Easing into winter

Poof! goes another month or two. And all of a sudden it's winter again. I still haven't gotten used to the violent swings in the weather here - both on a day-to-day basis and a seasonal one. It seems as though I missed Fall by blinking at the wrong moment. One morning I woke up and it was winter. Winds are now hitting 60 mph again (yuck!) and the clouds have that thin, wispy look to them that heralds snowfall rather than thunderstorms. Vedauwoo is totally snowed in, and the cracks choked with ice - time to start driving south.

But before all that happened, Halloween came upon us again. I carved my first pumpkin (guess which one!):



And I was introduced to the other good use for white gas:



I also went to a costume party, snazzily dressed as a submarine captain (no mean feat in a landlocked state). No shots of that, but there were some pretty hilarious costumes this year: Bulldog With Lipstick, the Dude, Tom Parchman (bit of an in-joke but the funniest thing I've seen in months), and of course numerous Slutty [Insert Occupation Here]. A good time, as usual. If Sweden hasn't already imported this holiday wholesale, it should.

The Mericans also had an election, which can't have escaped your notice. I tired of the whole circus well before the primaries were over, but then again I can't vote here. Joe seems to have been happy to do so, though:



In the end, and as expected, our team won. Or as they say back in the Old Country: "Rätt låt vann, för en gångs skull". Can you imagine what would've happened if McCain had won, and then predictably croaked before the end of his term? The most powerful country in the world could've ended up with a leader that needs to be briefed on the difference between continents and countries. And you thought Bush was the bottom of the barrel...

But back to it being cold and nasty in Wyoming. This year I have A Plan: I'll escape the windy purgatory that is the Laramie valley as often as possible by going to the deserts of the southwest. Just a few states over, in Utah, Nevada, Arizona and New Mexico, the sun shines 365 days a year and the climbing is as tasty in January as it is in July. Even better, actually, since summer in the desert can be pretty punishing. I tested my cunning plan recently, minus climbing, by heading down to the Moab area in Utah. A paltry 8-hour drive through Colorado takes you to some pretty spectacular scenery:



We arrived quite late at night, and consequently I almost shat myself from sheer surprise and wonderment when I stepped out of the tent in the morning. The landscape surrounding us was, for lack of a better word, mind-blowing. Sandstone towers, canyons, rivers, mesas and buttes as far as the eye could see, and then some. We quickly hiked into the most adjacent cool stuff: the Fisher Towers area. The views were quite dramatic:



The rock architecture was beyond freaky:



Although apparently not all that solid:



We made up it up to the Titan before turning back. At 900 feet, it's the tallest free-standing tower in the US, and standing underneath it inspires an immediate wish to climb to the top. Unfortunately the "hike" up seems a bit steep:



After exploring Moab a little bit, and noting the proliferation of old men in very tight bike shorts, we made an afternoon foray into Arches National Park. And there were plenty of arches in there, alright, in addition to other pretty things to look at. Landscape Arch is a fairly unlikely-looking formation, and indeed a good chunk of it fell down in the early nineties:



The local sandstone is anything but stable, apparently. We made our way up to Wall Arch only to find out that it wasn't actually there anymore:



This is the second time I've arrived at a sandstone tourist attraction only to find a heap of rubble staring me in the face - one of the Twelve Apostles in Australia managed to collapse just months before I came to see it. So if you're anxious to see a funny sandstone formation somewhere in the world, I recommend going ASAP: put it off and you might just end up viewing gravel.

The sunset in the Park was lovely:



And it made our destination, Double O Arch, look quite pretty:



As an aside, climbing up onto the second O in hiking boots felt less than trivial. The 5.easy slab move to gain the top had me puzzled for a good 5 minutes. Oh, how I detest low-angle friction climbing...

The next day we woke up in one of the Indian Creek campgrounds. Seeing the North Six Shooter on one side of the canyon, and a couple of thousand crack climbs on the other, was inspiring as all get-out. I immediately resolved to come back as soon as time and gas prices allowed. Tentatively, I'll spend Thanksgiving giving my thumbs a workout and my hands new scars.

But we weren't there to climb; we had come for the hiking. So we went into Canyonlands National Park, and ventured onto the Joint Trail in the Needles. The Needles is a magical-looking blend of towers, fins, valleys and miniature peaks, all in brilliant reds and whites, interspersed with green vegetation:



If you look a bit closer between the sage brush, you'll notice the ubiquitous cryptobiotic soil. It's funny mix of bacteria, algae and protists that forms the basis of the desert food web, and is probably the main reason the area is so green. In spots the ground is almost blackened by the thick mat of microorganisms:



Treading carefully to avoid centuries of bacterial build-up, we made out way through the maze-like trail. There were so many spectacular views that the mind became almost numb after a while: when every corner you turn is more fantastic than the next, it's hard to appreciate how nice the scenery is. But we did stop and get some pictures, at least:



There were plenty of spires to be gawked at and walked through:



Some cool and windy caves to pass:



And even a decent imitation of a slot canyon (probably the best reason to take the Joint Trail in particular):



After 11 miles of fantastic views but strenuous hiking, we arrived back at the car totally pooped. Some milkshakes and beers later we had re-equilibrated and made camp. Having brought a 20 F sleeping bag to a 15 F party, I quickly learned how cold the desert nights are. Shaking ice off the rain sheet in the morning brought home the point, and also did marvels for getting out of there as quickly as possible. A long and uneventful drive brought us back to home base and the drudgery of everyday life. But I'll back soon enough...