Thru-Hiking the CDT for Underserved KidsRate this story: 5 Votes so farEnrique Gili//August 3, 2017A Q&A with the man who’s completing the 3,100-mile trail to help get more young people outsideOn April 28, Michael Hervey began his quest to complete the Continental Divide Trail (CDT) in a single season. As of July, he was done marching through the last of the 14ers in Colorado and well into Wyoming.The trip will take him from the badlands of New Mexico to the Canadian border, covering 3,100 miles on the highest and most remote of the National Scenic Trails. He won’t be alone. In the spring, about 200 hikers set out from the desert in an attempt to reach the Canadian border before winter arrives. And if he succeeds, he’ll join a hardy group of several dozen hikers to complete one of the most challenging long-distance trails in the United States this year.
Biting gnats are parasitic organisms similar to mosquitoes and are capable of very annoying bites. However, while mosquitoes pierce the skin and feed with mouthparts similar to a hy- podermic needle, biting gnats have scissor-like mandibles that cut the skin to produce a small, bleeding wound. In the process of biting, saliva penetrates the skin causing an allergic reaction. This reaction is minor in most people, though it can be severe in rare cases.
Source: gnats.indd – Gnats.pdf
When Carolyn Shelton began working at southern Utah’s Grand Staircase-Escalante National Monument in 2001, she expected to leave it in better shape for the next generation. Fifteen years later, in spring 2016, her old friend Mary O’Brien, a local biologist, invited her over for dinner to celebrate her upcoming retirement. Shelton’s eyes welled with tears at the thought of leaving. She had risen in the ranks — she was an assistant manager, the third most powerful person at the monument — but had not accomplished what she’d wanted, had not protected the land as she’d intended. “Mary, I tried,” she told her friend. “I tried and I failed.” Perhaps she was being too hard on herself. The forces arrayed against conservation in southern Utah were deeply rooted. County commissioners, state elected officials, the entire Utah congressional delegation — all were against the monument from the moment of its creation in 1996. They considered it a usurpation of local power, and they had acted at every chance to attack its legitimacy. Even the agency tasked with managing it — Shelton’s employer, the local field office of the Bureau of Land Management — sometimes seemed to conspire against its success. Shelton often felt her own colleagues were “moles” bent on undermining the mission. The Department of the Interior, which oversees the BLM, and Congress, which funds Interior, had not helped. By 2016, the budget for Grand Staircase had dropped to $4 million from $16 million in 2001. Three-quarters of the staff had been eliminated or driven out by political pressures. “Today, this monument office struggles to do the basic job,” Shelton told me recently. “We don’t have adequate funding, we don’t have adequate staff.”
Last week, I decided to take a couple of days and visit White Sands National Monument. I’ve lived in New Mexico for almost three years and decided it was time. There is no excuse not to take advantage of a National Monument or Park when it’s in your backyard.
From what I’d read and heard, WSNM is a spectacular location for exploring and stargazing. During the day, the dunes are beautiful – stark white, with very little relief as far as color or texture go. There is sparse vegetation, mostly consisting of salt-loving shrubs growing in the low areas between the dunes. The occasional yucca manages to find a foothold, even on the dune tops. At night, there is very little light pollution, making for perfect stargazing conditions.
I opted for a “backpacking” trip – hiking into one of the ten available back-country sites. My plan was to go in a bit after mid-day, set up my campsite, explore a bit and relax under my shade/tarp until evening.
Permits are issued on a first come, first served basis. You must walk in to get one. There are also days when you can’t hike or camp: the missile test range is next door, and if they are testing, there’s no hiking or camping. Call ahead.
I drove down to the visitor’s center, walked in at 11:00 am, and had my choice of campsites. From there I drove to the trailhead parking lot, located the start of the dune-field trail, and began my hike in. So far, so good. The backcountry area is actually quite small. The trail is a 4-mile loop, with the 10 campsites branching off of it like spokes on a wheel. Each site is situated in the bottom of a low-lying flat area, behind a sand dune. There is no camping allowed on the dunes themselves. You’d think these low areas would be ideal locations for camping… One suggestion: if you are using a tent that requires staking out, bring tent stakes and a hammer. There are no rocks naturally occurring in the dune field and the gypsum hardpan is basically cement. Pushing in the tent stake will only result in a bruised palm and a very weak stake placement. I learned this lesson the hard way.
After setting up my tent and tarp/shade, as securely as possible, I did some exploring. The Monument website recommends taking a fully charged cell phone, map, compass, and GPS. They also state that often-times GPS coverage is iffy, and your phone likely won’t work. Best to brush up on your map and compass skills. I can see how easily it would be to become lost in the dunes. The wind quickly erases your tracks, and the landscape is starkly white and barren. In bright light, the terrain appears to flatten out and you can become disoriented. The backcountry camping area has Carsonite posts marking the trail, these are set on high areas, making it easier to keep track of your location. The other areas in the monument are not as well marked, so hikers be aware.
After lunch, I took advantage of my shade, listened to a lecture on Greek Mythology and napped. It’s a great place to just hang out. I didn’t have any bugs, no crowds of people, and only one military drone. There are a lot of jet fly-overs, as the monument is located adjacent to an Air Force base, but I knew this going in. The jets were nothing compared to the wind that came on around 5:00 pm.
I’d been checking the weather for a few days leading up to my trip, trying to average out the forecasts from NOAA, the Weather Channel, and AccuWeather. NONE of them predicted tent-flattening, tarp-flying, sand-blasting microbursts. If I’d had some sort of hammer-like device, I might’ve been okay, but without one I could not reset any of my tent stakes. I packed up my tent and tarp, and in the process discovered that my sleeping bag was full of gypsum. I packed that up too. After sitting in a ball for 30 minutes, waiting to see what happened, I came to the conclusion that setting up a stove and preparing dinner in this was not going to happen. Of course, that is when I decided that I was getting hungry. At around 5:30 I stood up and took a look around. A small wall of dust was building and heading my way, reminiscent of the 1930’s dust bowl photos my grandparents used to show me. Enough. I packed the rest of my stuff, put my shoes back on (you can run around barefoot as much as you want – no cactus) and hiked back to the car.
As I was heading out, I passed several people hiking into their sites. They looked about as excited for the wind as I was. I now know how I’ll approach this when I go back. Yes, despite my failed attempt, I am going to try again. The place is just too amazing not to. First: go in early to get your campsite, then go do something else until late afternoon. Take a tent peg hammer. Don’t hike in too early – it’s hot in the sun; there is no water, so you must carry it in; the wind will pick up in the early evening, making it difficult to prepare dinner. You can minimize your exposure by going in later, after you’ve had dinner, for example. Or, go in the Fall, when the wind isn’t such a problem.
Backcountry permits cost $3, the landscape is surreal, and the light reflecting off the gypsum is brilliant! Take a good pair of sunglasses, some sunscreen, and a wide-brimmed hat. You can also buy a sled at the visitor’s center – the kids playing in the parking lot dunes seemed to enjoy them.
The advantages of isobutane canister stove fuel makes it extremely popular in the backcountry: clean burning, no spills, and ease of use. The major drawbacks of canister fuel revolve around the inability to transfer fuel between canisters, resulting in partially used canisters piling up, and forcing us to carry multiple partially used canisters to avoid wasting fuel. On top of that, we often end up paying more per unit of fuel, as the cost is disproportionally higher in smaller canisters.
Trump aims attack at national monuments: 20 at risk President Trump is ordering a “review” of about half of all national monuments designated since the beginning of 1996, a sweeping action that is intended to shrink boundaries and reduce protections. The executive order will put more than 20 national monuments in the crosshairs, ranging from rare wildlife habitat to Native American archaeological ruins, stretching from Maine to California to Pacific islands. Photo: California Coastal National Monument. C
President Trump is expected to sign an executive order Wednesday that could end up shrinking — or even nullifying — some large federal national monuments on protected public lands, as established since the Clinton administration.The move is largely seen as a response by the new administration to two controversial, sweeping national monument designations made late in the Obama administration: the new Bears Ears National Monument in Utah considered sacred to Native American tribes and the Gold Butte National Monument in Nevada near the Bundy Ranch, site of the 2014 armed standoff over cattle grazing on public land.
There is nothing to see but the cracked yellow earth, wiry bunch grass, and saltbush. Nothing, that is, until a practiced eye begins spotting a scattering of tiny black and red potsherds. Their presence here, 16 miles north of Chaco Culture National Historical Park, along with their linear arrangement, as if they were used to mark a road, are part of a chain of clues that have been leading archaeologists farther and farther away from Chaco in their efforts to explain what Chaco was.
The great outdoors is all over social media. On Instagram, the hashtag #nature has been used more than 20 million times. Attach a geotag to your photo of last weekend’s campsite, and your followers can tramp to the exact same spot. Some nature lovers worry about the downside to this: Is Instagram funneling hordes of people to places that can’t handle this crush of admirers? Are those filtered, perfectly tinted pics sending a message that people can always go where they want, when they want, and how they wa
Great essay in The High Country News. I am not giving up. An experience I recently had in the Grand Canyon gives me hope. I took an extra layover day, at Indian Gardens, during my Tonto Tour in March. I wanted a rest day to just relax, eat, borrow a book from the little “library” there and enjoy being in the canyon. A young family was camping in the space next to me – three young kids and their parents. No iPads, iPods, Gameboys, whining, complaining, boredom. Those kids were having the time of their lives and clearly enjoyed backpacking. I hope their parents continue immersing them in wilderness-time. Those kids are our hope for the future of wild places.
The adrenalized relationship with the natural world is also an experience of human conquest – the peak-bagger’s pathology. Ironically, it’s not much different from the benighted mindset of corporate accountancy: How many cliffs base-jumped? How many extreme trails conquered? Faster, more. And always the adrenalin payoff Casimiro perceives – not dissimilar to the monetary payoff chased by capitalists.