Horseback Riding at Fisher Towers

Our last big adventure during our vacation to Moab last week was going horseback riding near Fisher Towers, east of Moab. The last time I could remember being on a horse was in 1977, when I took an equestrianship PE class at the University of Illinois. Before that, I had only ridden a horse one time - at Camp Ondessonk in southern Illinois the summer after fifth grade.

So ... I was a bit apprehensive about getting on a horse. They are, after all, very large animals. I was also apprehensive that some of the kids - or perhaps all of them - might be afraid of getting on a horse. Boy, was I wrong.

Our horses were saddled and ready to go when we arrived.

We set out at 8:15 from our condo for the 45-minute drive out to Hauer Ranch near Fisher Towers - very near where we had put into the river the day before. It was another beautiful day. Clear blue skye, mild temperatures, perfect.

Kerry with the kids before the ride

Hauer Ranch is a small operation, but we were very pleased with the choice Mark had made in arranging this outing. Kerry, our guide, was very friendly, outgoing and reassuring - great with the kids. I engaged her in conversation (and visa versa) for much of the ride. 

I am fascinated by people's accents, and hers to me sounded very much like an upper midwest nasal twang. She obviously wasn't from Utah, so, intrigued, I eventually asked her where she hailed from.  "Well," she said, "I grew up in South Dakota, but then I lived in a lot of other different places." She mentioned a divorce and a remarriage, telling me that she had ended up in Utah because her husband had a job in economic development with the Navajo tribe. 

After moving west, Kerry had seen an advertisement by the owners of Hauer Ranch for a trail guide and had gotten the job. She related that she had been riding rodeo by the time she was seven years old and had a lot of experience with horses. It find continual fascination in hearing the stories of people that lie just below the surface.

The ornaments we bought in Moab

I had had a similar experience a couple of days before in a Native American gallery in Moab. I found a couple of Christmas ornaments - hand-painted sand globes (half price even) - and the cashier was an older woman whom I thought was probably in her mid-late 60's. I mentioned that I collect Christmas ornaments. Her face lit up. "I do, too!" she said. She proceeded to tell me a story of how she had collected ornaments all of her life and what a pleasure it was to get them out each Christmas and reflect upon the story behind each ornament. "Then," she continued, "I started buying ornaments for my grandchildren." She shared how excited her grandson had been to receive a small dream-catcher one year from her.

As I listened to her, I could detect a clear upper-Midwest accent, and sure enough, she was originally from Michigan. I sometimes hesitate to ask because of the reaction some people have when I enquire. She frowned a little bit and said, jokingly, "After all these years ... I thought I had lost it." I replied that it only stuck out because she is in Utah; then I mentioned that, when I first went to the University of Illinois, being from the southern part of that state, people asked me -in all seriousness - if I was from Alabama. Of course, most of my fraternity brothers were from the Chicago suburbs, and "southern Illinois" to them meant the part of the state south of the Cook County line.

But I digress. Kerry proceeded to get the kids on their horses one at a time, and I think her calm and friendly manner inspired confidence in them (and me).

Annie (above) hopped on her horse as if she'd done it dozens of times. Unlike on the rafting experience the day before, she showed no fear at any point on the trail ride. 

Getting Aaron on

Aaron was next up. Mark took pictures of all of them as they got on their horse, and when we later saw the pictures of Aaron, we all got a good laugh because of what the horse was doing, even funnier because it was Aaron's horse (think Boy Scout potty humor):

After we were all mounted, we headed out, seven horseback riders with two dogs accompanying us. Kerry told us about them, Twister and Spook; about how Spook was so named because one of their horses had been spooked one day by stomaching under a bush. Upon inspection, it turned out to be an abandoned dog whom the ranch adopted and nursed back to health.

Heading out. I love the look on Levi's face. 

Kerry also told us the story of "Blender," a ranch dog who had become famous during the 1990's because he loved to swim out in the Colorado River and be "rescued" by rafters. He would happily enjoy their attention on the way to lunch, then enjoy being fed before he'd set off on foot for the ranch. The next day, he would do the same thing, day after day.

I can't emphasize enough how surprised I was that all of the kids took so readily - and happily - to trail riding. Annie had absolutely no fear. Levi - who had told me earlier in the week that he isn't really "an outdoors person" - LOVED it. Esther and Aaron, too. Esther, of course, looked like a natural, she's such an athlete.

Along the way, Kerry told us stories about movies that had been made in the area. "City Slickers 2" was filmed on and around the ranch. "Rio Grande" with John Wayne was filmed in the area, along with a number of other westerns. Kerry also pointed out where a car commercial had been made, where a helicopter set a car on top of one of the towers. During the filming process, a storm came up, and the helicopter needed to land. The actress featured in the commercial stayed in the car; everyone assumed that the storm would quickly pass. But it didn't, and she ended up spending the night in the car.

Once we got up to the turnaround point, Kerry had us all line up (well, she lined up the horses and we all hoped they stay put because none of us - except Mark - really knew how or had the confidence to steer them) and she took a picture of us with the Fisher Towers in the background. It's the lead photo above, but I'm going to put it here as well to give texture to the comment Mark made about it when I posted it to my Facebook page:

"Here's what's wrong with the picture," he wrote. "Very western cowboy setting but mounted on those very western horses in the very western setting are 4 Xbox addicts and 2 road bike addicts. What an experience - lots of fun with those fearless children."

Indeed, it was fun. And such a great experience for the children, to encounter something they had never before encountered, to allay fears they might have had, and to teach them that they weren't necessarily who they thought they were.

Rafting the Colorado

We got up and going early last Tuesday morning to go river rafting. We woke up the kids, got them breakfast, and made sure they were dressed appropriately. We left our condo a little before 8:00 a.m. and showed up at the Red Rivers Adventures as directed at 8:15. Mark had made all the arrangements. Some guides immediately started picking out life jackets for the kids while Mark and I went into the office to sign the necessary paperwork. But it soon became apparent that they had no record of us going rafting that day. 

"Are you sure you have the right company?" the cheerful and well-mannered employee said.

"Yes," Mark replied as he reached for his phone.

"Hmmm. Let me check something." He did some typing and clicking on his keyboard. 

"Yep. You guys are scheduled for tomorrow."

Mark and I looked at each and laughed. What else could we do? "It's a good thing you guys are on vacation, right?" said the employee. "It's all good."

It was all good. The kids swam, we looked for souvenirs, and we had the brilliant idea of introducing "quiet time" at the condo, where the kids stayed in their respective bedrooms for an hour or so in the afternoon. We told the kids it was quiet time, but it was really "recoup and survive time" for Mark and me.

The next morning, we went through the same routine, knowing for sure that we had the right day.

It was a beautiful day. In fact, the weather was stellar the whole time we were in Moab. We had expected it to be much hotter but it was very pleasant.

One thing I noticed as we were standing around waiting to get on the bus was the looks from others who were going up the river with us. I suspect in most cases they were attributable to the novelty of seeing two middle-aged men with four kids under the age of 12. 

In one case, however, it was quite clear that the husband in a hubbie-wife-teenage son group was definitely not a happy camper. I noticed it down in Moab and later when we stopped for lunch along the river. I didn't say anything to Mark, but he brought it up once we were back in Moab. What was interesting is that I noticed his wife, who was quite sociable to the rest of the group, staring at our raft at one point on the trip. She had a look on her face that made me imagine that she was trying to process this scene of two gay men and four laughing, happy children having the time of their lives.

Getting the rafts in the water near Fisher Towers

Mark and I immediately liked our guides. There were three young women (who were somber and serious) and three men (who were definitely not). One of the men had hair halfway down his back, and the other two had long hair and beards. We had the feeling that these guys were all about fun (and safety, of course) on the river, and this proved to be the case. Unlike some larger rafts that seated 12 or so people, ours each had no more than six guests and the guide.

One of the men was named Cody. I noticed him right away when we were still back at Red River's place. What was noticeable is that he was, um, extremely fit. He was also very friendly and told lame jokes on the bus as we drove to our embarkation point. I quietly told Mark that I wouldn't mind having him as our guide. After all, he seemed to be the leader of the group.

Cody in action on the river 

Waiting for embarkation

As it happened, Cody did end up being our guide. In the process of assigning members of our groups to rafts, he somehow got confused as to where to put our family. Finally, he asked, "Who do you guys want to be your guide." "You!" Mark responded. And that is how Cody came to be our guide. 

He set the tone for our trip down the river when, shortly after launching, he did a back flip off the raft. Then he engaged in telling more lame jokes, and Aaron happily joined in. 

I was surprised at how well the kids took to the rafting. I have to admit that I was a bit anxious taking the kids out. I could just see one of them falling out of the raft and getting carried down the river. But none of them seemed the least bit concerned - at least until we hit our second rapids. That's when Annie, who was sitting behind me, yelled "I don't like this!" (See close-up below.)

We did our best to reassure her as we worked our way through the waves, then she was fine when we came out the other side. The other kids, if they were frightened, didn't show it.

A professional photograph of us in some rapids. Note that Levi and Esther were smiling.

We were later told that the river was higher than it's been since 1981. Most of the trip was through placid waters, though there was a pretty good current. We didn't realize how fast we were going until we looked at the shore. Cody told us that, toward the end of the summer, it's a real slog with every guest paddling almost all the way down. For us, all we had to do (other than in the rapids) was paddle every so often for directional purposes.

Our group floating down the river amidst majestic scenery

After a couple of hours on the river, we pulled over to shore where we could have lunch under the shade of some cottonwood trees. The kids went looking for lizards while the guides prepared the food. Mark took this picture of them not far from our lunch site:

During this lunch break, I had an interesting experience with one of the other dads on the trip. He was there with his son - a beautiful boy - who appeared to be about Annie's age. He said he was from the Bay Area. As we walked down the trail that the kids had taken (resulting in the above photograph), he said, "Are all these kids from one household?!" I nodded. "My wife and I stopped at three because we felt outnumbered," he said. "My hat's off to you!" I didn't volunteer any information about my six children older than the Quads.

Except for one (or two?) sets of rapids, the part of the trip after lunch was very placid. Encouraged by Cody, the three older kids jumped off the raft into the river, which was very cold. Esther did it three times (of course). We were by far the liveliest raft in our group. It was about this time that I saw that woman (whose husband sent out extremely homophobic vibes) staring at us. Whatever. It was so much fun.

We had one more set of rapids, and another professional photographer snapped this picture of us:

It was a really, really fun day.

Our family.

Vacation: Arches and Moab

So the day after the Bryce Canyon incident, Mark and I girded up our loins and took the kids to Arches National Park. On the way to the trail head for Delicate Arch, we drove by some amazing scenery. As I said to Mark, my eyes tend to glaze over when someone starts talking about geology, and I think that's mainly because it has always been presented (to me at least) in very boring terms. This period. That period. What does it all mean?

But I am fascinated by not only what I saw in southern Utah but what I see every time we go cycling in one of the canyons along the Wasatch Front. Each canyon - to me anyway - seems to have its own unique geology, look and feel. But the varied landscapes we saw on our trip to southern Utah are amazing - and took hundreds of millions of years to form. It boggles my mind to think about how relatively short - understatement - the period of recorded history is on our planet compared to the age of these formations, these mountains, these canyons.

If I wait long enough, however, the desire to know more passes, and I'm back to just enjoying what I am looking at.

To reach Delicate Arch, you drive to a trail head and then hike for 1.5 miles back to the Arch. We were apprehensive about how well the kids would do - mentally more than physically - after the Bryce Canyon experience. But they did well. Looking for lizards helped. As did the promise of ice cream back in Moab. We stopped by the Moab Cafe more than once last week.

We rented a condo while we were in Moab, and that was perfect for us. Three bedrooms, family room, kitchen, large patio and a pool down the street. The only way to go - it's cheaper than a hotel and it sure beats camping (at least in my book).

Dad's exhausted after a long day, while the kids keep going strong

Vacation: Bryce Canyon and the Landscape of Cancer

Continuing the saga of our recent family vacation, last Sunday morning we set out from St. George to our next destination: Moab. Our route would take us back through part of Zion National Park, then up to Bryce Canyon National Park. It took a little longer than we had planned on, so we didn't arrive at Bryce until early afternoon. Mark was keen on us going for a short hike at Sunset Point in Bryce; the kids were not. 

We had tried to psyche them up all the way to Bryce, but to no avail. We stopped for sandwiches at a rest stop a few miles from the entrance to the park. Being a Utahn (by adoption, 18 years on), I immediately headed for the shady picnic table; but Mark pointed out that it was too cold to sit in the shade. He was right. It had been a blast furnace in St. George, but it was considerably cooler up here.

Making sandwiches near the entrance to Bryce Canyon National Park

Another family arrived at the rest stop at the same time we did. Minivan. Dad about 30, several young kids. We had a 15-passenger van. Mark's brainwave. We removed the back seat in order to stow gear, and there were three bench seats to be shared among four children. 

Not for the first time, we sensed the curiosity and a degree of animosity towards us as a gay couple. I mean, we were a bit of an anomaly: four kids, two dads, two *mature* dads. The image of "this doesn't compute" was noticed on more than a few places during our trip - at poolside in St. George, in Zion, and now at a remote rest stop in south-central Utah. And there would be more. I just looked upon it as an opportunity to expose and educate and moved on.

We entered Bryce Canyon Park and somehow missed the turnoff for Sunset Point. We found it on the way back, but not before we had driven all the way to the end of the road, at Rainbow Point. Mark parked the van and asked who wanted to come with him to the lookout point. The girls went with him, the boys didn't; they couldn't be bothered. "Boring." Sigh. 

Mark came back to the van some minutes later with a story. He was taking pictures. Esther and Annie were standing nearby. Some well-meaning woman asked if Mark would like her to take a picture of him with "his children." "Oh," Mark replied, "these aren't my children. I've never seen them before." "Mark!," Annie (our seven-year-old) chimed in, "you're my Daaaad!" (How cool is that?)

We then drove back down the road toward Sunset Point and pulled into the parking area. The kids were not enthused about going for a "hike." (Apparently, walking anything further than a few feet constituted a "hike" in their eyes.) We got out of the van and walked toward the rim. Along the way, Levi - our nine-year-old - explained to me that he didn't like the outdoors and wasn't an "outdoors person."

How does a parent respond to that?? In so many ways, Levi reminds me of me as a child his age. But for the fact that my mother forced all us kids out of the house at every available opportunity, I would have happily spent my time inside, reading books. No video games in those days. Just books. But I would have been happy. Now, however, I wished Levi would open himself up a bit more to life. (He would "redeem" himself later on the trip.)

Mark had by this time capitulated on the short hike he had envisioned and was willing to settle for a family picture at the rim. After all, we had at least a four-hour drive ahead of us to get to Moab, so time constraints also militated against a hike. But we couldn't even get the kids to look happy for the picture, as this photo clearly shows:

On the way back to the van, I decided that it was a time for a "come to Jesus" meeting. We gathered the children at the edge of the parking lot, and I proceeded to give them a talking-to. I pointed out that Mark and I had spent considerable time, effort and expense on this trip, and we were sick and tired of them constantly complaining about everything. We'd had enough. They seemed to get the message.

Once in the van, however, I drove the point home even further. "Mark," I told the children, "might not feel well enough to take a trip next year. We must never forget that Mark has cancer. We need to appreciate our time now and to take advantage of the opportunity we now have to spend quality time together."

This sobered them. It was the first time in quite awhile that we had mentioned Mark's cancer, and the effect was marked. It was, in a sense, the turning point of our trip. The children were silent for several hours as we drove on to Moab. We had gotten through to them. And their behavior on rest of the trip would be different. Well ... at least some of the time.

Vacation: St. George And Zion

I've been quiet on my blog lately for several reasons. These last two weeks have been kind of crazy. First, my daughter Rachel came into town for a visit. Then, our bikes were stolen out of our garage, so we had to deal with that, which included finding replacement bikes so that we could continue our training. Then, a couple of days later, I picked up our four youngest kids (whom we refer to collectively as the Quads) to head out on family vacation to southern Utah. I didn't have an opportunity to blog while we were gone, so now I'm going to play catch up, along with continuing a series of posts about why I left the Mormon Church.

We headed to St. George last Friday, and our first stop was at Sand Hollow Reservoir northeast of St. George. It was someplace Mark had been, and he thought the kids would enjoy it. Not for the last time on our trip, I was very surprised at the adventurousness of the kids. As the above picture shows, there were red rock "islands" out in the reservoir, and we had to swim across open water to get to the first one, then the second one in the background. In some places, the kids could walk on rock ledges pretty far.

Why was I surprised? Part of it was due to the fact that some of the kids have expressed concerns over and over again - when we're at home in the city - about whether something is "safe." Although Mark and I have been consciously working to help them realize that the world is not inherently a scary and dangerous place, I was still surprised that none of them expressed any concern about whether swimming away from shore in a lake was "safe" (granted, they had noodles, but still ...).

From Sand Hollow, we drove on in to St. George. We had discovered at the lake that - of course - one of the kids had left their swim suit - and their sandals - at our house, so we had to make a stop at K-Mark on our way to the hotel. This was the same place we had stayed on our way back from Disneyland last year. We would be there two nights, and I swore when we left on Sunday morning that never again would we try to cram two adults and four kids in one hotel room. Life is too short.

The kids enjoyed swimming at the hotel's pool that evening.

The next morning, we set out for Zion National Park. On the way there, we were barraged with questions about what it would be like, what we would do, etc., etc. This is another attribute of more than one of the Quads. They want to know ahead of time what lies ahead of them. I think it must be a control thing. But it drove us freaking nuts throughout the trip. We tried, I think somewhat successfully by the end of the vacation, to teach the kids that they should stop obsessing what lies ahead and simply let it unfold.

It's hard to do justice to the beauty of Zion, which consists of a deep, beautiful canyon with towering rock face walls opening occasionally onto mountain vistas. Mark took the above picture, and below are a few I took several years ago when I visited Zion for the first time.

Our first stop as we entered the park was to purchase water bottles from the Visitors Center gift shop. Then the kids filled them up at a spring water station just outside. Some of them were suspicious that the water was actually safe to drink. Sigh.

From there, it was onto a tram to head up the canyon to the point where there is a paved mile-long path to the head of the canyon.

They liked the tram but were definitely not excited about the "hike." Here's how Mark expressed it in an email to his family:

"Joseph and I realized that the kids would probably not appreciate the beauty of the parks but we wanted to at a minimum expose them. We took a 2 mile hike (total) and they threatened to get the UN involved... something about crimes against humanity. Funny how the moaning and groaning stopped when at the turn around point they got to play in the river. All of a sudden the sun wasn't so hot and they had a burst of energy. They played longer than we walked."

This picture does some justice to the beauty of the place

Trying to catch little fish

As Mark wrote, we at least exposed the kids to the beauty of Zion. I told myself that they are just like hundreds of thousands of other kids whose parents have dragged them to national parks so that they could see and appreciate scenic wonders. We needed to be patient with them, I told myself, even when they said, "This is boring."