon Flight


Track Hunters

While the rest of the world is sitting at home, I suspect we will continue our wilderness wanderings. With some misgivings, we will haul the "Sheepdawg Kamp" or drag the horse trailer over the oiled tracks leading to the canyons we love. Dangerous and his buddies with me in tow will continue looking for mule deer, bighorn sheep, and the tracks they leave in the mud and sand. I am sure we will continue searching for the ancient ruins we have seen many times before, trying hard to avoid the intrusion of modern conveyances like airplanes and jeeps that frequent places like Arch Canyon. We don't like to share, but we have little choice in the matter. Love to hear from you!

Sunday, November 1, 2009

The Blue Bird of Paradise

Rosie and Dangerous Searching for the Elusive Bird

All great adventurers are usually stalking the countryside looking for something. After thousands of years, the quest for the Holy Grail continues to this day. Many lives have been lost seeking the treasure of the Sierra Madre, and with the latest revelation in the newspaper, the hunt for Everett Ruess is back on. Dangerous usually dreams up some pretty flimsy excuses to justify most of our back country trips, but this latest explanation was really thin. Do you think Trea actually believed him when he told her we were going to capture a "Blue Bird of Paradise?" Well, you can imagine her look when we showed up with one as an actual gift for her.

Sheep dogs are incapable of lying. We don't have the lips for it, so in all honesty, I have to tell you it didn't take us long to locate and capture a bird. Larry, Dangerous' friend, carved one for him, and all we had to do was drive to and from Boulder in a blinding snow storm to pick it up. It was worth the trip because not only did we get an award winning bird, but Larry and Judy fed us one of their world class Dutch oven dinners.

Larry and His Blue Ribbon Blue Jay

All great adventurers have their preferred means of travel. The Greeks plied the red wine sea in their trireme war ships. Powell floated the Colorado in his wooden dories, and Dangerous' ancestors crossed the plains to Utah in prairie schooners. Dangerous always makes me mention that Utah Jack's family arrived in Utah on a Continental Trailways bus directly from Sweden. Well, Dangerous continues his family's tradition by driving us around southeastern Utah in the "Great White Whale" towing a 19th Century sheep camp. No matter where we stop our rig attracts attention. Even those too polite to ask kink their necks trying to get a good look at our outfit. Dangerous never tires telling anyone who will listen that real western adventurers stay in sheep camps and not commercially manufactured travel trailers. Some of the Germans and French tourists actually believe him as they line up to take pictures.

"The Great White Whale" Parked at Hog Springs

Like all great seafaring vessels, our ship of the highways has a name. New England whalers frequently named their ships after wives, mothers, or sweethearts. Left to his own devices, I am sure Dangerous would have christened our trusty Bicentennial Highway vessel something like Rosie or Trea; but he didn't get the chance. While parked in Grover, Utah Jack named our rig "Sheepdawg Kamp," and labeled it accordingly. I guess I should be flattered, but all we get are strange looks as people pass us on the highway trying to decipher Utah's redneck spelling. With our new name, we are unmistakable as we drive down the highway. Give a wave and a honk if you spot us. I am the one riding in the bed of the truck. The three dummies are sitting up front.

"Sheepdawg Kamp" Parked at Mule Canyon

I have to tell you half the fun traveling with Dangerous and his buddies is getting there. The destination is important, but the journey is just as much fun. You should have been with us to watch and listen to Utah Jack and Nature Dan direct Dangerous as he backed the "kamp" into our selected site. Utah was standing at the back giving directions, and Nature Dan was on the the other side shouting instructions. As most of you know, Dangerous isn't a patient man. However, after politely asking one or the other to "shut-the-blank up" the "kamp" was successfully parked. As you can see, it wasn't long before the Camp Chef stove was out and the cooking started. Actually, the hiking started first, but we will get to that in my next blog. I have to admit, Utah's campsite selection was about ideal.

Love to hear from you!

Mule Canyon Sunset