Anyway, this trip to Spiral Jetty was special because it turned into a nightmare. The video doesn’t show the nightmare (I turned my camera off), but it turns out there’s some tar dumped out there (WHO THE HELL DUMPS TAR IN A LAKE?!?!?!), and Haley and Jemma both stepped in it. Besides fearing they’d die from eating it off their feet, we all got to breathe in the tar fumes during the two-hour ride home. We tried to soap it off with handsoap from a public bathroom (failed), used heavy duty cleaners at a friend’s (failed, and not recommended), and scissors (also failed). Just as I was about to give up and call a vet, I googled dogs stepping in tar (seems like it should be a pretty common occurrence, only on roads instead of at a lake) and found the answer… vegetable oil. Vegetable oil will get tar off your dogs. It’s slow, but it works. And so now you know: if you ever find yourself in as terrible a situation as that, vegetable oil will save you.

Anyway, here’s a video of the nicer parts of that trip… before the nightmare began. And yes, the water really is that color. It’s not pollution, but salt-tolerant bacteria that thrives in that remote northern part of the lake.

Here are some neato photos from another trip to the Jetty. The water was much lower last year, and in my opinion, much more beautiful. Shallow water makes for an alien landscape. This year, it was about a foot deeper.

Reminder: After you hit play, please click where it says 480p in the bottom right and change it to 720 or 1080. HD is the only way to view it, man!

Reminder: After you hit play, do yourself a favor and click where it says 480p at the bottom of the player and change it to 720 or 1080. PLEASE! I’m embarrassed for it to be seen in anything but HD.

Also (and yes, I will probably say this every time), do yourself a favor and after you hit play, click where it says 480p at the bottom of the player and change it to 720 or 1080. Just trust me.

See, something happened on this trip and my feet stopped working. Not really sure what exactly did it, but it’s pretty safe to say that something in the combination of high and filthy water, miles of quicksand, and the heavy pack put super-strength stress on my kickers and totally raped my metatarsals. It began on day 3 (days 1 and 2 were pretty cool though, I will admit). By day 4, I basically couldn’t walk at all. However, when I took off my shoes, I could. It was weird, my shoes weren’t really fitting any differently, but something only felt right when I took them off. I proceeded to hike eight miles that day with no shoes on. That must have caused all sorts of its own problems, because now, three weeks later, I still can’t walk right. I have even gone to a podiatrist and everything. Of course, it hasn’t helped that the day after getting out of that blasted canyon, I had to pack up and move across the state. Then a couple days after that, I had to walk around Los Angeles for a week. Now I’m trying to stay off them, but it’s not really doing much. They are totally and completely wrecked. I’m sure I’m just being dramatic and they will heal sometime, but the idea of not being able to hike is really freaking me out. I’m getting married in four days and will embark on our epic honeymoon, and well, I’m afraid I won’t be able to walk for any of it! I know there are children dying in Africa, but my feet really hurt!

Okay fine, I get it, and I will shut the hell up now, but while you look at the few photos I took on this trip, I will sit here whining in my mind about how I hate that stupid canyon and its stupid, filthy water.

Unfortunately, the dream turned nightmare when I discovered my dogs completely covered in deer ticks after the hike, and by picking them off them, several were transferred to me. I didn’t even know we had ticks down here, but Lydia’s Canyon is much more reminiscent of Vermont than southern Utah desert. An emergency trip to the clinic remedied this problem (thank you, Frontline!) and all is well now. I even kind of want to go back now that the dogs are now guarded against ticks for a month…

I’ve started writing freelance for the Outdoors section at the St. George Spectrum, and my second article will be on none other than this hike (it’s quite awesome making a few extra bucks for doing hikes I do anyway)! So if you’re around these southern Utah parts, pick up Friday’s paper (this week or next, not sure yet). In writing these articles, I’ve been becoming increasingly fascinated with geology. It’s really amazing how this Utah landscape was formed! It’s also incredibly beneficial dating an archivist at the state government. Having access to fantastic historic books and records is, not surpisingly, much more than I think I would get at the Kanab library.

Anyway, I was itching to do something different with these photos, so here they are in some kitchy square fashion. Hey, gotta spice things up sometimes…

Pim and I have been together for over six months now, and we decided to get out and do something special this weekend. No, not going out for a nice dinner… heading out and summiting a bunch of mountains! Pim is your typical Utah hiking nerd in that he wants to summit the highest peak in each of the state’s 29 counties. We planned to hike a few mountains this weekend, but at the last minute, we made an impromptu plan to summit even more… the five highest peaks in six nearby counties (one peak is on the border between two counties). Of course, the dogs joined us, but it didn’t take long for me to realize maybe they shouldn’t have! It was a weekend of hilarious misadventures, but we ended up summiting three of our five intended peaks (blame crappy driving directions for missing out on the other two). And as annoyed as the dogs may have made me, we also created some great memories. One thing is for certain, my dogs got personality!

First up on our adventure was Andy Nelson Peak, elevation 10,027, which is not the highest point in Kane County, but it is the highest peak. We did the five-mile hike and it got our blood pumping for more. Unfortunately, at the end of the hike, my dogs became incredibly naughty and I have never been more mad at them. This put a bit of a damper on the next leg of the trip, exploring the wildflowers at Cedar Breaks, but by the end of our hike there (yes, they actually allow dogs on one beautiful, albeit short, trail) I had forgiven them and we were a happy family again. And yes, I am intentionally not telling you what they did and why I was so mad.

Just down the road, Brian Head Peak was calling our names. The road led us all the way up to the top, elevation 11,307 (hey, I didn’t say we had to hike to all of the peaks!). The evening sun was beautiful, and after a nice little break, we hit the road to try and find a campsite for the night. We headed down Parowan Canyon and turned onto a mysterious road which seemed promising. A sign warned that we’d probably be shot if we attempted to stop on the private property for the first 2.5 miles, but we figured some public land couldn’t be far past. But after those first 2.5 miles, another sign warned of someone else’s private property, and then again, and then again. Finally, we found about 10 feet worth of possibly public land, and set up camp next to a dilapidated, ancient school bus that had been abandoned on the mountain, rusting and full of bullet holes, surrounded by dozens of aspens carved with the initials of innumerable teenagers in love.

It wasn’t the greatest campsite in the world… we worried we might get yelled at, and there were sheep grazing on the private property about five feet to the east, but it was getting dark, we were tired, and there was a magic school bus. It would do just fine! The dogs went to sleep in their tent, and we went to sleep in ours… that is, until the critters came out. We still aren’t sure what it was, but something came stomping around in the middle of the night. Twigs broke with each step, and the dogs freaked out. Was it the sheep? Was it deer? Was it a bear? We may never know, but the dogs would not pipe down and had to come join us in our tent… something I thought we were done with. We all fell asleep and slept soundly until ATVs roared by at 5 am. Welcome to Utah!

We broke camp early and headed north to the Tushar Mountains. There was a wildfire nearby, so first we had to make sure we’d be safe. All was clear, and Delano Peak loomed even higher than the smoke. I first hiked Delano, elevation 12,173, almost two years ago to the day. I had met a dog named Haley and took her home for a trial period. Before I could sign the adoption papers, I had to make sure she could hike. She obviously passed the test, because she was along for the adventure this time around too. The dogs were amazingly well-behaved on this hike, and I couldn’t have been happier!

Next up we headed east to Fish Lake, where we were maaaaybe going to summit Fish Lake Hightop. We re-read the directions that we had quickly printed off before leaving and weren’t sure my car would make it. When we got over there, we couldn’t even find the right road, so we abandoned ship and looked around for a campsite instead. It took a long time to find a decent spot up some side canyon, but eventually we did and it seemed like a beautiful night was awaiting us. Then…. drunken teenagers blast their music. Then… ATV’ers attempt to drive up our path. Then… gunshots. Then… stark raving mad mutant cows who were apparently birthing babies all night long (at least it sounded like it). Then… a chorus of coyotes laughing maniacally. Then… the dogs freak out again and have to come back in the tent. Another wonderful night’s sleep!

Ready to get home, and back to a nice quiet bed, we again broke camp early and headed out. Our last summit, if we got there, would be Bluebell Knoll on top of Boulder Mountain (elevation 11,327). Our printed directions had actually cut off all the directions, so unless there was some sort of signage, we would have to abandon this peak as well…. which we did. We ended up driving straight over Boulder Mountain to Hell’s Backbone Grill for a gourmet breakfast before heading home.

While waiting for the food, I see a dog in the corner of my eye. Automatically tuning my attention to the cute dog, I realized it was actually Jemma. She had managed to escape the car, despite the windows not being open far enough for her chubby body to fit through (or so I thought). I went out to get her, and when I called her name, a soaking wet dog emerged from the pond next to the patio, where a dozen people watched her skinny dip. I laughed, almost uncontrollably. Back she went into the car (fully wet, thanks Jemma!) and I rolled up the windows a little bit more, and headed back to eat my scrumptious meal. But within 15 minutes, she got out again. THREE INCHES! IT WAS ONLY OPEN THREE INCHES! She’s magic, that one. I had to close the windows almost entirely (don’t worry, it was not hot out), and when I finished my meal, she was still in the car. Of course, it wasn’t until about five minutes later that I realized she was actually quite sick and was most likely escaping the car to try to relieve herself (she proceeded to have a lot of diarrhea and puked rocks and other non-goodies… don’t worry, it passed and she’s fine now).

We got home and lazed around for the next day, doing nothing but relaxing, cleaning house, and having our own little Earth 2 marathon. Nothing beats crappy 90′s sci-fi! Pim left this morning, but in two weeks we depart on our next epic trip… California and Oregon!