art, photography, random thought, travel, writing

big bend birthday, year 2

if something happens at the same time two years in a row, does it become tradition?  could we say “our annual big bend birthday extravaganza”?  well, i’m going to.  starting now.

elle and i took our annual big bend birthday extravaganza a little early this year.  you see, some friends of ours decided to get married out in marathon at the gage hotel the day before elle’s birthday.  “great!” we thought.

another good excuse to create/ continue, a short-run, but beloved “tradition”.

“what do you want to do for your birthday?”  i enthusiastically asked elle a few weeks before her birthday last year.

“i wanna go backpackin’!”  she screeched back.

well, there aren’t many places to go backpacking in texas, unfortunately.  and my favorite place, big bend national park is about a nine hour drive from dallas.

so… in spite of the drive, we decided we would hike the chisos mountains of big bend (see sharing big bend).

this year, it really wasn’t much different.  her enthusiasm was the same; wide-eyed, youthful, jubilant.

the main difference was that we decided to wander the desert this time, instead of the mountains.

we camped at a bend in the river, so our view (even though camping in texas), we could see the rio grande, mexico, and then the chisos in texas.  it’s one of my favorite views in the park.  makes you think a lot about borders and survival, and how small we really are…

as night fell, the stars caught our attention.  oh the stars.

the next day we woke up and my front left tire was completely flat.  the road we were on claims many tires, and personally, it has claimed more tires (and cars for that matter) than i care to remember.  the river road.  it’s a 50+ mile long 4×4 “road”, if you can call it that in some places.

three years ago, my fourth vehicle found it’s final resting place on that road.  long story… i’ll tell the whole thing if you ask me.

anyway, back to the task at hand… i put the donut tire on, and we fled the chihuahuan desert to find a new tire.

we had fun on the drive to alpine.  elle was a belle about it.  even though it killed an entire day for us.

there may or may not have been a few swigs of wine on the way back from alpine, but i’ll never tell.

the next day we hiked into santa elena canyon, one of the park’s many popular attractions.

later that day, we also hiked one of the hidden gems of big bend, cattail falls.

and then later that evening, we did another short hike up the lost mine trail in the chisos.

that night we stayed at grapevine hills, just like we did the first night one year before.

it caused us to be a bit reflective, and think on the past year.  and laugh a bit at how far we’ve come together.

we had some dinner and some wine, and talked about where we are going.  love and marriage, etc.  life.  together.

we can do this.  life together.  some of it will be mountain tops, and some will be the lowlands.  but we seem to have a knack, and more than that, a commitment, to hiking through all of it together.  and i think that’s pretty stinking beautiful.

we woke up bright and early.

we had to leave that day to make my friend’s rehearsal dinner in marfa that evening.

but we had just enough time for one more hike…

our sojourn to balanced rock wasn’t very long but we took our time, it was beautiful.

winding through earthen spires of stone and sage and sotol.  the desert began to funnel us toward something.  neither of us had hiked this before though, so we didn’t know where or what.  but we kept going, though the landscape at times was eerie and foreboding.

along the way, ellie would jump up on the tallest rock around and scream with joy.

and that made me smile.  how couldn’t it?

and then we reached balanced rock.  it’s somewhat of a big bend cliche.

but then again, aren’t cliches cliche for a reason?

it was really amazing.  like the stonehenge of the desert, though clearly not human-born.

massive boulders balanced perfectly with one another for centuries, millennia.

resting on one another.  creating something good.  awe-inspiring.

all images and content © andrew r. slaton | photographer 2010

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film making, photography, random thought, travel, writing

…last week in wyoming…

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one of my first, and best, friends when i lived in wyoming was kim.  she recently got married and had a gorgeous little girl, kate.  first thing’s first… i had to go see them.

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now on to my animals.  a coyote searches for food in the elk national wildlife refuge near jackson.

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two ocean lake in teton wilderness provided fantastic scenery.

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on the way out of two ocean and pacific creek, one of my favorite views of the tetons materializes quickly.  almost out of nowhere, the jagged peaks come into view with force and drama.

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then, of course, the jackson lake dam provides unimpeded views of this beautiful mountain range, the grand tetons.

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a lone big horn ram wandered, grazed.

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early in the morning, the elk eat dew-covered grasses.

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lamar creek.  the hidden gem of the lamar valley.  always one of my favorite spots to sit in the morning.

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the lamar valley in the summer is a haven for the american bison.  they graze it heavily in massive swarms.

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the lamar valley is also home to many bears.  this pair, one black bear and one cinnamon black were inseparable as i watched them cross miles of open landscape.  i saw this same cinnamon about four years ago in the exact same spot.  glad to see he’s got a lady to keep him company now…

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bull elk are scattered across yellowstone this time of year.  typically alone, they seem to know that the autumn rut and breeding season will be coming in a few short months.

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sulphur stained ponds dot the landscape of yellowstone.

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a lone black bear on the northeast entrance road scavenges in the shadow of the mountains surrounding the montana/ wyoming border, near cooke city.

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not even a mile away from the bear, a fox too looks for an evening snack.

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on the road to lulu pass, just outside city limits, seedlings, clear cuts, mountains, and sky provide the backdrop for cook city, montana.

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early morning, heading back from a night spent at the cooke city dump, the mountains and fog performed a ballet.  mist danced across the tops of trees as the light watched passively from behind the clouds.

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and it only gained dramatic crescendo as i made my way back, further into the lamar valley of yellowstone.

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after a long morning hike up the side of a peak in the lamar, a lone antelope kept his distance.

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a 45 minute exposure at oxbow bend in grand teton national park, well after sundown.

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morning glow over the tetons.  i love waking up to this view!!

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mid-morning at oxbow bend.  light slowly makes it way toward me from behind, painting my canvas.

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jackson lake was glass.  a rare site.

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string lake, near jenny lake, grand teton national park.

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back to my old haunt in sublette county… green river lakes in bridger-teton national forest.

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the lower lake was in tumult, with wild winds from the south rumbling like a freight train through the valley toward the upper green.

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the green river was calm the next morning, though the sky overhead read drama.

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i hiked the highline trail toward the upper lake.  squaretop mountain spectacularly reflected the patches of sun.

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i followed massive grizzly tracks all the way to the upper lake about three miles.  it was not alone.  two smaller sets of tracks alerted me to the fact that a sow with two yearlings could be around any bend.

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on the way into little soda lake, the aspen groves catch a reflection more colorful than reality.

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cactus patches keep me aware of where i place my feet…

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just a few minutes from the front door of my old house in pinedale, soda lake reflects the wind river mountains, creating impressionistic hues that would make any artist salivate.

all images © andrew r. slaton | photographer 2009

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photography, random thought, travel

renewal year

i’m not a fan of new years celebrations.  getting dressed up, paying inflated party fees, and sipping head-ache inducing champagne, is not my idea of ending or beginning any year.  so, a last minute decision placed me in big bend national park, alone, to ring in ’09.

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i climbed to the top of the dodson trail, on the outer chisos mountain loop, and received a clear view of the year passed and the year to come.

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my new year suite… a perfect little spot in the high mountain desert.  ocotillo surround and protect my tent.

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first cup of coffee of 2009.  what a beautiful morning… and hey… no headache!  i traded my tuxedo from the night before for the “german tourist” look – wool hiking socks and chacos.  sexy, huh?

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the mountains were magical as always.  it was a real treat to spend the first hours of 2009 in quiet reflection.

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i hiked up to cattail falls, a highlight of every one of my dozens of trips to this great park.  the flow was just a trickle… like usual.  but it was cool and calm in the small canyon.

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as i hiked down from the falls, i was again rewarded with an amazing view.  i am hopeful for 2009.  cliche or not, i am hopeful.

all images © andrew r. slaton | photographer 2008

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photography, travel

elevation

i was supposed to be in spain, and then on to lebanon.  but i wasn’t.  and i have to admit, i was a little upset about it.

i have always loved colorado though.  what texas-born guy doesn’t.  twice a year, every year, as almost some kind of required activity, all texans exodus to their playground state to the north.  more often than not, we are an unwelcome sight by locals.  but when you’re a kid, you never pick up on that.

so we left 100 degree heat in dallas, and headed for the mountains.  six guys from texas.

there’s not much to look at on the drive from dallas to amarillo.  it’s 5 or 6 hours of plains, trains, and other automobiles.  lots and lots of 18 wheelers.

but somewhere in new mexico, you begin to see the foothills of the rockies.  rising up from the desert floor like an impenetrable fortress.  you begin to lose track of the time once you see your first mountain on this drive.  thoughts start to race around my brain, and i begin to get giddy like a child on christmas morning.  “what is this trip into the wild going to bring??”

we didn’t get to the cabin outside of boulder, co, until late.  we were all excited, but road weary… and after a few beers and some surprisingly good mexican food, we hit the sack.  

i woke early sunday morning to a beautiful mountain day.  just outside of the open-air room where i slept, the constant buzzing by of hummingbirds lured me out of bed.  i spent a good portion of the morning sipping coffee and photographing these amazing creatures… my kind of quiet time!

that afternoon we took a quick hike to “inspiration point”.  i kept feeling like i should be in a ’57 chevy making out with a girl in a poodle-skirt, each time i heard that name.  but it actually was quite a nice view.

ruby was the group mascot, entertainment of sorts, and scapegoat.  she’s a sweet six-month-old border collie.  but, partially because she’s young, and partially because she’s untrained and spoiled, she was a little bit of a pill to have on a wilderness backpacking trip.  she sure is cute though.

the reservoir near the cabin provided a nice day hike.  getting acclimated is absolutely essential when preparing for an extended high country hike.  so drinking insane amounts of water, exercising at mid-high altitudes, and time in higher altitudes, are all necessary to getting a body acclimated.

monday morning came, and it was time to get going.  just outside of nederland, co, is the hessie trailhead.  this is where we were to set off.  it’s also where we should come out after five days and nearly fifty miles in pristine wilderness.  the weather was amazing, and the forecast appeared as if it might hold.  we were optimistic.  

the first great view came a few hours into the hike.  ben admired creation as we took a breather.

about five or six miles in, and many thousands of feet of gained elevation, we came to a high alpine meadow.  it was late in the afternoon – the worst time in the mountains to be above tree line.  summer storms are almost daily at these high elevations, and tend to involve lightning and violent winds.  so we pushed hard as the wind picked up.  we crested the divide before the worst of the storm, and we made camp just as dusk arrived.

we comforted ourselves that night with the knowledge that tomorrow would be easy.  just a few miles of hard elevation gain, but then we’d be done by lunch.  our planned campsite was to be at high elevation, near fourth of july mine.  we would have the afternoon to take a side-hike to a nearby glacier if we wanted.  it sounded intriguing.

tuesday started with a creek crossing, and a fantastic view at diamond lake.  but we were anxious to get to our next camp.

we made it to fourth of july mine just after noon.  we found a spectacular spot, and made camp.  bart, patrick, and i decided to take the two mile (round-trip) hike up to arapaho glacier.  distance wise, the hike was no problem, but the amount of elevation-gained within the one mile up to the glacier was killer.  but it was well worth it… if only for the images i had the chance to capture.  i quite enjoyed myself.

bart and patrick weren’t done though.  they both decided to climb a 13,000 foot peak to end the afternoon.  i would not be joining them…

that night, we all slept quite well.  the stars were fantastic.  tomorrow was going to be our toughest day of the trip.

  


dorothy lake, a welcomed sight.  it made me think a while of my good friend dorothy from el paso.  she passed away when we were in college in austin.  this place seemed like a place dor would like.  a monument to a beautiful girl.

  

day three was definitely tough, but the views made it completely bearable.  the first mile was 2,000 vertical feet up, but the rest was more gradual, and quite a bit of downhill.

  

we made it down from the high country, but somewhere we made a wrong turn.  thus turning a 7 mile day into a 10 miler.  we were all exhausted when we reached camp that evening.  bart found a great spot in a clearing.  and as the sun fell, it became apparent that this was the prime spot for seeing wildlife.  first we noticed a moose across the creek from us.  then came a bull and cow elk through the trees.  all were welcomed visitors… until night fell.

  

most of us had gone to bed because with the darkness that night came a major chill in the air.  our thermometers read high 30’s.  bart was the last one up, tending the fire.  around 11 p.m. he started for the tent, his headlamp scanning the black horizon.  he heard a rustle in the creek twenty feet from our camp.  just as his lamp pierced the darkness in the direction of the noise, a big bear head popped up out of the willows.  “we got bears in camp,” he strangely whispered and yelled at the same time. the tone was such that we all knew this was no joke.  

i heard him immediately, but froze with fear.  in all the times i’ve slept beneath the stars in bear country (the majority of those nights were in grizzly country, no less), i’ve never had a bear visit my camp.  it is exactly the stuff that our primal nightmares are made of.

so after flashing our lights at the bear(s) (bart claimed he saw two together) and banging pots and pans together, it seemed the ordeal was over.  however, sleep would remain elusive for most of us the rest of the night.  and rightfully so.

around two a.m., we heard wade, one of only two brave gentlemen that was not sleeping in a tent (funny how a 1/8 inch nylon inclosure makes one feel safe), inform us that the bears were back.  it was in that same spine-tingling whisper-shout.  i jumped up, somehow angry.  this time it was patrick and i who had bear duty, in some sort of unspoken rule.

we yelled and banged the cook pot for a few minutes.  this time very loud, and a bit longer than before.  i never saw a bear, but i believed it had come and gone.  the nature of black bears is such that they really are more scared of us than we of them.  but their curiosity, and insatiable appetite, are what get them into trouble with humans.  

i was pretty sure that their fear of us was in this case stronger than their curiosity or hunger, so, we all finally caught a little shut-eye.

the next day, i think we were all thankful.  thankful that nothing else bear-related occurred the night before.  but we were all sore… and today would be another back-breaking hike.

we had come down from the high elevations only a day before, and now we embarked on a journey back up.  this time to our highest elevation yet.  up and over a place called devil’s thumb.  foreboding?  it absolutely sounded that way.  plus, we got started very late.  i think we finally set off just after 11:00 a.m.

we once again broke out above tree line at the worst time of day.  the ascent took us longer than expected… and it was hardcore.  so when we came out to the high alpine meadows, the storms began.  and this time we were in trouble.  the wind was unrelenting, and our trail seemed to just disappear.

we could see where we needed to go, but there was a 1,000 ft shear cliff between us and our next camp.  after scouring the landscape with six sets of eyes, we finally met back up with our trail.  but it took us up another steep incline, to a shale covered hill over 12,000 feet up. 

our trail then led straight into a huge snow bank.  it looked impassable.  but the storm was creeping up behind us.  so we hiked yet higher, to see if we could follow the shale up and over this massive bank.  bart again came through and found our northwest passage.

  

almost immediately, on the other side of the divide, our view shifted from dark and ominous, to bright and beautiful.  seriously.  this was one of the most beautiful valleys i have ever seen.  we were greatly encouraged by this surmounted challenge and ensuing reward.

  

  

we camped at devil’s thumb lake that night.  we enjoyed scenery and fishing, and a warm campfire.  a deep fog rolled in that evening that kept the temperature moderate, but it brought rain. 

it rained most of the night on into the morning.  so it was by far the most unpleasant morning of the entire trip because we woke up wet and cold.  not a bad motivator for the last day of a trip though.  we still had a good 6 or 7 miles left, and we were all ready for a warm bar, with a burger and a beer.

when we made it back to the cars, we were exhausted.  but the reality of this experience, and the raw nature of what we felt we accomplished was fresh on our hearts.  we smelled worse than we looked.  so when we made it into nederland, and set up camp at a table in the local bar & grill, a table of neatly dressed and freshly moussed tourists had to uproot and move across the room.

they had no idea.  they didn’t know what we had just been through and what we had seen.  they didn’t know how badly we deserved this warm seat, and the burger, and especially the beer.

all images © andrew r. slaton | photographer 2008

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