Summer 2021: The Life and Times

I’m sitting watching the Harvest Moon burst from the northeastern horizon. Fat and pale in all its full moon glory, this night and this moon signifies the end of summer.

I’m alone at the mouth of Maple Canyon in Utah, rising above the parched farmland below. I’ve backed my camper between two large pinyon pines, nestled on red dirt pockmarked with the signs of recent rain. The searing sun, amplifying the intensity of otherwise moderate temperatures, has given way to a cool and peaceful night. While I miss my little family tonight, I feel so at ease here.

My friend will be joining me tomorrow for a week of cobble pulling in prime conditions, but tonight I’m alone. And in lonesome campsites, it’s easy to find yourself reflective of the recent and distant past. So, in the following paragraphs, I reflect on the months that have passed while bringing us up to date on the dramatic recent events of a summer of travel and exploration.

Before I could finish that thought, the incredible roar of a shotgun blast rang out, reverberating off the canyon walls.

The Summer Migration

Summer in southern Utah unofficially started in late May. Seasons around St. George are defined by the softness of skin on sharp limestone. And by late May I was beginning to offer great sacrifices of pad skin to the limestone gods.

North Carolina

Jumping on a notably dramatic plane flight from Las Vegas, I found myself far from the sun-drenched and harsh desert of the Mojave borderlands. Arriving in what felt like a terrarium, I stepped off the plane into the lush piedmont region of Raleigh, NC, on my way to my grandfather’s house in coastal Carolina. There I did family things that will be of little interest to you. I did see a cool copperhead snake though. It was so good to see family again after over a year of isolation.

North Rim, Grand Canyon

After arriving back in Utah at the tail end of May, we hitched up the trailer and headed straight for the North Rim of the Grand Canyon. We scored a stunning free site outside the park boundary, overlooking the thin fissure of Marble Canyon to the east.

Highlights of this four-day trip include cool and crisp 9,000-foot camping conditions, mellow and enjoyable rim hikes*, and prickly pear margaritas at the North Rim Visitor Center lodge; one of the world’s best back patios. This was the perfect rest phase respite after months of physically and mentally taxing winter and spring climbing.

*We traveled with our dog. National Parks suck with dogs, so we couldn’t enter the canyon proper.

Ten Sleep Canyon, Wyoming

After only a few weeks back in El Gorge, my fun nickname for St. George, I once again hitched up the camper and pointed the truck north on I-15. After dropping off Mrs. CC in Salt Lake City for her flight to visit family, I chugged further north and east to Ten Sleep Canyon, Wyoming. There I expected early June cool and crisp conditions.

What I found, after meeting a friend from Colorado, were mid-summer swelter temperatures, with highs over 100 in the town of Ten Sleep! As a reminder, this was the time of the summer when all of the west was experiencing extraordinary heat.

As a result of the dramatic swing in temperatures, all of the snow in the high ranges seemed to melt overnight. The Ten Sleep Creek surged the banks, rolling man-sized boulders all night long just yards from where we slept. Nothing like the sound of grinding rock and dangerous rapids to lull one to sleep.

After two weeks, hundreds of thumb rolls over limestone crimps, many sweaty uphill approaches, and a new higher and drier campsite, our time in the beautiful Ten Sleep Canyon came to a close.

Off to Colorado.

Colorado

Arriving in Golden with a seatbelt chest sweat stain during horrendous rush hour traffic, I instantly remembered my desire to leave the Front Range over a year ago. Speed up. Slow down. Speed up. Slow down. There’s nothing quite like the disappointment of driving all day to hit bumper-to-bumper traffic at the end of a midsummer journey. And the day of the week never seems to matter much.

After a stressful urban camper parking job, my friend and I wandered off for a much-needed brewery visit for beers and over-priced (but delicious) food cart tacos. This burst of urban Colorado yuppie-ness was a welcome reprieve after months of the relatively austere southern Utah nightlife scene.

After a couple of nights in the Denver area, I parked my camper in the front of a relative’s house in Colorado Springs. Mrs. CC flew in the next day from the east coast. We enjoyed some family time while oddly camping in the driveway. This was the first time I peed in a bottle since childhood road trips with my grandmother. I also used the air conditioning in my camper for the first time, which was amazing. Concerned neighbors gave us some side eye each morning. My young nephews eagerly rushed down at the crack of dawn psyched to make Aeropress coffee and touch (and move) everything in the camper. The coffee grinder was a real hit.

From here, Mrs. CC and I spent a couple of nights on a stopover in Durango, in southwest Colorado. This part of the state, marked by the intersection of the high pinyon and juniper Colorado Plateau desert and the stunning, jagged San Juan Mountains, is my favorite region in Colorado.

Back Home: A Desert Summer

Spending three weeks back home in early- to mid-July was the low water mark for the summer. I’ve definitely not adjusted to the desert summer life. Being stuck inside praying to the air conditioning gods from 8am – 8pm each day was psychologically draining. With highs cresting 115, overnight lows at 80+ degrees, and shade in short supply, being outside really at any time of the day felt horrible. This is the price you pay for exceptional weather nine months of the year, and that wonderful privilege is not lost on me.

During this time, I focused on indoor bouldering and preparing the new podcast wing of Clipping Chains Enterprises. In hindsight, even though my soul was screaming to be outside, I was able to achieve a lot during this time. I found much renewed psyche and appreciation for outdoor-filled days to come.

A Salt Lake City Summer

In late July, we packed up the hacienda and moved our life to Salt Lake City for a month. We booked this Airbnb in late spring, as the reality of the approaching summer hit home. In tandem with the trips mentioned above, our goal was two-fold:

1. Be out of the desert heat as much as possible

2. Not spend the entire summer in the camper (Mrs. CC’s wish, not mine )

Climbing-wise, I split my time between gym sessions in the impressive SLC gym scene, and occasional day trips to Maple Canyon to get reminded of my poor fitness at the time. Unfortunately, we didn’t find Salt Lake City to be the climatic reprieve that we hoped. With temperatures only 5-10 degrees cooler than St. George most days, and wildfire smoke at an all-time peak in the state, we just accepted that summer is summer. That said, we greatly enjoyed day hikes in the alpine environment of the Wasatch and Uinta mountains.

We also did some city things, like buying $50 in amazing canned curry from the Asian markets.

Backpacking: Uinta Mountains

To close our northern Utah trip before heading south, we spent three days and two nights backpacking in the Uinta Mountains. Our objective was to hit Red Castle Lake and then backtrack to Hessie Lake, about 35 miles total.

This was our first backpacking trip in two years. We worried that “Snickers”, now 11 years old, would struggle with so much strenuous activity. So, as thoughtful parents, we decided to carry her supplies instead of strapping on her old backpack with her own food and water, as we’ve done on previous trips. Nah, she’s still got it. She was amped, got to camp and ate probably 15 pounds of discarded fish heads, random edible/inedible trash, and human waste*. She spent the rest of the evening laying around bloated and uncomfortable.

The trip went off without a hitch, with mild weather and tolerable wildfire smoke. It was so amazing to spend a couple of nights outside and completely unplugged from the outside world.

*At risk of sounding old and crotchety, I’ve been astounded by the amount of trash in the outdoors, even in “wilderness” areas. Popular backpacking areas now feel like car camping sites of 10 years ago, scattered with poop, toilet paper, discarded goo rolls, and wrappers. If you are new to the outdoors and simply don’t know what to do, read this.

Late Summer at Home

Lately I’ve been back home, enjoying (relatively) plummeting temperatures and more outdoor climbing. A lot of folks who fled for the summer are back in town, and life is starting to settle into a nice normalcy again.

Maple Canyon: Summer’s End

“Okay, I’ll see you in the morning,” I said to my friend before climbing into my camper around 9:40 pm on a quiet Wednesday night. Within minutes, I hear the thumping bass of a stereo system and car pulling into the pullout, just yards from our campsite behind a row of pinyon trees.

Great, I thought. These idiots have come here to camp and party.

Before I could finish that thought, the incredible roar of a shotgun blast rang out, reverberating off the canyon walls.

What the f***k!, I texted my friend, who was now in his tent within eyesight of the shooters.

Moments later and BOOM! Another shot blasts from the darkness. I hear a subtle knock at my camper door. It’s my friend, eager to get even an inch of plexiglass between him and the armed squad on the road.

We decided to call the police. It’s 10pm, we’re on private land, and this is probably not the land owner. We fear that these idiots don’t know people are camping here, and might turn the barrel of the gun in our direction next.

I google the local police department and press the call button. I’m nervous that the dispatcher will meet my concern with a “Welcome to Utah, son” kind of vibe, but she thanks me for my call. Minutes later, a cop blasts up the road, engine revving, blue lights flashing, and a spotlight spastically scanning the trees.

I emerge from the shadows with both hands up. I’m met with a quick flashlight to the face by a fast-walking officer. After calmly informing the officer that I was the one who reported the incident, he relaxes his posture. The shooters likely fled while I was making the call, but the officer, who is very familiar with the canyon, notes that the two buckshot blasts to the Maple Canyon signs are new. Mystery solved.

Several more deputies arrive. They construct a road block at the mouth of the canyon, as there’s a chance that the group headed up the canyon and could be caught coming back down.

Just yards away, we climb into bed and settle in for a restless night of sleep.

Summer, a Summary

As I reflect on this summer, I have to say things have been good, perhaps even better than expected. When we decided to move to the desert—easily confused with dessert—we knew that summer would be a worthy adversary. As the temperatures climbed in the spring, the dread of June, July, August, and even September loomed large in my mind.

Now that those days have passed, I’m thankful for the great gift of financial freedom that allows us to randomly uproot and travel on a whim, often mid-week and crowd-free. But this life does not come without downsides. While leaving for the summer sounds like an obvious choice, there are issues to consider: Should we rent our house to fund our travel? If the house remains empty, what happens if there is an issue while no one is home to notice it? Will my neighbors lose their minds if we have a few weeds pop up in the front yard with no one to pick them? Will I miss my own bed, my own kitchen, and the inevitable home life routine that we so easily fall into?

There are no easy issues. But as they say, variety is indeed the spice of life.

---

Remember, the best laid plans mean nothing if you can’t take action today. Have questions? Need some feedback? Hit us up on the contact page.

If you enjoyed this post, please subscribe here for much, much more. And please, send this to someone who might enjoy or benefit from this content.

Support this free project:

Thanks guys, see you next week.

Affiliate links are used on this page. If you choose to purchase a linked product, you will incur no extra charges, but we will receive a tiny-baby portion of the sale. Those very small proceeds help us keep the digital lights on around here. We wouldn’t link to a product we wouldn’t buy ourselves. Tis all!