Ramparts Overlook

This is not only a story about a hike we did today, but also a story about the first time I went to Ramparts Overlook two years ago.  It is a story about time, and love, and my best hiking dog.

Jay at Rose Creek Falls and the Stairway Portage, BWCA, September 2009

The weather was looking iffy again this morning.  I didn't wake up thinking we should do this hike, but when the sky cleared a bit, Jon and I set out.  Cedar Breaks National Monument is a spectacular place--one of my favorites.  It is a short drive, there are no crowds, and while some people will hike to Spectra Point, very few will continue on to Ramparts Overlook.  The amphitheater is roughly 3 miles wide with a 2500' drop.  You can hike a beautiful stretch of the rim without having to shuffle around anyone or be trapped behind a guard rail.  Fortified by not only Jon's arrival, but his arrival with WARM CLOTHES, we took off with our poles and braved long sections of mud to get to Spectra Point.

Approaching Spectra Point, trail is on the left, with the Twisted Forest and the North Rim Viewpoint in the distance.

Beyond Spectra Point the trail gets less use, but is always visible.  It leaves the rim and descends to follow Shooting Star Creek.  This is a very quiet and private stretch, with good smells, and Jon spotted several mule deer.  The creek, full with the recent rain, makes the descent peaceful and lush.

Dropping to Shooting Star Creek--too bad you can't see how much mud is on Jon's boots!

After passing bristlecone pines clinging precariously to the rim, we climb again to Ramparts Overlook.  Some people go off trail past this point, too, but the conditions today did not allow for that.  We stayed awhile before retracing our steps back.  Slipping and sliding much of the way.

A misty Ramparts Overlook

Back to my best hiking dog.

Jay and I hiked often, and would take hiking trips together in the fall.  He was a very intuitive dog, and he was very much my dog.  He loved nothing better than being in the wilderness with me, sleeping in a tent together, having a fire at night, reading a book by headlamp.  He was a steady and patient hiker.  I would be struggling with the map and he would be sitting up on a rock, or a stump--waiting for me to realize he was already on the right path.  He was quiet and respectful of wildlife.  He put up with my picture taking.  When I was hiking with Jay, he was beside me as a partner, as an equal.

Above Duncan Lake, BWCA 2008

When we bought our UT place in March of 2011, I couldn't wait to bring Jay here in the fall.  I had no idea I would lose him to hemangiosarcoma two months after the closing.

We came out to remodel in June 2011, and I drove up to Cedar Breaks.  I didn't even know what Cedar Breaks was, I was just taking the back road to Home Depot to buy paint rollers.  I pulled over at the North Rim Viewpoint, and from the parking area it just looks like trees and sky.  When I crested the rim, and saw the view, my heart broke.  All I could think of was how wonderful it would have been to sit on the ledge with Jay, how unfair it was that he was gone, how angry and bitter and sad I was.  Oh, it is so hard to set those emotions aside, even when we know we should. 

Now, I take Mac and Apolo there whenever I can, just because it feels like the right thing to do.

Mac asks, "Does this wind make me look fat?!"

Apolo photobombs the North Rim

Two years ago next week, I drove out to UT with Mac, and Jon and his mom flew out for a few days.  Grief is sneaky and conniving.  I kept thinking, "This was the trip I was supposed to take with Jay."  After Jon and Marian flew home, I went up to Cedar Breaks for the sunset alone.  While you can take a dog to the permanent overlooks, you can't take a dog on the hiking trails, so I had no choice but to head for Spectra Point by myself.  Once there, I figured the five people standing on the ledge were five too many, so took a hard left and kept going to Ramparts.

September 28, 2011

Something happened in that stretch.  Something happened when I got to Ramparts Overlook.  I sat there for a very long time; I am not sure I have ever felt so alone.  But it was then I could see Jay was not gone, because he is a part of me; he lives in my memories, and he lives in the person I became because he was my dog.  I carried him in my heart that day, and felt him on the breeze.  He was in the sunset, he was in my footfalls.  He was the sky and the trickle of the creek.  He was the raven on the ledge.  And so a place Jay never physically visited became a place where I can go to feel close to him.  If you have bothered to read this far, I am guessing you have loved someone who is now gone.  I wish you a place like this to return to.

It was good to be there today, and better to not have to hike it alone this time.

We might have to pressure wash these.

Three Trees

Still raining.

Quaking Aspen

But still beautiful, too.  And the rain makes the trees smell even better than normal.

Engelmann Spruce (I think.  Don't go to the bank on my spruce identification.)

I have several habits out here.  One favorite is to have a glass of wine on the deck as it is very sheltered and private, surrounded by aspen and spruce.  I seem to angle my chair the same way every time, which gives me a view of three particular trees.  Quaking Aspen grow in groves and are often propagated by a single parent tree, so I think of these three as brothers.  And since the aspen knots look like eyes, it is easy to feel a friendly, yet watchful, persona radiating from them.

Psst, how many glasses of wine is that tonight?  I think two?  Nah, she topped that second one off, so I count three.

 Fingers crossed for better weather tomorrow!

Umbrella, Anyone?

Southwest UT is having some unusual weather--rain, rain, and more rain.  The creeks are all running high, the ski slopes are green, and people are shaking their heads.  Famous for bright blue skies, UT is in a bit of a weather funk.

Mom and I toughed it out and went to Bryce Canyon National Park anyways.  Maybe we were overconfident after scoring a few hours of sunshine yesterday--we studied the radar maps on our iPhones, and decided to be optimists.  "It's clearing up!  It can't rain all the time, geez.  I am sure the sun is really trying to peek through over to the south."  We drove across the plateau in the rain, swung by Panguitch Lake in the rain, hung out in the visitor center waiting for the rain to stop, then finally put on our fleeces and went to the rim.

Basically, Bryce Canyon was trapped inside a giant cloud today.  We bailed on hiking and came home early.  Bummer.

If you're the only two people at Inspiration Point, there might be a (meteorological) problem.

One of the great things about today was getting close to a Common Raven.  I just love them.  They are found in so many places and thrive in all but the harshest environments.  Despite their wilderness prevalence, they are not fond of urban life.  They are an intelligent, playful, loyal, and clever bird, usually game to share the best natural gems with us.  I doubt I've been on a hike without seeing one, and they are everywhere in northern Minnesota.  A raven, above all things, reminds me of home.

Don't worry, I forgot my umbrella, too.

Great end to the day--Jon is here!  (With my raincoat!)  So, we are a family of four in Utah for the first time.

The Twisted Forest

West of Navajo Peak, on the north border of Ashdown Gorge Wilderness Area, is a very important place.  The Twisted Forest is home to the Great Basin Bristlecone Pine; bristlecone pines can grow for thousands of years, with green needles persisting 45 years, and dead trees remaining for centuries.  Collectively, bristlecone pines are believed to be the oldest non-clonal organisms on the planet.

Bristlecone pines growing on the far slope past the entrance to Ashdown Gorge

The combination of slow growth, and extreme conditions due to altitude/weather, make these bristlecone pines stunted and gnarled.  They twist to survive, and sometimes only small strips of vascular cambium live to sustain small branches.  The trees grow spaced from each other, and their seeds are planted by nutcrackers.

So!  Today, my mom and I went there with Apolo.  Don't feel too bad about Mac, he had an eventful morning, and has been to the Twisted Forest before.  This is a short trail to a gorgeous overlook, but everything feels strenuous to Minnesotans during their first full day above 10000'.  Also, there are limitless areas to walk and explore, including splashing through a small spring that goes on to become Red Creek.

The best thing I do with my dogs is hike.  So, it was wonderful to spend today exploring with him.

If you can't be awed here, I can't help you.

Sadly, the bristlecone pines are not able to replace themselves fast enough to sustain their numbers.  The unfortunate combination of climate change, and habitat destruction, threaten their survival.

Old tree, sweet dog, tall cairn.  Three of my favorite things!

And if you are thinking the cairn in the above photo is precariously close to Apolo's nose, you are correct.  I had to rebuild it after his curiosity snuffed out the top third.  :)  Carins are of great use here, not necessarily because the trail is essential, but because finding the exit after wandering around is.  Today the spring was running, so it was easy to follow the sound of the running water out.

When we crested the top of the forest, we were treated to beautiful views of the Ashdown Gorge, the Cedar Breaks amphitheater, and the ribbon of Rattlesnake Creek.  I always get a bit of heart failure here as the amphitheater is about 2500' deep.  Look out, friends--not down.

Smooch!

Cedar Breaks and the Markagunt Plateau are home to a summer explosion of wildflowers.  Due to the recent rains, some of the flowers are still blooming, so we were able to appreciate a couple of the stragglers.

Scarlet Paintbrush

Doesn't hurt to pass through some beautiful stands of aspen on the drive out.  Tomorrow, Bryce Canyon!

Cool Mountain Rain

Arrived today at our place in Utah with my mom, Mac, and Apolo.  After a miserably hot and humid stretch in Minnesota, and 1500 miles behind the wheel, I can't explain how wonderful it is to be here.

Cool mountain rain.  The smell of the pines coming through the deck door.  A comfortable throw we bought several years ago was folded and waiting on the chair.  The silverware fits in my hand, and stays on my plate!  (Inside joke.)  Mac remembered the way down the steps and zoomed straight to our door, which made me smile.

Looking forward to sharing some of our trip adventures here!

The boys outside of Sundance, WY (Which was a scorching 96 F.  Eeep.)