Storm Chasers

Rialto Beach 10/17/07

The forecast said winds, high winds, would be whipping through our area bringing with it the media hype only an early winter storm can bring. Ready for a little wind and wave action, Michael & I played hooky from work to head to the beach for the afternoon . . . the day BEFORE the storm was to hit. Poor timing wasn't all too bad for us.

After driving through the pouring rain around the north end of the peninsula, we made the decision to head to Rialto Beach near forks. The sea stacks there might lend themselves to some interesting pictures, if the weather held out. By the time we made it to Forks, the rain had lessened and was now coming in short showers between sun breaks.

The beach proved to be wonderful, with waves crashing on the shore - not as strongly as they would the following day - and blue sky overhead. Dark heavy clouds grew to the north of us and to the south. Waves blew sea foam into the tumble of driftwood as we made our way through the logs trying to avoid the waves and foam and the occasional squall. Looking back toward the east, a rainbow arched across the Quilleutte River. Clouds stretched from the storm clouds over the waves and sea stacks, across the blue sky.

We stayed until the sun set first turning the air golden then back to normal, as it lowered behind the clouds building on the horizon. Harbingers of the storm to come?

Hickman Bridge

3/25/07

My first hike on my little adventure went to Hickman Bridge in Capitol Reef. It's a short 2-mile round trip hike under a natural arch that took me two hours to complete. Hey! Leave me alone - I was playing snap-happy tourist. I started out on the trail at about 11 and figured I could easily run through these 2 miles then head up the road to hike the Chimney Rock trail. But playing tourist can take time and I wanted to see all that I could.

After grabbing the trail guide near the parking lot, I climbed slowly away from the Fremont River and soon stood atop the cliffs of Capitol Reef. The shimmering white stone of Capitol Dome filled my view eastward, the Fremont River valley stretched out to the west. From here I traveled through wash and desert, over and around slickrock. Up in the cliff, the trail guide pointed out, was a granary built by the Fremont people who had inhabited the valley centuries past. I got as close as I dared, without disturbing the site, but close enough still to peer inside. It was, of course, empty. Still I tried to imagine what it might have been like at the height of Fremont civilization when the granary was stocked and ready for leaner days.

I soon came upon Hickman Bridge: 125 feet high with a span of 133 feet. The first arch I had ever seen was when I was a child at Rialto Beach in Washington. My parents had taken my sister & I out to Hole-in-the-Wall, which had been carved out by centuries of waves. But Hole-in-the-Wall had nothing on Hickman. I sat below the arching span for a snack and listen to the sounds of the desert. A breeze wafted by, carrying with it the sounds of a family exploring the desert in their own way. A chipmunk scuttled by in search of crumbs, eyeing me suspiciously - or was that hopefully?

I later worked my way to an overlook that gave my a wondrous view of the Fremont Valley, the orchards lining the river's banks, and the plateau on the other side. It was difficult for me to go, but I promised myself that next year I would return here; explore this country and sit for as long as I wanted to listen to the wind - or listen to nothing at all.