In 1872 John Weseley Powell, one of the great early explorers and cartographers of the west, explored the East Fork of the Virgin River with a mule train. It's hard to imagine how he did it. This is Parunuweap, a Paiute term that translates to "roaring water canyon." Today we find out why, and share the 2007 journal entry of Sol Fitness Adventures guide Aaron Ogden.
" Very excited today, my sense of exploration is kicking in. Started to hike up Parunuweap Canyon. The scars from the last flash flood were humbling on how much force can be driven down the canyon (5 days ago the flow of the river went from 35 CFS to 600 CFS).
This canyon does not hide it's majesty. Towering canyon walls are the gateway for today's hike. Due to the storm, the water is murky and the river bottom is padded with sandy sediment which has made for easy hiking conditions. Quicksand is abundant around every corner. Nan received her Paiute name today, "Runs Across Quicksand." Most of us had our turn for sinking into the sand. For the most part, the sand only tried to take our shoes off - and Mark's leg. It is a little nerve racking walking across quicksand at first, it's like your mind is programmed to think that you will sink to the ends of the earth if you get caught in it.
Shortly into the hike we came across "Fat Man's Misery," a slot canyon on the north rim. It had an inviting (sarcasm) sulfur smell due to the natural sulfur spring that emptied into a pool of water. To climb into the canyon we had to lower ourselves into neck deep sulfur water and then climb a river-scoured, smooth rock surface lined with algae that made for a fast glide down. Then we crept into the next pool of water, very creepy - the water was termed "organic" because as you tip-toed across the bottom you could feel plant life rubbing against your legs and possible lesser forms of life scattering from every wading foot step. We were met with defeat at the next pool, as we were not able to climb the small spring-fed waterfall.
We continued upstream to "Obstacle #2," a debris-choked water fall with interesting consequences if you fell into the waterfall. Everyone climbed with confidence and success.
Our final destination of the day was Carcass Camp. This would have been day 2 camp on the original itinerary. Mel and I climbed to the top of the canyon to discover thunder storm clouds on the horizon and possibly raining in our drainage. This put us into alert mode and we made quick travel to the river just below base camp.
During our hike today Mark received his Paiute name, "Flies with Butterfly's." All throughout the trip large yellow butterflies would fly up to Mark and check him out. It was as though he had something sweet to offer them. It couldn't have been too sweet - he hadn't showered now for a few days; but whatever it was, he seemed to have a magical charm for the butterflies.
Near the river below base camp we found the tribute to our hero, John Wesley Powell. This section of the canyon was choked with huge boulders, bigger than small homes that forced the water into waist and chest deep channels. I AM LOVING THIS! Here is where I got my Paiute name: "Plays like Little Boy." After paying our homage to the canyon we made our way back to base camp.
Social hour again started at dusk with some deep discussions and great stories as we reminisced the day. I place my pad a little closer this time to show that I was more connected with the group.
The sky gave us another awe-inspiring moment as the constellations rolled by."
Aaron Ogden lives in Salt Lake City, where he is a personal trainer and runs a company to introduce children to the outdoors.
Sol Fitness Adventure guide David Bassett, wrote the following after his 2007 trip to the Barracks section of Parunuweap:
"On our second evening, we head up off the canyon floor in search of a bivouac. We find a flat patch of red earth and I rush off with camera and tripod in search of magic light and a composition. Upon my return, Melanie is standing at our campsite soaking in the evening. In almost a reverent manner, she invites me to look around. I sense she is not asking me to simply enjoy the grandeur of the canyon at sunset. She is inviting me to discover something. Something worth discovering. I survey my surroundings and there it is - just a few feet away at our same height, nestled under an overhang in a rock wall. These bleached bones are nothing like I've ever seen, as I'm staring at the intact skeleton of a big horn sheep. Properly named. We stare together. It is beautiful - if such a thing can be said about bleached bones. The discovery invites more questions. Did this old fellow simply come to this overhang in a moment of turmoil after a life patrolling these canyons, only to loose the struggle? Or was it a cougar? It's a question that naturally needs to be addressed. We do our best but arrive at no conclusion. But for what it's worth, Melanie decides we should position our sleeping bags close together on this night, in this place. Just in case."
David is a resident of Denver, Colorado, and logs his own epic adventures in his blog, http://www.bucketsinlittleton.blogspot.com/
Parunuweap, Paiute for "Roaring Water Canyon." The following is an exerpt from Sol Fitness Adventure's guide Aaron Ogden.
"Hiking terrain is beautiful. This is truly one of God's wonders, such diverse terrain: steep sandy hills, scorching red rock vistas...towering plateaus, and water eroded canyons - truly amazing!
Hiking in this heat is beginning to take its toll on my body and brain. My thoughts are so scattered: Good thing I brought plenty of tape to wrap the sole of the boot back onto the boot; wish Steph could have come; I stink; my thoughts are all over the place; this is beautiful country; Nan owes me a couple more choice words; how in the hell do you say cairns? Mel's arms are freak'n ripped; it's good to be away from the city; my sweat doesn't taste very good; how was the earth created? how was that notch formed? that peak reminds me of an ice cream cone; I miss my kids already; it is f#@$ing hot! I hope it doesn't rain, I didn't bring the rain fly. I AM LOVING THIS!"
Aaron Ogden lives in Salt Lake City, is a personal trainer, and runs an outdoor fitness program for kids.
Greetings from Zion National Park, Utah! One of the most visited parks in America, Zion is the gateway to Sol's Redrock Backpacker multi-day trip down the East Fork of the Virgin River. Our adventurers, not content to view the park from within crowded shuttles or walk 100 yards to take pictures with the masses, are about to leave the pavement, exit park boundaries, and venture deep into the Parunuweap Wilderness Study Area, a vast expanse of land managed by the U.S. Bureau of Land Management.
During the next four days we will be unplugged: no cell phones, no internet. A terrifying thought for some. This is the backcountry, where fitness levels get tested and mental fortitude is trained. Wilderness is what we came for. We will hike approximately 20 miles of river with everything we need to survive on our backs. We will explore narrow slot canyons, sleep under the stars, and barely see another person.
We may be unplugged, but to track our scheduled progress you can check the blog daily for excerpts from Sol's guides and clients on previous trips. Then, stay tuned in the next few weeks for sentiments from our latest trip, as Amie, Bobby, Fritz, Kathleen, and me, Melanie, aka "River Prophet," go into the wild!
It's just another day in the life of three adventurous Utah women.
I teamed up with my sister, Lindy Webb, and Jeep guide guru Cathy Church in Kanab, Utah, to scout an exit route for Sol's upcoming trip into the Parunuweap Wilderness, and ended up with one epic day.
With Cathy at the wheel we explored the off-road labrynthe of desert behind the Coral Pink Sand Dunes, harvested a rattle off an 11 year old dead (phew!) rattlesnake, and blazed trail in and out of the East Fork of the Virgin River. After four hours of driving trying to find the right trailhead, Lindy and I converted an already strenuous exit route from the river into a butt-kicking, 2 hour race against the clock. We scrambled our way down the scree slope, virtually ran through poison ivy-lined narrows to the river, and sprinted back up to the top. As we came over the top of the ridge we looked up to see Cathy's fire waiting to greet us. We made our way back to base camp in time to watch the silouette of Zion monoliths fade into the sunset and followed the brilliant stars of the Milky Way galaxy back home.
She's a good old mountain, Old Rag. At just over 3,200 ft, Old Rag is the highest elevation within a 2 hour drive of D.C. and well worth the trip. With spectacular views of the Blue Ridge Mountains and open fields below, the hike was great training for my upcoming backpacking trip to Utah.
Sol Sistah Elana is finding her land legs now that her days of collegiate open water swimming are over. She used her endurance power and athletic focus to overcome her asthmatic lungs and we made record time on Saturday - until we ran into a line of hikers waiting to pass through the rocky narrows. Elana and I both focused on our lats to make sure our wobbly shoulders stayed in the sockets as we shimmied our way up and out of the boulders and to the top of a gorgeous summer day.
The kids of the DC 3rd Ward gave new meaning to the phrase "herding cats" on our recent tubing trip down the Potomac River near Harper's Ferry. But what did we expect with 5 adults and 15 kids between the ages of 8 and 17?
We might have fared better had we been sent down the flat water section we had requested; but when the bus driver dropped us off he somehow failed to mention the key phrase "white water, and we innocently jumped on our tubes and began the float downstream before we realized what we'd gotten ourselves into.
I suppose the best thing about teenagers is their ability to be present, to seize the moment and make the most of a situation that frankly scared the shorts off of those of us who brought up the rear. Then again it could be those young brain synapses that haven't finished connecting - those were the days!
This YouTube posting pretty well sums up the experience:
I've talked about competition before. An athlete has to be able to dig deep in order to succeed at any event, whether it's purely recreational or if they're going for the win. But add an unexpected variable, like inclement weather, and suddenly the competition goes not necessarily to the fittest, but to those with the most mental and emotional fortitude - the instinct to survive.
Yesterday's Pike's Peak 13 miler in Colorado tested the survival of friend, photographer, and Sol Adventure guide David Bassett, who was one of only 365 runners to reach the summit in unseasonably frigid conditions. of the 1,800 runners who started the race, only 761 finished. The rest of the participants were turned away at mile 10, forced to travel up to 21 miles round-trip in freezing hail and constant rain. Unprepared runners were treated for hypothermia, while experienced outdoorsman like David, whose yearly summits of Mt. Ranier and thrill seeking skiing at Vail had already exposed him to severe weather and tested his limits, persevered to the top.
David trains his body by running up Eagle Mountain in his backyard, so I'd expect him to be able to finish a 14-er. But what got him up Pike's Peak yesterday?
You can read all the grueling details of David's EPIC race on his blog: bucketsinlittleton.
I spent a perfect summer day hiking in the Shenandoah's and thought the only place I'd rather be was Beijing.
That was until I heard the news from South America.
Not only am I not in Beijing, apparently I'm missing one of the most EPIC storms of the year in Portillo, Chile. Meanwhile, Freeskier Magazine reports that my friend Mitch, who I met on my first trip to Portillo two years ago, is "cackling" at his good fortune, waiting out the storm for first tracks.
There are few places that rate as high as my home state of Utah when it comes to epic places to ride, but Portillo is up there. The lodge itself is at 9,350 ft, the slopes rise to 10,859 ft, and surrounding Andes peaks, including Mount Aconcagua, tower at 22,841 ft.
If incredible ski conditions aren't reason enough to interest you ladies, I might add that being one of a handful of single women among 450 self-selecting ski fanatics had me feeling like a kid in a candy shop, better yet, a voyeur at a dude ranch. Where else can you go in August to see American superstar skier Chris Davenport stripped to his bare chest and a hot tub of Brazilian snowboarders packed tighter than a tin of sardines?
Enjoy your first tracks, Mitch, and get ready Sol Adventurers, August 2009 - we're going to Portillo!
This blog entry is dedicated to amphibians - frogs to be exact. And why not? Afterall, 2008 has been dubbed The Year of the Frog. Major companies are devoting marketing campaigns to raise awareness of the plight of frogs as a result of worldwide environmental degradation.
Tonight I went for my evening jog in Rock Creek Park and was serenaded by the basoon-esque croak of several bullfrogs, Rana catesbeiana, probably would have made an attempt to catch them too, were it not for my fear of the fierce allergic reaction I have to the poison ivy lining the banks of the creek.
Sexy and Barry White-sounding as they are, however, the bullfrog is certainly not my favorite amphibian. That would be the canyon treefrog, Hyla arenicolor, the cliff-climbing little frog I'm about to get re-aquainted with in Parunuweap in three weeks. The first time I heard a chorus of tree frogs in the canyon I thought some local boysouts had smuggled rivet guns on their camping trip. Click here for a sneak preview of our bedtime lullaby.
In 1872 John Weseley Powell, one of the great early explorers and cartographers of the west, explored the East Fork of the Virgin River with a mule train. It's hard to imagine how he did it. This is Parunuweap, a Paiute term that translates to "roaring water canyon." Today we find out why, and share the 2007 journal entry of Sol Fitness Adventures guide Aaron Ogden.
