What is one of the worst things that can happen to a home baker during the holidays? The oven goes out. That’s right. What started with a dry Thanksgiving turkey ended with an error code. Wait, it gets better. We spent Monday afternoon in the ER after I took a tumble jogging with Lucia. No worries, just an enormous holiday shiner to contend with along with a bruised ego.
Holidays and hiking go together. Every winter, clear blue skies, and warm sunshine beckon all who wish to enjoy the desert in all its glory. It is just way too perfect for staying indoors.
I must say, our timing was impeccable. The forecast called for rain. Not just a drizzle mind you, a downpour, full of raging washes, flooded interstates, and general mayhem. With the prospect of three days of flash flood watches rapidly approaching, Dave and I decided to enjoy the sunrise with a view of Phoenix from South Mountain Park, followed by an early morning hike.
Defining anything as winter in the desert can be a bit of a stretch. We do have the occasional freeze, and yes, we have had snow. But this is Arizona’s time to revel—after baking in a convection oven for over five months.
The icing on the cake. That was the best description I could think of to describe our visit to Antelope Canyon X after our Wave adventure. How about a slot canyon tour that is not crowded, rushed, and allows plenty of time to absorb your surroundings? Bingo.
The Wave is an other-worldly desert phenomenon located in Coyote Buttes North, about 44 miles from Page, Arizona. It was a hidden treasure coveted mostly by locals until July 22, 2009, when Microsoft featured it as their Windows 7 desktop wallpaper. The Waves popularity grew exponentially, making it a much sought after destination. Unfortunately, nowadays, it is challenging to get a permit to visit. You have to win the lottery—the online lottery for Coyote Buttes North, that is.
It was September 26th, and snow was in the forecast. Not a dusting of snow, mind you, a full-fledged blizzard. Just our luck— we were departing on the 29th, before sunrise. Maybe it won’t stick, I thought hopefully. Think again.
Seasons change so quickly here. Everything seems accelerated. This past summer has been chilly and inclement, with hints of an upcoming winter competing with fall.
Summer is waning, and our hiking days in Canada are numbered. We are three weeks from departure, and Dave is dreaming about Arizona. But who wants to start packing when there is still time to explore?
The summer of 2017 was hot, windy, and dry. Add a lightning strike and a 300-year-old spruce forest to the mix, and you’ve got fire.
sually, when the word sightseeing is used, I’ll turn and run the other way. I know, it’s my problem, but I can’t help thinking of everything associated with it—as in tourists, crowds, lines, etc. So naturally, Dave and I were skeptical of the Banff Sunshine Sightseeing Gondola from the get-go.
This iconic mountain has an illustrious past that hails back to the mining days of the late 1800s. As the story goes, in 1896, a cook for the Canadian Pacific Railway was bet fifty bucks that he could not summit the Beehive in less than ten hours. He was to plant a flag at the top as proof of his effort. Evidently, they didn’t know how capable Ha Ling was. He left at 7am that Saturday and was back in time for lunch.
In the mid-1980s, Canmore was a sleepy little mountain town in the midst of recreating itself, following the closure of its last remaining coal mine. It was an exciting time. However, it was rumored that the action of one unnamed Canmorite would forever change the landscape of this small town.
The Three Sisters are synonymous with Canmore. Originally named The Three Nuns in 1883, it has been said that George Stewart (the first superintendent of the Rocky Mountains National Park) named the peaks after his three daughters, Frances, Olive, and Grace. The Stoney Nakoda also views these peaks as the three sisters, referring to the story of Ĩ-ktomnĩ, an old man who would promise his three sisters in marriage whenever he got into trouble.
We often share hiking stories with our neighbors, Kirstie, and Kevin. Really, the best way to know what you are getting into is to talk to someone who has done it. And recommends it. This was the case with Healy Pass in Banff National Park.
This is our summer of Kananaskis. We have intentionally avoided the hotspots in Banff National Park to focus on hikes that are much less crowded and every bit as beautiful. Our travel time is a bit longer but well worth the effort.
Dave and I love the Dorrien Smith/Spray Lake Trail. We love to take our friends up the narrow, unpaved road, through all its twists, turns, and drop-offs—just to scare the crap out of them. You can always tell if someone has been there by their white, dust-encrusted vehicle. A right of passage, at least until the next rain.
This was our second attempt to hike Ptarmigan Cirque and I am thankful to report that this time, there was very little snow to contend with. After a cold, wet and rainy June, summer decided to finally appear for more than a day or two. The sun finally came out, and so did the people.