Cheba Hut is my favorite sandwich shop in the world. A month ago, when I was in Colorado, I was thrilled to be able to eat there twice in a day. Last year in Las Vegas, I was also thrilled to discover there was one in town. Naturally we stopped.
Since the closest Cheba Hut is literally a thousand miles from us, I thought maybe I could make one of their sandwiches myself. I toasted some French bread, added some deli ham to the grill, threw on some bacon, sliced a few pickles, melted cheese, and slathered mayo and seasoning over everything. The result was…
… not that bad. But it definitely wasn’t Cheba Hut. The bread was all wrong, and frankly the bread is a major part of the experience. So it’s back to the drawing board. Maybe I can come up with a concoction that’s a little closer to the real thing. Until then, I just have to wait for another trip to Colorado or Nevada…
“Dad,” Kyra said a few months ago, “I’ve never been backpacking. Can you take me sometime?”
Of course! We talked about some options, and given her limited time off work, we settled on “something in Utah”. Last year’s epic Canyonlands trip with Thom came to mind, and I worked out a route through the Needles District (which he and I hadn’t explored). I scouted campgrounds, presented my plan to Kyra for her approval, and went to make arrangements for the backcountry permits. I was dismayed to learn that permits for Canyonlands are available in the spring, sell out almost immediately, and thus weren’t available for an October trip. Back to the drawing board.
Zion, it turns out, has a completely different reservation system (why?) and permits are available a month prior to departure. Again, they’re snatched up immediately, but I managed to get in the three-minute window and snag the ones I wanted. We were set for a trip to Zion.
Our first morning dawned with a crystal-clear blue sky and temperatures in the 50s (it would warm up later in the day) so we headed to the Zion shuttle station. Only the official NPS buses are allowed to run up and down Zion Canyon, so you have to wait in line to jump on a bus. And what a line it was! It felt like a morning at Disneyland…
This photo doesn’t even do it justice– the line snaked back and forth well outside the frame. We made our way through this morass of people for about 45 minutes before finally boarding a bus. That adjusted my plans for the day a bit; we’d have to take these incredible crowds into account when considering the timing of everything. I guess I’m used to smaller crowds on my backpacking trips in late September and early October, but in southern Utah the temperatures hover in the 70s and the days are beautiful, so people gravitate there (much more than, say, the North Cascades).
As we wound our way through the canyon and eventually hit our first trail of the day, I was in awe of the scenery. Glacier has incredible vistas of valleys and mountains, and Zion mirrors that with canyons and sandstone cliffs. Here’s a view south through the canyon:
These sheer orange cliffs are stunning…
… Especially when you’re at the base looking up.
We’d originally planned to hike the Narrows. Thom and I made that hike nearly twenty years ago, and I brought the whole fam on our 2015 road trip, so I was hoping to repeat that awesome trek through the water. However, the water was running high: nearly three times its normal flow, with a water temperature around 50 degrees. So instead of ankle- or perhaps knee-deep cool water, the Virgin River was a torrent of chest-deep frigid water. In the words of the park ranger who’s navigated the Narrows hundreds, of time, the hike was “outside her fun zone”. Instead, we took a few smaller hikes in Zion Canyon.
As the afternoon waned, we had to make our way to our first campsite. It was in a neighboring area called Wildcat Canyon, which was advertised as having “outstanding views of Zion Canyon”. However, as we traversed the trail, we were disappointed. Large outcroppings of rock blocked our view of that area.
Nonetheless, we found a good site and set up camp. It was a cool area, despite the lack of views as promised.
Kyra did well hiking that day. I think we covered around eight miles.
The night was chilly (probably around 40 degrees) but we were both cozy in our sleeping bags and tent. It was Kyra’s first night in a tent that wasn’t in a campground, and as we enjoyed some breakfast and hot cocoa in the cool morning air, she remarked that it was pretty awesome.
Our backcountry permit for the next night was in Kolob Canyon, but we learned that part of the road had washed out and we weren’t able to get to the trailhead for the area. There’s an alternate trail that goes “the long way around”, but it was something like ten miles each way, and wouldn’t fit in our schedule. Instead, we decided to hike a different part of Kolob Canyon and then head home a bit early.
But first, we donned our eclipse glasses.
The annular eclipse occurred while we were driving up to the Kolob area, so we pulled over at a little roadside stop and spent about twenty minutes admiring the celestial phenomenon. It was funny to see other people stopped alongside us, or just along the shoulder of the road, staring through their eclipse glasses.
Kyra was impressed.
Although we weren’t in the area where the full “ring of fire” was visible, we were close. It was cool to watch, and I’m looking forward to next year’s total solar eclipse.
We continued up to Kolob and started our hike of the canyon. The trees were in full autumn color, and it was an absolutely beautiful hike.
We covered about six miles, stopping frequently to admire the sandstone and the leaves.
As we approached the end of the out-and-back trail, it looked like it might slip into a slot canyon. Kyra was excited because she’s never hiked in a slot canyon, but it turned out the trail simply ended abruptly. We hefted our packs, turned around, and returned the way we’d come. By the end of the hike, she was pretty worn out. We’d done nearly twenty miles in two days, which is far more than she’s accustomed to walking. Good for her!
We hopped back in the car and headed north, stopping for dinner at Olive Garden and absolutely gorging on breadsticks. It had been a great trip, and hopefully one that convinced her we should go backpacking again. Although the scenery was stunning, my favorite part was just spending time with my favorite girl.
I’m always looking for excuses to invite friends over to the house, but Pepper is usually hesitant because it means planning a meal or something. It’s a little weird to invite someone just to hang out and chat, so food needs to be involved somehow. A meal is a lot of work, and there are food allergies and picky eaters and whatnot. But everyone likes popcorn, right? So we decided to start a new tradition called Sunday Night Popcorn, which is exactly what it sounds like. Each week we’ll invite someone over for an hour or so, and munch on some popcorn while we talk.
For this to work, we need amazing popcorn. Enter the Atom Popper! Recommended by my friend Mike, this lightweight, funny-shaped aluminum (titanium?) pan does a great job of popping every kernel quickly and easily. Douse it with butter and salt, and we’re good to go.
We’ve been doing some testing to dial in the oil and salt just right, and then we’ll start hosting Sunday Night Popcorn. Woo hoo!
I love the change of season as we shift from summer into autumn. Although I really enjoy a hot summer day on the lake, there’s something special about the crisp, cool days that follow. The mountainsides come alive with brilliant shifts in color as the trees prepare to drop their leaves. There’s always a wonderful mix of yellows, oranges, and reds against the constant backdrop of dark green in all the pine, fir, and spruce trees.
So, as always in October, driving down good ol’ Highway 35 is a treat. Here’s a shot out the car window at 50 mph:
There’s one tree in particular perhaps a mile north of us that has a fantastic mix of colors. I haven’t seen any other tree in the area act like this one, changing color in stages:
Soon the larch surrounding our house will change to their signature golden hue. It’s always a treat.
Bigfork just opened a new trail system on the outskirts of town. This is the second official trail in the area, so it’s a pretty big deal. (Unlike the Boulder area in Colorado, which is riddled with biking and hiking routes, there’s not much of that around here.)
We decided to give it a go, so we loaded up our bikes and drove to the trailhead. It was a beautiful, crisp fall day, and we started off pretty cold– around 50 degrees. But as Thom says, “Be bold, start cold”. After about a mile, we were definitely warm! The first few miles were almost all uphill, and at one point we snapped a shot on the trail.
There were quite a few hikers on the trail, although we only saw one other group of bikers. It’s popular because it’s brand new, and of course the nice weather helped. The trees are gradually turning, and there was a lot of brilliant yellow peppered throughout the forest.
We covered about six miles in all, and really enjoyed it. A pizza at Rosa’s afterward was a perfect end to our little adventure.
Pepper and I have been working hard in the yard for the past few days. Well, if I’m being honest, she’s been working harder than me because I really don’t enjoy yard work. She’s been trimming bushes, pulling weeds, and raking pine needles. For my part, today I was cleaning the gutters. As we were working, we commented on how pretty some of our bushes are as they cruise into fall.
Although the larch aren’t a brilliant yellow just yet, it’s fun to see these other plants turning color. Stay tuned for the inevitable photo along Highway 35 as the trees reach their peak colors.
Thom and I have been all over the West on our annual fall trips, but we haven’t yet been to the Sawtooth Range in central Idaho. It coincided neatly with a conference he was attending in Idaho, and it was a half-day drive for me, so we agreed to meet up at a pizza place in the bustling town of Stanley. And by “bustling” I mean the population is around 100, and there’s little more than a gas station, post office, and a smattering of small restaurants. We enjoyed some pizza before heading out on the trail.
Because we weren’t hiking until evening, we had to cover some distance quickly. The sun was already setting, casting a golden light over the mountains ahead.
As darkness fell and we realized we were still a few miles from our planned campsite, we decided to take a shorter route to a nearby lake and camp there for the night. Topographic maps are often deceiving because those little elevation lines don’t really give a good picture of how steep the terrain can be. Our headlamps illuminated the trail as we hiked endlessly uphill, but eventually the trail faded out and we found ourselves bushwhacking through the rugged forest. We referred to Thom’s topo map, comparing it with my GPS phone map, and felt like we were really close to our destination. But the rocks were steep, the creek was swift and wide, and the trees seemed unrelenting. We agreed to turn back and hope to find the trail again, and suddenly he exclaimed “Here it is!” Sure enough, we’d been right beside the trail without even knowing it.
We made our way up to the Saddleback Lakes and set up camp. The night was cold but clear, and we enjoyed some time sitting on the shore of the lake. The moon was nearly full, casting a fierce white light on everything.
I set up my little tripod and took a few night shots. Although the photo below looks like it might be dusk, it was quite dark. Cassiopeia hangs above the cliffs in the center:
The next day dawned cloudy and cold. The forecast called for nights in the 20s, and they were right. Of course there’s something magical about a cozy sleeping bag in a tent, even on the coldest nights. It’s getting up that’s hard. We surveyed the smaller lake in the morning light.
After a bit of breakfast, we cleaned up, hoisted our packs, and headed back down the steep mountain toward our next site. In daylight, the trail was really easy to follow! We laughed a bit about how tricky it had been the night before.
In the distance we could see the peaks of the Sawtooth Range. Our destination, Alpine Lake, was somewhere off to the right past the ridgeline.
After a few hours and a lot of switchbacks up the mountain, we arrived at Alpine Lake. The clouds cleared for a while, and the sun shone brightly over the frigid water.
Thom wanted to continue hiking to Lake Kathryn, which was beyond the col in the upper left of the photo above. We left our tent and most of our supplies at the lake, taking lightly-loaded packs. There isn’t a trail to the lake, which meant a steep and steady climb through the forest and, eventually, up the talus. Climbing up mountains is trivial for Thom but exhausting for me, so I told him to go on while I stayed on a large rock outcropping. He pushed on. I enjoyed the warm sun and a magnificent view above the lake.
I was there for perhaps an hour, and it was a great opportunity to reflect on the majesty of the wilderness around me. I love the feel of being outdoors, far from the worries of civilization, hearing the birds and the squirrels, smelling the pine, watching the clouds scurry across the sky. Thom crested the ridge and looked down on Lake Kathryn but decided not to continue, as darker storm clouds were rolling in. Indeed, it began to rain: lightly at first, but then in earnest. I made my way back down to our tent, and he showed up shortly thereafter. We listened to the rain pelt the tent.
Eventually the clouds gave way a bit, and the setting sun sprinkled some pink across them with its last light.
That night was even colder; our water froze and we woke up to frost. Again, our trusty sleeping bags were wonderful. I’d commented earlier in the trip that I’d love to see a crystal blue sky and a perfectly still lake, and my wish was granted that morning.
The water was like a mirror. In fact, here’s a shot looking down into the lake:
Everything was calm and quiet. A nearby meadow had frost across the grass, and a partially frozen pond.
As the sun climbed in the sky, we decided to circumnavigate Alpine Lake and spend some time just enjoying the gorgeous fall day. We found a large rock overlooking the lake and watched the wind create patterns on the smooth water.
Although it was still cool– perhaps 50 degrees– the sun felt great.
It was wonderful to sit there, chatting about anything and nothing, with this incredible scenery around us.
As the day wore on, we finished our circuit of the lake and packed up camp. We headed out from Alpine Lake with one last fond look back.
Continuing along the trail, we were treated to some magnificent views of the valley. Since this area was carved by glaciers long ago, all of the valleys are gently curved.
We both stopped often to snap photos. I’m sure Thom’s will look better, but I’m pretty happy with some of my shots.
It’s still September, so the fall colors haven’t really peaked, but at times we were treated to a splash of yellow or red. Here’s a lonely aspen in the midst of its coniferous neighbors:
And here’s a fiery orange tree:
We headed for a campsite at Lily Lake, but about a quarter-mile shy of the lake we found a great spot to pitch our tent. It overlooked Redfish Lake, and we were treated to a slow sunset as we made dinner and settled in for the evening.
The next morning was cold again, and Thom spent some time watching the light and nursing his cup of coffee.
Although it wasn’t as clear or still as the other morning, there’s still an incredibly peaceful feel as the sun rises and everything wakes up for the day. Redfish Lake didn’t disappoint.
Hefting our packs for the last time, we made our way back to Stanley where we parted ways: him to Washington and me to Montana. As always, it was a great time and a chance to enjoy the beauty of the outdoors and the company of my favorite brother.
One of the rewarding parts of designing board games is seeing the progress from an initial prototype to a finished product. Those prototypes are usually handwritten index cards, card stock run through my trusty laser printer, and a handful of mismatched components from my game development kit. There’s a flurry of testing– first by playing against myself to work out the obvious problems, and then with patient friends who are willing to play over and over and give honest feedback each time. The prototypes get a little better, the rules get a little clearer, and the games get a little more engaging.
And at some point, it’s time to print the game. That means design, gathering graphic assets, experimenting with layouts, and sending it off to the print company. After that, it’s a couple of weeks waiting for the finished product. And when it arrives…
This is Onward, my latest game. On the right is the final prototype, printed on card stock and colored with Crayola markers; on the left are the printed player mats and decks of cards. It looks like a “real” game now!
Already I’m hard at work on my next creation, although it hasn’t yet hit the table with other people. That’s coming soon. And maybe, in a month or two, I’ll have another finished product to bring to game night…
A few days ago, Pepper backed out of the garage with the car door open and totally bent the window frame on the door.
It wasn’t as bad as the time Zaque backed into the garage door, but it was a mess. Today she took it to a body shop in Polson, who put together an estimate to repair the door. It turns out that in addition to a new window frame, the (fairly minimal) damage to the door itself would require some parts and then some paint. The paint is kind of a horror show, because they have to match what’s on the front door as well as the rear quarterpanel.
In the end, the tally came out to roughly three thousand dollars. Pepper must’ve looked pretty forlorn when the shop guy explained all of it to her. “You know, another thing you could do is just bend it back,” he remarked.
She’d tried to bend it back at home, but it’s all metal and wouldn’t budge.
She walked out to the car to take another look at it, and it was already fixed. One of the other guys in the shop had literally grabbed the two ends of the window frame and bent it back… with his bare hands. She said he wasn’t really all that “pumped”, but apparently had enough arm strength to just do it in ten seconds.
So yeah, our door is a bit dinged, and if you look closely enough you’ll see the window frame isn’t completely straight, but a ten-second strongman trick sure beats a three-thousand-dollar repair job…
There were some things I needed to take care of at Zing, and after some thought I decided it would be best to do it in person. I planned a trip to Colorado, and contacted some friends to see if I could drop in to visit. It’s a long drive– made even longer by stops for charging and meals– but I feel like long road trips aren’t a big deal when I can set the car to steer itself. I left early on Wednesday and drove 17 hours, enjoying the scenery as I rolled down the interstate.
The fun started on Thursday when I dropped in on old friends, and enjoyed some fond memories of my home for seventeen years. I had lunch with part of the Zing crew, which was great. I talked them into Cheba Hut, my favorite sandwich shop on earth, where I savored my Midwest Best:
Then Nick and I headed over to Zing’s office, which we had to clean out prior to ending our lease. It’s been a great office for over a decade, but the team is working from home, so there’s no sense continuing to pay rent. Although the guys took all the equipment they wanted, there was still a lot left in the office. A lot. We nearly filled a dumpster with keyboards, mice, network switches, cables, power strips, old furniture, worn-out chairs, and the like.
It was sad because a lot of this was useful and working, but these days you can’t even donate electronics to schools or libraries. We simply didn’t know what to do with it. Both of us took a lot of things with us, saving them from the dumpster. I ended up with a dozen monitors and bags full of cables and adapters and keyboards that I thought I might be able to put to use or give to people who need them. My car was full of stuff.
As I finished cleaning that evening and turned out the lights for the last time, it was a bittersweet moment. I spent a lot of time in that office, and it’s a really nice space.
But it’s time to move on. The Zing logo remains on the door (although probably not for long).
I’d planned to play ultimate in the Longmont league that evening, revisiting the field and friends after four years. I even had a team who said I could join them! But alas, it rained most of the day and the games were cancelled.
Friday dawned, and I headed down to Boulder for an indoor ultimate game. Along the drive, I was treated to a view of the Flatirons. Boulder is such a pretty city, and even things like driving down the roads there brought back fond memories.
I haven’t played indoor ultimate in four years– in fact, I’ve only played one game of ultimate at all in those four years. To be honest, I wasn’t really in shape for it. Hiking and biking and spending time on the lake is a very different form of exercise than sprinting for 90 minutes! Luckily indoor games involve a lot of on-the-fly substitutions, and I was able to take frequent breaks after a few minutes of hard play. People had heard I was going to be in town, and several of them came out for the game just to school me on the field. We had a good crowd, and a lot of my old friends.
Then it was time to head down to Denver. Although I miss a lot of things about Colorado, traffic on I-25 isn’t one of them.
I spent several hours talking with a couple of friends about starting a company to develop a video game. It’s a cool idea, and something I wouldn’t have considered. We did a lot of planning and brainstorming, and now I’ll need to sit down and figure out how I can contribute.
On the way back to Longmont, I was treated to a nice sunset over Longs Peak.
The next two days were filled with visits and get-togethers. I attended church in my old congregation (which has changed a lot, although many of the families are still around). I played board games with my little group of gamers. I enjoyed a sandwich at Snarf’s, my second-favorite sandwich shop on earth. I made some surprise visits. I looked at all the things in the town that have changed– a lot of new apartments, some new stores (including Costco!), and the loss of Nicolo’s, my favorite pizza place. Despite all the changes, though, the heart of the city is the same and it was fun to see it again.
Monday dawned, and I left before the sun was quite above the horizon. It was another long drive, but I took the opportunity to stop in Billings on my way through to visit another old (as in, 92 years old) friend. It was great. There were many hours of interstate, but the views were grand.
I finally arrived back home after midnight, tired after a long drive but full of happy memories.
To all the people I saw, and even to those I didn’t get a chance to catch up with, thanks for your friendship over the years. Farewell for now…
