September Skies

Hey, September skies, what's with all the drama?

These two photos were taken within seconds of each other. The top one looks south; the bottom one, at the setting sun in the west.

September reigns...

Suddenly,  September arrives
With the fanfare of zigzag lightening
And drum-rolling thunder.
Galloping up from the south,
September reigns over high desert plains.

September shouts,"I'm no romantic August moon; 
I'm no leaf-fluttering summer breeze, no clear-sky Milky Way!"
September is the harvester, riding in on a thundering steed, 
Hooves throwing up rolling plumes of dust,
Reigning over high desert plains.

September supposes that flames in the timber are surprised. 
Determined they won't forget her, she plays the hero,
Pulling heavy-laden stagecoach clouds over mountain passes, 
and September rains over flame-licked moraine.

September is sister to the Sea,
sometimes choosing to reign calamity.
She suggests you give up,
Hand over your gold.  

Simply to make the encounter memorable, 
September rains. . .  unbridled. . . over high desert plains.
               

A visit to a bead shop

I got to pop in to a very cool bead shop yesterday. 

I found some pink beads that I can use on my second pink beaded wristlet.  I'm going out on a limb...the wristlets are not going to be an exact match!  Half the beads I need are going to be the pink mix that will match, but then I'm going to string on the darker pink beads I bought. This is all about experimentation and a demonstration on what not to do! LOL!

I also found some beads for a bracelet.  I just loved the orange color. 

OK, I also found some green beads...and they will go on something for the holiday season...

Pink Beaded Wristlets

The Labor Day weekend activities put a stall on my knitting...but I'm back at it and have completed one wristlet.  This is a different pattern, which called for a provisional cast-on.  So, I used the only one I was familiar with: the crocheted chain.  Also, in preparation for this piece, I threaded 518 beads on the yarn!  This pattern requires 100 more beads per wristlet than the other pattern! Whew!

I chose multi-colored pinks for the beads.  Big mistake.  They blend in too much, and without the defined contrast, the beaded pattern does not stand out!!  Dang. This is a pretty pattern, but you really can't see it.  Oh well, this will be an experimental pair, and the beads will be a subtle hint of glitz.

To finish up this wristlet, the instructions called for a 3 needle bind-off.  I did it.  But I'm not in love with it. 

The seam, using the 3-needle bind-off is pretty obvious.

The other pair I made (in black and grey with silver beads) used the kitchener stitch to connect the sides, and I like it much better.  So, I'm discovering some things.

Now to thread more beads for the second wristlet...

Labor Day Weekend, Day Three

After a relaxing breakfast of bacon, eggs, muffins, juice, and coffee, we loaded into the pickup for day three of riding mountain ATV trails. This time we headed toward Dubois, took the East Fork road, and parked at the base area of Indian Ridge.  More campers than I had ever seen were parked in this general vicinity. 

We made this trip last year; it's one of my favorite rides.  The trail is challenging, and pretty rough in places, but when you compare it to the Shoshone Lake Trail...it's a piece of cake. LOL!

The trail climbs the ridge, gaining in elevation right away.  Because of the forest fire in the Burrough Creek area, I was wondering if we would be swallowed in a cloud of smoke and possibly not even make the trek to the end of the trail.  Amazingly enough, a slight breeze was carrying the smoke to the west...yes, really...the west.  So, the skies were good, and as we were riding on a ridge to the north of the fire area, we weren't even smelling the smoke.  We stopped at some very good vantage points to watch as plumes of smoke rose from the valley.

From on top of Indian Ridge there are some beautiful views in every direction.

On a rugged rock outcropping, Allen found some evidence of coral from the days (millions of years ago) when all this area (near 10,000 ft.) was under water.  Amazing.

All in all, a great a day riding and exploring!! 

So, that's it till next year, when we rendezvous for another mountain marathon.

Labor Day Weekend, Day Two

Have you ridden into Shoshone Lake (above Lander in the Wind River Range)?  If you answer "yes," people like me are really impressed: the eyes get big, the mouth drops slightly, you say "OMG," and something emotional wells upside. And that's because I've personally ridden to the top of Cyclone Pass where one can see the lake tucked into the valley and have heard the stories of those who have gone the final 2-3 miles to the lake.  As one ol' weathered guy we met on the trail stated, "It's not for the faint of heart!"

My brother had a pretty deep desire to make this trip (at least to Cyclone Pass) last year, but it didn't work out.  But THIS YEAR I promised I'd take him and Allen in, although I had warned them that it was a really rough trail. That being said, let me also state that I "get it," that "really rough" is relative, and my brother wanted to see it for himself, as he felt pretty confident that he and Allen could make it in more easily with the motorcycles because they could go around rocks easier than my wide 4-wheeler, which has to negotiate all four wheels over the terrain.  So, let's just say that no matter what I said, he wasn't really trusting my judgement.  OK.  Then, let's go.  At least I had been there once, knew what was ahead, and I was willing to do it again.

 Day Two: Cyclone Pass

So after unloading the machines, I started leading the guys up the trail.  The first few miles takes us to Mexican Pass, and the trail starts to get pretty rocky and rough at this point.  When we stopped here to regroup, Allen said, "This is pretty rough riding through here." 

All I could do is nod yes, and add, "You haven't seen anything yet."

Shortly after that, we got to the beginning of a two mile section they call the Chutes.  Now, the trail gets rough.  I saw this sign as we turned uphill to the left to enter this section of the trail and HAD TO TAKE A PICTURE of his sign, because I totally understood why someone added those two words at the bottom.

The Chutes is a river bed coming down the mountain that is filled with boulders.   And because the snow melt comes down this chute every spring, it washes out all the dirt that might collect between the boulders.  So some of this is loose and squirrely to navigate.

The guys were having more and more difficulty finding dirt to drive on, and negotiating through loose rock and deep crevises was getting increasingly dangerous.

They fought it as long as they could; but when Allen's cycle hit a rock that slipped and sent his wheel another direction and fell over to the left,  throwing him down on the bank, he was  reconsidering going any further.  Besides, they had to ride back down this ugly section as it was.  Dennis had to agree.  We had only gone about halfway up the Chutes.  It was not worth damaging their bikes or getting hurt.  Both guys voted to bail...so they could at least be assured they could have another day of riding tomorrow.


We didn't know exactly how much further it was to the top.  So, I suggested that I scout it out, taking my 4-wheeler up a ways, as I'd have to find a place to turn around anyway.  They agreed.

I made a point to check the odometer.  And off I went.  Two-tenths of a mile...a half mile...and the trail got even worse.  So, I already knew the guys would not be going up any further. At this point I decided I was going all the way to the top, if for no other reason, I really didn't want to come this far and not see the view from the pass.  Seven-tenths of a mile... one mile...oh, and here I met three young guys on two 4-wheelers; they were headed up too, but didn't know exactly how much further to Cyclone Pass.  So, I passed them and continued on.  At 1.3 miles, the trail opened up, and I was on top of the pass.  And it was as SPECTACULAR as I remembered.  I soooo wanted to stay there for 30 minutes and just soak in the beauty.  It was paining me to turn right around and get back to the guys.  I took a couple of quick shots with the camera; they really were quick, as I didn't even get off my machine and walk out to some great vantage points to get the best photos!

So I rolled and rocked and inched my way back down the trail in 4-wheel, low gear.  You can't help but hold your breath, ready to wince, going over some of those boulders, hoping you don't high-center our scrape the underside too badly. Note: there are no pictures of the worst part of the trail because there was no stopping.

I got back to the guys in about 15 minutes.  I gave my scouting report and insisted that since they were only a little over a mile from the top, they HAD to take my machine, one at time, and climb to the top so they could see the reward.  They agreed, and took me up on the offer, although it frustrated  them that the 4-wheeler could make it, and the motorcycles couldn't! 

We hadn't eaten lunch yet, so decided to do that first.  Right then, a weathered, tough ol' guy came  riding down on his 4-wheeler and stopped to talk.  He'd been fishing at the lake.  The guys asked him how it was getting down the trail to the lake; he laughed and reported, "Oh, it ten times worse than this!"  Although he admitted that on a motorcycle it might be a little easier because the boulders were much bigger, but there was some room to navigate between them on a cycle.  Not so with a 4-wheeler. 

Dennis finished his sandwich and got on my machine. Both Dennis and Allen took about 45 minutes to make the trek, and both agreed it was WORTH IT!  Just because of his emotional ties with these mountain peaks, Dennis was drop-jawed-speechless-impressed with the spectacular view of Wind River Peak, Shohone Lake, and the surrounding peaks of rugged rock.  This picture does not do it justice.

This is a small slice of the panoramic view from of Cyclone Pass. 

Both guys also agreed that the trail, indeed, got even worse, and it would be an impossibility for them to ride their motorcycles to the top of the pass. Allen called it "stupid hard."  The guys even had to admit that riding that big ol' 4-wheeler was a pretty sweet ride up and over all the boulders as it just slowly pulled itself over some nasty stuff.

Once we were all back to where the motorcycles had been parked, we regrouped and pointed the machines back down the mountain.  It was a good ride out. 

Labor Day Weekend, Day One

This weekend was the second annual 3-day 4-wheeler/motorcycle mountain marathon. My brother Dennis and his motorcycle buddy Allen came back for another weekend of nothing but riding, eating, and sleeping.  The guys arrived Thursday evening, and I knew it was a good sign when a full double rainbow appeared right before we met for dinner.  I took this picture very quickly before I left the house, and the rainbow became ever more beautiful as I drove into town. 

We attempted to get an early start; however, I have to say, it's become our routine to start out the morning with a hearty breakfast and good conversation before settling in  the pickup and pulling  the machines up to the mountains.  So, we're not the first ones on the trail by any stretch of the imagination, but we are awake, relaxed, and ready for a full day.

Day One: Pinion Ridge

Playing the role of scout, this trail was all new territory for me, so we were in explore mode and hoped we would hit a winner. This trip required going all the way to the top of Union Pass before unloading.  I studied the map and had the trail numbers pretty much in mind.  First, I suggested we go all the way out to the end of the trail on the north side of Pinion Ridge.  I was hoping there would be some pretty views as we went along the ridge, but that was not the case; we were in timber the whole time.  But when we broke out of the timber and climbed a ridge to the end of the trail, the view of Green River Lake opened up, and it was a beautiful sight.

Green River Lake

On the ridge, Dennis and Allen in the foreground behind my 4-wheeler.

Looking to the west, you can just make out the Grand Tetons. Too bad there's smoke in the air.

Next, we went back down the ridge and explored another trail stretching north where (according to the map) there was a small lake, but we discovered that the road was closed before you could get to the lake.  So, we ate lunch and decided to explore another area.  After looking at the map, we took a chance on another trail, again hoping it would be worth the ride.

 We happened to pick a very good path that lead us to the lower west end of the Green River Lake area.  The trail took us through some beautiful, old groves of Aspens.  In a couple weeks these big groves should be an absolutely glorious site as the leaves start to turn. We saw a big buck deer jump through the trees in front of us.

 And then the view of the lake really opened up.

Gorgeous views. 


On the way out, it was a little tricky finding the right trail a couple of times because they weren't marked, and we had to backtrack a short distance twice.  I think I have it clearly in mind for now, and if I'm able to return for the fall colors in a couple weeks, I feel pretty confident that I can lead my friends in and out on the right trails!  It made for a long enough day (or enough butt-time, as the guys would say); we put 48 miles on our machines.



Day one on the trail ended very successfully: good views, perfect weather, easy riding.  We stopped at the Cowboy Cafe for dinner...which was excellent, as usual.