Meandered West

After three weeks in Colorado backpacking with my brother and taking part in the Goruck Ascent,  I picked Dan up in Fort Collins.   Stopping at Safeway to fill the cooler with food for four days and topping of the gas and water tanks at a Cheveron, we headed west.  Driving with little urgency, we stayed off I-80 and made our way a few hundred miles per day.

Remnants of a forest fire.  Bumfuck, Nevada.

Eureka, Utah.

A normal fault in Nevada.

Fishing in Colorado.

Teepees in Nevada.

Sunset off of US-50.

Breakfast.

Burning daylight.

At $5, this Magna will be a prime hill bomber and ornament for my Safari rack.  Yours truly in Eureka, Utah.

In search of 3g service, we cruised up dirt roads to the top of hills.

Those are the mountains above Salt Lake City in the background.

This horse did not.

Target practice.

Plotting our trip by attractive sections of BLM and National Forests, we marched through Colorado, Utah and Nevada.  In the evenings, we pulled off on dirt roads and drove up into the hills in search of a level section with a view to park the Syncro.   Always in keen  for a river to fish in or a mountain to hike, we stopped frequently and often backtracked.  In short, we meandered west.

Here are some more links,

West (Picasa),

Eureka to Eureka (Picasa).

Chevy van

Call it van envy or perhaps appreciation, but driving down a gravel road headed towards Carbondale, I spotted this beauty, a late 60's Chevy van, parked at a trailhead.  Having spent the last five years on the East Coast, where regularly salted roads make specimens like this as rare as dreadlocks at an NRA convention,  I quickly pulled a U-y and parked.  As a thunderstorm marched in from the north, I jumped out of my van to take a better look.

The windows were open, the tires low and the body covered in dirt but that's why I like this van.  Some things look better rode hard and put away wet.

The bumper looks like it has traded paint with the best of them.

Blue, black, white and a shot of rust.

General Motors Company.  I hope to see more like this out there on the road.

Here are some more links,

GMC (Picasa),

Chevyvan (Wikipedia).

Gothic

Growing up with  parents  who went backpacking on their honeymoon soured my relationship with hiking as a kid.  I bitched when my dad dragged me on hikes around the Columbia River Gorge and was jealous when my friends went to Mexico for spring break while we went backpacking through the Grand Canyon.   "I just don't see the point of walking for the sake of walking," I often spouted on our weekly jaunts.  Huffing and puffing up hills, I fantasized about chairlifts, four wheelers and other painless ways of making my way to the top of mountains.

My early attempts to distance myself from dehydrated meals and Thermarest sleeping pads proved to be futile.  As my teenage insecurities subsided and my attention span lengthened, I founded comfort in cruising along trails through the woods.

After spending a few nights in eastern Oregon, Idaho and Utah,  Tim and I headed towards the mountains and valleys of the Gunnison National Forest.

Slate River Valley, outside of Crested Butte CO.

Outhouses along the Gunnison River.

Avalanche chute.

My Henry lever action .22L.

Ridge top.

Reflection at 11,00o feet.

Stream crossing.

Snowfields above treeline.

Four skips.

Starch.

Remember Sinkers or Floaters from Most Extreme Elimination Challenge?

For a week, we used the Syncro as a base camp, driving around the seemingly endless single track roads.  By night we  slept around campfires and cooked on propane stoves.  By day we hiked around the numerous mountains and tried to catch fish in the countless streams and rivers.  Change happens fast when you focus on it.

Here are some more links:

Gothic (Picasa).

Pale Moon Light

I rolled over and opened my eyes.  The evening thunderclouds had cleared, exposing a full moon that  illuminated the eastern Oregon landscape.     Shoving my head out of my mummy bag, I leaned up and looked around.  The interior of the Syncro lit up like I was parked under a city street lamp.

Canon 5d Mark II, 50mm f1.4, .06 seconds.

Checking my Luminox  watch, it was just 11:17 PM.   After a day of hiking and driving my brother and I had called it a night soon after sunset.  Peeking out of the window, I spotted Tim sleeping under a nearby juniper tree, sans tent.  Cracking the window, I grabbed my camera steadied it against the window frame.

After a few minutes of walking around the high desert landscape snapping pictures, the comfort of my LL Bean sleeping bag seemed rather appealing.  Gingerly hopping across the sage-covered ground, I jumped back into the Syncro to enjoy a few more hours of sleep before a hike up a nearby mountain the next morning.

Here are some more links, Pale Moon Light (Picasa), Copper Kettle (Bob Dylan).