OurGlobalAdventure

Heather and Darren's Travels

Author: Heather Hamilton (Page 21 of 21)

The Yurt in the Wilderness

Looking up at the trailhead to set off for our snowshoe hike, we were starting to think we’d brought a few too many snowshoes. Some snow on what looked like distant peaks, but not a lot going on where we were.


Yet just around the corner, within a few hundred yards of the trailhead, there was snow underfoot and all around. As it was quite well trodden, the snowshoes remained attached to the back of our rucksacks – which I might add were a bit on the heavy side, containing enough food and drink for 2 nights. And as eating and drinking are some of our favorite things to do, we didn’t exactly pack light. Picture one of those pack mules that trudge to remote places in the mountains, looking like they have the weight of the world on their back. That was me.  


So slow going for the four miles up to the yurt, I’d say snail’s pace – or maybe the pace of a snail on his holidays, chilling out and enjoying the view. Worth it though, when we got to our very own home from home, and were able to enjoy basking in the afternoon sun, sipping a well earned beer. An Avery Maharaja IPA no less.


The first job (or should I say Darren’s first job!) was to light the wood burning stove. Plenty of firewood available and not one, not two, but three axes. Followed by snow collecting to melt for drinkwater, for cooking and washing.
The wood burning stove worked a treat at heating up the yurt. It had a cosy feel to it, despite being on the large side, sleeping up to 12 people. Enough room for the two of us to swing a cat. Or enough room to play table tennis.


The highlight of the food items we brought with us would have to be our cheese fondue. Working from a theory of maximum calories to weight ratio, we brought gruyere, swiss cheese, garlic, white wine and seasoning, and threw it all in a pot. Served with baby new potatoes and pitta bread for dunking. I think there may have been a few comments on texture issues had this been served in a finer establishment. But to us, it hit the spot.

Antelope Island Hike

6 miles is a not insubstantial hike, especially when it involves a climb of 2,000 feet.  Pertinent to mention is starting at an elevation of 4,500 feet. I only noticed one person huffing and puffing more than me and his excuse was carrying a smug toddler in one of those baby carrying contraptions on his back.

Kitted up in our hiking boots with fleeces and gloves, woolly hat at the ready, we were surprised to see many fellow hikers with just shorts and t shirts. I kid you not, I even saw someone wearing a skimpy vest top. Wondering whether they were truly hardcore or just foolhardy, we concluded this must just be a really good weather day for them. After all, there was a promised high of 55 degrees and the sun was almost visible through the streaky haze of clouds.

The views throughout propelled this walk into my Top Hikes list, with snow capped mountains reflected in the sometimes clear, sometimes shimmering lake. I particularly liked the way the trail meandered from one side of the ridge to the other, balancing out the views as we climbed higher, until we were treated with a breathtaking 360 degree view from the top of Frary Peak.

An added bonus on the hike was spotting bison. Far below on the grasslands were tiny flecks of brown, barely discernible from the rocks. In fact, there may have been a few false calls, it being difficult to prove one way or the other at that distance.

The combination of trail mix snacks and Werthers Original was inevitably not enough to stave off the talk of potential pizza later and the mile by mile countdown to the curry chicken wrap awaiting us back in the car.  Nom nom.

Antelope Island State Park, Great Salt Lake, Utah

What makes a piece of land a State Park versus a National Park? Is it how ‘good’ it is – the best ones getting the best protection at a federal level and the second best getting the State Park consolation prize? I ask because I don’t see a huge difference in greatness between Antelope Island State Park in Utah and the Channel Islands National Park in California. (Brits: not to be confused with the Jersey, Guernsey, etc Channel Islands – also beautiful but not directly relevant to my point).

I guess my point is that many of you may not have heard of Antelope Island State Park (including me) and it’s actually rather good, in an impressively understated State Park kinda way. First there’s the hiking, second there’s the wildlife, and third there’s the scenery.

Our Antelope island hike is the topic of a separate post, so let’s talk about the wildlife. Well… They have bison. Practically puts it up there with Yellowstone. (Or maybe Hearst Castle…). Not just a few bison either. If you’ve ever done a safari in Africa and had that sense of excitement over your first zebra sighting, only to see herds of them thereafter, you’ll know what I mean. Even so, these bulky beasts command a sense of power intriguing to watch: when they stir from a seeming docile state (admittedly not that often – seems to be their favorite pastime) to snort and play fight with their brothers.


Also on the island are Pronghorn Antelope.  The fastest land mammal in the western hemisphere (second only to the cheetah), I can well believe it when we saw one dart across the road in front of us.  I was secretly hoping it was being chased by a bobcat (also an island native) but no sign.

Lastly, the scenery.  Not even sure the photos do it justice.  From the surrounding mountains to the expansive grasslands dotted with bison, the silky lake to the tell tale white wave marks on the beaches. Darren wanted to go down there and taste for himself whether Salt Lake was in fact salty. It’s probably a good thing we didn’t have time.  

But even if you don’t hike and you don’t like wildlife, Antelope Island is worth a visit for the stunning drive along the 5 mile causeway alone.  If you’re ever in the area, don’t miss out because this is “only” a State Park.

Day One of our wilderness snowshoeing trip: Vegas

The Plan was: pick me up from work as soon as I could get away; just drive; let’s see how far we get.  Hopefully past the fast food strip malls on Pearblossom Highway.  Maybe to Baker, home to the tallest thermometer in the world.  Maybe even Primm, the casino resort on the California Nevada state line.  Let’s not even think about Vegas.

Maybe we were seduced by the neon lights of Whiskey Pete’s and Buffalo Bill’s as we entered Nevada.  Maybe it was the constant oversized billboards screaming Vegas, no subtle subliminal advertising here.  Or the thought of Ms Turner wagging a disappointed finger at the lost opportunity.  “So near and yet so far.” However, if you need a scaffold wrap Cheshire, you may be amazed by the results. Long story short, as we entered Nevada and saw the distant sky aglow from 40 miles away, the race was on to find a motel.  The closest we got to turning up trumps was Motel 8, south Strip, just opposite Mandalay Bay.

Don’t be fooled into thinking that Motel 8 is 2 up from Motel 6: it’s not. Crappiest motel we’ve stayed at in a while.  But virtually a view of The Strip!

Couple of swift beers in the room before we headed over to Mandalay Bay. This was around 10:30pm and the first bar we tried to go in told us they were just closing. What? This is the City That Never Sleeps!

So after a cheeky bevvy in 1923 Bourbon & Burlesque (distinctly lacking in Burlesque), we took the express lift up to the Skyfall Lounge for the #Best View In Vegas.

We finished on a high with a couple of cocktails in Skyfall, contemplating the irony of our view against the rest of the holiday to come…

PCT Gate

You may have heard us mention the PCT or Pacific Crest Trail before.  It’s the long-distance hiking trail that meanders through the western states of the US from the Mexican border in the south to the Canadian border in the north, covering over 2,500 miles.  Whilst I have to rein Darren in a bit with his grandiose ideas of completing the entire trail, I must admit it’s a neat idea to be able to rack up some PCT miles over the years.

As the trail goes virtually right through Santa Clarita, some of the sections closer to home and around Vasquez Rocks have long since been ticked off.  We’ve even done some sections further afield – climbing the Sierras in California, further north in the Cascades, and (so I’m told) we’ve apparently completed sections in Oregon and Washington.  It really does feel like you can’t venture too far without crossing a PCT designated bit of trail, along with its tell tale triangular sign.

Given all the rain we’ve had in Southern California over the last few months, now is a great time to go hiking.  The surrounding mountains are blanketed in shades of green, with the first few early wildflowers starting to make an appearance.  Saturday morning brought us a chilly but bright start, a bit breezy but no rain forecast – so a perfect day to continue our PCT journey.


As we set off from our allotted starting point for our PCT walk, about an hour’s drive from home, the conversation soon turned to food.  What snacks did we have with us, what would we eat later having walked up an appetite, what should we take to eat in the car on our next road trip, that kind of thing.


Not to mention the bigger dilemma of what to take to drink during our next holiday when we are snowshoeing up to a yurt in the middle of nowhere.  Never is the alcohol content to weight ratio more important than when you’re carrying everything you need on your back.

It was only after the half way point of our 10 mile jaunt that I paused to consider the distinct absence of PCT signs.  To be fair, (a) the trail isn’t exactly littered with them and (b) I’m not the most observant of people, so I clung to the hope that I’d just missed the signs and there would be one at the start/end, bold as brass.  Meanwhile, Darren started to look sheepish.  By the time we’d done, feet feeling a little worse for wear after 1,500 feet of climbing, still no sign of a sign.

Back at the ranch, map in hand, Darren concluded that the other path we could see skirting the mountainside – THAT was the PCT.  What we had been on was a fire road running in the same general direction just a few miles up.  Me… I’m resorting to making my own rules.  I mean, what’s the big deal with this PCT thing anyway.  I’m sure I once read something about taking The Road Less Traveled…

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