Sandhill Cranes

If you're lucky you'll see a moose or two in the Uintas. But you should also keep your eyes open for other wildlife. I once ran over a pine marten, and yesterday I almost ran over a marmot. Someone else ran over, or rather in to, a very large moose. The moose was still by the road. The Ford 150 probably went right the to scrap yard, no need to stop at the crushing machine. (That's why I don't drive over 45 at night, even though the posted limit is 55. Animals, especially deer, are always in the road. Last night I had to stop for a big buck with new antlers growing just larger than his ears and starting to branch.)

I picked a ridge overlooking a meadow filled with willows and beaver ponds to watch for moose. Just as I was about to sit down, I heard a whoosh behind me, and a sandhill crane flew out of the trees, almost over my head.

It was joined by a second crane, and they flew out to the beaver ponds.

And landed in the meadow.

I sat quietly while one walked across the meadow, up the hill, and back behind me, to where it had started. I thought there might be a nest, so I looked around the area, but not wanting to upset the birds too much, I didn't look very hard.

When the second crane flew over the pond I heard and saw a big splash right under his feet. I was trying to figure out what the bird had dropped when I realized the splash was a beaver. They slap their tails on the water as a warning.

I left the meadow when the rain started coming down pretty heavy. That lasted a couple hours and made everything seem clean and crisp.

Then the sun went down.

This is Hayden Peak after dark. Notice the snow on the trees. This is fresh snow, about two or three inches deep. The lookout is just above Mirror Lake, almost to Bald Mountain Pass.

Fifth Water Hot Springs, Spanish Fork Canyon

Fifth Water Hot Springs is up Diamond Fork Canyon, which you get to about 10 miles up Spanish Fork Canyon. I don't know how many miles up Diamond Fork Canyon you go, but you pass a campground, the Red Rock picnic area, another campground, and a couple little "Day Use Only" parking areas. The trail is called Three Forks and is well marked on the road with a good-size parking area and outhouses. The parking area was almost full even on a Thursday afternoon on an almost-rainy day in June.

Once on the trail, turn left and follow the creek. Don't cross the creek; that trail goes somewhere else. Someone scribbled on the trail sign just over the creek, "Go back. This is not the hot springs." I had to wonder if someone was serious or playing a joke. They were serious.

The trail follows the creek about a mile; then it turns right across the creek and follows a smaller creek for about another mile and not quite a half. Overall, the trail climbs a bit, especially toward the end. I passed two guys on mountain bikes. The trail seemed like a great place to ride a bike, but I guess hiking is actually faster.

The bridge over the river warns of nude bathers at the hot springs.

I passed a couple of these little guys on the way. I understand there are also rattle snakes, but I didn't see any.

If you keep your eyes open you'll see the first set of hot pools to the right of the trail. I didn't keep my eyes open and went about a half mile past all the pools.

The middle pools are the easiest to see, because they're at the base of a waterfall. The hot water runs into this pool from a couple little springs at the back and on the left of this picture.

When I came down the trail there were some kids here and the boy was filling his drinking bottle in the waterfall. I told him he probably wouldn't enjoy getting giardia, and he dumped out the water and thanked me. I wonder how many people learn of giardia the hard way.

I soaked in the upper pool. This one is a bit tricky to find, but I think it's the best one. A couple hundred feet past the middle pool (the one with the waterfall), the trail splits. Take the right trail and it'll go right to this pool (and a pool connected to the right of the picture). The pool is about thigh-deep, so it's just right for sitting in with water up to your neck. The hot water bubbles up into the pool from the bottom and is pretty hot, especially if you stand on the bubbling water spouts. There's a hole at the top of the pool where cold water runs in from the creek. You can plug the hole with a towel (provided when I was there) to make the pool hotter, or open it to make it cooler. I plugged it, but the other wimpy guys thought it was too hot, so they unplugged it.

I'm not a social kind of guy and would normally like to soak and be quiet, but the other guys at the pool were fun to talk with. One kid from New Jersey had been living in Moab but was on his way to Jackson Hole to be an "arborist." He said that means he's going to work for a guy who cuts trees for people--he'll be the one who feeds the branches to the chipper. He just wanders around and gets cash work where he can. The other guys were brothers and cousins from Cedar Valley and Lehi.

There was only one naked person in the group (I asked him to hide behind the rock when I took the picture). I also passed a group of people on the trail down who looked like would-be skinny dippers, as I couldn't see that they had any bathing suits, and they seemed like free spirits. So I guess you need to expect that at this place.

But it was the kind of outdoor natural hot springs (rotemburo) that I tried to find in Japan. Beautiful setting, hot soothing water with a touch of sulfur and other minerals that make the water a bit milky and your skin silky smooth, and a nice hike to boot.

If you see this waterfall, you've gone about a quarter mile past the hot springs, but it's worth the extra walk.

Backpacking in the Uintas

I didn't hike far, but I had to try out my new backpack and my old legs.

If you can't read it, the sign says, "High Uintas Wilderness."

The trail I followed from Christmas Meadows to the Amethyst Lake cutoff is not too tough. It has some ups and downs but very little overall elevation gain, which was just right for me.

The trail crosses a lot of drinking water streams, especially this time of year. But don't drink without a filter.

The bridge was out at Ostler Creek, so that's as far as I went.

Stillwater Creek is anything but still here. It does slow down and meander when it gets into Christmas Meadows. You can almost see Ostler Creek dumping into Stillwater in the upper left of this picture.

The only flat place I could find to camp was near where the two creeks meet. It looks peaceful, but the creeks sounded like a jet flying low overhead, or camping on the beach.

Okay, stop for a book review. I grabbed this book called "The Shack" at Costco before I left to backpack on Friday morning. No offense to Wynona Judd, who said, "Reading 'The Shack...has blown the door wide open to my soul," and Kathie Lee Gifford, who said, "'The Shack' will change the way you think about God forever." I was not impressed. Unfortunately, it was the only entertainment I took with me, and with rain most of the evening, reading was all there was to do.

When I pick up a novel, I want to be taken on a journey. If the journey provides some insight into human nature or our relationship with others, all the better. I don't have to agree with the author's viewpoints, as long as there's a story and it makes me think. I understood "the Shack" was about a man's discovery of and relationship with God, and having my own beliefs about God, I expected the author's views to be different.

But I didn't expect that after the first few chapters the book would turn into a long, trite, coma-inducing conversation with a mystical God that I could neither understand nor relate to. He/she is three in one and one in three, or any other form you choose. I guess the idea is that God can be anything you want. Not a new idea, Nicene Creed and all.

I admit, after page 100 I skipped to the end. But nothing had changed. The weekend-long conversation was till going on. A big burning question the man had was how to deal with his antisocial daughter. Apparently the issue was never addressed until the very end, when a curt, one-sentence revelation was so obvious I could have told the guy that on page 60.

Okay. That's out of the way.

I'm not a cabin kind of person--I don't want to be tied down to vacationing in one location. But if I had a cabin, it would be here in Christmas Meadows.

On the way home I stopped at Mirror Lake. The trail around the lake was still covered with about two feet of snow, but there were quite a few people enjoying the day. The people in the right side of the picture caught their limit of fish on "green jigs" for the second week in a row in the same spot.

I caught one rainbow on a Rapala.

Then I lost three Rapalas in the weeds. These lures are expensive. I switched to another lure and snagged it, too, but when I pulled it in it was dragging one of my Rapalas.

I know you've been waiting for the shot of the aspens. I took this near where I camped.

Unclutter Your Life for Good

The following is the spiritual thought I shared with the high council this morning.

President Marion G. Romney said, "Service is not something we endure on this earth so we can earn the right to live in the celestial kingdom. Service is the very fiber of which an exalted life in the celestial kingdom is made."

Elder Carlos Asay said, "...priesthood power is to be exercised in behalf of other people; it is not something to sit upon or to simply glory in. It suggests that priesthood callings are to be magnified."

He then defines what it means to magnify: "According to Webster's Third New International Dictionary, 'to magnify is to increase the importance of: cause to be held in greater esteem or respect...to make greater.'

"One magnifies a calling by learning one's duty and executing it fully; giving one's best effort...; (and) consecrating one's time, talents, and means to the Lord's work."

So, what keeps priesthood holders from magnifying their callings?

Last week I spoke with someone about home teaching, and service in the church, and dedication to our church callings. It seems that over the years, people in the church have gone from what may have at times been an over-dedication to their callings to doing just enough. Sometimes I think when we receive a calling, whether consciously or subconsciously, we ask ourselves, what's the minimum I can do in this job and still be fulfilling my calling.

We pondered: What's different today? I think one difference is that we have a lot more clutter in our lives than we used to.

This is a nice solid rock that I got from the Provo River in the Uintas. It's been banged around and weathered quite a bit, but it seems that it's formed of pretty solid materials and has handled its roughing up quite well.

It would still be useful for grinding corn, protecting yourself, or, if you had enough of these rocks, building a shelter.

If this were a priesthood holder, this would be one you could depend on.

This volcanic rock was formed full of what I call clutter. It had a lot of swirly little pieces of topaz, other silica, maybe even some beryllium trapped throughout and when exposed to the weather, the clutter fell out, and the rock was left to give way to whatever was acting on it.

This is an interesting rock, but as a priesthood holder, it's a bit on the holey side.

Elder William R. Bradford, a former member of the First Quorum of Seventy, taught in a talk called Unclutter Your Life:

"The story is told of a boy who arrived home from school and found his father standing at the open door looking into a very cluttered house. 'Is Mother home?' asked the boy. His father answered, 'I can't see her, but I know she's in there somewhere. I can hear sobbing.'"

"I believe that a cluttered life can create a great deal of sorrow and sadness and be the cause of much sobbing. I know that we can surround ourselves with the material things to the extent that we have no time for the spiritual. Look around and you will see all the gadgets and toys and the nice and the fun things that cause us to squander and pay and to wander and play.

"We give our lives to that which we give our time.

"Nothing suits the devil better than to become a silent partner with us. He also knows that while in mortality we are subject to time...by his subtle means he can...influence us to make...choices that use up our time unwisely and prevent us from doing that which we should.

"We need to develop a list of basics, a list of those things that are indispensable to our mortal welfare and happiness and our eternal salvation.

"With an uncluttered life, you will not be so busy doing terrestrial things that you do not have time to do those things which are celestial."

Elder Hales said (of provident living),

The four most caring words for those we love are "We can't afford it."

I suggest that we be more like the solid rock. When clutter presents itself, trying to occupy our time and take us away from magnifying our callings, sometimes we need to say, "Our time is precious. We can't afford it."

Jackson's First T-Ball Practice

Today was Jackson's first T-ball practice. Or, as he told me, "It's not T-ball. It's baseball."

I guess it was also the first day for all of the kids, and Coach Jason, too.

Jason did a great job with the kids. Most of them had no clue what a base was and how to hit the ball. After Jason walked them around and taught them first base, second base, third base, home plate, I heard Jackson say, "Why are there bases?"

By the end of the hour they were batting the ball...

...and running the bases.

They were also catching the ball.

I didn't actually see anyone catch a ball. There was a lot of running and picking up.

Then they learned to throw the ball to first base.

Chieko watched Tanner...

Who made a beeline...

...for the playground.

It was a fun hour, and the kids learned a lot and had fun. Their first game is on Monday. The pressure's on. Go Red Sox!

I've uploaded some pictures of kids who aren't all Jackson and Tanner to my gallery at http://gallery.mac.com/michaelastle. Email me for the user name and password. You can share the user name and password among the parents and use this space to share pictures throughout the T-ball season if you want.

Monster Truck Races

I was a little surprised when I found tickets to see the El Diablo Monster truck race at the Energy Solutions Arena and Chieko wanted to go.

This is the Ford F-350 El Diablo. Cool.

When we arrived at the Arena, me in my worn Levi jacket and cowboy boots, I discovered most of the other spectators were old people dressed like they were going to a concert. Boy, would they be surprised when they heard the roar of 600-horsepower engines and saw the flying dirt.

Inside, people were sitting where the trucks should have been, and the stage said, "Il Divo," not "El Diablo." What's Il Divo?

In Italina, il divo means divine male performer. This was a singing group with four guys who together sing as one divine male performer. Or something like that. They were discovered by Simon Cowell, one French pop singer and three opera singers from the U.S., Spain, and Switzerland. They sing pop songs from Frank Sinatra's "My Way" to Simon and Garfunkel's "Bridge Over Troubled Waters." With 600-horsepower voices, I must say.

They even had acrobatics, when the four lighting guys climbed to their perches high above the stage.

Sabastian (pop singer from France who gave up the electric guitar and song writing), David (tenor from America who chose Il Divo over the NY Metropolitan opera), Carlos (baritone from Spain whose heroes are Tom Jones and Mario Lanza), Urs (tenor from Switzerland who sang opera and is a motorcycle fanatic).

Boy, was I surprised at the roar of 20,000 screaming women and flying roses during the encores.

This is a short piece of the "Bridge Over Troubled Waters" performance.