Adventures abound

Last week offered me more time than not to go paddling twice with Sam, and camping/hiking/canyoning with Dara and Troy, Jason and Beckie.  Having a weekend without a bike adventure feels weird at first, but has left my energy and passion renewed for other experiences beyond the 2-wheeled sphere I roll around in.  Since I'm new to white water kayaking, I was too busy keeping upright on day one of the paddle to take pics; however, day 2 saw Sam and I on sea kayaks out on Canyon Lake.  Free from the distraction of power boats, we were free to explore the side canyons.  I was happy to find that the kayak I was using had not been used by anyone since I last used it and did not require any adjustment.

Starting early, the water was inky black with a surface texture that looked like molasses....

Turning the first bend heading up the canyon, 4-Peaks comes into view, framed by the stoic walls of time that partially shade our progression through the day.

Early morning light combined with narrow slot canyons was an "either-or" proposition in terms of exposure....I chose the nature over Sam.....Sorry Sam......

The clouds against a deep blue sky hang effortlessly above a bank of Cattails....the sweet smell of water in the desert filled our nostrils........

With each rhythmic paddle stroke contributing to a zen-like experience in the moments of silence, we peer upwards at radiant cliffs which funnel the breeze down to us in the sun; we long for the cool mist that one must feel way up there in the sky, with those Bob Ross-esque "Puffy little clouds".....

Turning into yet another slot canyon, a solipsistic photographer for the day takes note of the call of canyon wrens singing out in competing measures; each delightful and melodic sonnet repeating in echos from the lithic boundaries that surround us.......

....reflection in this deep and narrow place defined by darkness and flotsam offers up a duplicity in emotion and nature....

Exiting the coolness of the slot, the heat of the day meets us once again as we paddle on home.....

Before we exit, Sam works on his roll........

Transitioning from the low country of thorn and lake, I head north towards pine and creek and a day with Troy and Dara and Sally, Jason and Beckie and G and Alanna (with a K) for a fun day in the West Clear Creek Canyon

Oatmeal and coffee always tastes better this way......

Playing outside became the rule of the day....everything is fair game.....

Walking from camp, a held hand, a new friend and a pack of loyal dogs head into the light of a warmly scented forest road.

The scramble into the canyon required a portage of the younger, but all were in good spirits as we descended into a verdant oasis cleaved into this micro-climate of fun......

....clean fractured rock glowed with the coming of day which reached downward, lighting our way.

Once at the bottom, the ratter-instinct in Graham took over as he bounced around the mossy boulders, sniffing out the cracks in search of small mammal prey.....pure instinct never looks better.....

Across the way, the creek comes into view; flowing along in a languid coolness below a desert dune climate long gone....

More micro-climates are spotted, hanging from the eolian cliff walls, sheltered from all but the direct overhead rays of summer....

Below, a sea of gold marks the height of summer in this riparian playground......

.....peering within, more beauty is witnessed........

The experienced dogs busy themselves with crawdad catching and other dog-like behaviors.......

....while others come into their own on their own terms.......

Heading up stream, the "Cannon" comes into view.....Jason, takes the first plunge.......

Next up.....Troy........

Farther up stream, water is refilled at the spring issuing from the canyon walls in a sea of cliff-hugging chlorophyll.....

A beer I stashed in my pack is shared as modern petroglyph's are viewed.....

We walk in a lazy fashion beneath a canopy of filtered light and shadow; the rich glow of life fills the spaces around us......

Turning a bend, we head  into an amphitheater.  Craning our necks upward, we ponder and respect the 120ft free rappel required to enter this space.....the water choosing instead to ooze downward over the eons, staining the rock with life giving moisture.....

The sterile glow of the world above, is refracted by the seemingly-infinite grains of quartz which form this wall of sandstone.....

Returning to the rest of our party, I sit beside a pool and reflect........the waters hold me fast as I peer into the murkiness from above looking for answers, only to see what I currently know. Perhaps the epiphanies I seek are not to be found wearing the cloak and mask of naturalistic symbolism; rather, a reflection of the here and the now, reminding me to be present, always.

As we leave this underworld, I peer back up at the elephant-like skin that forms the cliffs around us.  I pledge to come back to the waters again soon.