photography by wasim.

Tag: bryce canyon

3 National Parks, 3 States, 2 Weeks, 1 Crap Bag – Part 6 – They Could Have Been Serial Killers!

Oh yes…it was incredibly striking how the landscape changes immediately…literally immediately once you cross the border from Utah into Colorado. The golden red sand and tan desert hues that were the prominent feature for the past 5 days begin to melt away within mere miles of crossing over that invisible line, and they’re replaced with a green, lush, and seemingly more oxygen friendly palate. It was striking how quick and abrupt the transition was. After about an hour of climbing up a mild grade along increasingly green roadside fields and streams and rolling hills filled with meadows and rivers that could compete with the Palouse, it started to get steeper and steeper. After shaking off the plains of the desert behind us, it was hard not to embrace the fact that we were headed into arguably the most magnificent mountain range in the country…the Colorado Rockies. Not a bad introduction to the second half of this trip.

Being a huge mountain and running water and tree and forest guy, this is the point when my intuition coerced me sit back and just marinated in the environment that we were floating through. I immediately felt at home.

Our first proper stop in Colorado was about 3 hours in. My friend that joined me on this trip was itching to go fishing from the moment we left Los Angeles, and as we rode alongside a grand rushing river, it was killing him not to stop. Granted, I had no complaints, so we found a small town called Hot Sulphur Springs that ran right along the Colorado River. While he pulled out the tackle box and the rods and set up shop along the banks, and I decided to wander the town a bit – get a feel for this seemingly mythical landscape.

What I found in Hot Sulphur Springs was the kind of place where the local children tube down the river that connects their backyards, where the remains of an old ‘mercantile’ store sit beside the ancient whitewashed brick building that still serves as a post office, where children’s bikes are left strewn about in front of the ‘Town Hall,’ where the trout run rampant and the sheriff stops in just to say hello. The sort of place where a stranger sees you walking in the streets, asks where you’re headed, and then offers you a ride (yes…that happened…not once, but twice. Coming from L.A., I had no idea what to do with that).

This sort of place. Is Colorado.

After a little more than an hour of hanging out in this charming town, it was time to get back on the road. We still had to make it through Rocky Mountain National Park, over the ‘hills’ that divide the East and West of our great country, down through Estes Park, and finally into Loveland, Colorado, along the front range of the Rockies, where a mutual friend that was putting us up for a few days lives and was waiting for us with a fresh home cooked ‘supper.’

Now, if the day ended at this moment, it would have been a perfect day, but it didn’t, and what it still had in store for us blew my hot damn mind into stratospheres I have only thus far read about and admired from calendars and picture books and vague recollections of out of print geography class text books. The next leg of our trip was taking us directly through Rocky Mountain National Park, and as soon as we entered that gate, it was like Mama Nature’s magic wand went ballistic.

We rode into the official park entrance along the 34 highway, otherwise known as Trail Ridge Road, just as the sun began it’s decent over the western range of the valley, and we couldn’t have been in a more perfect position. The centerpiece of this part of the park is an insanely stunning elk and deer-laden meadow that stretches a solid couple of miles through the center of a valley flanked by aspens and Douglas firs and purple ponderosa pines. When the sun is setting in a flawless meadow, and everything starts to glow pink and purple and gold, there’s only one thing you’re required to do – hit the bloody brakes and get out of the car.

Now.

We parked alongside the road, I grabbed my camera, and ran directly out into the middle of the meadow. By now, my buddy knew the drill…I was gonna be a while. So he gave in and gladly grabbed his fishing pole, and jumped into the stream. He did his thing and I did mine. I felt like a frickin’ child running around and ducking and hiding and frolicking in the 3-foot tall blades of grass, grabbing every angle and light beam and cloud formation I can in my viewfinder before the sun disappeared behind the range. This went on for a good 45 minutes where nothing. Else. Mattered. And this was the sight where I made some of my favorite images of the trip.

However, there was still a good drive ahead of us to get through the park and over onto the front range and we knew that. What we didn’t know was the surprise that awaited us just a few miles up the road…I don’t know why it didn’t even occur to us until we were in the midst of it, but all of a sudden, we’re driving, the trees begin to disappear, we realize we’re way above the tree-line and that’s when we saw it…the sign: Continental Divide – 11,000 feet. We were literally at the top of the Rocky Mountains, the dividing line where the East meets the West, the top of the fence from which the waters flow east into the Atlantic and west into the Pacific. We were driving along a ridge line where we were simultaneously watching the sun set on one side and the moon rising on the other. The timing was psychotically impeccable. And in this situation, when you’re literally on top of the world, there’s only one thing you’re required to do – yup…you guessed it, hit the bloody brakes and get out of the car!

This is where I’ll let the pictures in the gallery at the end of this post try to do the talking/typing…they won’t nearly do it justice, but, well, it might just be one of those things you have to experience for yourself. It’s like that.

Now the sun was down, the moon was up, and we hunkered back down in the car for the 2 hours that lie ahead of us through Estes Park and into Loveland, Colorado. We rolled in to our friend’s casa, exchanged hugs and pleasantries, and did what any group of long-separated friends do when they get together…ate and drank. We popped open a bottle of wine, settled down on the table outside with our plates of fresh salmon, asparagus, and grilled vegetables and laughed and drank and merried til’ we passed out, one by one, in the warm summer air – the sounds of Coloradoan crickets and distant rush of the Big Thompson river lulling us to sleep.

zzzz…

If you’ve only just joined me on this “3 National Parks, 3 States, 2 weeks, 1 Crap Bag” journey, and would like to start at the beginning, click here.

Til next time…

For more of my madness: Instagram: @wasimofnazareth Twitter: @wasimofnazareth Google+: www.Google.com/+WasimMuklashy Facebook: www.Facebook.com/WasimOfNazareth

October 22, 2013
3 National Parks, 3 States, 2 Weeks, 1 Crap Bag – Part 5 – Hoodoo the Voodoo & Melee at Moab.

So we made it out of the Narrows, and with that, our days in Zion National Park come to a close. Under normal circumstances I’d say this was a shame, but these aren’t normal circumstances. We still have two National Parks to go on the way to a week in Colorado to celebrate a good friend’s wedding, so if we’re going to leave Zion, might as well do it on a high note, and if you’ve been following along the last several posts, we’re definitely coming out on top. Our next stop was Bryce Canyon National Park, so after our Narrows and rodeo adventure and a late night arrival and camp setup, there was no doubt that sleep was going to be no problem at all.

And it wasn’t…after a meal of delicious hot link ramen and a bottle of wine over a stubborn campfire of course.

We awoke the next morning to the smell of fresh pine and morning dew. I looked out the tent window and got my first glimpse of our environment as it was way too late and dark to see where and what were in for when we got in the night before. I almost felt like I was in the familiar Sierras…sitting in the shade of pine needles, brisk morning air that coupled perfectly with a steaming cup of coffee as the final remnants of the night fog transformed into evaporation on its way over the hillside behind our campsite. It was also this moment when we discovered the evidence of what seemed to be a large storm that had made its way out of the area no more than a few hours before we arrived – the puddles, the damp dirt, the water dripping down the embankment behind the campsite.

In any case, we only had one day allotted here so decided to make the best of it by getting as deep into the hoodoos in Bryce Canyon as we could in half a day. We did a bit of research and settled on the Navajo trail, a loop that would take us deep into the canyon and back up again over the course of about 4 or 5 miles, and, well, I’ll just jump right into it…while Zion National Park’s formations were insanely awe-inspiring and magnificent…these were just…just…weird! Where the sentiment in Zion was “this is justinsane!,” the sentiment in Bryce Canyon was, what the heck are these!??

We stood at the rim perplexedly staring at the strangest natural structures that perhaps exist. Sandstone spires that reach from dozens of feet to hundreds of feet into the sky, all originating at the base of a canyon that seems to be fairly well guarded from the elements. It’s like God was hauling a God-sized tractor trailer full of soft serve ice cream cones and s/he jackknifed at the top of this canyon, projecting all of its contents into this golden valley. But then upon closer inspection and deduction from the direction of the looming thunderstorm just on the horizon, you realize that this canyon seems a perfect corridor for heavy desert winds and rushing water from the plateaus above. But still…how do they get to look like this??

In any case, we descended into the valley and twisted and turned through miles of this madness. The way down was a brisk and mild pace, stopping every here and there to catch different angles of the weirdness from within. Granted we were now looking from the bottom up at them rather than from the top down, and it just got more bizarre with each step. It’s an extremely alien landscape that served as just another reminder that the tricks up Mother Nature’s sleeves are endlessly varied, but all equal reminders of our place amongst this vast unexplainable madness. After the steep climb up right through the middle of it, we hopped back in the car, got on the road, picked up some coffee and ice cream next to an old rusted German car just outside of Bryce (dunno…) , and off we went, hoping to get to Moab that evening to check out the Arches in the morning.

Thing is, we miscalculated how far it actually was and decided to do a bit of sight seeing on the way…but how could you NOT stop when there’re signs pointing out Indian carvings on a sandstone wall just off the side of the road (which, by the way, had me convinced that aliens existed back in their day…I mean, click here, look at these drawings…)? So we drove and drove and drove and drove and the landscape began to noticeably change from the warm sandswept orange hue to a very sterile and, well, freaky white tones…the sort of environment that you look at and can’t help but think there’s no way anything out here can sustain life! It was an almost apocalyptic feel – just a lot of HUUUUGEEE white barren sandy nothingness.

We finally started to close in on Moab, but by the time we got there, it was almost midnight and our main goal was finding something to eat…we figured we’d splurge on our first real meal since beginning this trip. We pulled up to the first open establishment we can find, parked right in front, and as we were ditching the smelly hiking gear for a spritz of Axe deodorant and fresh socks, a slightly disheveled man walked up to us with a message – not to park right in front of the bar as the police just wait outside, preying on people who walk out and get in their cars to leave. He then conveniently proceeded to tell us exactly where to park, which was essentially about two blocks and and a few turns away. I found this particularly odd that a local, who sees a truck full of gear and two obvious out of towners, is leading us directly somewhere for our safety. It might be the L.A. in me, but I couldn’t help but feel he was basically just leading us to a spot that perhaps a few of his friends might know about, giving him the perfect alibi that he was at the same bar we were.

I didn’t feel comfortable with this arrangement, so we just got back in the car and looked for another place…problem is, it was late and the options were slim. We were luckily able to find a spot, Frankie D’s Bar & Grill, and when we walked into a pool bar manned by a heavily tattooed bartender blasting Korn, we knew that this was the place for us…there was no way this bacon-cheese-jalapeno burger with a side of Negro Modelo was going to disappoint, and it didn’t.

It was too late to head into Arches National Park and risk not finding a campsite, so after a quick photo opp with the Gonzo Inn sign (the Hunter S. Thompson fanboy in me geeked out a bit…), we opted to camp at one of the small private campgrounds along the Colorado River just outside Moab. We popped open a few brews, started setting up camp, and we sat down to finally relax and let the day wind down. As I was wrapping my ankle that I must have tweaked somewhere along the way, I noticed a thing…I asked my friend for his flashlight, pointed it at the thing and realized we had just set up camp, loudly, on a site that already had a tent set up, it was just tucked away behind a thicket of trees.

We couldn’t help but laugh and feel bad at the same time, but the feel bad part fell away after a few beers and the realization that no one was in the tent…we picked up our tent while it was still assembled and just dragged it across the way to an open site.

We woke up the next morning, struck camp, and after a bit of deliberation, opted to skip Arches National Park. We were scheduled to make it all the way to Loveland, Colorado by nightfall where our friend was expecting us, so we had to decide between a 6 hour hike into Arches or making our way into Colorado to spend some time in Rocky Mountain National Park before heading into the front range. We figured we had plenty of desert and nothing was going to top Zion and Bryce, so let’s mix things up a bit…let’s do this Colorado thing…

So below is a selection of images from this part of the trip, and if you missed the first few parts of this “3 National Parks, 3 States, 2 Weeks, 1 Crap Bag” saga, just click HERE to go to the beginning. And if you’re ready to move onto Part 6, “They Could Have Been Serial Killers,” click HERE.

Til’ next time…

For more of my madness: Instagram: @wasimofnazareth Twitter: @wasimofnazareth Google+: www.Google.com/+WasimMuklashy Facebook: www.Facebook.com/WasimOfNazareth

October 2, 2013
3 National Parks, 3 States, 2 Weeks, 1 Crap Bag – Part 4 – From The River To The Rodeo.

We woke up the next morning to warm golden sunlight bathing the 2000-foot sandstone walls that surrounded us. If you don’t get up, stand up, and stare in absolute awe, you’re simply not human. We made ourselves a quick breakfast of oatmeal, powdered eggs (yummy…) and instant coffee (double yummy…), packed up our packs for the second half of this puppy, and hi-ho, hi-ho, back to the Narrows we go.

First order of business this fine morning was water. We were out of fresh water so our primary focus was to refill that. Instead of purifying river water, we decided to heed the advice of our shuttle driver from the last post, Chad from Rare Form Shuttle Services, and head to a natural spring that was supposedly just past campsite 12. So we started hiking through the river and after about a half mile, lo and behold, a natural spring shooting straight out of the sandstone walls directly into a freshwater pool…so not only were our Osprey and Gregory packs’ water bladders treated to nature’s Brita, but the added bonus of a refreshing bath in virgin Utah waters certainly helped start this second day off proper!

Second order of business? The highlight of the second half of this hike…”Wall Street,” the part of the Narrows that marks the narrowest stretch of the canyon. This is a section in which you think what you’re seeing is impressive, until you turn the next corner, and then the next corner, and then the next corner. It’s simply insane. Wall Street begins soon after the campgrounds disappear and it goes on for about 2 miles. It was easy to get lost in here as our walk got much slower in response to our jaws dragging across the riverbed. You can’t help but stand in the middle of this madness and marvel at how this was all created…this very river carving its way through this massive chunk of sandstone, over thousands of years, using gravity as its fuel…

After we finally peeled ourselves away and out of Wall Street, the crowds began to slowly thicken a bit, marking the home stretch of our hike. This is the point where visitors can make their way a few miles up the canyon to check out the portion of the Narrows that constitutes the day hike from the valley floor where the majority of the park’s campgrounds and amenities exist. While that option would have been remarkable on its own, and much more practical for families and large groups, we knew that the ‘Top Down’ option was, for us, the way to go, simply due to the fact that through most of the 14 miles before reaching this point, we were on our own, all alone, save for the occasional run-in with fellow top-down hikers, and there’s just something about being isolated in the wilderness that does something to the soul that nothing else in the world can match. It forces you to become incredibly present, an absolute stark contrast to what normal day to day ‘life’ has become – reactionary. Here, left alone to your own devices in the presence of one of Mother Nature’s greatest marvels, you can’t muster the audacity to just react to her wonders – you’re almost forced to absorb, process, and take this with you – you learn about you, and, most importantly, you remember each second of each minute of each hour of each day. While I may have already forgotten what I had for breakfast today, I will never forget what I had for breakfast at Campsite 8.

The next portion of our journey was to commence in Bryce Canyon National Park. We still had enough time to make the 2 hour drive and set up camp, so after a shower at the campground (we saved our tokens knowing we’d need it now more than before…) and a few peanut butter and jelly sandwiches, we hit the road. Through the park, up through the tunnel, and our timing could not have been more perfect. As we were leaving, the sun began its decent over the horizon and we were treated to quite the show. The Utah sandstone sunset sky just over Zion, painted with the softest, warmest array of colors silking and bouncing their way throughout the canyon, the roads, and the skyline in the distance. We pulled over to let these moments permeate our membranes. Simply stunning.

And now the sun was gone and it was time to close the book on this one…

Well, almost…

When you drive miles with nothing in sight, then run across a sign that says “Kane County Fair,” and a few seconds later, “Rodeo,” and you’re from Los Angeles, you HAVE to stop…donning board shorts, t-shirts, and flip-flops, we weren’t quite dressed for the occasion, but couldn’t pass this up. We made it just in time to catch the closing event, the junior rodeo. We walked up to the fence and watched several dozen children running around a rodeo ring in their chaps and hides, trying to catch a herd of loose chickens. Yup, we gone done did it…the Kern County Fair. It was a perfectly heartwarming moment and end to this chapter of the trip.

An hour later we were in Bryce Canyon, found a campsite in the dark, set up, cooked up, drank up, and passed out, waking up rested up.

So below are a few images from the last 24 hours, and if you missed Parts 1 through 3 of “3 National Parks, 3 States, 2 Weeks, 1 Crap Bag,” just click HERE to go to the beginning.

And for the next part, “3 National Parks, 3 States, 2 Weeks, 1 Crap Bag – Part 5 – Hoodoo the Voodoo & Melee at Moab,” click here.

September 24, 2013
My images done showed up on iPhone cases!

But only cuz I put them there…

Earlier in the week, I passed along a few iPhone wallpapers with that parallax dynamic madness in celebration of the iOS7 release, and now that the new iPhone itself has been released today, figured why not…I’ve gone to Society6 and done some fancy shmancy cases using some of my photographs you’ve seen on these pages and on my Google Plus page to protect them buggers!

Oh, and if you use this link to order before September 22, you’ll get free shipping…

Ok, that’s about as much shameless self-promotion as I feel even mildly comfortable with, so I’ll back off…for now…

…and the next part of the 3 National Parks, 3 States, 2 weeks, 1 Crap Bag story coming early next week…

September 20, 2013
Happy iOS 7 Day! Here’s A Fresh Wallpaper For That Parallax iPhone Action!

So to continue in what I hope to be an ongoing tradition (all depends on how my memory decides to treat me week by week…), here’s another one optimized for an iPhone background so you can play with all that new iOS 7 dynamic parallax 3D wallpaper psychotica in style. This one’s from Utah, just on the outskirts of Zion National Park on the way to Bryce Canyon National Park. Looked in our rearview mirror as we were driving and I hit the brakes immediately.
If you missed the latest blog post from yesterday which tells the story of this adventure “3 National Parks, 3 States, 2 Weeks, 1 Crap Bag – Entering The Narrows,” click HERE. It’s the 3rd part in an ongoing series. If you want to start at the beginning, click HERE. (more…)

September 18, 2013
3 National Parks, 3 States, 2 Weeks, 1 Crap Bag – Part 3 – Entering The Narrows

Yes! Here it was! The morning of not only one of the most anticipated parts of this trip, but one of the most anticipated hikes of the past decade and a half…the Narrows! While Angel’s Landing was a test in the fear of heights, this one proved to be the complete opposite, hiking Zion National Park’s Narrows was a test in our threshold for claustrophobia…and this one, I found myself MUCH more comfortable with. I don’t know what that says about me, but the only thing I was afraid of here was getting my camera gear wet as, over the next 48 hours, we’d be hiking through Utah’s Virgin River for 18 miles.

So we broke down camp, threw everything in the car, parked at the Visitor Center, grabbed our packs and our crap bags, and met our shuttle driver Chad from Rare Form Shuttle Services, an extremely personable and knowledgable cat, at the pre-arranged meeting spot, where he, thankfully, convinced us that our Soloman and Vasque trail runners would do us just fine in lieu of the heavy bulky river shoe rentals…

…and off we went.

We began the 90-minute drive up through Zion National Park, through the tunnel, up and over the ridge to the plateau at the top of the canyon and made our way into Chamberlain’s Ranch. This is where the trailhead lies for the 2-day ‘Top Down’ hike option, which is the option you’d want if you were looking to hike the entirety of the Narrows, and option I HIGHLY recommend.

The start of this thing is a mild 2-mile hike across a meadow on one of the plateaus that flanks either side of the canyon that is the masterfully crafted centerpiece of Zion National Park. It’s a mild walk amongst fields of fresh grass, cows out to pasture, a few abandoned old barns and tool sheds, right along the lazily flowing Virgin River. After two miles, the landscape begins to noticeably change with each step. What’s essentially happening here is, you’re starting atop the plateau that forms the 2000-foot walls of Zion Canyon, and over the course of 2 days and 18-miles, you working your way down to the bottom along with the very waters that have carved this cavernous masterpiece over millions of years.

As you proceed, the sandstone walls begin to get higher…and higher…and higher…and higher on each side of you – they basically start to close in on you, the direct light begins to disappear as you navigate your way through the slot canyons illuminated by the soft diffused sunlight that has spent that past 1000 feet bouncing back and forth against the warm-toned stone by the time it gets to you. The river begins to become impossible to navigate around, and that’s when you realize that, well, you’re going to be walking right in it for the majority of this jaunt, and considering the fact that the temperature outside it was closing in on 100 degrees (38C), that was perfectly fine with me.

As you slosh through, you can’t help but do it in absolute awe and with a guilty grin cutting into both sides of your cheeks. The colors, the scenery, the smells, the fact that this ever-changing exercise in excitement-restraint had only just begun and there were still 30 hours of this to go!?!

As we made our way deeper into the canyon and became more acquainted with the nuances of the crevices, what started off as a soft and easily grippable gravel underneath our feet began to turn into larger and larger rocks that took a much more planned and careful approach to safely make your way through it. This is where our trekking poles became much more essential in making sure that certain parts of the river weren’t too deep and to be able to feel our way around the boulders that we were hopping, only they were under water. This certainly began to take a toll on our ankles and energy, but just as our legs began to get wobbly and huff and puff as our blood sugar was in desperate need of a boost, we reach our campsite, one of 12 along the banks of the Virgin River deep within the Narrows. We dropped our Osprey and Gregory packs, fell upon the sand, and next thing you know, we’re waking up an hour later just as the sun light begins to disappear, the moonlight begins to illuminate the canyon with a silver glow, the bats start fluttering around, and the stars pop up bright in the slots of sky we see in the canyon above.

We popped out our GSI Dualist and MSR Pocket Rocket, boiled up a few Backpackers Pantry meals, set up camp, and jumped into the tent for the night to escape the creepy crawlies that started to seemingly infest the sand around us. The sounds of the Virgin River flowing beside us coupled with the endless melodies being chirped by the critters that are fortunate to call this canyon home, helped close out a glorious Day 1 in Zion National Park’s Narrows.

Below is a gallery of some more pics from the first part of the hike, and for the second part of the hike “3 National Parks, 3 States, 2 weeks, 1 Crap Bag – Part 4 – From The River To The Rodeo,” click here.

And here are links to the first few parts of this adventure:

For Part 1 of the “3 National Parks, 3 States, 2 Weeks, 1 Crap Bag” Saga, “Curing an Extreme Case of Wanderlust,” CLICK HERE

For Part 2 of the “3 National Parks, 3 States, 2 Weeks, 1 Crap Bag” Saga, “Almost Used The Crap Bag,” CLICK HERE

And for more of my madness: Instagram: @wasimofnazareth Twitter: @wasimofnazareth Google+: www.Google.com/+WasimMuklashy Facebook: www.Facebook.com/WasimOfNazareth

September 17, 2013
3 National Parks, 3 States, 2 Weeks, 1 Crap Bag – Part 2 – Almost Used The Crap Bag

Zion National Park, Utah. Wasim Muklashy Photography

We were quite exhausted as the sleep the night before was less than optimal, and to top it off, we were forced to rise around 6am to get in line to ensure securing one of the limited number of backcountry permits they issue each day for the overnight option of hiking the Narrows, so after a quick oatmeal breakfast and a cleansing and refreshing dip in the river, decided we’d take a midday nap before using our first day in Zion National park to climb Angels Landing.

Now if you don’t know Angels Landing, I implore of you to look it up…read a bit about it…and hot dammit people, don’t look down! I’d try to explain a bit about it here, but I’d likely get vertigo just typing the description.

Zion National Park, Utah. Angel’s Landing. Wasim Muklashy Photography

It was about 4pm when we hopped on a park shuttle that dropped us off at the trailhead and we began making our way up the steep climb with the goal of reaching the summit for sunset. Now, I’m all for a fairly strenuous 2 hour, 1700-foot climb along some of the most spectacular ridge side switchbacks you’ll ever find yourself conquering. The views of the canyon in its entirety are incredulously awe-inspiring to say the very least. The color palate alone – everything from deep browns to bright oranges to ruby reds, forest greens, neon greens, and turquoise blues – was enough to make an Andy Warhol piece envious.

What I’m not all for is flirting with death.

And that’s where I hit a crossroads.

Call me what you will, but you don’t really realize what you’re in for until your wobbling knees are looking ahead at 2600 feet of 3 foot wide ridge line flanked by a 2000-foot drop on either side…and your cajones depending on nothing but chains and rebar drilled into the side of the ridge. If we didn’t leave them in the car, those crap bags might have come in handy right about now. Sure there was some consolation in seeing the groups of people that did it and were on their way back, but that consolation proved only half effective once you saw the ridiculously concentrated look of horror mixed with anxiety-ridden focus on everyone’s dilated pupils as their white-knuckled hands finally let go of the chain at the base upon their return.

Nope. Sorry. Screw that crap.

Angel’s Landing. Zion National Park, Utah. Wasim Muklashy Photography

So while my buddy decided to brave it, I did what I felt was the smart thing for my no sleep, tired, made-the-mistake-of-looking-down-first self – waited. And that led me to a realization – this was another situation that reminded me why travel is so vital to personal growth – for putting yourself in situations that are unfamiliar and uncomfortable help you learn more about yourself than when you’re isolated to your comfort zone. Those situations are necessary in teaching you things about yourself that you can’t otherwise learn…and in this case, I learned that I’m much more afraid of heights than I ever thought before. I sat there and asked myself a question “Would you rather risk your own safety for the reward of a sunset from atop the heights of Zion National Park, or swallow your pride and enjoy the same sunset from a slightly different perspective on more solid ground?”

One day I will conquer that fear. Today was not that day.

We got back to camp around 10pm, just in time to get our packs ready for the overnight backpacking trip through the Narrows that we’d begin the next morning, cook dinner, enjoy a couple swigs from the dedicated scotch bota, and finally get ourselves some real, restful shuteye.

The Narrows…been trying to get this checked off the list for over a decade. I’m hyped!

To read the next part of the journey, “3 National Parks, 3 States, 2 Weeks, 1 Crap Bag – Entering the Narrows,” click here.

To start from the beginning, click here.

Below are a few images from the climb up to Angel’s Landing, and if you missed Part 1 of this saga, CLICK HERE.

September 11, 2013
Happy iPhone Day! Here’s Some Teasers & iPhone Stuffs

So I’m sitting here writing the entries and processing photos for the next few blog posts for my recent series “3 National Parks, 3 States, 2 Weeks, 1 Crap Bag,” and ran across a few images that I couldn’t help but think to myself, these would be pretty sweet iPhone backgrounds. So to break up that series of posts, I figured I’d throw these out to everyone if you want ’em both as teasers for the blog posts and just because I’ve had a glass of scotch, the new iPhones just got announced, and I’m in a sharing mood.
I’ll try to post one every other week (if I remember). These are sized for iPhone 5 and iPhone 4, and if I get enough interest and comments, I’ll resize for other mobile devices as well. If you wanna, just simply drag n’ drop or right click and ‘Download Image as…’ or ‘Save As…’ Click the “Read More” button below the image for all the download options… (more…)

September 10, 2013
3 National Parks, 3 States, 2 Weeks, 1 Crap Bag – Part 1- Curing An Extreme Case of Wanderlust

Zion National Park, Utah. Road Trip. Wasim Muklashy Photography

So we got the call…our friends were getting married…and they were doing it where? In Colorado?

ROAD (read: PHOTO!) TRIPPP!

It had been quite some time since I’ve taken a trip really worth calling a ‘trip,’ so needless to say, I was hyped! Not only do we get to knock a few things off the proverbial ‘bucket list,’ but it would all culminate in a super celebration with all of our friends in one place…away from everything they knew. It was hard enough to get them together in the same town, but a different state?! I didn’t know what would happen, but what I did know that this was gonna be good.

So a couple of buddies that were able to take the time off before the wedding got together three weeks before and over a 12-pack, decided we’d drive in through Utah where we’d hit up Zion National Park, Bryce Canyon National Park, and then head into Colorado where we’d hit Rocky Mountain National Park before heading into the Loveland / Fort Collins area to visit a friend, then down to Denver to visit another friend, and finally back over the Rockies into Durango, Colorado for the wedding.

And that was the only time we met.

And that was the only plan we had.

And there were no beers left at the end of that meeting.

Next thing you know, it’s 3 days before the trip, one of the trio had to unexpectedly drop out due to pressing family matters, and we’re suddenly scrambling around to put together any logistics, but, if there’s one thing I can count on with my friends, logistics just don’t matter. We knew where we wanted to go, we’ve all done enough camping and backpacking to have an idea of what we’d generally need, so bought a bunch of non-perishables, threw our GSI Dualists and MSR Pocket Rocket into our Osprey packs, chucked it all into the back of the Explorer, and off we went. The 101 to the 134 to the 210 to the 15 through Vegas (can’t tell you how good it felt to go right through Vegas and not stop…) where there’s a whole lotta nada before finally getting into Utah with just enough time and light to secure one of the last 4 campsites, set up, cook up, and rest up just a 1/4 mile from the entrance to Zion National Park.

The next morning, we got up early to hit the Visitor Center to get backcountry permits to hike the Narrows (where a park ranger treated me to my inaugural introduction to my first back country crap bag – yes…a bag for your crap for the overnight trip through the Narrows) and to find a campsite within the park right along the Virgin River, which we’d become MUCH more acquainted with over the next several days. That’s when I got my first daylight peek of what we were in for…insanely ridiculously grand orange and red sandstone peaks and valleys as far as the eye can see in either direction.

Zion National Park, Utah. Wasim Muklashy Photography

There’s a moment when you’re traveling when everything you’re so used to thinking about day in and day out, your monotonous and cyclical comfort zone, just washes away within milliseconds, and you realize that, whether you like it or not, you just have to let go…

This was that moment – the ‘ohhhh damn…here we go…’ moment.

Finally!

For Part 2 of this adventure, CLICK HERE.

Zion National Park, Utah Entrance. Wasim Muklashy Photography.

September 3, 2013