Mel worked on her 4-wheeler riding skills over the weekend. I suggested it would be a good idea since we tend to hit some pretty remote areas. She was slamm'n mud holes and 3-wheel'n a 4-wheeler before the weekend was over (she could get it in reverse, too!).
Mel and I had two great adventures at camp this past weekend. This is NOT the story about the adventure where it was getting dark, we were running out of gas on the 4-wheeler and had to ride hard top d-line for 10 miles or so to get home on gas fumes. This little adventure seems more like we planned it, even though we had no idea what we had planned. Mel worked on her 4-wheeler riding skills over the weekend. I suggested it would be a good idea since we tend to hit some pretty remote areas. She was slamm'n mud holes and 3-wheel'n a 4-wheeler before the weekend was over (she could get it in reverse, too!). So anyway, we decided to ride to Holly River State Park. We visit there often, take pictures of a waterfalls at Potato Knob and visit Shupe's Chute. I realized we'd never actually tried to go up Potato Knob Trail. This is probably because it looked pretty steep (and it is). On our last trip to camp, we discovered that about the only 'trail-like' thing about Holly River State Park Trails are the trail markers, when present. A GPS Unit is recommended, FYI. We rode to the Park from camp, about a 30-minute ride, probably 8-10 miles. The road is gravel mostly and a really beautiful ride. When we arrived in late afternoon, there was no one around, no vehicles in the parking lot, and it was a kind of overcast afternoon. So, I strapped on the camera backpack, canteen, took a rain coat, and handed off the tripod to Sherpa Mel. The trail is steep. Very steep. Once again, Holly River State Park trails are not for children or the faint of heart or body or mind or poor shoes or heavy backpacks. There were a number of times when we thought we must be about to reach the summit, but we were wrong several times. At one point, we shed much of our gear, after about 45 minutes up the mountain. There was no one within sounding range, and the next traverse was steep and slippery. And, it was not the last or the worst. The last rock shelf climb is about 10 feet high. Unlike National Parks, there are no steps or stairs, just slick rocks polished by the people before you. In the end, it was worth the climb. The vista was magnificent. Some hardy souls had packed enough works up the trail to build a friendly bench to rest upon. Unlike my recent adventure to Yellowstone, I expected no crowds nor roaming rangers. I knew should the Park Ranger find my 4-wheeler in the parking lot when they closed the gate at 10pm, they'd be pissed if they had to gather troops to come look for us, especially after they learned I was a WV native. The trip back down the mountain was easier, but the quads suffered the 30-minute down-hill trek, nonetheless. At the bottom, we still had some time before dark, so we took a breather and water break near Shupe's Chute and I got a few good, late evening shots. A 30-minute ride home and it was time for a camp fire, some olives, cheese, bread and of course, a Martini. Another successful camp adventure complete, I now have an ideal, if not convenient, mountain top vista for my list of place to photograph. Until the next adventure begins...
0 Comments
OK, 18th day after returning from my Romantic Cowboy Adventure, and I am still experiencing symptoms of withdrawal ~ humidity is killing me ~ still waking up before the sun rises ~ frightened by loud animal noises immediately to my rear ~ and looking for Moose and Bison Bison everywhere I go, especially at night in the glare of the headlights as I drive. I had this dream last night, or maybe it was a vision as the sun rose, or perhaps it was like a Lightroom editor's burn on my retina, something akin to a welder's flash that burns until you're blind or you can see once again... So there I was, riding along, sun in the sky and birds above, haze in my eyes, on an inner tire tube? Below some good beer was floating next to me with the newest Kid Rock and Beastie Boys songs twisting in my head. I saw a little tree limb, thought how pretty it was as it passed me by, looked up at a perfectly surreal blue sky! Little did I know, Walter Cronkite's jacket was going on, preparing for the headline of tonight's latest and most tragic news. Good news it is, should you have failed to grab the limb or see the significance of its importance in your immediate future, the next thing you might see would be, in deed, spectacular! Go toooo the light, that's what I'm thinking! Walter tightened his tie and grimaced though did you not know him you might have thought it a grin. So, odds are, it would be a rough trip you wouldn't remember. But, if you were the lucky type, like me, perhaps you'd float adrift, face up for a while. Sun in your eyes so you'd squint and your face'd look like you had a smile! (kinda like Walter's grin). You could do this and ride, happy for probably a good long while, nearly a mile! But after a spell, a time that would seem a short while, you'd have visions of Lodge Pole Pine limbs hanging low from the sky. You'd grab and grasp at their invisible limbs thinking all the while how they looked green, slick and slim. You'd reach and struggle, stretch to the sky, but you'd not reach that first and last little limb that you'd let pass by. You'd think of your kin and your kids if you had any, wonder if they'd forgive you should they know what an idiot you'd been, for failing to grab that Last Straw, that tiny pine-like limb. Dumb as you might and clear as the sky to thee, the ride's not over for a venturer such as yourself or the remains of your body such that they might be discovered to be... Dreamy this journey would seem to you, Idiot, that failed to grasp that Last Straw. Ahhh such is life, the rise and the fall, lucky would we be could we float along the entire time with our beer, Kid Rock, Beastie Boys and thee. Damned that Last Straw can be, I am happy on my way to the unknown, down stream sea. I awoke in a sweat, no visions of sugar plumbs in my head just yet, as it seemed there was some place I needed to get? Where could it be, where would I go? Looking around, there were those stairs. Those damned stairs that were always begging me to go below.
Shower and shave, suit and tie, brush the teeth and grey hair, turn the radio on in the little car and off to work I go. Maybe I'll sleep better tonight? Surely I'll sleep better tonight. I'll turn up the AC and curl up a little bit. Damned rhymes, pictures and shit. I'll sleep well tonight, 19 days after the adventure from which I returned and dremt of last night. More music and arts! The FSU music camp brings in a crowd! Another great day. Plan to attend next year! Well, today is my first festival and public "show". It's rather anonymous, being in the next town down. Continuation of this blog probably depends on how well the two day event goes. If its boring and slow, this could be a long blog! Bonus is that there will be wine and music at the Heston Arts and Music Festival! Ok, tuck is loaded and easy to go! Great location next to the stage AND the bar! Temp is warm but there is a breeze. Music is great. Had a great day. Ready for day 2! Give me a comment if you want directions for Sunday! Well, up at 5:45 and off to the airport at 6:15. Head feels a bit like a cracked egg, but the Cowboy Bar was fun. Looking to a layover in Dallas, then home to PIT by 6 or so. A long day with a nap or two on the itinerary. Little bit of a delay at DFW to get the plane's door closed, but back to PIT by 6:30. Mel acquiesced and picked me up at the airport, then treated me to a celebratory pizza and beer. And so ends My Romantic Cowboy Adventure...
|
Archives
May 2015
|