Death Valley Days

Got back early yesterday morning from three days in Death Valley with Merritt and others. The wildflowers were in full bloom, which is unusual and short-lived in this desolate area.

Day One was an exploration into Forge Canyon, where we were the first party to ever descend it. (Canyoneers call this a "First Descent" and as you might expect, it's rather rare.) It was a lot of fun, as we never knew what to expect and had to construct a natural anchor at each of the 12 rappels. I really enjoyed the challenges of deciding how to anchor each rap, then moving rocks around when necessary. My favorite part of canyoneering is solving problems with anchors, rappels, route-finding or downclimbing. With a first descent there is also a sense of mystery and discovery, and of course we had to pack plenty of extra rope and emergency equipment to prepare for unknown contingencies. I was very grateful we had this opportunity to join the group, led by Rick Kent, who has done first descents on many of the Death Valley canyons.

Day Two was another exploration of sorts into Scottie's Canyon, much of which had been hiked from the bottom but with no descents that we were aware of. Seven of us hiked up a mountain, stopping to explore the remains of an old mining operation, including a few standing buildings. As we approached the summit of our hike before dropping in the canyon the wind started picking up, almost knocking me over while we climbed the faint trail. Once we dropped in, the wind reached hurricane levels as it stormed up the canyon, gaining incredible force. One gust literally pushed three of us uncontrollably about 15 feet, knocking over two women. I'm not experienced in these matters, but I'm guessing 70 mph or more. Walking over to the first rap I looked down and it was like a wind tunnel blasting up at me--really quite frightening. After about an hour of waiting, debating and soul-searching we reluctantly headed back, realizing that we didn't know what was ahead of us and the winds would make rappeling and downclimbing on the descent potentially dangerous. The rest of the group headed home and Merritt and I hiked up Scottie's from the bottom, taking on a few sporty climbs that were exposed enough to make me uncomfortable, although Merritt handled them quite well.

On the third day Merritt and I descended Coffin Canyon. I had done this canyon a year ago, but from the top, which involves a car shuttle and at least five miles of slogging through sand and gravel. This time we planned on approaching from the bottom. In the past this has been done through the Copper Canyon entrance, but unfortunately that was closed due to a recent fossil find. The Park Service recommended an alternate route which their people had scouted out and left cairns. We decided to take it, especially since getting caught in Copper Canyon would result in a $5000 fine.

Unfortunately, the new approach was very difficult and involved a lot of clamboring on all fours up steep slopes with loose scree and gravel or crumbly hand-holds. Many times I felt dangerously close to a long and uncontrolled slide back down with unsavory implications. To make it worse, we discovered that the cairns were set in unusual places, not necessarily marking a trail but rather at high points in the general vicinity of the trail. (We discovered this when we precariously scrambled to one of them only to find a lone peak with no exit except the way we had just come. That was my least favorite moment of the trip!)

Finally we dropped into Coffin and enjoyed this lovely canyon, which includes a 185-foot rappel that seems like about 400'--definitely a sobering drop. Also there's one rap that goes from above to below sea level, which is kind of interesting. Afterwards I dropped Merritt off at the Las Vegas airport and drove home. I hit the wall about 11 p.m. and had to pull over and sleep a few hours, then woke up and arrived home about 3 a.m.

It was a fun trip in a big, desolate and generally unfriendly country. It once again makes me appreciate the incredible diversity in our natural world.

Photos from Luke

Vita Brevis

I couldn't help but feeling a little sad today. This morning I attended the funeral of Newell Stevenson, our stake patriarch and a truly wonderful human being who passed away at 88 years old. The funeral was short and sweet because, according to his son, a week before he died Newell told him that if the funeral ran more than an hour he was going to get up and leave. I guess no one wanted to call his bluff!

This evening I attended a viewing for Terry Crowther, a friend from Park City who passed away unexpectedly from a heart attack. He was only 61. Terry and I served together at church in Park City and I always enjoyed his company and appreciated his friendship. After he moved to Salt Lake City we still spoke occasionally on the phone or got together for lunch. He was the first person that told me about Redmond Minerals, where he worked for the past eight years or so. He loved it there, and I could feel his enthusiasm and pride as he talked about the company, extolling its virtues. Terry had a heart of gold. He was instrumental in getting Merritt his job at Redmond, when he responded to an email I sent out asking if anyone had need of an intern. Terry also had an unusual family situation. He was divorced, but stayed in very close contact with his ex-wife and, in fact, considered her his best friend. It was a pleasure to meet her and his daughter at the viewing tonight, as well as other members of his family.

All this on St. Patrick's Day, which always makes me think about my Dad (Farley). I wore the sweater and tie I bought when we were in Ireland, which I do every year in his memory. All day I was reminded that this life is short and we must someday say good-bye to all of our loved ones.

I look forward to seeing them all again.

Killing Time at Borders

I.
Just the thought
Makes me slink in shame;
Thinking of what Thoreau said
In his condescending way:
“As if you could kill time without injuring eternity.”
This while he sat nights
Under the lamplight
Scribbling in his ledger,
Accounting for each penny
Spent remodeling his shack.
He thought it was idyllic.
I might prefer the Irish wit:
“When God made time, he made plenty of it.”
I think my ancestors would have
Been charmed by Thoreau;
Spending their meager shillings
Buying one another pints.

II.
The sharp young man wore a tie
To make a good impression.
He answers the man's questions,
Taking pains to mention
All his worthy points
As if by accident.
He has an easy manner for his age;
With only a trace of stagecraft.
He is enthusiastic
And full of youthful energy
While still sounding almost professional;
And almost experienced.
He will almost get the job, I realize
As the interviewer feigns interest.
Maybe tomorrow
He will wear his tie again.

III.
How are these ladies connected?
One in her 40’s and the other barely 20.
Aunt and niece perhaps?
Or co-workers maybe,
Which often makes strange bedfellows—
Or their female equivalents.
The younger talks about herself.
The older gives advice.
They speak in a synchronous flow
Reciting a litany of crises and dilemmas—
Matched by solemn admonitions
With no room for debate.
They pretend to listen politely
While each awaits her turn.
It is a practiced art; a quiet opera
Over coffee and rolls in the afternoon.


IV.
So there we sit.
The five of us together,
Yet comfortably separate;
Me looking rapt
At my book on Templar Knights
Picked frivolously from the shelf:
Warrior monks protecting pilgrims
As they journeyed to Jerusalem.
But the Knights don't interest me
As much as the conversations,
So I alternate my attention,
Giving each equal time
While picking at my muffin;
No better or worse than Thoreau,
Who lived so well he felt
The need to write a book about it.

Twitter Birth

We kept abreast of the developments of Merritt and Stacie's home birth last night via Twitter, which was pretty cool. Here are the transcripts and approximate times of Merritt's Tweets:

8:42 p.m. Email: Good chance Stacie will give birth sometime tonight. If you want updates, follow us on twitter: @alphanumerritt @StacieJo
~8:50 p.m. I think MJ will be the only one sleeping at our house tonight
~9:00 p.m. Had some friends over for dinner. Stacie was amazingly composed despite contractions every 5-10 min. As soon as they left, it intensified.
~9:00 p.m. ..kind of like her body responded to the demands of her environment, very darwinian
~9:20 p.m. contractions less than 4 min apart
~9:30 p.m. midwife says she's coming over, though stacie seems to be doing fine and progressing normally (to me, anyway)
~9:35 p.m. we're betting on a 1:30am birth
~9:40 p.m. she seems to be progressing fairly quickly, well under 3 minutes in between contractions
~9:45 p.m. smooth music going, dim lighting, hot tub filled with warm water: we should have more dates with this kind of ambiance!
~9:50 p.m. this is actually pretty cool - very low stress and coke zeros just a fridge door away
~10:00 p.m. looks like there's going to be a healthy dose of back labor involved, means I'll be working the massage and pressure to the lower back
~10:45 p.m. no midwife yet, she should be here any minute, though now I kind of wish she wouldn't show up for a while
~11:29 p.m. water broke - I was peeing at the time but stacie decided she needed the toilet more, I agreed
~11:30 p.m. (too much detail?)
~11:45 p.m. no fun and games now, birthing ball (aka exercise ball) comes to the rescue again!
~12:15 a.m. things are pretty intense at the moment
~12:30 a.m. lots of moaning like a banshee, not to transition yet, but things are movin
~12:40 a.m. updates expected to be less frequent from here on out
12:50 a.m. "I'm doing whatever feels good...I think I'm pushing." -Stacie
1:08 a.m. time of birth 1:01 am, she's big and beautiful, came out singing to the music
1:08 a.m. five min of pushing
1:17 a.m. that was pretty surreal
1:17 a.m. mom and baby look and feel great!
1:20 a.m. minimal mess
1:30 a.m. we're fans of homebirth, so much more relaxing before, during, and after