Feeling the Old Earth

Badlands National Park, South Dakota

(The adventure in nature begins, Labor Day weekend, September 2010)

The sky’s blue color intensifies as we approach Badlands. The towering walls and small hills that compose the National Park look parched, harsh, and lonely. The sharp contrast with the backdrop is magnificent. I have never seen such beauty.

We hike a short trail through these massive deposits. I touch the rock layers as I walk, trying to feel the earth’s past. I imagine the natural forces that formed and shaped the 65 million year-old fossil beds and wonder what the planet looked like back then. The formations feel like molded dry sand and solid mud. Rough, craggy. The trail takes us up a hill overlooking a flat terrain with miles of smaller formations. I see a group of tourists come out of a bus down the hill, loud and crowded. But up here, it is only the four of us and our shadows.

Badlands is a gateway to our whole adventure out west trip. Its bizarre form, its mesmerizing history of formation, and its gripping human tale lured us. We filled our itinerary with places of natural beauties that we wanted to add to our memory banks.  I think this Badlands experience and its amazing images will continue to be an easy retrieve for us.

All four of us have traveled and experienced almost all of the country’s metropolises and we wanted to experience something new. Curiosity and admiration of nature lead us to a different fashion of travel. Hence the birth of our ambitious eight-day, 3427-mile road trip plan that also includes a series of hiking and backpacking!

Our trip (by Google Map)

I look back to see the hills of Badlands one more time as we drive away toward Black Hills. There in a vast land they stand the test of time. In full surrender to nature’s willful acts and constant change. The wind and rain will continue to erode and transform the small hills of Badlands until there are no more. But until then they remain, quietly holding some secrets of the earth.

Photos property of Traveling Chili Peppers 

Special thanks to JN, LM, TJ, FW

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Catching Sunset

(Adventure Out West Series, September 2010)

We rush to beat the sunset today. I hear Fifi coughing as she tries to catch her breath. We’re walking really fast, close to running almost. We only have three and a half hours to finish a seven-mile hike up Harney Peak before the sky turns dark. So the hike that normally takes about four and a half to five hours, if done leisurely, gets accelerated. The trail we pick starts from the beautiful Sylvan Lake and through the woods, up the rocky ground, and ends at Harney Peak. Soft wind and sunlight support our hurried steps. We notice glitters on the trail coming from Black Hills’ mineral-filled ground, they look like bits of granite that sparkle with sunlight. From a distance we see the peak with a tower on it. It looks so far away, across the pine valley and hills.

Earlier this afternoon, we arrived at our second hiking destination at Custer State Park in Black Hills National Park, South Dakota. After a short hike at Badlands National Park we drove  through Mount Rushmore and the Needles Highway and set up camp at Custer State Park. We still have our long hike at Grand Teton and a camping trip at Yellowstone. Ambitious? Very much so. I feel like we were trying to squeeze in every natural beauty we can take during this short adventure out west.

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The trail gets steep and narrow closer to the peak. Friendly fellow hikers say hello as we pass by, telling us that we are not too far away and that it is all worth the hike when we get to the top. Finally we see the stony structure with stairs going up to the tower on top of the peak. The air feels cooler as we climb up the tower. We get to be on the highest peak east of the Rocky Mountain, at 7242 feet elevation, with a view of Black Hills and beyond. A land of stony hills with sharp peaks and pine trees stretch as far as the eyes can see. Some of the tree tops look dry and yield this brown and red color that match well with the beige tone of the hills. Other trees cover the rest of the area with its green leaves. The sunlight peaks through a batch of white clouds casting a shadow on some hills while other part bask in the bright light. The sky seems to be bigger out here.

The sun starts to set as we descend back to the trail head.  We’re walking much faster trying to get out of the woods before dark. I see the sky turns pink and then dark red about halfway through the hike.  Afterward the sunset catches up with us and wins the race. We see the ground sparkles once again as our flashlights illuminate our way out of Black Hill’s wilderness.

Photos property of Traveling Chili Pepper

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Into the Mountain: A Childhood Dream

(Adventure Out West Series)

Towering mountains stand close together like they are guarding something precious behind them. They remind me of city skyline reaching out to the sky, only in a much more incredible magnitude. The peaks look sharp like shark’s teeth chewing off white clouds that try to cover their magnificence look. Birds’ squawks bounce off the grey and rough Teton walls. A moose sneezes as we walk by. The animal glances at us, looking uninterested, then continues feeding itself. We laugh and keep on hiking toward Lake Solitude. Rocky trail demands my attention.  I keep my head down to watch my step. Up the hill is the only way to go. Walking with a 15-pound backpack is definitely not easy, especially in the mountains!

That morning we woke up at Cascade Canyon, up in the mountains.  The sun tried to peak from behind the mountains as we enjoyed breakfast. We had a long hike ahead of us. The five-mile hike we did the day before would be nothing compared to the 11-mile we were about to do. Novices in hiking in the mountains, we overestimated our powers. I know I did.

We spent the night before enjoying dinner and wine under the star-filled sky. The spot we found was nestled in between mountains and close to a creek. Songs of Gilberto Santarosa played from my cellphone mixed with the sound of water flowing from the creek serenaded the night. The stars made the sky glow. I had never seen that many stars in my life and forgot about the arduous hike.

This backcountry trip at the Grand Teton National Park was probably the most challenging part of our 8-day adventure out west. The four of us drove after spending a night at Black Hills, South Dakota, and hiked our way to Harney Peak. We arrived at our cabin at Colter Bay late at night and prepared what’s needed for the backcountry. I was nervous and eager at the same time. The trip was our first backpacking trip in the mountains, home of many bears. I had no idea what kind of terrain we were going into.

Growing up in Surabaya, one of Indonesia’s most populous cities, I remember going to the foothills of Mount Penanggungan just outside of the city with my family in the weekends. My parents love the fresh and cool mountain air. We would stay at a local hotel, swim, and hang out together. I’d always plead with my dad to go up into the mountain. He’d say that we are already in the mountain.  I would argue that I could still see the mountain, so I knew we were not up there yet. I was so intrigued. There was something mystical yet majestic, about these mountains, especially the ones in Indonesia as they sit on the Pacific Ring of Fire. I was always so fascinated by these earth’s towers and their magnitude.

The grueling terrain finally takes us to Lake Solitude. The water stands perfectly still, giving the mountains, clouds, sky, and birds a chance to see their reflections. Silence radiates and echoes all over.  The rocky and rugged panorama of the surrounding gets softened by the quiet body of water. The scene dwarfs us. I think I could spend hours here, just to sit and stare at the beauty. But a few minutes later I am reminded that we all still have to walk for another eight miles back to Jenny Lake and catch a boat to go back to our cabin. I don’t remember how long Jeff carries my backpack as we descend  but I do remember wanting to cry and call it quit. I think I may have satisfied my childhood dream of going into the mountains. It is very tough. But I would do it again.

Photos property of Traveling Chili Pepper

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Yellowstone: Blow Off Some Steam

I woke up startled. Something brushed against our tent. It happened again and I struggled to sit up while still being wrapped up inside of my new sleeping bag. Jeff was sound asleep. I tried to see where the noise came from. For a minute I thought it was the grizzly we had been warned about. But then I saw it! Chunks of snow slid down our tent creating a loud noise. With a sigh of relief I lay back down and tried to ignore the cold. The temperature had gone down to 34 degrees that night, it was only early September. Just as I drifted back to sleep I heard the wolf howling.  Then, a painful and high-pitch wail of some other animal followed right after. The excruciating cry went for a while. The sounds of nature and the serenade by wildlife did not soothe me to sleep that night.

The four of us drove from Grand Teton National Park to Yellowstone National Park in the morning. After the grueling hike we did at Grand Teton, we decided to just drive from one point of interest to the next at Yellowstone. No one objected. We were tired, cold, and far away from the comforts of our own apartments.

Yellowstone felt like the perfect place to end our eight-day road trip adventure out West. The Park found a way to sum up the purpose of this rather ambitious travel. With its collection of geysers, hot springs, mudpots, and steam vents, the world’s first national park seems to be housing quite a few spots for the earth to literally…blow off steam. One such spot is the Old Faithful Geyser that lets out pressure (on average) every 90 minutes. For first timers at Yellowstone, the Old Faithful seemed to be a must see. We joined the large gathering crowd at the outskirts of the geyser, waiting patiently to see it shoots out boiling water to the sky. As I waited, I imagined that maybe a long time ago, when human beings were closer to the earth and the universe, the very act of waiting for water to burst out of the ground was made to be some sort of a ritual. I wondered what myths were told to explain this one special behavior of the planet. The geyser finally erupted. The high-pressured water found its way out of the vent and into the air, captured by hundreds of cameras for about three minutes.

The Park, larger than the states of Rhode Island and Delaware combined, offers many objects for visitors to marvel. Tourists, from all over the world, fill the winding road hoping to catch a glimpse of wildlife taking refuge in the grand mountains and valleys. Canyon, rivers, lakes, waterfalls, and forests seemed to be telling visitors that wildlife is their main priority—that people are just simply guests here.

A bison walked slowly on the side of the road ignoring its surrounding. Theo stopped the car at a safe distance so that Fifi could take pictures of the animal. Jeff got out of the car and captured the scene with his video camera. I followed Jeff and stared at the bison, it started to cross the road toward our car. We jumped back into the car and drove away, fast. The conversation about our encounter with the bison stopped when we spotted a black bear across the river. We joined other motorists who stopped to watch at the incredibly adorable looking animal as it moved slowly and quietly from behind tall trees to the river. The bear though seemed to show no interest in people, attention, or cameras and head back to the woods to find some peace and quiet. We spotted more wildlife as we drove all over the park, all had the same expression of pure bliss.

When we got to the Artist Point, I wanted nothing but stare in silence at the overwhelming beauty. Giant canyon with yellow walls guarded the massive Yellowstone waterfalls. The water rushed and ran for miles and hitting gigantic rocks along the way like telling them to get out of the way. The dramatic view created a peaceful but fierce and forceful scene at the same time. I was captivated.

Nature’s magnificence distracted us from feeling cold on that rainy day. The sun would pop out once in a while to decorate the hills and valleys with rainbow. The rain turned into snow as the evening came. We struggled to keep our eyes open at dinner at Grant Village Dining Room Restaurant though I don’t think any of us slept well that night. We rose up with the sun and saw the snow-covered mountains, trees, and …tents. The morning revealed another greatness of nature—its ability to change the look of the landscape overnight.

I felt the wind blew with quite a force like it was trying to escape from the trap of the canyon at Inspiration Point, the last spot we visited before we head back home. The observation point was down more than the 50 narrow steps, overlooking the upstream and downstream of the canyon. Surrounded by nature’s sounds, colors, shapes, and feelings, I stood in awe.

In the words of Nathaniel P. Langford, 1870, one of the first explorers to record his impressions of the Grand Canyon of the Yellowstone (Print source: Canyon Area Trail Guide, Yellowstone National Park)

“The place where I obtained the best and most terrible view of the canyon was a narrow projecting point situated two to three miles below the lower fall. Standing there or rather lying there for greater safety, I thought how utterly impossible it would be to describe to another the sensations inspired by such a presence. As I took in the scene, I realized my own littleness, my helplessness, my dread exposure to destruction, my inability to cope with or even comprehend the mighty architecture of nature.”

 

 

This entry is part of the Eight Day Road Trip Adventure Out West. Coming Up: Entries on Grand Teton, Black Hills, and Badlands!

Special thanks to TJ, FW, JN

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Photos property of Traveling Chili Pepper

 

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