The Wonders of the Sky

Last Saturday morning there was a lunar eclipse. Maybe you saw it; maybe you didn’t. It was only visible between about 4:15 am and 5:45 am. There was no way I was going to lose an hour and a half of precious sleep on a Saturday morning just because Earth found itself suspended in space blocking the light of the sun from the moon. So I got up thrice. Once to watch the beginning (the moon was bright as bright can be and suddenly a darkness began creeping up on its top edge); once to observe the eclipse mid-way (the man in the moon was gasping in surprise as Earth’s shadow covered half of his face); and a third time to gaze a little longer as the almost-completely-eclipsed moon set (a thin, orange claw descending into the blackness of the distant mountains to evade the stark light of day).
As I shook my wife awake to watch the moon before it disappeared from view, she lamented, “But it sooo early and I’m sooo tired. Boo hoo hoo.” So I countered with, “C’mon! Something like this only happens every 3,000 years! You don’t want to miss that, do you?” Maybe I exaggerated a little, but things like eclipses of any sort are a rare occurrence and a person may only have a handful of opportunities to see them. Anyway, the 3,000-years bit got her up in a jiffy, and we were soon driving in the car up a hillside to get a better view of the pre-dawn spectacle.
I am in love with the night, especially her sky. It’s amazing how the sky of the day can change from a clear blue to a deep blue and then black when night descends, revealing the far-flung sparks we call stars. Last week’s lunar eclipse only intensified my love of the night. If there were ever a contest between Day and Night, a contest to see who could produce the coolest wonders, I think Night would win. Day’s got some smooth tricks up his sleeve, but Night’s wonders are so much more elegant and thought provoking. Take lightning for example: I’d rather watch a lightning storm at night than during the day. Or a comet. Comets are interesting during the day, but they look like a simple stream of cloud coming from behind a jet. At night, a comet is at home among the stars, as am I, and it is so much more intense.
The night sky has a lot to offer, and sometimes you never know what you’re going to get when you lie down on a trampoline to look up at the myriad of tiny points of light above. Shooting stars are always a pleasant surprise, but a satellite falling out of orbit and reentering Earth’s atmosphere is even cooler. Ten years ago I was on a campout with some friends on the west side of Utah Lake, and a huge ball of blue flame appeared in the dark sky above the water. It looked to be about the size of a truck or SUV, and it was travelling at a very rapid rate down toward the surface of the lake. The blue light was so vivid and I thought it might possibly be the blue fairy coming to grant my wish to be a real boy (I had wished on the first star I saw that night). But about 100 yards before splashing into the lake, it fizzled out and vanished without a trace. My friend, Mark, and I looked at each other and decided to ask his rocket-scientist father what the blue ball of fire could have possibly been. His dad, who really worked for Hercules as an astrophysicist, told us it was probably a piece of metal from a satellite. Despite the man-made origins of the metal, it sure did create a wonderful sight for us that night.
After oohing and aahing at fireworks this next weekend, you should stick around for a natural light display. You may have to wait a few minutes for the smoke to clear, but once it does, the night will offer you her very best show. Take the time to reacquaint yourself with Orion and his fancy belt and go with him to hunt the Great Bear and her baby. If you must, you can pull up a star chart on your handy-dandy smart phone and cheat at stargazing. And you never know, you may just see something that no one else does, and you’ll be able to remember the personal gift that the night decided to give to you.

Cooking Like the Dutch

The Dutch do a lot of things well, like building large walls that keep water from flooding their land, or getting girls and guys to each pay for their fair share of the date, or creating breathtaking fields full of tulips that seem to stretch on for days. One of the best things the Dutch have done, though, is they’ve taken an oven, made it compact, highly portable, and relatively easy to clean, and then called it after themselves: the Dutch oven. Brilliant.
Some of the best food I’ve ever tasted was cooked in a Dutch oven, as well as some of the worst. The problem with Dutch ovens is, they are often used during scouting campouts, and Boy Scouts have very short attention spans, especially while on a campout, and they forget that Dutch ovens don’t have a timer or shut off automatically when the food is done. Dutch oven cooking is an art, and like any art, there are some people who are artists and others who are dabblers. I am a dabbler, which means I can create some good stuff as long as I have a recipe, but I lack the imagination and know-how to make a dish from scratch. I’m okay with that as long as the people writing the recipes are true artists.
A few weeks ago I camped out with some friends and they brought along a large Dutch oven. We didn’t use it for any of our main dishes, just desserts. As we ate our fajitas or hobo dinners, we could smell sweet aromas coming from the cast-iron fire pot, and dinner was only whetting our appetites for dessert. The first night, my friends made a chocolate mud cake, or something like that. It was delicious, but I don’t know how they made it. The second night, though, I helped make apple crisp, and it was heavenly.
My friend and I chopped up about 12 green apples, threw them into the Dutch oven, and then poured 2 tablespoons of lemon juice over the top. We mixed up in a separate bowl ¾ of a cup of sugar, a ½ a cup of brown sugar, a third of a cup of flour, 2 teaspoons of ground cinnamon, ¾ of a teaspoon of grated nutmeg, ¼ of a teaspoon of ground cloves, ¾ of a teaspoon of salt, and a dash of love. We poured that mixture over the apples and stirred it up so everything was coated nicely. Then came the topping: 2 cups of brown sugar, 2 cups of flour, 1 cup of oatmeal, and 1 cup of melted butter. After mixing that together well, we poured it over the top and put the lid on. We then placed the Dutch oven over 14 hot briquettes on a concrete pad, and placed about 20 more briquettes on the lid and let the Dutch oven sit for an hour. Even though the recipe would have probably been sufficient for 12 people, the six of us polished it off within 15 minutes, it was so delectable. (By the way, for all you fellow dabblers, the previous recipe along with many others can be found at the following website address: http://papadutch.home.comcast.net/~papadutch/.)
Dutch oven cooking is like the teatime of camping. You throw some ingredients into the cookware, put it over some heat, sit back, relax, chew the fat, chew some more fat, and then whatever it is you’re cooking is done cooking. There’s no rush (unless a bear has smelled the food you’re cooking) and you can enjoy the outdoors and the quiet of nature while telling ghost stories as you wait. Crumpets, anyone?

Water Safety

Hopefully you are able to enjoy the bodies of water near you without any fear of oil spills or debris from flooded areas. Summer without water to splash in is a summer not worth having. Even though Utah is technically a desert, there are plenty of aqueous activities available, whether its sailing, rafting, swimming, jet skiing, and so forth. Water skiing on cool, mountain reservoir water is amazing on a blazing hot day in July.
As is typical with most outdoor activities, it is extremely important to ensure that you can remain as safe as possible while playing in the water. It is surprising how dangerous water can be, even if it is calm on the surface. Swimming skills are certainly a necessity for water sports, but unfortunately even skilled swimmers are caught unaware from time to time and end up drowning.
Let’s consider how to stay safe this summer in all the rivers and lakes around us. First, mixing water and alcohol is rarely a good combination, unless you don’t hold your liquor well. Alcohol accounts for at least one-third of the injuries and deaths that occur in or near water. Too bad I don’t have a cutesy little catch phrase for this point, like, “Don’t drink and then get in a boat and fall overboard and then get in the pathway of a propeller because your friend driving the boat is as drunk as you are…” It’s simply too long for anyone to remember. I suppose it’s enough to say, “Alcohol and water don’t mix.”
And since we’re on the topic of beverages, let’s talk about wetting your whistle. Even if you are completely submerged in water, you may become dehydrated if you don’t drink enough fluid while participating in watery activities. And don’t just plan on drinking the lake water! It’s not always the cleanest. Fish don’t have a restroom up on shore…
Life jackets are always a good idea if you’re playing in any water other than the public pool (and even then they’re probably a good idea for some people). Humans weren’t specially designed with webbed feet, fins or gills, except for a select few, thus creating the need for a little help when we’re in water. Know your limits when it comes to how well you can swim. You may be an excellent swimmer and feel you don’t require a life jacket, but life jackets can help conserve energy if you are in an emergency. Treading water can tire a person out very quickly.
Let your family or friends know where you are or where you’re going; most likely you take some of them along with you when you go out to play in the water. I know that sounds like something your mother would say to you, but the buddy system saves numerous lives every year. Just make sure you’re not abusing the buddy system by challenging each other to do stupid stuff, like jumping into a raging river without life vests. Dares sound like fun when you’re talking about them, but they can quickly go from exciting to devastating when there’s water involved.
Have fun when you go out to the various bodies of water in Utah. Please take every precaution in order to stay safe. Oh, and I almost forgot: watch out for water monsters!

Delicate Arch

What do most people think of when they think of Utah? Strict alcohol laws, Mormons, great skiing, and, of course, the Delicate Arch in Arches National Park. Many of the 50 states have a symbolic edifice or monument, whether natural or man-made, to represent each state’s uniqueness. New York has the Statue of Liberty, South Dakota has Mount Rushmore, California has the Golden Gate Bridge, etc. As a natural “work of art,” Delicate Arch is extremely symbolic of Utah’s scenic allure. From the majestic Rocky Mountains to the surreal Salt Flats to the vivid red rocks in the south, Utah is an absolute dream for outdoor enthusiasts. It is quite fitting that Utah is symbolically represented with one of its most well-known natural wonders.
I finally visited Delicate Arch for the first time in my life this year with my friend, Jen. We went at a good time, too. It was late spring and the sun was still not at its summer worst, though it put up a good fight. The hike to Delicate Arch is approximately 1.5 miles, and is not by any means a hard hike, as far as difficulty goes. The lack of plentiful shade and the desert landscape do make the hike a harrowing one, though, and a backpack full of water is a necessity. Jen and I brought a Camelbak full of water between us and I ended up drinking the last of it with a quarter-mile left to hike. Poor Jen’s not a camel and all I heard that final stretch was, “This hike would’ve been a lot more enjoyable if I had something to drink…”
Because of its symbolic status, the journey to Delicate Arch reminded me of a pilgrimage. There were hundreds of people from all over the world crawling across the landscape to see some natural beauty with their own eyes. At the beginning of the hike I felt like I was getting in a line, there were so many people on the dirt path leading up the hillside. Multiple languages drifted through the air like shimmering heat waves: German, Spanish, French, Chinese, Japanese, and other languages I couldn’t identify. At one point during the hike, Jen and I began exchanging phrases in other languages so that we could fit in. Plus it helped pass the time quickly, and when you’re crossing a length of desert that seems like it will never end, all you want is for time to fly by. I had just finished teaching Jen an obscene word in German when a group of German tourists passed us. Talk about coincidence. Anyway, it was exciting to have so many different cultures converging to admire Delicate Arch together. The world felt just a little bit smaller along that path in the middle of nowhere.
As with all pilgrimages, there was a reward at the end of the trail I followed. Not only was Delicate Arch splendidly displayed against the snowy mountains in the distance, there was also a raven hovering about to add to the awesomeness of the attraction. After taking plenty of pictures of the raven and Delicate Arch (sometimes both of them together), I allowed myself to simply sit back and soak up the magnificence of Utah’s renowned landmark. Life stopped for a few moments and I was able to experience the moment without any worries or cares. It was a bittersweet moment of reflection: I had lived 28 years not knowing what I was missing, and yet, there I was, enjoying the scenery for myself.
Delicate Arch is one pilgrimage that will not be a once-in-a-lifetime experience for me; I will return. And when I do, I’ll go early in the morning and in the spring. Most people make their journey during the summer months between 11 am and 4 pm (hot!). I’d like to visit the arch when it’s cool, quiet and serene. Just me and a naturally-formed arch enjoying a sunrise together. And maybe a raven if it keeps its beak shut.

Water Gone Wild

It was an almost-perfect Memorial Day weekend this year near Moab. My friends, the Bowman’s, invited me to join them on a river-rafting excursion along the Colorado River. We ran the Westwater section of the river, which is just a few miles west of the Utah-Colorado border. The sky was absolutely gorgeous and so blue. Only after our rafting trip did small white cloud puffs appear, but they were a welcome sight in the face of the hot desert sun.
Though the weather played along nicely, the river did not. I haven’t been on very many river trips, so the Bowman’s informed me that the river was high and that high water generally washes out the rapids. Apparently I received a gentle version of the river. Gentle is a relative term here. The river was not as wild as it would have been if it were lower, but because it was so high, it was washing trees and debris down the river. We had to be careful to avoid logs and sharp ends of branches, especially in the rougher sections. The vegetation along the river received none of the river’s gentleness. Even some campers were victims of the river’s deceitful gentleness, judging from their empty canoe that floated by our campsite in the morning. It’s easy to imagine that they trusted the river to stay at the level it was and didn’t bother to tether the canoe to anything. Big surprise in the morning for them. Guess who just signed up for a hike?
I have to explain that I am deathly afraid of dark, murky, calm water; you know, the kind of water that monsters live in. A river can be dark and murky, but generally not calm, so I was mostly fine on this trip. I was still afraid of going into the water, though. Entering the water, any water, is like hanging a foot out of your blankets at night for the boogieman to grab. That’s how water monsters operate: even though you’re just above the surface of the water, easy for them to reach, they will wait for you to come closer to them. If they were always lunging out of the water at people, they’d scare most of their food off. If a predator can help its prey feel complacent, that’s half the battle, and water monsters know that. Sneaky rascals.
Anyway, because of my fear of water, I consider myself lucky to have been able to raft with the Bowman’s. The family has been enjoying water activities for years and is extremely experienced. In fact, if you’re considering any whitewater trips and you yourself have no experience with rivers, hire a professional to guide you. It could save your life. The father of the family was helpful, as he would shout out orders, such as, “Left! Left! Okay, right! Watch out for that log that looks like it could be part of a river monster’s tentacle!” His orders were instrumental in navigating the rapids successfully. Every time he would yell out a direction, I would freeze up and wait for the others in the raft to take action, and then simply follow their leads. It seemed to work well. I didn’t die. Or fall out of the raft either, though I did fall into the middle of the raft a couple of times. I suppose I was trying too hard not to fall out and overcompensated.
Though monsters in the water are something to be worried about, there are other dangers too. From what I was able to gather as I observed various Bowman reactions and statements to parts of the river, there are phenomena known as “holes” in the rapids that are not very nice. I’m not completely sure what happens if you enter a hole, but it’s probably similar to a wormhole in space: you simply disappear. Large voids in the bottom of the river create a wicked recirculation effect, able to stop large vessels in their tracks or possibly pull them underwater. If the hole is not very powerful, kayakers can use them to play in. I’m convinced a hole is where a monster has opened its mouth and is now just waiting…
For the most part, the river really was a relaxing sightseeing tour. We stopped a couple of times to go ashore: once to check out a hovel that was built back in the late 1800s, and once to eat lunch. The hovel was interesting. It was a squat building built with logs and had a dirt floor; just enough shelter so a person could work the land and make a meager living. We also passed a cave that outlaws used back in the day to hide from the law. Unfortunately we couldn’t check the cave out, but it was still cool to see.
About four hours after starting out, we reached the end of the Westwater section. We had two vehicles waiting at the take-out so we could get back to camp. As we laid equipment and clothing out to dry, my friend, Trent, walked up to his wife, Jen, and asked, “You have the keys to the car, right?” She looked at him and retorted, “Why would I have the keys?” I suppose it goes without saying that if you leave a vehicle at the take-out, you probably want to bring along keys to operate said vehicle. Luckily, the other vehicle we had parked there was a truck that could unofficially fit seven people. It may not have been comfortable, but it got the job done.
White-water rafting was the perfect activity for such an amazing weekend. Part adventure, part discovery, part relaxation, and voila! Pure enjoyment! Like any other outdoor activity, though, know before you go and inform yourself of the dangers and precautions of the specific activity you want to enjoy. And most important: don’t underestimate the water monsters!