Hopes and Dreams

I found out this last Friday that I will be the father of a newborn baby boy in October. I already knew my wife is pregnant, but we didn’t know the gender until Friday. This will be my first child and I am a little nervous and excited for him to arrive. Thoughts of what we’ll do together and what he’ll want to learn about continually run through my head. The writer in me hopes he will be interested in literature, but as any parent knows, children rarely follow the plan that their parents draw up for them. One thing is certain, though: I will instill my admiration for the beauty of the earth in my child. We will hike and camp and fish and star-gaze and and and…
The anticipation may kill me. The day he is born I’m going to be attaching a backpack to him and expecting him to go with me into the backcountry on a weeklong adventure. My wife will have to take the backpack off and say, “Let’s wait until he can at least walk, okay?” I can barely wait four and a half months for the little guy to be born. How am I supposed to wait two years to take him on his first hike? Too bad there isn’t a product similar to Miracle-Gro for humans. I’d feed it to him without his mother catching wind of my deed, and before we know it, he’d be four feet high at six months and ready to carry supplies for a campout. Not to mention he could start washing dishes and taking out the trash at that height.
One of my goals in life is to teach on a collegiate level. Until that goal is realized, I will simply have to test my theories and philosophies out on my son. Sure, he’ll resent being a guinea pig of sorts (the teenage years should prove interesting), but if my theories are correct, we’ll have the best of times together. One theory is that if a child is constantly exposed to the wonders that nature has to offer, he or she will continue to find fascinating discoveries for the rest of his or her life. Wonders such as a lightning storm, a butterfly emerging from its cocoon, or perhaps the intricate design of snowflake obsidian. Of course, wonders are not effective teaching tools unless the child begins to ask questions, like “Why is the sky blue?” and the parent is able to answer with something like, “Because God loves BYU and so he decided to paint the sky in their honor.”
When I was a young lad I was often punished with sitting in a big, hideous, orange chair. Fortunately for me, there was a set of encyclopedias next to the chair, and I would occasionally thumb through one as I waited for my sentence to expire. From those encyclopedias I learned a great deal about animals, plants and beautiful places all around the world. Every now and again, I recall information I gleaned from the chair-sittings. In those moments I’m glad I spent some time learning random information about snake colorings and poisonous plant indicators, because they’ve saved me some pain. When I discipline my son, I’ll sit him on a chair, like I experienced. Next to the chair, I will place an assortment of books that he can find interest in. Perhaps he’ll pick them up. Perhaps he’ll want to throw the books at me, but I won’t force him to read. The interest will have to come from within him.
I suppose I’ve daydreamed long enough. If you have children, I sincerely hope they have access to activities and information that will slake their thirst for knowledge. Utah State Parks has made it easy for parents to provide their children with adventures and discoveries. If you visit their website at www.stateparks.utah.gov, there is a plethora of links and information that allow you to sign up for outdoor activities that are fun and highly educational. Utah State Parks’ website offers geocaching coordinates, workshops for children, info for discounts on camping, and other family-friendly ideas.
It is possible that in the next few years I will still be writing an outdoors column, and I hope that I will be able to include my son in the various events that I will write about. You better believe that I will be taking every opportunity to show the whippersnapper all about the wonders of the world. Until then, I will have to be satisfied with theorizing and daydreaming. By the way, if you have any great ideas for exposing a child to natural wonders, send them in! I would love to include the ideas in future articles and even try some out for myself.

When the World Burns

The city’s architecture was pure imagination incarnate:
sweeping swaths of concrete and glass,
brick buildings that appeared to meld perfectly with the sky,
steel columns that twisted as if they were made of taffy.
The edifices had existed for many years,
built with strong foundations and excellent engineering.
Men and women passed by them,
strolled underneath them everyday.
Every now and again, eyes would gaze upward
but then quickly down as the sun glared off the building surfaces.
Amidst all the people going to and fro
there was a girl.
A girl who returned to the city
day after day
and sat:
one day on that corner,
another day across the street,
wherever she could watch;
observe.
Sometimes she would sketch the various buildings,
other times she would write about them,
and sometimes she would simply look at them.
Often she became restless;
she would stand up and walk toward the face of a building
and touch its smooth glass,
or rub her fingers along rough brick,
or rest against the cool steel and sigh.
Perhaps she resented the fact
that the buildings would continue to exist
without her admiration.
The girl became a woman,
but still she returned daily to her place among the city’s monoliths,
though the time she was able to spend was much shorter as each day passed.
The day finally came when the woman did not appear.
People made their way around the city as usual,
but few, if any, noticed the absence of the city’s silent observer.
That evening, as the sun set,
the intense light of the dying star lit up the glass of the buildings
and burned the city’s undervalued creations,
blinding anyone who dared to gaze up at them.

Sharing the Road

Disclaimer: Warning! The following tirade contains potentially controversial matter. If you tend to avoid such matters, please avoid this column. I’m guessing you’re still reading because you enjoy issues that will never be completely resolved or agreed upon. Well, just remember, you were warned…
As the general populace continues to adopt environmentally friendly habits and products, there is a big push toward alternate means of transportation, such as carpooling or riding a bus. America was founded on ideals of independence, but many of the solutions for commuters seem restricting and time-consuming. And time is money for most Americans. People find solace in their personal vehicles; they are often symbols of an individual’s independence. What do most teenagers want for their 16th birthday? A car, of course. At 16, teens are tired of depending on mom or dad to chauffeur them around town, always knowing where they’re going. Not many people enjoy knowing that someone is keeping tabs on their whereabouts. It only makes sense that most of us have a hard time considering giving up our cars in lieu of saving the environment.
Many commuters have opted to retain a semblance of their independence and ride a bicycle to and from wherever they need to be. Plus it’s healthy. I learned in a physiology class that the bicycle is one of the few inventions that is efficient and sustainable, meaning that it takes very little effort to produce huge results. Think of how much energy it takes to travel 20 miles in a car versus with a bicycle. On average, a vehicle will burn one gallon of gasoline to travel that distance, but a human can travel that distance and use a fraction of the energy required by the car. Given, the vehicle will cover that distance much quicker, but the human produces no emissions (I’m leaving that joke alone) and becomes stronger for his or her effort.
Despite the environmental and health benefits of the bicycle, there are many motorists who despise cyclists no matter what the situation is. There is nothing more frustrating for a motorist than a cyclist who blatantly flaunts their equal right to the roadway by insisting on riding right in the middle of the lane, and then abusing their right to the road by blowing through a stop light. On the other hand, there is nothing more dangerous to a cyclist than a motorist who thinks he or she needs to teach the cyclist a lesson in staying near the right side of the lane by nearly running him or her off the road. I’ve been on both sides, as a motorist and cyclist, and I find it important to find a balance. It is a very touchy subject for many people. In fact, most people have a strong opinion one way or the other when it comes to cyclists’ rights on the roadways.
I cannot do this subject justice in only 700 words, but I hope I can help some people begin to make some small changes in their perceptions of how to properly share the road. I feared for my life some days because cars would come within inches of hitting me on my bike, and I wasn’t doing anything wrong. When I’m driving my car and I see a cyclist abuse a traffic law, it riles me up. The fact of the matter is that cars are much heavier vehicles than bicycles and a cyclist should never be threatened with death because he or she chose to ride a bicycle on the road. I don’t know too many cyclists that hope that a car will try to run them off the road on their way to work. Actually, I don’t know any. Can’t we all just get along?
Remember this whether you are a cyclist or motorist: “Same roads, same rules, same rights.” Cyclists don’t have to yield to motorists, but it is a courtesy, especially on a single-lane road. Motorists can also receive a ticket for coming too close to a cyclist. State law requires a three-foot buffer zone between a car and bicycle, so make sure you are allowing a cyclist plenty of room if you are passing them. I hope the animosity between motorists and cyclists will dissipate someday, but until then, let’s try to help each other achieve a greener and healthier planet!
I apologize for any discomfort because of the subject matter or lack of excessive humor that is typical of my columns. I promise more laughs next week!

The Pond in the Forest

I had a dream once, a long time ago. I was walking through a dense forest. Bright sunlight filtered through the thick foliage. Sunbeams danced throughout the emerald ocean. As I walked I came upon a crystal-clear, blue pond. I could jump across the pond; it wasn’t very large. The water was so pristine that I knelt down to drink straight from it. That was when I realized the pool of water was much deeper than I initially assumed. In fact, it was so deep I could not see the bottom. Dark, deep water that I cannot see the bottom of elicits a primeval terror within me, and at first I shrunk from the water’s edge. But the pool was full of exotic fish; anemones and coral were clinging to the shelf-like rocks jutting out from the sides of the pool’s walls. There was so much vibrant color and the sparse sunlight coming down from above made the pool’s contents flash every now and again like the glitter of jewels and gems. The trepidation within me gave way to a much keener curiosity and appreciation for what the pond was and what it held inside its walls. I sat for hours observing the fish and other visual stimuli, until observing wasn’t enough. I wanted to enter the pond and dive down to find more, to learn more about it. Not wanting to soak my clothes, I stripped naked and approached the edge of the pool. My toes were caressed by the calm surface of the water as I tested the temperature. The water was cool, yet it didn’t chill my body as I allowed myself to gently slip into it. I can only hold my breath for a minute or so, but I ducked my head underwater and submerged myself completely to explore what I could in that minute. Before I could realize what was happening, I was sinking rapidly past the shelves of sea life and the water was becoming darker and darker. I woke up in a panic, but the image of the pond in the forest continues still to allure and frighten me.

Capturing Nature's Soul

I am by no means a professional photographer. That doesn’t stop me from taking pictures and trying to creatively frame the splendor of nature. In fact, there are times when I surprise myself with the quality of a picture that I have taken of a landscape or close-up of a plant. Many amateur photographers such as myself are able to capture natural nuances (i.e. lightning flashes, brilliant sunrises/sunsets, or an animal in a humorous pose) without much understanding how or why we were able to do it. We just snapped the photo, and we got what we got. Once in a while I will attempt to compose a photograph, but a lot of the time I just wildly flail about and hope to take a picture of something unique and/or beautiful.
When a person has a camera in hand, he or she possesses the potential for a very powerful creative energy. I love to take pictures of various flowers from different angles. Sometimes I even talk to them, saying things like, “Yes, yes! That’s it! Hold that pose! You’re an animal! Rawr! Rawr! Okay, maybe you’re not technically an animal, but pretend like you’re an animal just for today…” It works well for the tiger lilies.
Taking pictures outdoors is even better when a moose or eagle appears and decides to grace an already beautiful landscape. I find myself snapping multiple pictures in those rare moments. I’m not quite sure why. When I visited Bryce Canyon a couple weeks ago, a fat, old raven was sitting on a sign and I had to take a few pictures of it. Fifteen minutes later, at a different viewpoint, another raven (maybe the same one, I don’t really know; I wasn’t tracking it) was sitting on the stone wall overlooking the canyon, and once again I had to snap a few pictures. It’s like I had to prove that the raven was there and that we shared a moment together. I’m not sure what the raven got out of that moment, but I felt like I was a better person for being able to interact with it. I even asked it what it was thinking, because it had a contemplative look about it, but it continued to stare off into space, probably pondering the comical nature of humans. Weird, I know.
Oftentimes nature does what it does without consulting humans about what it’s going to do or already did. I’ve never received a letter in the mail notifying me that a bear is about to appear at such-and-such a place in the mountains at such-and-such a time, so I should have my camera ready then. Radio announcers never announce that the sky is about to shift from a light blue to a radiant pink-orange within minutes. These are things that we have to capture in the moment. I have missed many an opportunity to encapsulate the beauty of a fleeting rainbow or extraordinary cloud pattern simply because I did not have a camera with me at the time. That’s life, I suppose. We’re either prepared for it, or wishing that we were.
Despite nature’s fickleness, you have a couple of chances this week to capture some natural rarities. Have you ever seen an albino rainbow trout? You have the chance to get up close and personal with the odd fish at Steinaker Reservoir if you call Ron Stewart at (435) 781-5311 to set up a visit. Think of the shocking photos you could snap. Or if you’d rather pursue a more exotic species, consider helping scientists hunt for the eggs of the Columbia spotted frog near the Provo River drainage. For more information regarding the frog eggs, contact Chris Crockett at (801) 491-5655 (work) or (801) 234-9639 (cell).
Sharing photographs with friends and family can be fun, especially when those photographs depict the grandeur that is all around us. What’s great about outdoor photography is that you don’t have to work for National Geographic to enjoy it. Many people are able to send their amazing pictures to KSL or Fox News and they will sometimes display the photos on websites or even on the evening news. So get out there and flail about with your camera. I wish you success in capturing nature at her best!

The Buddy System

“Does everyone have a buddy? Good. Let’s get started!” How often have you heard these words recently? Unless you fall into the teenage or child categories, chances are you haven’t really thought about the buddy system all that much. When I think of the buddy system, I think of kindergarten restroom trips, Scout hikes, and high school dances. Most times, children simply choose someone they get along with, but in the case of dances, it is imperative that parents inspect the buddy that their child has chosen and if needs be, make the selection for them.
The buddy system is designed to ensure that instead of one kid wandering off and getting lost, two kids wander off and get lost, but at least they have someone to talk to while they wait to be rescued. Plus, two heads are better than one, right? Whoever came up with that phrase must have never seen two teenage boys put their heads together. The phrase should be: two non-teenage male heads are better than one. Typically, though, two people can come up with better solutions to problems than one person by his or her lonesome. And don’t forget the panic factor. Fear and terror can easily overcome one person, whereas they have a harder time influencing two people who are determined to let each other know that everything will be okay.
When I was a Scout, the buddy system always seemed like an annoyance. I always got stuck with the kid that really needed help. He’d see a butterfly and suddenly he’s chasing it toward a cliff edge. Or he brought so much crap in his backpack that I end up having to take some of it. Despite my youthful experiences with the buddy system, I can see how effective it is now that I’m an adult. Whether you’re hiking or hunting or snowmobiling or anything else outside, the buddy system can save lives.
Every year there are tons of new stories of people who could have avoided a grisly demise if they had had a friend with them. Backcountry hikers that go solo and disappear, only to be found dead at the bottom of a ravine months later; a swimmer who goes out for a dip, suffers a muscle cramp, and never makes it back to shore; a kid who runs to the gas station just down the street for candy and completely vanishes. These are times when a friend could have proved very helpful. Of course, a friend is not a guarantee against disaster, but the chances of a disaster happening are certainly lessened. There are instances when having a buddy may not be enough. Bears and nasty weather, for example. Once again, though, another head may be useful in solving a potentially dangerous predicament.
I’ve grown up since my Scouting days, and instead of pairing up with the awkward Scouts, I’ve paired up with the love of my life, which is a huge upgrade, I might add. My wife and I do almost everything together. I don’t even have to think about it when someone asks, “Does everyone have a buddy?” I can’t tell you how many times my wife has saved our butts because she remembered to bring a map or pack water or any number of things that I inevitably forget. I hope you have a buddy; someone you can count on to share adventures with you. Your buddy could be a spouse, a best friend, a family member, a neighbor, or anyone that’s going to be there for you, just as much as you are there for them. Buddy up and enjoy the comfort of knowing that you’ve got support.