Category: Backcountry

Infinitense

Rejuvenance awaits

Head west and follow the sunsets,
Toward horizons always yonder.
Keep the distance in your sights,
As you hike the trail to infinitense.

Beyond the edge of what you see,
Countless moments wait to be.
And once you’re there,
You’ll set them free.

Distant magic waits to happen,
Out of sight, but not of mind.
Wake it with your presence.

So, cross the valley,
Ford the river,
Climb the ridge,
And engage the magnificence that awaits,

Infinitense beckons.

When you get there,
Drink in every drop of what you find.

See the
Thundering waters and towering waterfalls,
Huge forests teeming with life.
Desert mountains full of quandary,
Rolling prairies of waving grass.

But don’t just saturate your heart with awe.
Embrace the treasure,
Join the moment,
Replenish, refresh, reload,
And remember…

When you reach one horizon,
Another is born.

So, keep hiking.

Infinitense never leaves,
It’s forever just ahead.
And there’s always a trail that’ll take you there,
To the place beyond compare.

Audio Version:

Indian Blankets for a moment

The Heartbeat

 

Distant rope team crossing the Kahiltna Glacier
Crossing the Kahiltna Glacier in Alaska

Touch the ground with both your feet.
Feel the rhythm calmly beat.
Even through the rock and grass,
A heartbeat faintly rumbles.

Persistent pulsing
Soft, but lively.
Listen closely,
Answer wisely.

There are times it talks with words of thunder,
Howling winds, or crashing wonder.
But it’s mostly through peaceful silent breaths
That it tells its awesome tale.

Let it pull you with its rope,
And fill you up with hope.
Though you may not know the words,
It will magnify your scope.

Hear the music with your eyes,
See the clouds across the skies.
Bask in rays of winter sunshine,
And watch as waves approach the shoreline.

It is…

Star-filled nights and crispy mornings,
Tornado funnels without warnings.
Rolling dunes of glassy sand,
Forgotten places beyond man’s hand.

Gentle streams and roaring rivers,
Monstrous cliffs that give you shivers.
Fields of tundra filled with flowers,
Afternoons consumed with showers.

Rock towers covered with Bighorn Sheep,
Canyon walls so very steep.
Ocean trenches mighty deep,
Sights and sounds that make you weep.

Mountain crags and endless deserts,
Places thriving on the outskirts.
Caves reaching ever inward,
Jungles vast and still unhindered.

So many chapters in the story,
Sometimes gloom, but always glory.
So, touch the ground beneath your feet,
And feel the rhythm calmly beat.

Audio Version:

Fisherman standing on a rock in the middle of a mountain lake

Mired in the Mud

Backpackers crossing a creek
Crossing a creek

Backpacking down the trail.
I come to a creek,
And look for a crossing.
It’s a dry one I seek.

Suddenly I’m stopped,
Mired in the mud.
A boot gets stuck,
And I fall with a thud.

I feel my body,
And nothing seems hurt.
I decide to get up,
And wipe off the dirt.

Except…

The dirt that covers my hands and legs,
Is gooey, wet, and awful sticky.
And to clean it off now I realize,
Will be a task that’s mighty tricky.

So, I wade into the stream,
Where the water is wet.
Wash off the mess,
And loudly scream.

Now that I’m clean,
But thoroughly soaked.
I continue across,
My dry crossing revoked.

I clamber out of the water,
On the other side.
Drenched to the hilt.
And I begin to slide.

The weight of the backpack,
Pulls me back.
Toward the water,
And I begin to totter.

Once again I fall,
Onto my back this time.
My pack’s submerged,
But without the grime.

My stuff’s all soaked,
My elbow aches.
Getting up is hard,
And my body shakes.

Finally, I’m up,
And proceed once more.
This time careful,
As I reach the shore.

Then, it’s out of the water,
Up onto the bank.
This time it’s easy,
I have two fails to thank.

Audio Version:

backpackers on the trail
Backpacking

The Incessant Wind

2 people standing on a rock and looking out at the mountains
Watching the Wind

Turn and face the wind,
And feel the voice,
Touch your skin.

Close your eyes,
And drink it in.
To your past,
You are akin.

An unknown something,
Makes you stir.
What’s behind you,
Is a blur.

Some people, paths, and places,
Are familiar yet unknown.
You see no one with you on your journey,
Yet you never feel alone.

Yesterday is always there,
Standing quietly by your side.
Forever it is with you,
As your mentor and your guide.

Whether it slaps you in the face,
Or nudges at your back.
The wind is your friend,
And helps you down the track.

No matter if it roars,
Or sings a lullaby,
It always blows around you,
And will never say goodbye.

So, rejoice that it’s there.
Know the power of your yore.
Seize the moments of your day,
And treasure times that came before.

Descending into a valley in Bolivia.

Wilderness

A photograph of a mountain lake reflecting the surrounding mountains

The wilderness welcomes with whispers and wind,
Vast deserts, huge mountains,
And forests unthinned.

A place where rainstorms, blizzards, and droughts,
Coexist with the fog,
The clear skies, and mist.

It beckons and hides,
Lures and derides.
It comes and goes,
Just like the tides.

It conceals vast treasures,
But opens its arms,
To all who would seek them
And sounds no alarms.

Constantly changing.
Extreme to serene.
From wildfire and thunder,
To calm and wonder.

It comes in all shapes
And in many sizes.
Its horizons expansive
And full of surprises.

Even though
Many folks never go
To lands faraway and wild.
It’s good to know
They still exist.
That frontiers yet persist.

Whether you hike into such places
With your body or your mind,
Rejoice in the magic that there you’ll surely find.
As you immerse yourself in its wonder,
Take a moment to relish and ponder.

And don’t try to make it better,
Nature’s working on those tasks.
Just leave it like it is,
That’s all it ever asks.

Continue reading “Wilderness”

Bigger than Life

mountain landscape
Everywhere you look

It ebbs and flows,
And comes and goes.
Astounding, profounding,
And sometimes confounding.

Feel the pulse that proves it lives,
Drink the moments that it gives.
Touch the ground beneath your feet,
Hear the rhythm and the beat.

Gentle giant that roars and cries,
See the magic with your eyes.
Ever-present in our lives,
Often injured yet survives.

Quietly listen to the words,
Watch the movements of the herds.
Restless, patient, wise, and strong,
Always right, but sometimes wrong.

It answers every call,
No matter big or small.
Pushing forward from within,
Always there through thick or thin.

Like a force field in the air,
That commands life everywhere.
With silent words of endless hope,
That connects things like a rope.

Breathe it in and soak it up,
Let the nectar fill your cup.
Mother Nature, rest assured,
Always has the final word.

Audio Version:

A pot of gold awaits

The Meatgrinder and the Puke Loop, A Few Years Later

One of the Hunt area trails
The Devil’s Staircase on the Meatgrinder

Old trails never die, they just get harder to see.

The names of the two trails do an excellent job of describing them in a few short words- The Puke Loop and The Meatgrinder. Their heydays of being a few open and pleasantly flowing pieces of path connecting extended sections of tight turns, horrendously steep climbs, and complicated descents have long passed. But the unfortunately angled roots, cactus, poorly placed rocks, and riding/hiking/trail running memories endure. More than just a few body scars remain on people to help tell something about what the two were like back in the day. And undoubtedly, some think of mountain biking the Puke Loop whenever they find themselves hugging a commode.

Continue reading “The Meatgrinder and the Puke Loop, A Few Years Later”

Elk in the Mosquito Range

The Colorado Rockies

There must’ve been close to 100 elk filling the valley below me, and I was astounded. I didn’t want to do anything to call attention to myself, so I just sat there quietly, peering at them from behind a boulder. It was pure luck that put me in the right place at the right time, because wildlife viewing hadn’t been one of my goals for that day.

Continue reading “Elk in the Mosquito Range”

Why Climb Mountains?

 

 

Rope team ascending Mt Ancohuma in Bolivia
Rope teams on Ancohuma in the Bolivian Andes

Cross the creek,
And climb the peak.
Forever seek,
The high ground.

Above the clouds,
The mountains rule,
Clear skies command,
And life expands.

So, kneel before the throne,
And kiss the summit’s hand,
See true majesty exert itself,
Upon the boundless land.

Audio Version:

Golden Lake in the Wind River Range of Wyoming
The Wind River Range, Wyoming

A Way of Giving Thanks

The Tarryalls

Embrace the time and place,
That puts a smile upon your face.

Wallow in it,
Soak it up,
Savor the moment,
Pour it in your cup.
Plant the vision in your mind,
Tell the story to remind.

The memories don’t have to disappear,
Or become less clear.

For me, I still….

Feel the river jostling my canoe as I marvel at the sunrise over the Del   Carmens.

Ponder the quiet of the Tarryall Mountains as I lean against a rock on the top of Bison.

Taste the Tuna Surprise we ate on Mount Borah.

Am amazed by the midnight sun as it finally begins to set over the Kahiltna   Glacier.

Hear the Popo Agie River roaring while I search for a good place to camp.

Feel the flow of the Puke Loop when I finally point my bike downward.

Make the right combination of moves near the top of the Rock Staircase.

Turn my eyes away from the blowing wind and snow as I near the top of       Huayna Potosi.

See the Milky Way come to life as I look up from my bivouac in the Winds.

Walk to the cadence of the Semana Santa drums in Copper Canyon.

Smell the campfire telling me how to get back.

Each instant a wonder,
A tale of its own.
Remember and treasure,
Help it be known.

 

Audio Version:

Ecuador