A Short Story

I don't consider myself a writer, but I have always thought that it would be cool to put together a series of short stories. Here is a little something that I wrote. It is fiction with little bits of reality peppered in.

“Keep is down back there,” Billy told Jake as they approached a huge ponderosa pine.

It was close to 6 am and the two had just come two and a half miles from camp to what Jake could only hope would be a successful tree stand. He tried to catch his breath, and obey the command of the guide, but keeping up with a man that spends the better part of the year out in the wilderness isn’t easy.

The fall in New Mexico is different for Jake then back home in New Jersey. One day it is 80 degrees outside and you can’t keep from sweating and the next you wake up to a flurry of snow on the ground. This morning, however, was calm. Almost eerily silent. The trek to this water hole was at a mind numbing pace through the high grass. The fog was so thick that Jake wouldn’t have been able to see much even if even if there was light. Just more motivation for to keep up with Billy. You wouldn’t want to get lost in these parts. No one deserves that kind of end.

He finally caught up feeling like he could breathe without wheezing and got next to the tree that Billy knelt by.

“I want you to climb up in this stand and be really still. Be patient and you will see a real Gila Wilderness giant,” he told me as I crouched down next to him. “I’ll be up on that knob over there glassing for a bit,” he said pointing into the grayish hue of the morning fog. Jake nodded his head having no idea where he was talking about. Finally before leaving he said, “If nothing comes in by 11, I’ll be back and we’ll try finding somethin’ over in hell’s canyon.” With that he was gone.

The sound of hell’s canyon wasn’t appealing to Jake. They had already covered some pretty rough country which would seem like hell to anyone not born with the mountain goat stature that his guide had. Jake was determined to listen to his instructions, being very still in wait for his trophy.

Jake had the opportunity to hunt out of a tree stand once before. He hoped his experience would help him this time around. He lashed his bow to the rope that was hanging over the edge of the seat twenty feet above his head, and started his climb on up.

The first light touched the dew saturated pine needles about a half hour later. This was going to be an exciting morning. The toughest part of hunting in a tree stand is boredom. The human mind can put up with the cold and sitting still usually isn’t all that tough, but keeping your mind active enough to not fall asleep can be a challenge. In the last little bit Jakes mind had gone through all the steps to drawing his bow silently, holding his 30 yard pin two inches high on the vitals, and squeezing the release. But his mind also thought about how the Yankees would pull through and win the divisional series with the Twins. Anything to keep his mind occupied. But now it would be a short bit and the sun would be up burning off the fog and he would be able to enjoy another beautiful New Mexico morning.

He glanced at his watch and it said 7:08. The sun now had burned through and was shining off the muddy water of the tank below his stand. He pulled out his rangefinder to take a couple of readings. Twenty-two yards to that bush. Sixty-eight yards to the far side of the tank. Seventeen to the near side. Now all that is left is the wait. After all, no one had ever accused Billy of being a liar.

It seriously couldn’t have been fifteen minutes, six squirrels, a covey of fool’s quail, and one pesky porcupine later when the silence was broken and Jake heard the first crack of a branch. Through the cut in the bush a hundred yards east of the tank something big was about to make an appearance. Jake couldn’t have known what it was; only that it was bigger and noisier than a Volkswagen beetle. Then appeared the dirty blonde rump, seven actually to be exact, of a of cow elk. Not quite what he was hoping for, but this couldn’t be a bad sign. He sat very still.

As the last cow took a drink and headed straight away from the stand, something caught Jake’s eye. Standing halfway between the cut in the brush and the tank was the majestic monster he had waited his whole life to see.

The behemoth watched the last of the cows disappear down into the draw to the south and he took his turn at the water hole. Only, he wasn’t there for a drink. It resembled more a French mud bath, only without the scented oils. He was in full rut just getting ready to take over that heard of cows. This bull was so rank that Jake could smell him up in the tree. He then moved to the edge of the water, almost as if he was listening to the commands Jake was giving in his head, to stand a mere twenty-four yards away.

Jake drew back his bow without the slightest tweak of a muscle, and held the twenty yard pin right on the kill zone. Hours of practice in the back yard were about to pay off. Endless nights imagining this very moment were about to come to fruition.

Little Sahara

It is not big news to anyone in the intermountain west that Utah is home to some great outdoor sites. From overnight camping sites to week long back country excursions, you can find it all over the state. I have been in the area for nearly four years and I am still discovering for myself the truth of that statement.

My most recent self discovery was Little Sahara Recreation Area in central Utah. What was once the sandy bottom of Lake Bonneville now is a favorite site for thrill seekers on two or four wheels. Hold on though, these dunes are not only for the well invested in all terrain vehicles. With developed camp sites including picnic tables, fire rings, and modern plumbing (yes, running water) it is a great place for that over night camp.

I made my trip down with a group of friends from school and unfortunately we didn't have the motored beast that we could hear all around us. We were still able to find fun in running in the silky-soft sand bare-foot while throwing a football or Frisbee.

I would recommend this spot to anyone with a dirt bike, four-wheeler, or dune buggy, but also to anyone that just wants to get away for the weekend and see a different take on the beauty that Utah's natural features have to offer.

Bowfishing Caballo

As a hunter, there are lulls in the season during which there is not much to do. This happens typically during the late spring and throughout the summer. This is a time when all forms of wildlife are bringing new young into the world, the big herds come down to lower ground to eat the new growth in the low valleys and meadows, and the hunting seasons are put on hold. Usually during this time the outdoorsman turns to large lakes and fresh streams to pursue that elusive Largemouth bass and German Brown trout. It is no different for me.

It was a couple of years ago that I was introduced to a different kind of off season “hunt.” Patrick Meitin, an outdoor writer and family friend, took my brother an I out on Caballo Lake in southern NM for a little bow fishing. I had heard of bowfishing before, but this would be the first time out for me.

If you already have a recurve bow, you can set yourself up with a bowfishing rig for about $60-$80. Lucky for us when we hunt with Pat have the gear and experience on our side. Ty and I have experience with a bow, so the only instruction we got was, “Aim below where you see the target.”

So with that we headed into the shallow waters on the north end of the lake. We started out on a flat bottom boat, to more quietly sneak up on the groups of fish, and ended the day wading the narrow channels on the far end of the lake.

Pat was right, aim a little low, and after a few shots we were ready for hours of action. We ended up shooting quite a few fish that day with Pat bringing in the biggest. On a few occasions we were lucky and hit two with one shot. This now is one of my favorite off season hunting activities.

Nuevo México

There are certain times in life, and sometimes you don't realize it in the moment, that you are experiencing something that you may never again experience. Looking back on this last weekend, I feel that I had one of those experience.

I had the opportunity to travel to New Mexico with my good friends Dan and Mike. We have had some pretty awesome experiences this summer, and this trip wouldn't disappoint either. In fact, apart from the 12 hour drive to Mimbres, the trip was just fun all around.

There was some serious preparation that went into this trip. First off, we had to book the trip in advance with Billy at Mimbres Taxidermy and Guide Service. Lucky for me, he is my dad and finding an open weekend for us wasn't too hard. Secondly, we had to grow mustaches. A mustache may come free, but it was the most expensive part of the trip. We all suffered the ridicule and weird looks for a few weeks just to enjoy one weekend on the back of a horse in the woods as real men.


And as real men we were woken up by my dad at 6:30 am on Friday morning and had the opportunity to unload four tons of oat hay, shuttle the horses around for the pasture, and saddle the seven we were taking along. We finally hit the trail around 2 in the afternoon.



I was anxious to get my lure in the water. It had been years since I have fished on the Gila river, and I was really hoping that it was as good as I remembered. That first afternoon we fished the holes close to camp before dinner, and caught quite a few fish between us all. Of course my dad caught the biggest one. The only good thing about him catching a big one so early on in the trip meant that he would go back to camp and feed the horses and make dinner, giving us a chance to catch some fish.







We were blessed to have rain every evening of the trip. It rained (and haled) just enough to break the New Mexico heat and give us the energy to keep having fun.




We found, actually my dad showed us, an Indian ruin on a ridge above the river. We found a few arrow heads, some pottery and a view to die for. It is obvious why the Mimbreno Indians chose this spot to camp, or live, or whatever they used the site for.




The second day fishing was just as good as the first. Dan was proud to have caught the biggest brown trout. We all had a lot of luck and we even decided to keep a couple to eat for dinner. We convinced Dan that most people eat the fried tails, and of course he ate the one on his fish. I guess they don't taste as bad as you would imagine.



We made it back to the truck in the early afternoon on Sunday with enough time to get home and recuperate. We didn't have any problems with the horses, the dogs stuck around, caught a tone of fish, and I even saw a black bear about fifty yards away. I would say it was a good trip. One for the ages.





I want to dedicate this post to Gus. Gus is my hound dog that I picked out of a litter of puppies about fourteen or fifteen years ago. He has been a great dog throughout the years and brought great memories. This was probably his last trip out with us as he is getting a little old to run with the young dogs. Thanks Gus.

It Runs in the Family

I have sometimes wondered, and maybe you have too, what drives a person to crave the outdoors. There are many plausible answers. Maybe it is because you get tired of your cubicle world, or maybe you just like the fresh air the mountains bring. I have always felt it was in my blood. Let me tell you why.

First, let me point out that I come from a long line of outdoorsmen. My granddad was a cowboy by trade, roaming the mountains on horseback chasing cows. In the fall he would take paying hunters into the same mountains after trophy deer. I never did get to meet him, but I have seen pictures and even a silent film of his hunting camp. One heck of an outdoorsman.

My dad is the best hunter that I have ever met. He’s not so bad with a rod and reel in his hand either. The first memory I have of the outdoors, a picture my mom showed me more than a memory, was a muzzle loader deer hunt. I couldn’t have been six months old in a baby carrier on my dad’s back. He has run a very successful guide service for quite a few years now.

My mom also loves the outdoors. She taught me to love more than the chase, but to really appreciate the other aspects of nature. If you want to know what kind of plant you are looking at, or how a rock formation was made, she is the one to ask.

My brother and sister are both very outdoorsy. Ty asked me one time how I can stand to live in the city for so long, referring to Provo. It’s hard to explain to someone who has lived in Mimbres his whole life that Provo is not that big of a city and that the outdoors are close.

And now I am proud to say that my niece and nephew are keeping the family tradition alive. I just got news that they won some trophies at a junior fishing tournament. Cam is only five and he won’t let you help him rig his line. I know that Mara will be the same when she gets older. I know they get it from their dad and mom, the way it should be.

I guess that is the answer to my question. I love the outdoors because those around me do. I hope that we can enjoy the great outdoors for generations to come.

Zion National Park

Zion National Park is a 229 square mile park in southern Utah near Cedar City. The park offers some of the most amazing sights available to anyone not interested in leaving the comfort of the front seat of the car. The natural phenomena are even more amazing, however, if you get out and hike one of the many trails that cut through the red sandstone mountains of the park. Recently we made our way down south to see exactly what Zion had to offer. We first tested the waters (very cold) of The Subway and later the more technical Keyhole and Pine Creek Canyons. Here is what we found out.

The Subway

The Subway is a 12 mile long slot canyon hike that is one of the most popular of the park. It starts with a two mile decent from the trail head to the main canyon. If this is your first trip to Zion National park, as it was for me, you will find the views of the red sandstone bluffs and slick rock valleys amazing. Just wait until you make it down into the canyon. I can only imagine the forces at work as water carved the wild shapes into the rock.

To do this hike we needed wet suits, about 40 feet of rope, and a lot of energy. Most of the drops in the canyon can be done with very simple down climbing techniques, while some require using the placed bolt anchors to rappel. We also brought along our harnesses and rappelling equipment, but didn’t really need it. You would be fine to just plan on using the rope as a down climbing aid rather than a rappel line.

The wet suits really came in handy. There was a fair amount of water in the bottom of the canyon, and in places swimming was required. With the canyon being so slotted and deep, not allowing more than a few minutes of sun each day to reach the bottom, coupled with the water being spring runoff from the previous winter’s snow made the water very cold. In fact I would say it was the coldest water that I have ever swam in. I was glad that we had the suits.

Once you finish the slotted portion of the canyon you have a few more miles of creek to wade through before the accent back up to the lower trail head. For some this was the not the most desirable part of the trip. It did seem to drag on a bit, but that is just the price you pay to see some of the most amazing formations that nature has to offer.

Keyhole Canyon

Keyhole Canyon is a much shorter hike, but in its own way much more challenging. This three-quarters of a mile hike took us more than two hours to complete. You start by making your way up a hundred yards of slick rock and instantly realize why they call them slot canyons. Keyhole is much narrower than The Subway.

This time around we had our wetsuits and also our full rappelling gear. There are a couple of 30 foot rappels that require some previous experience rappelling and good equipment that is rated for this kind of use. With the depth and narrowness of keyhole comes some of the coldest water in the park. There was only one part where the water was over our heads and we had to swim, but there were several waist and chest deep wades that made the $20 wetsuit rental worth it.

The best part of this hike was that the awesome sights never really ended until before we knew it we were back at the truck without any gruesome accent to the road. We were all amazed at what we had just witnessed and excited for what was to come later that day.

Pine Creek

Pine Creek could be described as a hybrid of The Subway and Keyhole Canyon. The slot offered some of the most amazing formations, but the length and difficulty of the hike made it necessary to have a little canyoneering experience. Lucky for me I had two and a half ours experience gained earlier that day at Keyhole. I was ready to go.

With cold water and great views I was hoping that Pine Creek had something more to offer that we hadn’t already seen that day. My wish was answered with some great rappelling. With several of the drops in the canyon being significantly higher then in the previous canyons, a 60 meter rope is a must. We must have done more than a half dozen rappels over 20 feet high with the biggest thrills being the 60 foot rappel and the 100 foot free rappel.

The sixty foot rappel came pretty early in the hike. The point of view as you drop down in to the belly of the canyon is one that is unique to this hike. As I was coming down I just had to wonder how many thousands of years and millions of gallons of water it took to create this natural master piece.

The oohs and awes did not stop from that point on until the final rappel. Toward the end of the canyon, and as it opened up a little more, the canyon bottom was littered with boulders that size of small houses that required a lot of down climbing and boulder hopping. We all knew that there was a big rappel at the end, and the anticipation was getting to me. Finally we made it to the drop off point.

I knew this was the “big one” when I look over the edge and my heart tried to escape through my chest. As I threaded the rope through the ring anchors at the edge, I could tell that the rope didn’t touch the face of the rock the entire way down. Some in the group had some questions about the sanity of anyone that would voluntarily go down a 10 millimeter rope to the base of the canyon 100 feet below, but at this point there was no option of returning.

We were rewarded on our way out with a small pool of water just deep enough surrounded by boulders just high enough to jump off of. We were refreshed and ready for the steep hike back up to the road. We all made is safely back to the truck exhausted but ready for the next best thing that Zion could throw at us.

I was not disappointed by the big rappel at the end of Pine Creek or a single moment that I spent in Zion National Park this summer. I hope to make it back again soon as well as some of the other natural wonders that Southern Utah has to offer.

Photos courtesy of Mike Knippers, Daniel Nelson, and Justin Lee

Cruising the Canyon

There are many ways to get outdoors these days. In my younger years one of my favorite activities was to ride the back roads of Mimbres on my 1983 Kawasaki Km 80. After I outgrew that bike and let other priorities take place in my life, I never got another motorcycle. Well now I can relive my childhood again. I recently became the proud owner of a 2008 Honda Rebel CMX250C. I know what you are thinking, and you are right. It isn’t the hog that you would expect a 24 year old college student to go out and buy. But this is just enough bike to get me around and still feel like I am not riding a scooter. I really got it to save on gas money and for better parking on campus, but there is also recreational value to having a motorcycle.

With only 40 miles on the odometer I decided that I would take it for a ride up Provo Canyon. I have always seen bikers cruising up and down the canyon roads and had looked forward to doing it someday. So on this lazy Sunday afternoon I took a spin up to Squaw Peak lookout. It was everything that I had hoped for. For such a small bike it handles well both at higher speeds on the main canyon road, and on the windier Squaw Peak Road it took the curves with ease. I wouldn’t recommend going over 75 mph especially with windy conditions because of the weight of the bike, but for casual cruising and great gas mileage, this is about as good as it gets.

As a side note: If you are going to ride, wear a helmet. Just because you see everyone else on the road riding without one on, doesn't make safe. Your life is worth always strapping on a good quality helmet.