The Carbon Footprint

I'm pondering my true carbon footprint. In this photo, I am sitting on a rock overlooking a valley in N. E. Georgia.

Hiking there is a trick. Its a special location only the immediate locals know about. And, they're a dying breed.

There's special mosses, lichen and vegetation that one must not step on or it will die. Rainmaker showed me how to find this place, and how to respect it. To watch and take care where every last footprint (and seat print) falls.

Every place I touch will be left with an impact. Even the little places. Some things will suffer, like the mosses. Some places will benefit, like a garden.

The things I chose to buy, to throw away, to wear, all this has an impact on the earth. The car I drive, the kinds of entertainment I enjoy. How often I must "upgrade" my electronics.
Sort of a heavy thought, a responsibility.

When I got to Zion, I was given a metal water bottle. They have established a free Spring Water bottle refill station for the public to use, in an effort to reduce the plastic consumption.

The flip side, of course is the reckless oil spills, wars, and strip mining that go on constantly. How will my couple footprints ever matter compared to all that?

It is a subject to ponder. Personal responsibility versus detached apathy.

Bare Feet and PB and J

In times like these, a person just has to find the small pleasures of life. Like a cool stream and a pb and J.

I hiked back into a canyon this morning (I'm sworn to secrecy, if I tell you they'd have to kill me). Even though it was around 9 a.m, it got really hot. Its June, and Utah, and very little shade.

When you find an oasis, you gotta take advantage of it. The trail gods would frown if one would spurn such a gift.

And anyways, this sandwich was only getting worse and worse, sandy, smashed, and dried out as I scrambled and bushwhacked way deep into uncharted (not seriously lost) box-canyon-territory.

I brought along the book about Yellowstone and read while enjoying this oasis. "Travels In the Greater Yellowstone" by Jack Turner is very interesting. A greater appreciation for our first National Park and the understanding of how it is being destroyed struck me with a curious thought. I really care cause I worked there last summer. I remember most of the places he describes. I care about the bison, the wolves, the nesting pelicans. I care about the white pines, the trails, the neighboring towns.

But, what if I had Not visited Yellowstone, had Not invested a part of me there, would I even read this book?

This summer I am really falling in love with Zion National Park. Hiking, living, breathing the land, now I will care when Zion is discussed, and the issues that face this remarkable national park.

And I came to the conclusion that if we are to protect the land, I think we must love it. Raise our children to love and care about it. Become invested in it. Not just intellectually, but with heart and soul.

And I realized that loving a place comes from experiencing it. Many and varied experiences. If we want future generations to protect the land, they must experience it, not from the comfort of a desk chair, but with sand in their shoes, wind in their faces, sunshine on their heads.

As a minimalist, my carbon footprint is small.

But now I'm wondering, what else can I do?

The Zion Lizard

This little guy was so accommodating, stopping every few feet while I climbed the stairs to my dorm, that I was finally able to share a photo with you.

The lessons of patience. The trail gods smiling down on me. A day off from work yielding so many pleasures.

I hiked up and into Hidden Canyon this morning. It actually has no outlet, and one would be in dire straits if a flash flood would thunder through. From the Weeping Rock trailhead, its only 2.4 mile round trip.

As usual I got an early start. Always recommended cause then you have the place to yourself, or nearly so.

I took a lot of footage while scrambling over rocks and holding onto safety chains. Loved it. Felt like Brawny again.

Walking back, I met several groups of people who were destined to converge on the Arch at the end of Hidden Canyon together.

I like the strength I feel while hiking alone. I also like greeting people who are on their own journeys of discovery.

Zion National Park is my classroom this summer.

Warnings and Privilege

Walking around Zion National Park, a person will see signs, both informative and preventative. Its good to take this stuff seriously. People die here; already this year several have.

I feel privileged walking around here, cause I don't have to go home after a few days. If the weather is a little hot, or the trails a little crowded, I can wait until a better time. I have tomorrow and Wednesday off. Fun is planned, no matter what.

Many languages are spoken here by the guests. Lots of German, French, Asian (not sure of the nationalities) Spanish, and English in various entertaining accents from around the Globe. A picture being worth a thousand words, this sign posted near a trail crossroads seemed very appropriate.

Where the Deer Feed

This morning before work, and before the heat of the day, I went down the Grotto Trail, on the Lodge side of the road. I was looking for deer. They have a couple favorite spots, off the beaten paths, and sure enough, this young doe was browsing on leaves. She didn't seem to mind my photography efforts. I spoke to her, and she didn't run.

Now lizards are a whole 'nother creature. I'd like to get a picture before I leave this fall, but so far none have sat still long enough.

Today was a good day. I enjoyed my co workers, cooked on the Line, trained my replacement, and didn't even feel tired. Now, that's almost like having fun!

I guess its all about knowing where to look, and when. Travel down the right path, at the right time and the trail gods will grant your desire.

Least, that's how I'm chalking up today's goodness.

To Everything there Is A Season

With temperatures hovering near 100 degrees, I just want to remember some snow. They tell me it will get at least 10 degrees warmer in July.

To everything there is a season, and a time, under heaven.

Today I met the guy I'll train to replace me in the EDR. The Chef says to do a good job. Then, I can move to the Line. It will be seriously hot there, facing the "window" or place the plates get put when they are ready to be sent out. At arms reach, under that shelf like set up, with heating elements above, is counters and all sorts of additions for the plating.

Behind me will be grill (or broiler, they call it) flat top (where we place Talapia, trout, arrowhead chicken breasts, grilled cheeses). That station, I'm informed is for the "broiler bitch". Male or Female.

Then, behind the "wheel man" is a deep fryer, gas burners going constantly, and farther down the line is the "saute" station, with more hot boxes, gas burners, and stuff I've yet to learn.

Of course there are cold drawers for keeping all this fresh meat and condiments cold and at arms reach, and hot steam tables for keeping all the hot sides ready to plate.

So, its going to be hot work. I am looking forward to it. Making beautiful plates of scrumptious food for each diner.

Maybe I'm not a burned out cook. Maybe I just need a new station.

Working F'n B

F and B sounds like swearing. F'n B. After awhile, that's how I feel.
I think I'm a burned out cook.

Today I saw something interesting, and it reminded me of the universal mom-habit of applying spit as a cleaning agent.
Seems chef's hands are always clean, and are the universal tool.
Or so we are all led to believe, or assume, or hope by virtue of its common practice.

It is a widely accepted opinion that Food and Beverage is the hardest and least appreciated department, especially the Employee Dining Room (EDR) crew. If anyone out there cares, give your EDR person a thanks today for a job done, even if not well.

Zion is getting hot, nearly 100 degrees. Its still lovely, and I can't wait for my days off to enjoy some more of it. The river has slowed, the banks receding. The grass remains green here in the valley, however, because it is watered with sprinkling systems.

I feel removed from the general news loop. No one really talks about all the pressing issues the country faces. We work, we sleep, we hope for days off to play.

It Always Gets Better

A friend on the trail once told me she always felt optimistic when the day started out rotten. She said she knew things were going to get better that day.

Yesterday was so sweet, I knew today would have to be hard. If all the days were good, we would become weak, wouldn't know how to look inward for our strength.

Or evaluate our goals.

And just when I get so tired of all the games, rules and nonsence, ready to give up, a beautiful day comes along.

I like the changing tides. I like the surprises. But there must also be the knowledge that it ends, and we are the masters of our destinies.

Right now I'm cooking for employees in Zion. Its not easy. Everyone likes different things, and the menus rotate over and over every eleven days. So, there are complaints, and people forget its self serve. That also means self-bussing. Yeah, your mom doesn't work here.

So, maybe its time to just lay it out there. I'm getting bored.

But, tomorow will be better. Has to be.

A Day of Gifts

I found this little boardwalk up to a lovely waterfall while hiking to the Temple of Sinawava. I never expected to see this little treasure spot. No one was there, either. Its between shuttle bus stops, too, so unless you're walking, you'd probably miss it as well. Its not even on the waterproof map of Zion National Park.

I got mail today. One envelope had a check from "my" gallery, which sadly is changing hands. Thanks Janette, for everything.

I found 65 cents, and speakers for my laptop on the Free table in the laundry room.

I read from a book my friend sent me from Yellowstone, about Yellowstone.

Life is full of gifts.

Thank you Trail Gods.

This frugal survivalist appreciates all the gifts that come my way.

And I'm not too proud to pick up a penny, either.

All Things In Their Season

The desert is in bloom. Fantastic purples, pinks, reds, white amongst the cactus and aloe plants.

Even though I came here to see all this, sometimes I get caught up in working and sleeping. Then on days off, pile on the hiking miles.

I work 1 p.m to 9 ish. So, there's time in the mornings to enjoy the warmth and glow of this canyon. That's what I'm doing now. Sunshine, exercise, a walk before work. Nothing sets the stage for a beautiful day like a commune with nature.

Zion is quiet this morning after Memorial Day weekend has past. Deer roam freely, wild turkeys ramble through the grass. Lizards scurry happily. Least I think they are happy.

All things in their season. One season at a time.