Just a Little Ahead of the Curve

I heard part of an episode on Forum on NPR this morning. The subject was the aging of the Baby Boomers, who are now turning 60 at the rate of 1 every 8 seconds. Their level of self-absorption and non-conformity and all of that herald some significant changes. The idea of being "old" is not a comfortable one, and part of our struggle is transitioning from the end of our working careers into the rest of our lives. But we are fighting the very notion that aging is happening to us, in spite of the considerable evidence that it is. This is another reason for the attempt to get into hiking, to take advantage of the decent physical shape I've been lucky enough to maintain, and to find an activity I really enjoy that brings with it exercise and lifestyle benefits. Now I hear that being validated, that the true Boomers (I'm barely a pre-Boomer) are going to be doing the same thing.

Back to the Sierra Club trip. I've taken several motorcycle trips through Utah, and the southern part of the state has some great "blue roads," those non-interstate winding routes that follow the contours of the terrain. There are stretches of canyons in Utah that are barely identified on the maps, have no signage or parking areas, that would, in any of about 40 other states, be proclaimed state parks at the very least. So the chance to get off of the road and to see something remarkable there had some real potential.

So I fell for the Sierra Club description:

"A backpack trip down the Paria River Canyon should be on everyone's list of things to do before they leave this world. Unsurpassed in beauty, remarkable in color and form, it is an experience that you will savor forever. Unlike the Grand Canyon, which can be overwhelming in its vastness, the Paria is intimate and has a gentle subtlety in its beauty. The deep-red sandstone walls of the canyon, finely sculpted by the ages, offer a feast for the eyes and a healing quiet for the soul."

Together with the fact that hiking 38 miles along a river meant a week-long downhill journey, it was an easy sell. If anything, the description falls short of describing the place. Intimate vs. vastness. This part of Utah features what they call slot canyons. Being in them it is difficult to tell how deep they are, but it has to be a few hundred feet. Intimate almost means claustrophobic, as there are spots in Buckskin Gulch, which merges with the Paria, where you can touch the opposite walls of the canyon, one with each hand. The Sierra Club web site's pictures ring true, but fail to convey the dramatic nature of much of the trip.

It was an interesting group, and I was the only male. Each morning we would evenly divide by weight the common supplies, notably the food and cooking gear, add our share to our own gear, and head off down the river bank. Which meant that within a span of between 2 and 10 minutes, we'd be walking in the river to get to the other side, or, if there was no side, we'd keep walking in the river. Each afternoon we would stop and set up our tents, usually near a spring, and a couple of the party would have cooking/cleanup assignments which rotated through the group.

Now I had done some camping in previous years. Ruth and I went on a series of Backroads trip, of the hiking/camping variety, and they were great. Backroads is an outfit that features lavish brochures, with a variety of destinations as well as a variety of activities, whether bicycling, hiking, kayaking, "multi-sport," etc. They also offer a variety of accomodations, from camping at the bottom of the scale to inns at the top. But their camping is of the "pamper" variety. They provide the tents, they set them up, take them down, provide the air mattresses, etc. All you do is carry your bag from the van to the tent and unpack/pack. Carrying your own food? Oh no, the van (or one of the vans) pulls the trailer with the food and the stove and the pots and pans and dishes. They provide the food, cook it, do the dishes. They take you to your hike and pick you up at the end. It works really well. My personal recommendation is to try it. True, you do have to sleep on the ground, and the nearest flush toilet is more than 10 steps from your tent. The inn option will solve both of those problems, but much of the sense of a shared adventure is lost when the group leaves the inn dining room to go to their rooms. On the camping trips, there can be a campfire, and who wants to go sit in a tent when that is going on. On our first Backroads trip, in the Canadian Rockies, the campfire never happened, as it didn't get dark until 10 pm that far north. We didn't realize how important the campfire was until a Yellowstone/Teton trip had one each night.

But it is another world when you are out there on your own, carrying your food/shelter/clothes/etc on your back. No flush toilets in the Paria River Canyon. In fact, you have to bring your used toilet paper out with you. Kind of a different world. And those packs get heavy, although as the trip goes on the food burden gets lighter, and your shoulders get used to it. In short, we had a great time, marred only by the fact that upon getting in our van for the long ride home, the engine had a recurring hesitation, and it was a weekend with garages closed, even in 24-hour Las Vegas. Turns out some rodents were munching on the ignition wires during the week we were in the canyon. Tip: throw some food particles under the biggest gas guzzler in the parking lot.

It built up our confidence, and more importantly, got us on the mailing list of Melinda Goodwater, our guide. Seems she does several Sierra Club trips each year, but then does a few longer trips on her own. We soon got her one page brochure in the mail. So if one trip is good, two must be better, right? We will see.