welcome to the haikutimes
Issue #-4, Colorado National Monument, March 1984
Journal excerpts by Jonathan, Drawings by Jonathan and Cass Adams, photographs by Nick Brown
Photo by Nick Brown. Jonathan Machen and Cass Adams
March 22, 1985
I bought some food tubes and freeze-dried food before my anthropology class for this upcoming spring break backpacking trip. It is very clear and cold today - the mountains and trees are sharply defined. A great clarity of vision accompanies these spring winds. I sat outside by Old Main for an hour and drew. It felt wonderful. A woman came up to me and asked if I would like to join a Buddhist chanting cult: “World Peace Through Individual Happiness”. I entertained her for a short while. I was very congenial towards her.
Self-timed photo by Nick Brown: Jonathan Machen, Nick Brown and Cass Adams
Art History was fascinating. We covered Picasso again. He produced so much work, and was so diverse. His way of expression is the most wonderful thing! He considered the pictorial form to be equally important to what he was portraying. This is an important point!
Drawing by Jonathan, "Early Morning, March 24, 1985"
I also made granola this afternoon. I hope this trip goes ok. Nick just called, and I’m going to go down to his house to look at maps and discuss our route, planning what feels like an epic backpacking trip in BLM Wilderness, near Colorado National Monument (outside of Grand Junction). Cass Adams is coming along with us as well.
Drawing by Jonathan, "First lunch stop above Knowles Canyon, March 24, 1985"
I did make it down to Nick’s house to look at the maps. We talked about a possible route (in what was, at the time, BLM wilderness - now designated the Black Ridge Canyons Wilderness - adjacent to Colorado National Monument). I was uncomfortable with his proposal of a long round trip encompassing several canyons. It is true that I am overly cautious and worrisome at times, while he is much more confident. “We can’t be married, Jon, but we can still be friends”, he told me. After coming back home, I stayed up until 1am trying to get completely packed. I have a huge pack. It must weigh over 70 lbs. That is what Nick’s pack weighed, and mine feels heavier. I think I have planned fairly well - I have two bottles of fuel, and enough food for seven nights.
Drawing by Jonathan, "March 24, evening"
March 23, 1985
We made it to Colorado National Monument, arriving without mishap at a campground overlooking Grand Junction. Going over Vail Pass was slightly scary, with patches of ice on the road. My Volkswagen seems a little unstable in the snow.
Photo by Nick. "Cass on an unknown arch"
The land here in the Monument, and the view I am seeing right now, is beautiful. Red rocks and sand, Junipers and Russian Thistle. I can see across the valley to the Little Book Cliffs: great triangles of eroded sandstone, full of color. The clouds are a dark grey/blue; the sky is pink at the horizon, washing out to blue towards the top.
Drawing by Jonathan, "March 25, morning"
March 24, 1985
Finally, we are down in Knowles Canyon, resting our tired backs, which have been subjected to the weight of huge and heavy packs. Mine is perhaps the heaviest I’ve ever carried. Anyway, this morning was beautiful. I slept well, for a change. After breakfast I made a quick trip to the edge of the campground overlooking the road to do a drawing. After packing up, we drove about seven miles of paved road, then turned off on a dirt road, traveling for another five miles, catching glimpses of the higher elevations of the monument: snow-covered and looking cold.
Drawing by Jonathan. "Looking up Knowles Canyon from our point of entrance"
We made yet another turn which brought us to the proximity of Knowles Canyon, and made a guess as to where to start. We loaded up, and then laughed at ourselves because we looked so loaded down. Nick took a timed picture of us.
Drawing by Jonathan, "Lunch spot, March 25"
We began to travel up to a butte we thought we needed to get over, in order to reach a road, that would eventually lead us to the trail - or route, as there is no trail - into Knowles Canyon. The map wasn’t much help. We could see the canyon, but when we went to where we though we could descend, we found it to be impassable. So we got back on the road for another mile or so to find another way in. After bushwhacking more, we tried several times to find a way in, but were again thwarted. Finally, Nick found a way down. I had to take my pack off and hand it to them in one steep section.
Drawing by Jonathan, "Lunch spot, view up canyon, March 25"
At this point we could see well into the canyon. A thin ribbon of water curled around Cottonwoods and Sage at the bottom and light was striking the south-facing wall. We threaded our way downwards over loose rocks, sand and logs, until we finally reached the bottom. It felt good to realize we had made at least the first part of our route.
Pencil Drawing by Cass, 3-25-85"
The Sandstone of these canyon walls shimmers with varied hues of pinks, browns, reds and whites. This is slickrock country. The junipers contrast beautifully to the walls, their wildly expressive limbs a visual counterpart to the smoothness of the rock. It is wonderful to be in a canyon!
Photo by Nick, "Jonathan drawing, March 25"
March 25, 1985
Morning. We camped on a slight rise above the stream under a very large Juniper. The moon is at an extreme crescent. Seeing the moon over the canyon rim last night, combined with the open sky and cool air, made me feel especially vulnerable. I felt at the same time sorrow and joy, or wonder, feeling that what we have here on Earth is infinitely precious and sacred.
Photo by Nick Brown, "Jonathan and Cass hiking down Knowles Canyon"
I just hiked back up the canyon to the point where we came down, collected water from the stream, and did a sketch. It was quiet, with the exception of a Canyon Wren and some other birds I can’t identify. The sky is completely clear.
Photo by Nick Brown, "Spires, evening"
Evening. The sun has gone down, and we have found ourselves situated on a grand ledge, overlooking the confluence of Knowles and another canyon. I am happy we are camped here. There is a vast space here, made so by the starkness of the walls and scarcity of vegetation. We began hiking by 11am this morning. Our plan was to leave early, but since we were all having fun with various modes of creativity - Cass and I were sketching, and Nick was taking photos - we took awhile to get going. We hiked for about 1.5 hours. I was feeling fairly tired. my legs are fine, and my hips are also doing ok. It’s just my shoulders and back, which are showing some evidence of strain.
Drawing by Cass Adams, "Knowles Canyon"
We stopped for lunch at another confluence. I had fallen behind, and when I came around the corner I found Nick jumping from rock to rock in the nude, his skin glistening with water. I followed suit, cleaning the sweat and grime from my body, and felt great afterwards, drying off in the sun. We managed to remain here for a good two hours. I did two large sketches, one looking up the canyon, one looking down. After the break hiking felt much easier, as I seemed to have much more energy, and my back even felt good. I hiked way ahead of Nick and Cass until we came to the spot where we are now camped. I set up my tent and made dinner in the last light of the day.
Drawing by Jonathan, "March 26, looking into Knowles Canyon"
March 26, 1985
This morning it began raining shortly after we woke up. Cass made a fire up on a ledge, and we ate breakfast and boiled drinking water. The sun eventually came out, and we dried out the tent, but didn’t start hiking until around noon. At first it was sunny, even hot. My legs felt really tired. After we made the journey around several bends of the canyon, Cass broke out his harmonica and played while walking, and it began to rain agin. We crouched under a small overhang and laughed about the moisture. After I put all my rain gear on, the sun came out again. Of course!
Photo by Nick Brown, "Sand and Weeds, Knowles Canyon"
We began to encounter new elements of our desert canyon. We found ourselves in the middle of harder, grayer rock, flanking the stream on either side. We pressed on, and soon made it to the confluence of Knowles Canyon and the Colorado River, where great silvery Cottonwood skeletons stood, silhouetted in front of the yellows and muted greens of the grasses and bushes. The terrain opened up here, and we could see a glorious expanse of sky - at that point more grey than blue - which complimented the yellow grasses. The Colorado river was a rich brown. There are train tracks on the opposite side of the river, and several trains cruised by, making a thunderous racket, reverberating against the cliff wall. The iron wheels, clacking on the track, made a stunning cacophony: an audial counterpoint to the geese flying overhead.
Photo by Nick Brown, "Cliffs, Knowles Canyon"
It was such a nice spot we decided to set up camp. Nick went off for a short hike to look for routes out of the canyon, and I did a bunch of sketches. I have started to get concerned about our future course of action. It is now Tuesday night, and we have three days left. We could not see any way out of Knowles Canyon to the rim, which was our original plan. Tomorrow we might find a way. My suggestion of going back up Knowles Canyon was rebuffed.
Photo by Nick Brown, "Leaving Knowles Canyon"
March 27, 1985
I’m sitting inside my North Face Dome tent, which is now being snowed upon. Last night I did not sleep well. The wind was whistling through the silvery trees, hitting our tent with great force. We are in Mee Canyon at the moment, having spent the day, starting at 9:15, hiking alongside the Colorado River. We were informed by a ranger back in Grand Junction before we started that passage alongside the river was impossible in places, so on two occasions we hiked up high, close to the cliffs, going cross-country or following game trails. I felt pretty secure the whole time.
Photo by Nick Brown, "Walking towards the Colorado River"
We walked alongside the river during ‘cliff intermissions’ with the wind still blowing. The clouds were closing the space above us, and the muted colors shone through everything. It was intensely beautiful. Around 11:30 we ate lunch on a sandstone bench, looking at the final sloping cliffside we needed to negotiate, before going into Mee Canyon. This final hike made me feel very tired. My legs and upper thighs are sore. Finally we made it into Mee Canyon - the wind was howling - and we hiked up a short way, where we are now.
Drawing by Jonathan, "Looking down the Colorado River, March 26, 1985"
The clouds looked especially ominous, and we quickly set up the tent. As soon as we did so, it began to snow. At the moment, it is coming down quite heavily. Looking outside, the sky is a cold white, and the cliffs are just barely discernible. The snow is wet and heavy. I am worried, though I am not showing it. We don’t even know if we can get out via Mee Canyon. Tomorrow, if it is better weather, we shall go looking for a way up and out. Nick and Cass don’t want to go back up Knowles, saying it would be boring.
Drawing by Jonathan, "March 26, 1985"
March 28, 1985
What is labeled ‘Black Rocks’ on the map, down around the Colorado River, are more of a luminescent purple or violet, their rounded shapes bubbling on the bank and in the center of the river. They were quite fantastic as we walked by them. The wind was blowing strongly at our backs, and yellow grasses were waving against the grey sky and red sandstone.
Photo by Nick
It’s morning now. We have been in the tent since the early evening yesterday. Tempers have been flaring on account of our cramped space and discussions about what to do next. Since they didn’t bring their stoves, Nick and Cass are using my stove, so the fuel is going faster than expected. Nick has also insisted on bringing all his gear inside the tent, while my and Cass’s stuff is outside. It is still snowing, with little sign of letting up.
Drawing by Jonathan, "March 26, 1985, The sky is blue with a finge of yellow from a garmet a grass which cloaks the earth, we have this yellow All around us."
I had lots of weird dreams last night. In one, Nick was wearing a full-length sealskin jacket, which he said his mom gave him because he was always cold. I was in a building where the walls were bending over because of the wind. I also saw Polly Talbott, who was intensely beautiful, but who barely noticed me at all.
Drawing by Jonathan, "March 26, 1985,lunch."
Now it’s about 1:15pm. I am beneath an overhang, looking at the Colorado River winding around a corner, with Mee Canyon opening up to greet this arc. I walked about a mile and a half along the river, looking for a way to exit the canyon. Nick and Cass took a different direction. The snow stopped falling, and we got out of the tent and built a fire. I ate some granola and did another drawing. I am pretty anxious. If only the sun would come out! My feet are quite wet. The birds, however, are twittering and chirping about. They seem happy enough, for even though there is snow on the ground, it’s melting a little.
Drawing by Jonathan, "March 26, at the mouth of Mee Canyon."
Evening - already my mood has changed, most likely because of the sight of blue sky opening above us. I have just eaten the last of my beans for dinner, cooking them on the fire. Nicholas came walking by just as I was arriving at camp. He went farther than I did, and says he found a way up the cliff, up to the rim. From here he thinks we can walk back too the car on the mesa top, which I think is about 15 miles away.
Drawing by Jonathan, "March 28, Mee Canyon in the snow."
Drawing by Jonathan, "March 28, A white and heavy sky and a sombre ground."
The area around the fire ring is a sea of mud. Cass is cutting a potato at the moment. He is wearing wool German army pants, muddy cross-country ski boots, and a blue and green sweater over my down vest. There are ashes in his short hair. He and Nick are arguing over how to cut a potato correctly. Nick is upset because Cass put all the veggies into their long-cooking rice (in the water) so now they will be soggy. We have been eating popcorn. I am glad I brought meals that don’t take an hour to cook.
Drawing by Jonathan, "March 28, Mee Canyon"
March 29, 1985
This morning, it began to snow again. I slept very soundly. The snow stopped just long enough for use gather our gear up. The tent is soaked. As soon as we had rounded the corner out of Mee Canyon, it really began to come down. We hiked the distance to the spot Nick said he had climbed out, up a large gully. At the top of the gully was a narrow log, propped up against the remaining cliffside, maybe 20 feet up. The snow came down harder. Nick tried to get up first, with his pack on, and was forced to take it off. We tried, but failed, to push his pack up to the ledge below the log.
Photo by Nick, "Along the Colorado River"
He then tried to pull it up with some string he had, but the string broke. They couldn’t even lift my pack, and wanted me to take my heavy stuff out. At this point, it was still snowing hard, so we decided to abort the mission to get out at that spot, and the decision was made to continue to hike alongside the steep bank of the Colorado River for another two miles, hoping to access some dirt roads that came down to that point. I wasn’t happy about hiking alongside and above the river in the snow, but we forged ahead. We finally reached a spot where we saw we could climb out to what looked like a road on the map, and it continued to blizzard; we walked for another two hours, through deep snow and mud, before finally deciding to set the tent up.
Photo by Nick, "Campsite on the frozen plateau"
March 31, 1985
Drawing by Jonathan, "The inside of a tent on a very snowy morning"
As the day ended, we attempted to dry our boots and socks with a fire that we managed to start. Cass and Nick cooked their meal over it as well. It was bitterly cold all night. All of our water froze, as did our boots. My socks, though, kept dry in the bottom of my sleeping bag. I crawled into my bag even before Nick and Cass had finished their meal, with all my clothes on. Still, everywhere my body touched the ground, I was cold. I think both Nick and Cass were cold, too. We all woke up around 5:50 when Nick unzipped the tent fly, looked out, and exclaimed, “alright!” meaning the skies were clear. We built up the fire again, and watched the sun come up and over the nearby ridge.
Drawing by Jonathan, "Nicholas Brown, March 30, 1985"
The light reached us, gradually filling the valley between us and the Little Book Cliffs, which we could once again see. Nick ran around with his camera, shooting more than a roll of film, documenting the sunrise. The warmth finally reached us, giving us energy to take the tent down and try and dry it a little. We briefly discussed playing hackey sack, but I was intent on hitting the trail, so I left first, tramping in the deep snow and mud.
Photo by Nick, "The long hike out to the car"
We finally made it to a plateau of about 6,900 feet (coming up from 2000 feet at the river). Some confusion about the proper direction was allayed by the map and compass, which suggested we were heading in the general direction of the car. We slogged through the snow all day, finally reaching the cliff we knew the car was parked nearby. When we reached the car, the sun was just disappearing behind a hill. Unable to envision camping yet another night, we tried to put the chains on the VW in hopes of making a quick exit, but we quickly found out how difficult driving out was going to be. The car sank in the mud, and the chains didn’t seem to help. We bottomed out in the first corner, floundering about, unable to make much progress. Just as darkness descended, the car got stuck for good. We decided to just try and sleep in the car, not wanting to set up the wet tent again.
Photo by Nick, "Tree shadows on the snowy plateau"
At 5am, after a night of almost no sleep, we began moving. We had to scrape a thick layer of frost off the inside of the windows, and break loose the tires from the mud. This took a good deal of jostling about, going back and forth. Finally we got out of the rut, and with Cass and Nick both standing on the back bumper of the car, we made some progress. Finally we came to a place where another car had tried to drive in during the previous day, but had turned around and left. The frozen ruts actually proved helpful, and by driving over them, we eventually made it to the main road.
Photo by Nick, "Snowy Tree on the plateau"
Once in Grand Junction, we stopped for breakfast. Bread was served to us in flower pots. We each had a full flower pot, as well as eggs and bacon. We looked mighty beleaguered, unshaven and sunburned. The rest of the drive home was snowy, but we made it without mishap.
Drawing by Jonathan, "Frozen landscape, March 30, 1985"
Just as soon as I home, Jim Frey called. Them Mom and Dad Called. Then Michael Conti called, and I also talked to Kathy. It’s nice to know people think about me.
Photo by Nick Brown, "March 30, 1985"
Journal excerpts by Jonathan, Drawings by Jonathan and Cass Adams, photographs by Nick Brown
Photo by Nick Brown. Jonathan Machen and Cass Adams
March 22, 1985
I bought some food tubes and freeze-dried food before my anthropology class for this upcoming spring break backpacking trip. It is very clear and cold today - the mountains and trees are sharply defined. A great clarity of vision accompanies these spring winds. I sat outside by Old Main for an hour and drew. It felt wonderful. A woman came up to me and asked if I would like to join a Buddhist chanting cult: “World Peace Through Individual Happiness”. I entertained her for a short while. I was very congenial towards her.
Self-timed photo by Nick Brown: Jonathan Machen, Nick Brown and Cass Adams
Art History was fascinating. We covered Picasso again. He produced so much work, and was so diverse. His way of expression is the most wonderful thing! He considered the pictorial form to be equally important to what he was portraying. This is an important point!
Drawing by Jonathan, "Early Morning, March 24, 1985"
I also made granola this afternoon. I hope this trip goes ok. Nick just called, and I’m going to go down to his house to look at maps and discuss our route, planning what feels like an epic backpacking trip in BLM Wilderness, near Colorado National Monument (outside of Grand Junction). Cass Adams is coming along with us as well.
Drawing by Jonathan, "First lunch stop above Knowles Canyon, March 24, 1985"
I did make it down to Nick’s house to look at the maps. We talked about a possible route (in what was, at the time, BLM wilderness - now designated the Black Ridge Canyons Wilderness - adjacent to Colorado National Monument). I was uncomfortable with his proposal of a long round trip encompassing several canyons. It is true that I am overly cautious and worrisome at times, while he is much more confident. “We can’t be married, Jon, but we can still be friends”, he told me. After coming back home, I stayed up until 1am trying to get completely packed. I have a huge pack. It must weigh over 70 lbs. That is what Nick’s pack weighed, and mine feels heavier. I think I have planned fairly well - I have two bottles of fuel, and enough food for seven nights.
Drawing by Jonathan, "March 24, evening"
March 23, 1985
We made it to Colorado National Monument, arriving without mishap at a campground overlooking Grand Junction. Going over Vail Pass was slightly scary, with patches of ice on the road. My Volkswagen seems a little unstable in the snow.
Photo by Nick. "Cass on an unknown arch"
The land here in the Monument, and the view I am seeing right now, is beautiful. Red rocks and sand, Junipers and Russian Thistle. I can see across the valley to the Little Book Cliffs: great triangles of eroded sandstone, full of color. The clouds are a dark grey/blue; the sky is pink at the horizon, washing out to blue towards the top.
Drawing by Jonathan, "March 25, morning"
March 24, 1985
Finally, we are down in Knowles Canyon, resting our tired backs, which have been subjected to the weight of huge and heavy packs. Mine is perhaps the heaviest I’ve ever carried. Anyway, this morning was beautiful. I slept well, for a change. After breakfast I made a quick trip to the edge of the campground overlooking the road to do a drawing. After packing up, we drove about seven miles of paved road, then turned off on a dirt road, traveling for another five miles, catching glimpses of the higher elevations of the monument: snow-covered and looking cold.
Drawing by Jonathan. "Looking up Knowles Canyon from our point of entrance"
We made yet another turn which brought us to the proximity of Knowles Canyon, and made a guess as to where to start. We loaded up, and then laughed at ourselves because we looked so loaded down. Nick took a timed picture of us.
Drawing by Jonathan, "Lunch spot, March 25"
We began to travel up to a butte we thought we needed to get over, in order to reach a road, that would eventually lead us to the trail - or route, as there is no trail - into Knowles Canyon. The map wasn’t much help. We could see the canyon, but when we went to where we though we could descend, we found it to be impassable. So we got back on the road for another mile or so to find another way in. After bushwhacking more, we tried several times to find a way in, but were again thwarted. Finally, Nick found a way down. I had to take my pack off and hand it to them in one steep section.
Drawing by Jonathan, "Lunch spot, view up canyon, March 25"
At this point we could see well into the canyon. A thin ribbon of water curled around Cottonwoods and Sage at the bottom and light was striking the south-facing wall. We threaded our way downwards over loose rocks, sand and logs, until we finally reached the bottom. It felt good to realize we had made at least the first part of our route.
Pencil Drawing by Cass, 3-25-85"
The Sandstone of these canyon walls shimmers with varied hues of pinks, browns, reds and whites. This is slickrock country. The junipers contrast beautifully to the walls, their wildly expressive limbs a visual counterpart to the smoothness of the rock. It is wonderful to be in a canyon!
Photo by Nick, "Jonathan drawing, March 25"
March 25, 1985
Morning. We camped on a slight rise above the stream under a very large Juniper. The moon is at an extreme crescent. Seeing the moon over the canyon rim last night, combined with the open sky and cool air, made me feel especially vulnerable. I felt at the same time sorrow and joy, or wonder, feeling that what we have here on Earth is infinitely precious and sacred.
Photo by Nick Brown, "Jonathan and Cass hiking down Knowles Canyon"
I just hiked back up the canyon to the point where we came down, collected water from the stream, and did a sketch. It was quiet, with the exception of a Canyon Wren and some other birds I can’t identify. The sky is completely clear.
Photo by Nick Brown, "Spires, evening"
Evening. The sun has gone down, and we have found ourselves situated on a grand ledge, overlooking the confluence of Knowles and another canyon. I am happy we are camped here. There is a vast space here, made so by the starkness of the walls and scarcity of vegetation. We began hiking by 11am this morning. Our plan was to leave early, but since we were all having fun with various modes of creativity - Cass and I were sketching, and Nick was taking photos - we took awhile to get going. We hiked for about 1.5 hours. I was feeling fairly tired. my legs are fine, and my hips are also doing ok. It’s just my shoulders and back, which are showing some evidence of strain.
Drawing by Cass Adams, "Knowles Canyon"
We stopped for lunch at another confluence. I had fallen behind, and when I came around the corner I found Nick jumping from rock to rock in the nude, his skin glistening with water. I followed suit, cleaning the sweat and grime from my body, and felt great afterwards, drying off in the sun. We managed to remain here for a good two hours. I did two large sketches, one looking up the canyon, one looking down. After the break hiking felt much easier, as I seemed to have much more energy, and my back even felt good. I hiked way ahead of Nick and Cass until we came to the spot where we are now camped. I set up my tent and made dinner in the last light of the day.
Drawing by Jonathan, "March 26, looking into Knowles Canyon"
March 26, 1985
This morning it began raining shortly after we woke up. Cass made a fire up on a ledge, and we ate breakfast and boiled drinking water. The sun eventually came out, and we dried out the tent, but didn’t start hiking until around noon. At first it was sunny, even hot. My legs felt really tired. After we made the journey around several bends of the canyon, Cass broke out his harmonica and played while walking, and it began to rain agin. We crouched under a small overhang and laughed about the moisture. After I put all my rain gear on, the sun came out again. Of course!
Photo by Nick Brown, "Sand and Weeds, Knowles Canyon"
We began to encounter new elements of our desert canyon. We found ourselves in the middle of harder, grayer rock, flanking the stream on either side. We pressed on, and soon made it to the confluence of Knowles Canyon and the Colorado River, where great silvery Cottonwood skeletons stood, silhouetted in front of the yellows and muted greens of the grasses and bushes. The terrain opened up here, and we could see a glorious expanse of sky - at that point more grey than blue - which complimented the yellow grasses. The Colorado river was a rich brown. There are train tracks on the opposite side of the river, and several trains cruised by, making a thunderous racket, reverberating against the cliff wall. The iron wheels, clacking on the track, made a stunning cacophony: an audial counterpoint to the geese flying overhead.
Photo by Nick Brown, "Cliffs, Knowles Canyon"
It was such a nice spot we decided to set up camp. Nick went off for a short hike to look for routes out of the canyon, and I did a bunch of sketches. I have started to get concerned about our future course of action. It is now Tuesday night, and we have three days left. We could not see any way out of Knowles Canyon to the rim, which was our original plan. Tomorrow we might find a way. My suggestion of going back up Knowles Canyon was rebuffed.
Photo by Nick Brown, "Leaving Knowles Canyon"
March 27, 1985
I’m sitting inside my North Face Dome tent, which is now being snowed upon. Last night I did not sleep well. The wind was whistling through the silvery trees, hitting our tent with great force. We are in Mee Canyon at the moment, having spent the day, starting at 9:15, hiking alongside the Colorado River. We were informed by a ranger back in Grand Junction before we started that passage alongside the river was impossible in places, so on two occasions we hiked up high, close to the cliffs, going cross-country or following game trails. I felt pretty secure the whole time.
Photo by Nick Brown, "Walking towards the Colorado River"
We walked alongside the river during ‘cliff intermissions’ with the wind still blowing. The clouds were closing the space above us, and the muted colors shone through everything. It was intensely beautiful. Around 11:30 we ate lunch on a sandstone bench, looking at the final sloping cliffside we needed to negotiate, before going into Mee Canyon. This final hike made me feel very tired. My legs and upper thighs are sore. Finally we made it into Mee Canyon - the wind was howling - and we hiked up a short way, where we are now.
Drawing by Jonathan, "Looking down the Colorado River, March 26, 1985"
The clouds looked especially ominous, and we quickly set up the tent. As soon as we did so, it began to snow. At the moment, it is coming down quite heavily. Looking outside, the sky is a cold white, and the cliffs are just barely discernible. The snow is wet and heavy. I am worried, though I am not showing it. We don’t even know if we can get out via Mee Canyon. Tomorrow, if it is better weather, we shall go looking for a way up and out. Nick and Cass don’t want to go back up Knowles, saying it would be boring.
Drawing by Jonathan, "March 26, 1985"
March 28, 1985
What is labeled ‘Black Rocks’ on the map, down around the Colorado River, are more of a luminescent purple or violet, their rounded shapes bubbling on the bank and in the center of the river. They were quite fantastic as we walked by them. The wind was blowing strongly at our backs, and yellow grasses were waving against the grey sky and red sandstone.
Photo by Nick
It’s morning now. We have been in the tent since the early evening yesterday. Tempers have been flaring on account of our cramped space and discussions about what to do next. Since they didn’t bring their stoves, Nick and Cass are using my stove, so the fuel is going faster than expected. Nick has also insisted on bringing all his gear inside the tent, while my and Cass’s stuff is outside. It is still snowing, with little sign of letting up.
Drawing by Jonathan, "March 26, 1985, The sky is blue with a finge of yellow from a garmet a grass which cloaks the earth, we have this yellow All around us."
I had lots of weird dreams last night. In one, Nick was wearing a full-length sealskin jacket, which he said his mom gave him because he was always cold. I was in a building where the walls were bending over because of the wind. I also saw Polly Talbott, who was intensely beautiful, but who barely noticed me at all.
Drawing by Jonathan, "March 26, 1985,lunch."
Now it’s about 1:15pm. I am beneath an overhang, looking at the Colorado River winding around a corner, with Mee Canyon opening up to greet this arc. I walked about a mile and a half along the river, looking for a way to exit the canyon. Nick and Cass took a different direction. The snow stopped falling, and we got out of the tent and built a fire. I ate some granola and did another drawing. I am pretty anxious. If only the sun would come out! My feet are quite wet. The birds, however, are twittering and chirping about. They seem happy enough, for even though there is snow on the ground, it’s melting a little.
Drawing by Jonathan, "March 26, at the mouth of Mee Canyon."
Evening - already my mood has changed, most likely because of the sight of blue sky opening above us. I have just eaten the last of my beans for dinner, cooking them on the fire. Nicholas came walking by just as I was arriving at camp. He went farther than I did, and says he found a way up the cliff, up to the rim. From here he thinks we can walk back too the car on the mesa top, which I think is about 15 miles away.
Drawing by Jonathan, "March 28, Mee Canyon in the snow."
Drawing by Jonathan, "March 28, A white and heavy sky and a sombre ground."
The area around the fire ring is a sea of mud. Cass is cutting a potato at the moment. He is wearing wool German army pants, muddy cross-country ski boots, and a blue and green sweater over my down vest. There are ashes in his short hair. He and Nick are arguing over how to cut a potato correctly. Nick is upset because Cass put all the veggies into their long-cooking rice (in the water) so now they will be soggy. We have been eating popcorn. I am glad I brought meals that don’t take an hour to cook.
Drawing by Jonathan, "March 28, Mee Canyon"
March 29, 1985
This morning, it began to snow again. I slept very soundly. The snow stopped just long enough for use gather our gear up. The tent is soaked. As soon as we had rounded the corner out of Mee Canyon, it really began to come down. We hiked the distance to the spot Nick said he had climbed out, up a large gully. At the top of the gully was a narrow log, propped up against the remaining cliffside, maybe 20 feet up. The snow came down harder. Nick tried to get up first, with his pack on, and was forced to take it off. We tried, but failed, to push his pack up to the ledge below the log.
Photo by Nick, "Along the Colorado River"
He then tried to pull it up with some string he had, but the string broke. They couldn’t even lift my pack, and wanted me to take my heavy stuff out. At this point, it was still snowing hard, so we decided to abort the mission to get out at that spot, and the decision was made to continue to hike alongside the steep bank of the Colorado River for another two miles, hoping to access some dirt roads that came down to that point. I wasn’t happy about hiking alongside and above the river in the snow, but we forged ahead. We finally reached a spot where we saw we could climb out to what looked like a road on the map, and it continued to blizzard; we walked for another two hours, through deep snow and mud, before finally deciding to set the tent up.
Photo by Nick, "Campsite on the frozen plateau"
March 31, 1985
Drawing by Jonathan, "The inside of a tent on a very snowy morning"
As the day ended, we attempted to dry our boots and socks with a fire that we managed to start. Cass and Nick cooked their meal over it as well. It was bitterly cold all night. All of our water froze, as did our boots. My socks, though, kept dry in the bottom of my sleeping bag. I crawled into my bag even before Nick and Cass had finished their meal, with all my clothes on. Still, everywhere my body touched the ground, I was cold. I think both Nick and Cass were cold, too. We all woke up around 5:50 when Nick unzipped the tent fly, looked out, and exclaimed, “alright!” meaning the skies were clear. We built up the fire again, and watched the sun come up and over the nearby ridge.
Drawing by Jonathan, "Nicholas Brown, March 30, 1985"
The light reached us, gradually filling the valley between us and the Little Book Cliffs, which we could once again see. Nick ran around with his camera, shooting more than a roll of film, documenting the sunrise. The warmth finally reached us, giving us energy to take the tent down and try and dry it a little. We briefly discussed playing hackey sack, but I was intent on hitting the trail, so I left first, tramping in the deep snow and mud.
Photo by Nick, "The long hike out to the car"
We finally made it to a plateau of about 6,900 feet (coming up from 2000 feet at the river). Some confusion about the proper direction was allayed by the map and compass, which suggested we were heading in the general direction of the car. We slogged through the snow all day, finally reaching the cliff we knew the car was parked nearby. When we reached the car, the sun was just disappearing behind a hill. Unable to envision camping yet another night, we tried to put the chains on the VW in hopes of making a quick exit, but we quickly found out how difficult driving out was going to be. The car sank in the mud, and the chains didn’t seem to help. We bottomed out in the first corner, floundering about, unable to make much progress. Just as darkness descended, the car got stuck for good. We decided to just try and sleep in the car, not wanting to set up the wet tent again.
Photo by Nick, "Tree shadows on the snowy plateau"
At 5am, after a night of almost no sleep, we began moving. We had to scrape a thick layer of frost off the inside of the windows, and break loose the tires from the mud. This took a good deal of jostling about, going back and forth. Finally we got out of the rut, and with Cass and Nick both standing on the back bumper of the car, we made some progress. Finally we came to a place where another car had tried to drive in during the previous day, but had turned around and left. The frozen ruts actually proved helpful, and by driving over them, we eventually made it to the main road.
Photo by Nick, "Snowy Tree on the plateau"
Once in Grand Junction, we stopped for breakfast. Bread was served to us in flower pots. We each had a full flower pot, as well as eggs and bacon. We looked mighty beleaguered, unshaven and sunburned. The rest of the drive home was snowy, but we made it without mishap.
Drawing by Jonathan, "Frozen landscape, March 30, 1985"
Just as soon as I home, Jim Frey called. Them Mom and Dad Called. Then Michael Conti called, and I also talked to Kathy. It’s nice to know people think about me.
Photo by Nick Brown, "March 30, 1985"
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jonathan machen
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jonathan machen