It's still early in the park.
We pull into Canyon Overlook and there is a fog still nestled lazily in valley. The mist tickles our faces. We are standing in the low laying clouds of Springbrook National Park.
As we begin our walk, ours are the first footfalls on the trail today. The day yet to fully awaken, the trail still damp from the night's rain. Our shoes squish over the damp leaves, mud and twigs underneath us. It's the perfect time for a hike - the weather cool, the air crisp, the valley almost completely our own.
At the top of Twin Falls, the waters of the mirror rivers slide swiftly over slick mossy rocks. Clear and cold. Bursting with great speed as it topples over the edge and falls fast over the steep cliff. We twist down the switchbacks and take in the tall tall trees. The canopy sways as a breeze steals through. The forest is alive with the symphony of various fauna. A Kookaburra trill tricks me into thinking there are monkeys in the trees. The cicadas echo each other as they communicate across the rainforest. Surroundsound nature.
At the bottom of the falls, I ask Josh, "Is that the only way to go through there?" I pronounce the last word with almost a second syllable. "They-ah." The Australian accent is rubbing off and I can't help but emulate.
He smiles and nods as we both take in the path that winds right underneath the falls. It's not directly flowing onto the footpath, but there is a good spray veiling it.
We're going to get wet.
"Here we goooo!" he cries as he dives under. I catch that impish twinkle in his eyes as he goes. The first few drops catch me off guard and I pause, getting a bit wetter than if I had just gone full on. Then I run, careful to not slip as I traverse under the cascade. "I don't like this!" I yell as I run under, laughing as the words flow out of my mouth.
On the other side, we are moist and the breeze brings goosebumps to my arms. We trek onward.
The sun begins to peak through the clouds and small rays poke amongst the canopy of the forest. The colors brighten. The greens intensify.
The hike begins to head back and, ironically, this incline includes stairs rather than switchbacks. My favorite. Even though it is beginning to get muggy, the day is still young and we are thankful that this uphill is so much more pleasant than yesterday's: The never-ending stairs, the scorching sun.
"What temperature do you think it is?" I ask Josh, who has just removed his shirt.
"It's hard to tell since we've been walking," he stops. "I'm always hot so I can't estimate correctly." We pause as I catch my breath. "Maybe 70...?"
"That sounds about right." I take into account that I am so much less hot than him right now. "It feels on the edge of humid. But still cool." We continue on and upward for a relatively easy return to the car park.
The Canyon Overlook has cleared up significantly since we had first arrived. The sun over the valley emphasizes a plethora of shades of green that I didn't even know existed.
Our car is still sitting solo when we return to it. We hop in and prepare to start the day, satisfied with an early morning trek.
Good morning and good bye, Springbrook Park. It's been swell.
Showing posts with label hiking. Show all posts
Showing posts with label hiking. Show all posts
Wednesday, March 4, 2015
Wednesday, January 22, 2014
La Fortuna: Cerro Chato
Today was the day for the hike. And wow, was I not prepared for it.
2 miles, they said. 2 miles up and 2 miles back. 2 hours up and 1 hour back.
Bring water.
Bring snacks.
Prepare to get muddy.
I'm never ready for a hike, actually. I'm always apprehensive about up.
Up is not my forte. Up is my grief. Up is my kryptonite.
But push on, I do. Push on, I always do.
And so we began.
We started by signing the book. The book that you sign when you leave and when you return. The book that they check at the end of the day to make sure no one's still up there. The book with emergency contact information.
And then there was the safety talk. The route description. The reminders. The warnings about snakes. The constant repetition: "Go at your own pace."
The info guide faced us in the right direction and we headed out and up.
The first bit was dirt road. Slight incline. Shaded. We ambled upward. We took pictures of the view. At the first Vista Point, we stopped for a drink and took panoramas.
We continued and met the first group we would ultimately pass and be passed by multiple times during the morning. Two girls from Quebec. Stopping for a drink break. A friendly hello and a wave as we started up the steep incline.
The grade began to increase. And the terrain deteriorated. The worn mud roads had eroded from the rainy season, deep ruts cutting through the dense mud. Carving like a canyon.
"Small steps" became my mantra. Small steps and little breaks.
Step step step. Stop. Breathe.
Step step step.
Stop.
Breathe.
The sun was out in full force. We were passed by a red-haired freckle-faced girl from Germany. She hiked with determination. Large forceful steps. Sure-footed gait.
At a little past the halfway point there was a tree. (Oh, sweet respite!) We all ended up gathered there for a snack break. The Canadians chomped apples. The German, a protein bar. Josh and I noshed on dry dry cereal bars. We inhaled. We spoke of our separate journeys - what brought us here, where we'd been before. We shaded ourselves from the heat. We exhaled.
And then, we trudged on.
Step step step. Stop. Breathe.
Here began the jungle. Shielding us from the sun, the canopy enveloped us in its lush greenery. Trapping us in the humidity.
The path became stairs. Stairs carved in mud. Stairs formed from roots. Stairs unevenly spaced. Little stairs for munchkins. "Giant stairs for giant people!" I'd exclaim from time to time. And we took them one by one. Alternating dominant legs. Using arms as simple machines. Distributing weight. Spreading out the work on what would ultimately be sore muscles the next morning.
Slip sliding in the mud. Josh extending a hand from time to time. Giving me a boost on the occasional mammoth stairs for mammoth people. Near the top, we finally started seeing people on their way down.
"You're almost there," is one of the most patronizing things you can say to a hiker going up.
"Just twenty more minutes," is both devastating in how long that seems. Is cruel in the fact that, in truth, it's gonna be way more than that.
But we made it. And at the top, we were treated with a picturesque view of the volcano, peaking shyly out behind a screen of gentle clouds. We ate it in. We drank in our surroundings as we simultaneously gulped the air-temperature water our bodies craved.
But were we done? No, no. For there was the lagoon to reach. The lagoon nestled in the crater of Cerro Chato. And from the looks of the folks returning from that direction, it was gonna get muddy.
We began the climb down an almost vertical grade. It was slick with mud. The trees we used as handholds wet as if rain was pouring that very moment. We slipped. We slid. We clambered down and under branches, roots, and rocks.
But we made it again. This time to the tiny shores of the lagoon. Surrounded on all sides by deep green rainforest. Steep sides framed the aquamarine lake. Josh jumped in the crisp chilly water and I waded. Taking it in. Savoring in the serenity.
When we finally had our share -- rested up, filled our bellies, quenched our thirst -- we commenced the journey back. Up and up the lagoon's sheltering walls. Then down, down, down the same erratic stairs was had trudged up.
"You're almost there," we tried to encourage the few we met almost at the top. The irony didn't even phase me.
Our knees ached at the downward trek. But it was faster. And we were pulled by gravity toward the bottom. Back toward our temporary home.
When we finally reached the cool tile of the tiki bar, I shed my wet shoes and walked barefoot to the room. With a quick rinse, I re-donned my swimsuit and we both jumped joyfully into the pool. Where we waded. Floated. And rested.
We had made it.
2 miles, they said. 2 miles up and 2 miles back. 2 hours up and 1 hour back.
Bring water.
Bring snacks.
Prepare to get muddy.
I'm never ready for a hike, actually. I'm always apprehensive about up.
Up is not my forte. Up is my grief. Up is my kryptonite.
But push on, I do. Push on, I always do.
And so we began.
We started by signing the book. The book that you sign when you leave and when you return. The book that they check at the end of the day to make sure no one's still up there. The book with emergency contact information.
And then there was the safety talk. The route description. The reminders. The warnings about snakes. The constant repetition: "Go at your own pace."
The info guide faced us in the right direction and we headed out and up.
The first bit was dirt road. Slight incline. Shaded. We ambled upward. We took pictures of the view. At the first Vista Point, we stopped for a drink and took panoramas.
We continued and met the first group we would ultimately pass and be passed by multiple times during the morning. Two girls from Quebec. Stopping for a drink break. A friendly hello and a wave as we started up the steep incline.
The grade began to increase. And the terrain deteriorated. The worn mud roads had eroded from the rainy season, deep ruts cutting through the dense mud. Carving like a canyon.
"Small steps" became my mantra. Small steps and little breaks.
Step step step. Stop. Breathe.
Step step step.
Stop.
Breathe.
The sun was out in full force. We were passed by a red-haired freckle-faced girl from Germany. She hiked with determination. Large forceful steps. Sure-footed gait.
At a little past the halfway point there was a tree. (Oh, sweet respite!) We all ended up gathered there for a snack break. The Canadians chomped apples. The German, a protein bar. Josh and I noshed on dry dry cereal bars. We inhaled. We spoke of our separate journeys - what brought us here, where we'd been before. We shaded ourselves from the heat. We exhaled.
And then, we trudged on.
Step step step. Stop. Breathe.
Here began the jungle. Shielding us from the sun, the canopy enveloped us in its lush greenery. Trapping us in the humidity.
The path became stairs. Stairs carved in mud. Stairs formed from roots. Stairs unevenly spaced. Little stairs for munchkins. "Giant stairs for giant people!" I'd exclaim from time to time. And we took them one by one. Alternating dominant legs. Using arms as simple machines. Distributing weight. Spreading out the work on what would ultimately be sore muscles the next morning.
Slip sliding in the mud. Josh extending a hand from time to time. Giving me a boost on the occasional mammoth stairs for mammoth people. Near the top, we finally started seeing people on their way down.
"You're almost there," is one of the most patronizing things you can say to a hiker going up.
"Just twenty more minutes," is both devastating in how long that seems. Is cruel in the fact that, in truth, it's gonna be way more than that.
But we made it. And at the top, we were treated with a picturesque view of the volcano, peaking shyly out behind a screen of gentle clouds. We ate it in. We drank in our surroundings as we simultaneously gulped the air-temperature water our bodies craved.
But were we done? No, no. For there was the lagoon to reach. The lagoon nestled in the crater of Cerro Chato. And from the looks of the folks returning from that direction, it was gonna get muddy.
We began the climb down an almost vertical grade. It was slick with mud. The trees we used as handholds wet as if rain was pouring that very moment. We slipped. We slid. We clambered down and under branches, roots, and rocks.
But we made it again. This time to the tiny shores of the lagoon. Surrounded on all sides by deep green rainforest. Steep sides framed the aquamarine lake. Josh jumped in the crisp chilly water and I waded. Taking it in. Savoring in the serenity.
When we finally had our share -- rested up, filled our bellies, quenched our thirst -- we commenced the journey back. Up and up the lagoon's sheltering walls. Then down, down, down the same erratic stairs was had trudged up.
"You're almost there," we tried to encourage the few we met almost at the top. The irony didn't even phase me.
Our knees ached at the downward trek. But it was faster. And we were pulled by gravity toward the bottom. Back toward our temporary home.
When we finally reached the cool tile of the tiki bar, I shed my wet shoes and walked barefoot to the room. With a quick rinse, I re-donned my swimsuit and we both jumped joyfully into the pool. Where we waded. Floated. And rested.
We had made it.
Thursday, January 16, 2014
Cool Breeze
The sun was high. Hot. The cloudless day teased us with its lack of shade.
We both were wet with sweat. Backs warm with the reminder of the packs we had just shouldered on the long uphill climb. Our skin covered in a thin layer of dust. Attempts to wipe it off resulted in small dark smears.
In the distance, we could hear a vehicle approaching. The crunch of the gravel road. The low sound of the motor. I squinted in anticipation at the spot where the car would soon appear. We stuck our thumbs out in tandem.
The silver mud-covered SUV crested the hill and rolled into sight, rocking like a boat on choppy water, avoiding the many potholes marking the road. We donned our friendliest smiles. Slid our sunglasses over our eyes to shield us from the upcoming mini dust storm to be kicked up by the vehicle that ultimately, like the last one, would pass us by.
The driver peered at us through his windshield. His passenger gave a flick-of-the-wrist wave. And they drove on.
The heat enveloped us. The humidity like a blanket.
Two German Shepard pups -- brothers -- noisily hopped out of the nearby riverbed, splashing, biting each other in play. Both covered in water. Mud.
He glanced at his watch to check the time. The sun reflected brightly off its face.
I sighed. Defeated. Waiting.
Then.. We heard it before we felt it.
The trees in the distance hinted with their rustling leaves. Their swaying promised respite.
It was slow at first. A slight breeze that barely cooled the neck beneath my hair. And it stopped after barely a few seconds. I sighed, resigned to heat.
But, lo. It blessed us again with its glorious presence. More prolonged. Invigorating.
It brushed our skin with its coolness. It blew strands of hair from my sweltering forehead. Like that first refreshing sip of ice cold water after a long thirst. The kind you can feel as you drink it. The way you can follow its chill as it hits your mouth, slowly melts down your quenched throat and then settles, happy, in your contented belly.
It covered us head to toe. Like a new blanket. A blanket of relief. Soothing. Cool.
And suddenly, for just those few minutes I wasn't even aware of the road. The ride we needed. The sun. The dust. The sweat.
Suddenly, for that brief moment, I took the time to appreciate a cool summer breeze.
We both were wet with sweat. Backs warm with the reminder of the packs we had just shouldered on the long uphill climb. Our skin covered in a thin layer of dust. Attempts to wipe it off resulted in small dark smears.
In the distance, we could hear a vehicle approaching. The crunch of the gravel road. The low sound of the motor. I squinted in anticipation at the spot where the car would soon appear. We stuck our thumbs out in tandem.
The silver mud-covered SUV crested the hill and rolled into sight, rocking like a boat on choppy water, avoiding the many potholes marking the road. We donned our friendliest smiles. Slid our sunglasses over our eyes to shield us from the upcoming mini dust storm to be kicked up by the vehicle that ultimately, like the last one, would pass us by.
The driver peered at us through his windshield. His passenger gave a flick-of-the-wrist wave. And they drove on.
The heat enveloped us. The humidity like a blanket.
Two German Shepard pups -- brothers -- noisily hopped out of the nearby riverbed, splashing, biting each other in play. Both covered in water. Mud.
He glanced at his watch to check the time. The sun reflected brightly off its face.
I sighed. Defeated. Waiting.
Then.. We heard it before we felt it.
The trees in the distance hinted with their rustling leaves. Their swaying promised respite.
It was slow at first. A slight breeze that barely cooled the neck beneath my hair. And it stopped after barely a few seconds. I sighed, resigned to heat.
But, lo. It blessed us again with its glorious presence. More prolonged. Invigorating.
It brushed our skin with its coolness. It blew strands of hair from my sweltering forehead. Like that first refreshing sip of ice cold water after a long thirst. The kind you can feel as you drink it. The way you can follow its chill as it hits your mouth, slowly melts down your quenched throat and then settles, happy, in your contented belly.
It covered us head to toe. Like a new blanket. A blanket of relief. Soothing. Cool.
And suddenly, for just those few minutes I wasn't even aware of the road. The ride we needed. The sun. The dust. The sweat.
Suddenly, for that brief moment, I took the time to appreciate a cool summer breeze.
Thursday, August 8, 2013
Walking.
Walking, to me, is reflecting.
Exercising.
Exploring.
Gaining a new vantage.
Getting a new perspective.
Finding greenery in the midst of the concrete jungle.
Finding beauty in the everyday.
Appreciating the warmth in the fog that envelopes me.
Exercising.
Exploring.
Gaining a new vantage.
Getting a new perspective.
Finding greenery in the midst of the concrete jungle.
Finding beauty in the everyday.
Appreciating the warmth in the fog that envelopes me.
Sunday, June 23, 2013
Stairs.
Yesterday began with a disastrous potato salad.
Josh, Goober and I sat on the porch with the sun on our backs and a smoothie between us, when suddenly, I realized the potatoes had been boiling too long. A salvage attempt was made but my mood was still sour.
To remedy this, a destination was picked and a walk began.
Objective: Golden Gate Heights. 4 miles and 760 feet elevation gain.
Strapped on a new pair of shoes to break in, grabbed water and a sweater. And we were off!
I guess I should have guessed by the MapMyWalk that I was going to be headed uphill. .. But, as we walked up 24th, the grade of the street kept catching me off guard. By the last block before we reached Market, I had to stop twice within a block to catch my breath and take in the views.
The walk took a twist. We snaked under, around and up to get to Market.
Market morphed to Portola and we followed them both, mirroring traffic, gaining elevation. Step after step, we traversed the saddle of Twin Peaks.
We left Sutro Tower behind us.
Above this crest, we were treated to a whole new section of the city. Everything got a little more suburban. There was space. There were driveways. There were yards. Hell, we even saw this place that looked straight out of a movie -- discarded play bike turned over and left on the grass.
More steps, more incline, more up.
We made it now to a beautiful wooded area of SF. I marveled over and over that we were still in the city limits. The trees were large, old and looming. The streets winding. I got lost in the getting lost.
Then, as we turned a corner, we were greeted by a man and his Labrador. The pup was too excited to be there, tugging and pulling at his leash. Dog controlling owner.
And we were there.
Beautiful, forested. Full of great vistas, shady benches and friendly dogs.
Josh, Goober and I sat on the porch with the sun on our backs and a smoothie between us, when suddenly, I realized the potatoes had been boiling too long. A salvage attempt was made but my mood was still sour.
To remedy this, a destination was picked and a walk began.
Objective: Golden Gate Heights. 4 miles and 760 feet elevation gain.
Strapped on a new pair of shoes to break in, grabbed water and a sweater. And we were off!
I guess I should have guessed by the MapMyWalk that I was going to be headed uphill. .. But, as we walked up 24th, the grade of the street kept catching me off guard. By the last block before we reached Market, I had to stop twice within a block to catch my breath and take in the views.
The walk took a twist. We snaked under, around and up to get to Market.
Market morphed to Portola and we followed them both, mirroring traffic, gaining elevation. Step after step, we traversed the saddle of Twin Peaks.
We left Sutro Tower behind us.
Above this crest, we were treated to a whole new section of the city. Everything got a little more suburban. There was space. There were driveways. There were yards. Hell, we even saw this place that looked straight out of a movie -- discarded play bike turned over and left on the grass.
We made it now to a beautiful wooded area of SF. I marveled over and over that we were still in the city limits. The trees were large, old and looming. The streets winding. I got lost in the getting lost.
Then, as we turned a corner, we were greeted by a man and his Labrador. The pup was too excited to be there, tugging and pulling at his leash. Dog controlling owner.
And we were there.
Beautiful, forested. Full of great vistas, shady benches and friendly dogs.
With a stop for a little bit of swinging, we pushed on a bit farther to what we learned was Grand View Park. They weren't kidding when they named it!
And, as we descended the hill, we were treated to one final surprise. From our vantage, we saw many people taking photos on the stairs we were descending. It seemed curious, but not unusual.
Only when we turned around, did we discover the city's last present to us.
All in all, I am once again thankful that I live in a city that surprises me on a daily basis.
Thank you, San Francisco!
Tuesday, May 21, 2013
Oldies But Goodies.
(Day 21: A List of Links to Your Favorite Posts in Your Archive)
This was harder than expected. I never seem to like anything I've written.. especially after the fact. In addition, I decided to add a few posts from my other blogs.
1 - Pre-Traveling: First post on this blog. It's great to remember the feeling of giving up everything for the unknown.
2 - A Week in the Desert: Such an unexpected stop on my journey cross country. This first Burning Man experience will always hold a special place for me. So much so, that I am hesitant to go back and alter my perspective on it.
3 - Maui: Just love this collection of photos of my time here.
4 - I'm in Heaven: Ton Sai, Thailand. Truly heaven on earth. One of my favorite spots on Josh and my tour of Southeast Asia.
5 - Traveling: It is amusing to re-read this now. I like thinking about how I actually accomplished this. .. At least a little.
6 - Tropical Weather: I like the photo in the post and the musings. And I always miss these things.
7 - Red Walls, Aching Muscles: Being a tour guide was hard. But also, rewarding.
And from my other blogs:
1 - 4 Years and 2000 Miles Apart: Life in SF versus life in Maui
2- Lovesick for Wanderlust: Disjointed and strange, I think this accurately depicts my traveler's itch.
3 - 5-Hour Blink of an Eye: Being an adventure travel guide.
4 - Chronicles of Our Cat: I love my kitten.
This was harder than expected. I never seem to like anything I've written.. especially after the fact. In addition, I decided to add a few posts from my other blogs.
1 - Pre-Traveling: First post on this blog. It's great to remember the feeling of giving up everything for the unknown.
2 - A Week in the Desert: Such an unexpected stop on my journey cross country. This first Burning Man experience will always hold a special place for me. So much so, that I am hesitant to go back and alter my perspective on it.
3 - Maui: Just love this collection of photos of my time here.
4 - I'm in Heaven: Ton Sai, Thailand. Truly heaven on earth. One of my favorite spots on Josh and my tour of Southeast Asia.
5 - Traveling: It is amusing to re-read this now. I like thinking about how I actually accomplished this. .. At least a little.
6 - Tropical Weather: I like the photo in the post and the musings. And I always miss these things.
7 - Red Walls, Aching Muscles: Being a tour guide was hard. But also, rewarding.
And from my other blogs:
1 - 4 Years and 2000 Miles Apart: Life in SF versus life in Maui
2- Lovesick for Wanderlust: Disjointed and strange, I think this accurately depicts my traveler's itch.
3 - 5-Hour Blink of an Eye: Being an adventure travel guide.
4 - Chronicles of Our Cat: I love my kitten.
Monday, May 6, 2013
Exploring.
(Day 6: Without answering with your job, how would you answer the question, "What do you do?")
What do I do? ..
Hmm.. What do I do..?
I'd like to say .. I explore.
I try to do this as often as possible.. Though, maybe, some weeks are less exploratory than others.
While I haven't been out of the country in quite some time.. and, to be honest, only out of California a few times in the last a year .. my goal lately has been to explore our City as much as possible in the free time that I have.
With the weather turning, Josh and I have taken to the heights of SF. There are so many untouched hills around us that have been preserved as parks which we can hike to the top of and soak in the Bay area.
Take such examples:
Haight to Heights -- 5.5 miles, two peaks: Buena Vista (575 ft) and Corona Heights (520 ft)
A pretty walk with a nice stop in Hayes Valley for brunch and then two peaks I had never previously known of before. Lovely views of the city.
Almost to Twin Peaks -- 3.8 miles, two peaks: Tank Hill (650 ft) and Kite Hill (unknown height)
Feel like you might want to almost hike Twin Peaks but want to avoid tourists and cars and whatnot? Great vista points and no bumping elbows!
Trusty Bernal -- 3.8 miles, 1.5 peaks: Holly Park (274 ft) and Bernal Heights (433 ft)
This is the standard everyday hill hike. The most bang for your buck: close and pretty steep. Plus, the most amazing views of everywhere in the city. Adding in Holly Hill adds distance and a new vantage. Worth it.
So.. I strive to explore not only my own city as the year slips by.. but hopefully more of the country and eventually (please sooner rather than later) more outside our borders.
What do I do? ..
Hmm.. What do I do..?
I'd like to say .. I explore.
I try to do this as often as possible.. Though, maybe, some weeks are less exploratory than others.
While I haven't been out of the country in quite some time.. and, to be honest, only out of California a few times in the last a year .. my goal lately has been to explore our City as much as possible in the free time that I have.
With the weather turning, Josh and I have taken to the heights of SF. There are so many untouched hills around us that have been preserved as parks which we can hike to the top of and soak in the Bay area.
Take such examples:
Haight to Heights -- 5.5 miles, two peaks: Buena Vista (575 ft) and Corona Heights (520 ft)
A pretty walk with a nice stop in Hayes Valley for brunch and then two peaks I had never previously known of before. Lovely views of the city.
Feel like you might want to almost hike Twin Peaks but want to avoid tourists and cars and whatnot? Great vista points and no bumping elbows!
This is the standard everyday hill hike. The most bang for your buck: close and pretty steep. Plus, the most amazing views of everywhere in the city. Adding in Holly Hill adds distance and a new vantage. Worth it.
Thursday, July 14, 2011
red walls, aching muscles.
my legs ache slow in the memory of yesterday's 12 mile hike.
i started the day apprehensive -- i've never been good at uphill. and, as we walked down the side of the canyon, the sun rising fast over the reds and purples of arizona's most famous tourist attraction, i worriedly cast backward glances at the steep slope we were descending.
the day grew warmer.
we stopped in the green grove of indian gardens - 4.5 miles from our initial outset, 3000 feet lower than where we first began. despite my protests, i was convinced to hike the last 1.5 miles to plateau point. as i trudged, barely lifting one foot in front of the other, i regretted not turning back when i could. even when i saw the barred barriers marking the edge of the trail, i felt underwhelmed.. and almost gypped.
but oh! to look over the edge of the grand canyon, already a half a mile into the center and to see the beauty, the expanse and the depth of what lay below in the same vantage! words nor photographs cannot describe this breathtaking site!
the return trip, however, was a different matter. all former concerns proved true and i struggled immensely with the steep incline. my breaths short, my breaks often. and today (a testament to my eventual triumph over the cursed/beautiful canyon) my body cries in protest of the exercise it was subjected to.
----
this morning in short phrases: early, fast, accounting and swervy driving.
this evening: spectacular.
we pulled into monument valley just in time for our 6:30 open-air truck tour. as we settled in and got to know our tour guide, willie, i finally began to put images to the words i'd been reading for days. this, yes, was just old (REALLY old) sediment carried by wind from the rockies, built up in layers and broken down by erosion. but to actually experience the reds, the oranges and the layers of great expanse. the randomness of the formations spread across the desert like haphazard artwork. such was unbelievable. (i wish you were here.)
the 10 of us laid in a row, our backs to the soft orange rock, looking up through the formation shaped like an eagle's eye as willie sang native songs, drummed and played the flute. (you'd love it here.) eating homemade navajo tacos with the red-walled cliffs and the company of great friends and laughter. (maybe you'll do this with me soon some time.)
and then, exhaustion.
hits hard, fast and suddenly. ready to close my eyes for another 6-hour blink of an eye.
i started the day apprehensive -- i've never been good at uphill. and, as we walked down the side of the canyon, the sun rising fast over the reds and purples of arizona's most famous tourist attraction, i worriedly cast backward glances at the steep slope we were descending.
the day grew warmer.
we stopped in the green grove of indian gardens - 4.5 miles from our initial outset, 3000 feet lower than where we first began. despite my protests, i was convinced to hike the last 1.5 miles to plateau point. as i trudged, barely lifting one foot in front of the other, i regretted not turning back when i could. even when i saw the barred barriers marking the edge of the trail, i felt underwhelmed.. and almost gypped.
but oh! to look over the edge of the grand canyon, already a half a mile into the center and to see the beauty, the expanse and the depth of what lay below in the same vantage! words nor photographs cannot describe this breathtaking site!
the return trip, however, was a different matter. all former concerns proved true and i struggled immensely with the steep incline. my breaths short, my breaks often. and today (a testament to my eventual triumph over the cursed/beautiful canyon) my body cries in protest of the exercise it was subjected to.
----
this morning in short phrases: early, fast, accounting and swervy driving.
this evening: spectacular.
we pulled into monument valley just in time for our 6:30 open-air truck tour. as we settled in and got to know our tour guide, willie, i finally began to put images to the words i'd been reading for days. this, yes, was just old (REALLY old) sediment carried by wind from the rockies, built up in layers and broken down by erosion. but to actually experience the reds, the oranges and the layers of great expanse. the randomness of the formations spread across the desert like haphazard artwork. such was unbelievable. (i wish you were here.)
the 10 of us laid in a row, our backs to the soft orange rock, looking up through the formation shaped like an eagle's eye as willie sang native songs, drummed and played the flute. (you'd love it here.) eating homemade navajo tacos with the red-walled cliffs and the company of great friends and laughter. (maybe you'll do this with me soon some time.)
and then, exhaustion.
hits hard, fast and suddenly. ready to close my eyes for another 6-hour blink of an eye.
Monday, August 10, 2009
hiking.
hiking involves a lot of walking uphill.
i always think that i really want to go go hiking but, upon reflection, what really i want is a scenic walk in the woods. i mistake those a lot.
that being said, i had a really good time hiking up at mount diablo. the park wasn't as green as i expected but it was a really nice park and a beautiful day so i was really happy to get out and enjoy the scenery.
on the way home, it was really cool to see the fog centered immediately over the city. there was this one cloud that looked like it was a wave folding in upon itself, crashing over and enveloping this one emerald green hill. the fold was almost frozen in time, so as we drove closer, we could see the inside of the "wave."
on the bridge heading back into town, i played tourist: camera out the window, taking pictures of us re-entering the fog.
Sunday, February 15, 2009
in the mountains.
once we came back from southern luzon, it was time to head up north. we got off a bus in manila, settled down at a hostel and soon learned that the buses to banaue left at 10PM. we quickly bundled up our stuff again and boarded another bus for a 10 hour ride to banaue. sick and tired, the bumpy bus ride was not extremely pleasant, but when we disembarked early in the morning to the view of the mountains through the morning fog, it was quite worth it.
the next day, we did the long hike to batad, a small town with magnificent rice terraces housed in the valley of the mountains and only accessable by hiking. it was a hard hot hike for me, but we made it and it was definitely worth it.
we left for sagada (another mountain town) a day or so later to see the hanging coffins of the ifugao tribe and the caves. we arrived in the midst of the town's annual fiesta and were treated to a parade of the different zones of sagada, complete with traditional music and costume. one night, we even got to see the town's beauty pageant (which was, if nothing else, extremely long -- starting at 9PM and lasting 'til past midnight).
we went caving one day and it was one of the highlights of my trip so far (minus the complete submersion in cold cave water while wearing blue jeans). it was so much fun squeezing into tiny crevices, holding on to the sides of dropoffs and, sometimes, being plunged into complete darkness when our guide's lantern would go ahead a little too far. :) we got to see a bunch of fun formations, including a dinousaur's footprint!! hehe
another day, we took a short hike to echo valley and saw some hanging coffins up close. we met some funny tourists there that thought the chairs hung along with the coffins were for people to meditate on.
from there, we headed back to manila to plan our trip to the island of palawan!
the next day, we did the long hike to batad, a small town with magnificent rice terraces housed in the valley of the mountains and only accessable by hiking. it was a hard hot hike for me, but we made it and it was definitely worth it.
we left for sagada (another mountain town) a day or so later to see the hanging coffins of the ifugao tribe and the caves. we arrived in the midst of the town's annual fiesta and were treated to a parade of the different zones of sagada, complete with traditional music and costume. one night, we even got to see the town's beauty pageant (which was, if nothing else, extremely long -- starting at 9PM and lasting 'til past midnight).
we went caving one day and it was one of the highlights of my trip so far (minus the complete submersion in cold cave water while wearing blue jeans). it was so much fun squeezing into tiny crevices, holding on to the sides of dropoffs and, sometimes, being plunged into complete darkness when our guide's lantern would go ahead a little too far. :) we got to see a bunch of fun formations, including a dinousaur's footprint!! hehe
another day, we took a short hike to echo valley and saw some hanging coffins up close. we met some funny tourists there that thought the chairs hung along with the coffins were for people to meditate on.
from there, we headed back to manila to plan our trip to the island of palawan!
Monday, December 15, 2008
island living. .
after bangkok, josh and i headed for koh tao in search of some island life.
after a long train ride and an EXTREMELY rocky boat ride, we arrived tired and travel-weary on koh tao.
the island was quaint and small, with nice beaches -- but it turned out it was mainly devoted to scuba diving, which we, it turns out, cannot participate in.
after staying a night at a scuba resort, we traveled north to haad sanrei where we found a cheap bungalow close to two of the shore towns. the bungalows were nice and clean and were owned by a lovely motherly lady. we beach bummed a few days, reading and relaxing, and also took a long very steep hike up a mountain to two view (where you can see both shores of the island at once).
also of note in koh tao, i had the most delicious pad si yew i have had since i've come to thailand -- so far, nothing can beat it. (also pictured: josh's american breakfast)
after koh tao, we took a much more pleasant boat ride to koh phangan, where we ended up staying for about a week. koh phangan is a much larger island with more to offer than just scuba diving so we made it our home for a while. we stayed at the awesome haad rin thai resort, where we made friends with the front desk lady, mam. (we even took her out to dinner one night which made for a fun adventure since she spoke little english and we spoke even less thai.) haad rin, the beach we were staying at, was full of restaurants playing illegally copied movies all day long and random party buses cruising the town. we frequented a local bar/restaurant most days and also took a few trips on motorbike to other parts of the island to see other beaches and to check out waterfalls.
overall, it was a little more touristy than we would like, so we packed up and left for krabi.
after a long train ride and an EXTREMELY rocky boat ride, we arrived tired and travel-weary on koh tao.
the island was quaint and small, with nice beaches -- but it turned out it was mainly devoted to scuba diving, which we, it turns out, cannot participate in.
after staying a night at a scuba resort, we traveled north to haad sanrei where we found a cheap bungalow close to two of the shore towns. the bungalows were nice and clean and were owned by a lovely motherly lady. we beach bummed a few days, reading and relaxing, and also took a long very steep hike up a mountain to two view (where you can see both shores of the island at once).
also of note in koh tao, i had the most delicious pad si yew i have had since i've come to thailand -- so far, nothing can beat it. (also pictured: josh's american breakfast)
after koh tao, we took a much more pleasant boat ride to koh phangan, where we ended up staying for about a week. koh phangan is a much larger island with more to offer than just scuba diving so we made it our home for a while. we stayed at the awesome haad rin thai resort, where we made friends with the front desk lady, mam. (we even took her out to dinner one night which made for a fun adventure since she spoke little english and we spoke even less thai.) haad rin, the beach we were staying at, was full of restaurants playing illegally copied movies all day long and random party buses cruising the town. we frequented a local bar/restaurant most days and also took a few trips on motorbike to other parts of the island to see other beaches and to check out waterfalls.
overall, it was a little more touristy than we would like, so we packed up and left for krabi.
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