On October 1, Joni, Matt and I drove west on I-70 and then to Capitol Reef National Park, a fine but highly underrated National Park. Arriving late in the afternoon, we drove a couple of miles past the visitor’s center on the scenic drive underneath the powerful red walls, west of the Waterpocket Fold. As the sun set, we did the short walk to Panorama Point where we could see across the canyon ridges to the reef. That night, we stayed just outside of the park in a slightly dilapidated motel, The Rim Rock Inn, with character and an absolutely scenic location. We ate at the restaurant, surrounded by windows so we could watch the canyon walls change color and glow with the sunset, as we ate western fare.

Utah Route 12

After breakfast in Torrey, we turned on Route 12 heading south.  Immediately, the road began to climb steadily through Ponderosa Pine forests and up to tree line, where there were views, over golden stands of aspen, to the mesas of the Escalante below. After descending, just past the village of Escalante, we entered classic country of the Grand Staircase Escalante National Monument. We drove up the bone dry, hard rock canyons onto the Hogback, a dramatic stretch of road with the canyon walls dropping vertically just on either side of the road into the glowing canyons of the Escalante.

Bryce

Route 12 passes by the entrance into Bryce Canyon National Park, and we drove in to do a quick hike on the Peek a Boo loop. Bryce is at the top of the Escalante Staircase, and it was a cool and bright day with a deep blue sky offsetting the jumble of bright pinks, reds, whites and yellows in the canyon.  The trail was broad and easy to walk on but had the overall shape of a roller coaster down and around, up and down again, through tunnels and under vertical walls, with both single hoodoo spires and hoodoos in the thousands. We had to get to Zion that day to register for the tomorrow’s Narrows hike so I pushed the pace, and we climbed quickly by the other hikers.  The pace was no problem for Joni and Matt.

 

The Narrows

The Narrows was like another world, one where you lived with your feet in water. Occasionally, there were stony banks, below water line during some part of the year, now dry, where we could sometimes walk, but for a majority of the time, we were walking in knee deep water or less. But on the second day, in the deepest section of the Narrows, we were often waist deep, chest deep a couple of times or swimming at least once, while the walls, increasingly close together, towered a thousand feet above us.

On the first day, the walls were only a few hundred feet high and the canyon was usually more open. We started hiking very early and very cold.  Our hands were numb, and after starting to walk in water, so were our feet. After the sun moved higher, it grew a bit warmer and we could find some warm places in the sun. After hiking for several miles, we began counting campsites numbered one through twelve, with small yellow signs, in stands of trees just above the bank. Number 9 was our pleasant site, with a flat dirt area directly below a large curved wall, with trees above us and the river just below us. We were under a small rectangle of blue ski.  We noticed that standing in front of the curve of wall amplified the constant whoosh of the river. We made sure we had warm clothes to change into and nice air pads with warm, dry bedding. No tents were needed; it had not rained in weeks and the stars in the small box above were bright during the night. (Most of the photos in this section are by Joni Watkins and Matt Umberger.)

The next day we got a later start to let things warm a bit before we started again walking in the river, but we had to go.  We started into the darkest part of the canyon almost immediately with the highest and closest walls, and the deepest water. The first time we had to walk chest-deep in the cold water, it took our breath away. Dark walls climbed a thousand feet above us, close together. The scattering of people we saw with us in the river began increasing.  However, at this point we were concentrating on the deep water. Looking ahead, we saw a particularly deep part ahead of us, and a couple of our fellow hikers, chest deep while a number of people watched from the rocks on the other side of the pool. We decided to avoid the congestion by going through the deeper part where we had to swim.  I found out my pack floats as I pushed it with a clumsy kick for about twenty feet. A tourist on the rock videoed me with his phone while I swam. After that, we found a stony bench, underwater earlier in the year, where we sat in rare sunshine and ate lunch. From that place, the rest was hiking over river benches with growing crowds of people or walking with water just above our knees. We came to the trailhead and had to walk on a developed pathway full of human congestion to the shuttle stop where we got on a shuttle back to our car, full of people, with our clothes and packs still damp. Being in such crowding is always a bit shocking immediately after working your way for two days through a place as remote and difficult as the canyon of the Virgin River in Zion.

Zion National Park

We took a day off after each of our big hikes. We drove onto the Upper Kolob Plateau and to the Kolob Canyons area, beautiful areas in Zion where there were few people.

West Rim Trail

We moved from the bottom of Zion in the Narrows, walking in the Virgin River, to the top of Zion on the West Rim Trail, high above the canyons, a scenic and very dry trail. We could see over the great stone monuments to the haze of the distance. We rode a shuttle van to the north trailhead and arrived before sunrise.  We began hiking on a good trail, while Joni ran ahead of Matt and me.  The vegetation was beautiful with Ponderosa Pines and Oak trees scattered widely in an open forest. Soon we were illuminated by the sun rising to the east, and a couple of miles into the hike, began to hike along the west side of the ridge finding the views of mesas and canyons on that side.  There were beehive shaped mesas and mesas with large, flat vegetated tops.  We wondered if people had ever climbed them. Early on, the hiking was on gently rolling terrain but we soon descended into Potato Hollow and then climbed about 800 feet back onto the plateau.  At an intersection, we followed the West Rim trail where we had more canyon views to the West from the highest part of the hike, above 7,000 from sea level.  We met Joni running back towards us, and she hiked with us the rest of the time. We looped around to the southern side of the high plateau and began to have views of the main canyons of Zion with enormous mesas, big enough to have forests on the top and even on the ledges.  We were far above everything, far above Angel’s Landing and beyond sight of the river over 3,000 feet below us. (The sunrise photo is by Joni Watkins.)

We had a long way down. We stopped at trail junction where there was a large opening in the autumn colored vegetation and I ate a good lunch. Joni and Matt went to a nearby spring.  They had photo’d the whiteboard at the rangers desk where we got our Narrows permit.  It told them where the springs were. They had a system using a Sawyer filter attached to a liter container from which they drank directly, not carrying much water and moving very light. I had my usual heavy pack full of emergency gear and plenty of water. In any case, I do better with weight on my back.

We started the descent on tilted ledges forming nice zig-zagging trails down the wall of the canyon.  There was fractured concrete in places on the trail where some construction had been attempted at some historic time. The trail dropped into a canyon full of colored deciduous trees and walls of the hard but smooth sandstone.  Ahead were high mounds of stone patterned with checkered vertical and horizontal lines.

We had to climb a bit to a high viewpoint above the canyon. Climbing made me realize how far I had come and how tired I was.   From this level, we could see Angel’s Landing in front of us.  We could see it was covered with people, from this distance like bugs. Even if we weren’t tired, there was no way in hell we were climbing that thing. We hiked to the wide pass at the bottom of the Landing where there were well constructed restrooms and where we were suddenly in a continuous crowd.  From there, we climbed down a well-constructed pathway, tightly swithchbacking down the nearly vertical canyon. We wove our way around people who were climbing or going down and sometimes some really fast people wove their way around us.  There were many people stopped resting.  Joni said most of the people had no business doing this climb. There were people on the trail from all over the world. As we descended the temperature rose dramatically. Finishing our fifteen mile hike, before getting on the bus, we stopped to cool off in the Virgin River, so we were again damp as we sat shoulder to shoulder with tourists in the standing room only shuttle.  We still had plenty of time to relax and have a beer in the nice house we were renting in La Verkin before we went out to a fancy, western-themed restaurant.

 

The bottom of the Hall’s Creek Gulch was the Devil’s Anvil and the 800 foot climb back to the overlook was horribly hot, but the small, tight canyon in the Waterpocket Fold and the views from the Hall’s Overlook and above were exquisitely beautiful. The Waterpocket Fold is an up tilted ridge of hard sandstone running for one hundred miles through southern Utah.  This sandstone is composed of sand from an ancient Sahara-like desert. The Capitol Reef is the highly-eroded, towering section of the Waterpocket Fold in Capitol Reef National Park.

Upper Muley Twist Canyon

The Upper Muley Twist Canyon runs between the hard, white wall of the Waterpocket Fold, and the enormously bubbling, red walls of the Kayenta formation. The bottom of the canyon is nearly one thousand feet higher than the Hall’s Overlook, the sun was behind clouds in the morning, and we had wind in the afternoon. So the hike of the canyon was pleasantly warm. We found fantastic formations and arches hiking the canyon bottom.  We took a short side hike into a wonderful, narrow slot canyon. Then we climbed high to the top of the Waterpocket Fold and, for several miles, hiked along the white rim, climbing over high points and enjoying endless views of mesas, mountains and valleys. To the west, on the other side of the canyon, we enjoyed the views of the red, cottage-cheese Kayenta. Ryan and I agreed, this was one of the best hikes in the world.

 

 

Titcomb Basin

If on the maps of the Wind River Range you trace your finger along the line of the Continental Divide, you will find scattered named peaks.  However, there are two areas which contain large collections of named peaks and towers: the Titcomb Basin and the Cirque of the Towers. These areas are located in the Bridger Wilderness area. This wilderness was named after Jim Bridger, a famous mountain man of the 19^th century, who, like myself, was born in Richmond, Virginia.

On Monday, August 12, I led a group of eight people into the Bridger Wilderness, hiking on the Pole Creek Trail towards Titcomb Basin. The night before we had stayed in Pinedale, Wyoming in the pleasant and quaint cabins of the Log Cabin Motel, and after breakfast at the Heart and Soul restaurant, we drove to the Elkhart Park Trailhead. We had a scenic drive to the trailhead past enormous Fremont Lake, the second largest natural lake in Wyoming. The road climbed higher and higher with views down to the lake and valley and forward to the peaks of the broken Wind River Range. The parking lot at the trailhead was filled with up to one hundred cars.  There would be many people on the trails.

As we started up the Pole Creek Trail, we found the trail to be broad and gentle as it climbed gradually through the forest.  After hiking four and a half miles, we reached Photographer’s Point where we ate lunch and admired the grand view of the wild mountains ahead of us. As we walked on through forest and scenic meadows, we passed one lake after another: Eklund Lake, Barbara Lake and much larger Hobbes Lake. The Wind River landscape was created by ancient glaciers and includes over 2,300 lakes and ponds. From Hobbes Lake, we climbed more steeply through basins of broken rock and ragged forest.  Finally, we climbed over a saddle and down to enormous, deep-blue Seneca Lake. We worked our way around the lake leaving behind one high campsite, even though some of our group were exhausted and wanted to stop.  After Ed spoke with a ranger, I decided to move around to the far, north end of the lake.  We had some difficulty choosing a campsite because I knew we needed to camp 200 feet from the lake and 200 feet from the trail.  We choose a campsite in a large meadow above the lake.  In the evening, I read out loud O Solitude by John Keats and played three tunes on the recorder. In fact, there were people camped around us and there was little solitude. The large lake below us was very blue, with rugged mountains above it.

 

On Tuesday, we got up to find a heavy frost on the ground and on our tents and ice in the water bottles we had left outside of our tents. Cheryl spend the night in a bivy sack with a single layer, and in the morning, it was collapsed under the frost. I gave her my car keys so she could hike back and find lodging in Pinedale. The rest of us left at 9:00 AM to hike the trail to Titcomb Basin. On the way, we walked by several more beautiful lakes including Little Seneca Lake with its island. For each lake, we climbed over short passes and down into each lakes’ basin. The scenery became increasingly beautiful and we saw more and more of the jagged continental divide from each pass and lake.

 

In the basin, the lakes were beautifully broken and cragged with numerous rock table tops and peninsulas with deep blue water in their inlets. Above the lakes, were uncountable needles and peaks, including massive Fremont Peak, Mount Sacagawea, and Gannet Peak, the tallest mountain in Wyoming. Part of the group turned back toward camp, but Heeja, Carol, Ed and I stayed for some time exploring, and except for one fisherman, we had the enormous basin to ourselves. We spent much time taking pictures and sitting and appreciating the magnificent landscape. It is difficult to convey with photography the immensity of this basin.

On the return to camp, a ranger told Ed that we would have to move our camp and suggested a new location.  It was apparently 20 to 30 feet too close to the trail. So when we got back, we moved our camp to the top of a small, rocky hill which I had seen before but had worried it was too close to the lake. It turned out to be a better, more secluded site with fine views in the lake. It also proved to be warmer during the night than the meadow below. After dinner, I played songs on the recorder and Carol sang some of the songs. Then I climbed to the rocky top of the hill and sat for some time where there was a grand view of big Seneca Lake.

Continental Divide Trail

On Wednesday, we started hiking from camp on the same route as the previous day, but after a mile and a half, we turned onto the Continental Divide trail instead of heading towards Titcomb Basin. We soon passed a large Douglas Fir tree.  Four of us could barely reach around it holding each other’s hands. We hiked over ridges and down to small basins with lakes and finally descended to Fremont Crossing where there was a wide wooden bridge crossed a beautiful, broad stream. We had seen no one else on the Continental Divide Trail, and only at the bridge did we see three or four through hikers.

From the bridge, we crossed a valley meadow full of flowers and ascended steeply on a rocky trail from one stone shelf to another and finally arrived at a large granite plateau above tree line, with many ponds. On the plateau, as we continued on the trail, Mount Arrowhead, Bow Mountain, and Brimstone Mountain were in front of us. Finally, we came to beautiful, large Lower Jean Lake, completely by ourselves.  It was very windy on the plateau, so we found shelter and ate lunch before returning to camp, all the while enjoying the sacral view of the well-spaced high peaks above the deeply colored lake.

Cirque of the Towers

From Big Seneca Lake, we returned to our cabins in town to find a mother moose and her two youngsters eating the flowered plants around our cabins. After our large dinner at a Mexican restaurant, we returned to find the moose family still around.  Apparently, they were a part of Pinedale’s moose family who lives in the town park. The next morning we drove some distance through endless, wide-open range to the Big Sandy Trailhead where we started our trip to the Cirque of the Towers. The parking lot at the trailhead was full with many cars. It was an easy five mile hike from the trailhead to Big Sandy Lake, a large body of water surrounded by ragged peaks. We camped on a high knoll above the lake where we had plenty of room, an existing fire ring, and some seclusion.  Through the trees, we could see the circle of mountains surrounding the lake.

On Saturday, we began a hike to the Cirque of the Towers. Walking around Big Sandy Lake, we found unusually colored Monkey flowers by a stream. We hiked up from the lake on a rugged trail to North Lake and then to Arrowhead Lake. Pointed peaks towered above the lakes. From Arrowhead Lake, we continued to climb steeply around boulders to Jackass Pass. High above tree line now, the wind pushed us around. We climbed a knoll above the pass to its top where there were various stone viewpoints.  We were very fortunate to have this substantial hilltop area to ourselves for over an hour. Standing on the rocks provided a variety of viewpoints of the surrounding towers and of Lonesome Lake below. We were surrounded on three sides by a circle of high, peak sculptures. The enormous chiseled towers included Warbonnet, Wolf’s Head, and Shark’s Nose. Each had its own unique shape. The wind was blowing strongly and we sat behind some boulders to eat lunch.  On the way back, we stopped to admire the views of Haystack Mountain and the other mountains above Big Sandy Lake. Overall, we hiked for seven days straight for a total of 57 miles. We were lucky with the weather: in seven days, we did not experience a drop of rain.

On a previous night I had read Basho’s haiku to the group:

Seek on high bare trails

Sky reflecting violets

Mountain-top jewels

I had dedicated this to Carol since on one of the hikes she had found the beautiful, tiny, alpine violets.  That evening, after experiencing the Tower of the Cirques, we all composed and recited our own haikus by the campfire. They were about nature, the mountains and our experience. Sort of like having a poetry party with Li Po, minus the wine.

On Saturday, July 13, Carol Munch led us into the Pecos Wilderness Area of northern New Mexico.  We started at the Santa Barbara trailhead and began ascending gradually on the West Fork Trail. The two nights before we stayed with Carol and her husband Ed Niehaus at a rustic cabin complex which belonged to Carol’s family in nearby Eagles Nest. There were several cabins in a pine forest. Carol had learned about being a wilderness guide and instructor at the nearby Philmont Scout Ranch and Ed was a retired CEO from the Bay Area. It was a sunny and warm morning when we started and as we hiked, we saw increasing rainbows of wildflowers, including geraniums, thimble berry flowers, wild roses and other flowers. Carol took detailed pictures of the different species while I photographed the natural bouquets.  In places, we found large stands of columbines.  The snowy winter and spring had been great for summer wildflowers.

We continued up the canyon hiking by the Rio Santa Barbara, a fast moving stream. Farther up the trail, we could see Chimayosa Peak at the head of the valley with a patterned snowfield near the top.  We missed a stream crossing and began wandering in the low, wet riparian bottom, struggling to find our way while keeping our feet dry. There were a number of muddy trails which had been created and churned by cattle. Using GPS, we realized we had to go back to the stream crossing and after crossing carefully on a collection of logs, we began to climb more steadily. As we reached a series of switch backs and climbed up the steep side of the canyon, it began to drizzle with the deep booms of thunder bouncing off the canyon walls. For a brief time we found shelter under evergreens when it rained heavily but mostly we hiked with drizzle. At the top of the switch backs and stream valley, we found a campsite deep in the forest, above a stream. I helped some, but Carol, Ed and Heeja were extremely efficient at gathering wood and building the campfire.

On Sunday we hiked gradually up from our campsite through deep, dark forests.  Beautiful purple, parry primrose are normally found at stream crossings but this year, on this trail through the forest, we found them scattered along the trail. We reached a small snow field to cross and immediately left the forest, climbing rocky switch backs up the vertical slope above the trees. Part of the way up, I realized the beauty of the place and raised my hands above my head and shouted my joy at the astounding vistas.

We climbed the long switchbacks to an unnamed pass where we had broad views of the wilderness to the south and where Chimayosa loomed above us along the ridge, just to the east. North Truchas Peak to the west of us, with an elevation of over 13,000 feet above sea level, looked like an overly difficult climb, whereas Chimayosa, at 12,841 feet looked like something we could do from the pass.   Ed was feeling mild altitude symptoms, so Carol, Heeja and I climbed 800 feet up the ridge, over a snow field and steeply up the final approach to the top where we could see all three Truchas Peaks. From the top far to the north, we could see Wheeler Peak, which we had climbed two days before. While enjoying the scenery, we heard a loud boom of thunder to our east.  We quickly began rushing down the mountain and back to the pass.  Looking back at the peak, we could see a black cloud directly above it.

 

We hiked down off the pass and a mile or so to Truchas Lake, where we found a nice campsite among scattered boulders, with views of the wilderness to the south. Among the trees, we spotted a female bighorn sheep. After chores, I walked in a light drizzle to the upper lake where I found the spot I had camped with a group years before. Above me, I saw the steep slope of scree which the group had descended from the west.  I saw a herd of bighorns on a steep, grassy slope below the top of the ridge. Later, several female sheep came to visit us in camp.  Unfortunately, they were very tame.  People had probably been feeding them.  I tried to chase them away several times.  Wild animals should be afraid of humans, the most dangerous animal on the planet.

Just after I retired to my tent, we had a ferocious thunder storm with a great deal of rain and hail. When I got up in the morning it was clear and quite windy, and after breakfast and packing up, while waiting for the others, I walked to the lakes.  It was a crystal clear day and despite the wind, the mountains and trees reflected nicely on the water.

We left camp and hiked up to the Skyline Trail on the open ridgetops of a high divide. On the alpine tundra, there were all types of small alpine flowers of many colors.  We walked through a garden of miniatures. We hiked around Chamayosa Peak and saw female bighorns grazing on the side. After lunch, we had to climb steeply to a high point where we had sweeping views of the wilderness and back to the Truchas. From the top, we spotted several bighorn rams near us with a couple of females. They did not seem to be bothered by us.  Looking down into the South Fork Basin, we spotted a large elk herd with over one hundred individuals. We sat near the top enjoying the grand wilderness tableau with large movements of animals among the flowing, flowered alpine terrain. As we descended, the elk began to move as a group away from us.

We descended down the east fork trail although it was not really a trail.  In fact, we followed cairns and poles which we had to spot in the distance.  Several time, we had to search the area for our route or use GPS to get back to it.  Further down we saw cattle and the trail in the forest was muddy and damaged by them. We camped at a nice spot on the edge of a large meadow next to the East Fork of the Rio Santa Barbara. The next day we continued down the muddy East Fork Trail and not far from camp found beautiful wild irises. Further down, we went through a gate and merged with the Middle Fork trail which descended gradually.  That trail was very pleasant, undamaged and lined with wild roses and other flowers. It took us back to the West Fork Trail and the trailhead.

On July 12, Carol Munch led us on a climb of Wheeler Peak, at 13,159 feet above sea level, the highest spot in New Mexico.  We started climbing through the forest from Taos Ski Area and climbed steeply for some time above tree line to the high ridge and on to the summit. From the top, we could see north to the high peaks in southern Colorado and south to the Truchas Peaks and the area where we would start backpacking the next day.  On the descent, it started raining when we were near tree line.  After the climb, we walked around the square in Taos and enjoyed a fine New Mexican meal.

On July 18, Heeja and I climbed West Spanish Peak, a peak in the Spanish Peak Wilderness Area of Colorado, with a summit at 13,625 feet above sea level. The climb involved a two and a half mile hike through the forest and a final, steep one mile climb up the rock face of the mountain.  We climbed slowly, working our way vertically over the boulders and scree.  From the top we could vaguely see Wheeler Peak in New Mexico through the haze.  To the north, we could see the adjoining fourteeners, Little Bear and Blanca, in the Sangre de Cristo Mountains. To the west, there was another ridge of snow-capped peaks with the fourteener Culebra anchoring it on the southern end. To the east, we saw endless plains.

After celebrating on the top with other climbers, we began the difficult, rugged descent down the mountain.  As we descended, we spotted a large collection of yellow spots below us.  As we got near them, we saw it was a group of over seventy, middle-school age children with yellow t-shirts which said Camp Salvation.  When we were almost at the bottom, the leaders released them to stream up the mountain.  Further down, we looked back and saw they were moving quickly up, practically devouring the mountain at a rapid rate.

On July 4, I climbed with a CMC group to the summit of two of the Peaks over 12.000 feet high in the Lost Creek Wilderness in Colorado.  It was a beautiful day and we spent hours above tree line. The views were forever. Wilderness is an important part of the American experience and character. There is no better way to spend the 4th.

 

Punto Arenas

On November 12, our first full day in Punta Arenas, Chile, we went to the docks to board a large, fast catamaran to travel to Magdalena Island out in the Straits of Magellan. Along the way, the crew pointed out some whales surfacing in the distance.  I was never sure what kind of whales they were but humpbacks are regularly sighted in the Straits. I enjoyed going out on to the top deck of the fast moving boat as the sun broke through the clouds and shined on the water. As we ran across the water, the waves became bigger and the ride bumpier and Magdalena Island gradually grew in front of us.

We soon disembarked from the boat onto the island and into Los Pinguinos Natural Monument and began to see the very cute magellanic penguins waddling about the island.  The magellanic penguins are medium size penguins native to the Patagonia area.  They are deep diving birds who feed in the sea and lay their eggs in burrows on the island.  Generally, the penguins mate for life. The island was also covered with thousands of kelp gulls. We walked the loop path, carefully designated to avoid disturbing the penguins, up to the lighthouse and back down to the boat. For some time, I watched a penguin busily gathering grass and rocks, putting them into the burrow to build the nest, looking for the right grass, picking it, and returning it to the burrow again and again.  It was a bit early in the year to see young penguins, which was good since studies have shown that the presence of people causes stress in young penguins. The primary threat to the penguins is oil spills, and because of that the magellanic penguins are considered endangered.

Back in Punta Arenas, after buying lunch in the large, busy grocery store across from our guest house, several of us took a taxi out to the Museo Nao Victoria, an open air museum on the edge of town by the water with replicas of the key boats that played a role in the history of the area. Ferdinand Magellan was a Portuguese sailor who was commissioned by Spain and was the first European to circumnavigate the globe and sail through the Straits of Magellan.  There were five ships in his fleet and we toured the replica of the Victoria, one of those ships.  The boat was nearly completely constructed of wood with crew areas below deck which were too low to stand in and a larger space for cargo below. The expedition returned to Spain in 1522 but Magellan did not survive the trip.

The Beagle was the ship used in the famous voyage between 1831 and 1836 to South American, Australia, New Zealand and the South Pacific captained by Robert FitzRoy to continue surveying activities, using the latest instruments. The ship carried Charles Darwin as its gentleman naturalist, and he in fact spent more of that time ashore than on the boat, studying the geology, flora, fauna and indigenous peoples.  Touring the boat, we found it obvious that ship building had made incredible advances in the three hundred years between the Victoria and the Beagle. There were small cabins for the officers and much more open spaces below deck.  There were well-engineered iron mechanisms and fittings.  Both FitzRoy and Darwin published books on the voyage and Darwin’s studies became the basis for his theory of natural selection.

We also found a replica of the James Caird, the lifeboat which Ernest Shackleton fitted for a desperate and stormy voyage through the worst stretch of ocean in the world to find rescue for his stranded crew.  After much difficulty, especially with the English admiralty, Shackleton rescued his crew in August of 1916 from Elephant Island using a ship provided by Chile.  Their arrival in Puntas Arenas was greeted with much celebration by the residents of the city.

We went back to the ticket office to get help with a taxi back into town but found the office empty.  A women in the yard told us that the man in the office was at lunch so we walked back out to the main road to see if we could hail a taxi.  Instead, an empty bus with a driver waited for us which we boarded for an inexpensive ride by ourselves to the municipal cemetery.  The cemetery was lovely with long rows of severely shaped evergreens and rows of graves and mausoleums. Near the back, we found the black monument to local people who were executed and disappeared during the Pinochet era.  Many were in their twenties and one was twenty years old. It was so moving that I could feel it in my chest.

We walked back into town and to the Plaza de Armas and the monument to Magellan.  The town is filled with lovely parks and buildings with strong European influences but uniquely its own. From there we climbed up the hill to a view point of the town and the Straits of Magellan.  For some reason, Punta Arenas felt like the edge of the world, and indeed, it is said to be one of the southernmost cities in the world, and people get on boats here to go to Antarctica. We ate dinner at a restaurant called Amar Mita where I ate a nice Guanaco bourguignon (it tasted like beef) and homemade cake.

Torres del Paine National Park and the W trek

Together, the open grasslands of the steppe, the tall jagged peaks, the enormous aquamarine lakes and the endless southern icefields give the area around Torres del Paine National Park in Chile a definite otherworldly feel.  The vast glaciers push the moisture from the nearby Pacific Ocean so that it boils up over the mountains and accelerate the winds to pound the hikers below. On November 13, we boarded a van in Punto Arenas for the drive north to Torres del Paine.  After leaving the city, we drove for several hours through the barren, flat Pampa, grasslands with occasional sheep mixed in with the large land bird, the Rhea, along with other birds.  After a bit of time, it became boring and a good time for a nap. When I awoke the countryside was hillier with occasional glimpses of snow-capped peaks far in the distance.

After a time, we arrived in Puerto Natales, a town located on a large body of water with snow-capped peaks on the other side of the lake. In town, we went into the tour agency offices and had a briefing on the W trek by a young woman who knew Torres del Paine very well. The W is a five day trek, shaped like a W, in the National Park. After the briefing we walked down to the beautiful water front on the Ultima Esperanza Sound, a body of water emptying into the Pacific through a system of fiords. After a nice Pizza lunch at the Guanaco restaurant, we were back in the van heading north to the Torres del Paine National Park. As we traveled, we began to see the Torres del Paine massif which was very impressive with its towers and high peaks, and near the park we began to see groups of Guanacos a wild relative of llamas in the camel family.  These tall, slender animals provide a primary food source for the pumas that live in the national park.  Stopping at one viewpoint above a lake, we found several interesting flowers in the brush, including small, yellow lady slipper orchids. After checking in at the park’s administrative offices, we arrived at the Refugio Las Torres.  It was a hostel type refugio with bunk-bed, dormitory-style rooms and shared baths. We had four of the women and two men in our room.

On Thursday, November 15, we started our first leg of the W with a hike to a viewpoint called Mirador los Torres. This would be a seven mile hike with considerable elevation gain. We started walking on level ground through the refugio complex and past the hotel and turned northwest and started climbing on a good trail.  Denise led and set a steady pace. We climbed to a highpoint where we had a nice view up the valley of the Rio Ascencio, and then from there, we descended into the lovely beech forest and down to the river. We crossed the raging, glacial river to the Refugio el Chileno where we stopped to eat snacks. Then we crossed the river again on a bridge and walked for several kilometers along but slightly above the river. Soon, when we reached an intersection with a trail to a camping area, it began to snow lightly, and we turned on the main trail and began to climb steeply. The trail became increasingly rugged with many boulders to cross. As we climbed, the forest thinned and we were soon above the tree line, climbing through a large boulder field. We climbed over a high point and down a bit to a sign for the mirador. Below the sign we found a large glacial lake, but above it we could see little because of the clouds and snow. We sat in the rocks near the sign and ate our packed lunch.  After I finished my sandwich, huddled between boulders, I began to get cold, and so, got up and began to explore the area. Standing on a flat rock next to the lake, I began to see the clouds dissipating and the towers began to appear. Soon I became quite elated because I could see the towers and began to excitedly take pictures. As the towers again disappeared, we began the long trip back.  Climbing down over the boulders was difficult and required some care. We were soon back in the forest which sheltered us more from the weather. As I approached Refugio el Chileno, it started to snow again. So I went into the dining hall of which was full of hikers, bought a coke and took the last remaining seat. Hiking again, the snow stopped by the time I reached the last high point.  I hiked the rest of the way with Dan and we got a bit lost among the trails in the Refugio del Torres complex.  I left Dan to get a beer in the main dining hall where I found Heeja.  Heeja and I celebrated the completion of what we were told was the most difficult climb in the W trek, properly, over beers.

The next day, we walked to Refugio Cuernos. It started as a warm, pleasant day as we walked over rolling hills.  Early in the walk we came into view of Lago Nordenskjold, a large aquamarine lake, and we walked just above the lake for some time. The terrain was very open with firebrush with its bright red flowers, low calafate shrubs with berries, and many small beech trees. The views over the lake and to the mountains above us were continuous. The wind began to pick up and soon we were under siege.  We were struck by powerful gusts.  One hit me and I suddenly found myself sitting by the trail.  Nearly everyone was knocked down and Steve lost his hat. We had to stop during gusts and brace ourselves with our hiking poles. We continued around the lake and came to Refugio Cuernos which consisted of a main building with small cabins up the hill. I shared one of the nice cabins with Denise and Dan.

I had been having trouble using my Chilean currency because no one want to change the large bills, so I had to use my credit card instead.  So in the afternoon, I bought everyone drinks to use some of the currency.  At the refugio, I saw an Argentinian guide who we had seen while hiking and I asked him about his mate gear which consisted of a thermos and a large cup with a metal straw. The cup was full of herbs and he poured hot water from the thermos into it. He said he made his own herb mix and liked his bitter. He said that mate was an important part of social gatherings. People would gather, not talking much, but when they drank the mate, they began talking. He let me drink a cup which tasted like herb tea and told me that few of the foreign clients drank the whole cup.

While we were at dinner in the dining hall, the staff lit fires in the woodstoves in our cabins so they became pleasantly warm. The dining hall had enormous windows with views up to the Cuernos formations above and over the lake. In the evening, the wind had died down, so I went down to the lake and took pictures.  It was a beautiful evening.

On Friday, November 16, we continued walking above the lake. After a couple of hours, we reached Campamento Italian which was a tent campground with primitive rest rooms raised into the air. By the time we reached the camp, it was overcast with occasional sprinkles. From the camp, we climbed up the Valle Frances on a rugged trail above the raging Rio Frances. For some time we hiked on a narrow moraine in the forest. As we climbed, we heard the boom of an avalanche from the large Glacier Frances above us. Soon we hiked out of the forest onto a level, rocky area which was the first viewpoint. Clouds limited our views but the glacier above us was clearly visible. At the top we heard another boom and saw yet another collapse and an avalanche of ice flow down from the glacier. There was another mirador above us but we were told to turn around if there was limited visibility at this first mirador, so we descended to Campamento Italiano. From the camp, we hiked for miles above the lake through the remains of a previous forest fire. I dropped back for a while to hike alone, enjoying the views of lakes, the mountains and the very unique countryside.
Around a bend, I came to a view of large Lago Pehoe and soon spotted Refugio Grande, our destination for the day. It had a large modern building with many brightly colored tents behind it. We were supposed to stay in tents with sleeping pads, sleeping bags and pillows provided. We became quite frustrated when we found that these items would be difficult to obtain. With negotiations and threats, we finally got the pads and bags. We never got pillows. Four people got very light bags and Denise had to negotiate additional blankets for them. After this, we spent some time in the bar, and I had two calafate sours, like pisco sours but using the local berries.

On Saturday, we hiked out of Refugio Grande, up a canyon, over a pass and into open country with small lakes and views over Lago Grey. There were large chunks of ice floating in the lake. We reached mirador grey were we had grand views of enormous Greys Glacier, the lake and the surrounding mountains. There we again met two other women from Colorado and took pictures with them. We then hiked down to Refugio Grey which was a lovely building with a long front porch. As we sat on the porch eating our lunch, a red chimango caracara landed near us hoping for food. The refugio was nice with pleasant wooden furniture and photos of the national park on the walls.

Waiting for our next activity, we sat in the deck chairs on the porch in the warm sun, looking at the high jagged ridge above us and at a condor soaring high above. A bit later, we got onto a small motorboat to cross the lake to La Isla o Nunatuk in order to walk on Greys Glacier.  The boat ride was bumpy with the wind blowing spray onto us. We disembarked onto the rocky island and our guide led us on a quick climb up the rugged trail to the glacier.  Twice, we had to climb ladders. On the top we put on the harness and crampons we had been given and were given a helmet and ice ax. After brief instructions, we climbed onto the glacier.  We visited a deep blue hole where small rocks on the surface had melted ice and we visited a number of other holes and cavities taking many pictures. We also climbed to viewpoints of the large glacier descending to the lake. Walking on the glacier was fun but the wind picked up and soon I was cold.  I was glad to climb down the rocky trail to the boat.  The mountains were dramatic above the glacier including a view of Paine Grande, the tallest mountain in Torres del Paine.

During the night in Refugio Grey, I awoke to find it pitch black in our rooms.  All the lights were off in the building. I had kicked my headlamp onto the floor and could not find it to go to the toilet. I left the room but could not find the bathroom but finding my way back to our room with my hands, I did manage to guess which door was ours.

On Sunday, we hiked back on the same route to Refugio Grande.  I got up early and started the hike before the main group to give myself plenty of time, as did a few others. Back at Refugio Grande after snacks and coffee, we got on a catamaran for the half hour ride across Lago Pehoe to where we met our van for the ride to El Chalten. With this, we completed the 44 mile W trek in Torres del Paine.

Los Glaciares National Park and Monte Fitzroy

From Torres del Paine, our driver was Raoul, and Raoul drove slowly. We did not ride far before we crossed the border into Argentina where we had to stop and go in an office to show our passports.  We went into a nearby store and restaurant to exchange our remaining Chilean currency for Argentinian Pesos. After driving across the Pampas, we started down a beautiful incline into the valley of the Rio Santa Cruz with views out to Lago Argentino in the direction towards El Calafate. Descending, Raoul pulled off the road to look under the hood after getting an engine warning light.  He talked about going into El Calafate for assistance but since it was Sunday evening, we persuaded him to turn north and continue to our destination, El Chalten. It was a beautiful drive around the large lake. We arrived at our hotel in El Chalten around 9:00 pm.  The hotel was nice with high ceilings and large rooms and a pleasant common area in which to sit. El Chalten is a small mountain town and gateway to Los Glaciares National Park.  In 1985 Chile and Argentina settled a border dispute by agreeing that this area was in Argentina, and the country began encouraging the development of the town as a tourism center. We ate at a restaurant called La Tapera which had fabulous food.  I had trout with a cheese sauce and a vegetable pastry.

Monday was rainy and windy in El Chalten and the guide said this was the best hiking day to skip.  So I stayed in town and did not go on the group hike. I took laundry to be done and Vaune, Dan and I walked to the pharmacy so Dan could get medicine for his bronchitis and Vaune could get a brace for her sore knee. Dan went back to the hotel and Vaune and I went to an outdoor shop, a gift shop and a bookstore. We went into a new café and had coffee, fresh squeezed orange juice and delicious lemon meringue pie.  The coffee had not been good in the refugios, so it was wonderful drinking great coffee. We then walked to the park headquarters and got a briefing on the trails and leave-no-trace practices from a ranger. In the afternoon, I rested, read the Post and listened to music. For dinner, we went back to La Tapera and I had one of the best steaks I have ever eaten. The great food was not expensive.

On Tuesday, I hiked directly out of El Chalten to Lago Torre. It rained for the whole hike. Pablo, our guide, was a young, intelligent Argentinian from Buenos Aires who was very knowledgeable about the plants, geology and glaciers. We started through open steppe country and stopped to photograph beautiful yellow orchids. We hiked through the forest over one glacial moraine after another. After a couple of hours, we entered an area with a climax forest with very large lenga beech trees. We stopped for lunch at a backcountry camping area and then hiked on to Lago Torre, a moderately sized lake around which we could see large, snow-covered mountains. The lake was surrounded by a terminal moraine with only a few pioneer plants. The glacier had only recently retreated from those moraines. Pablo pointed up at a 45 degree angle to a flat spot on the shoulder of a mountain above us and told us that would be our destination tomorrow. At the far end of the lake, we saw the large Glacier Grande intersecting with the smaller Glacier Torre. Because of the clouds and rain, we could not see the higher peaks above us. We were quite soaked by the time we got to the lake, and I was quite cold. We climbed over the moraine and began our hike back to town.  Pablo and Denise talked about food the whole time which made me quite hungry.

That evening we went to Estancia Madsen for dinner. Andreas Madsen was a Danish man who arrived in Argentina in 1901. He eventually established his ranch, Estancia Cerro Fitz Roy, on the Rio de las Vueltas where he raised sheep and a family. Madsen was influential in various ways in the area and helped establish the national park. His house was small with small rooms and was constructed from a variety of scraps and materials, whatever was available. In the dining room, we sampled Argentinian wine and liquor and had a nice stew for dinner. In the rooms, there were pictures of Madsen and his friends and family.  One set of pictures showed the pumas he killed to protect his sheep.

On Wednesday, November 22, I went on a world-class day hike to Loma del Pliegue Tumbado. We started at the National Park Center where we saw a condor soaring above us. We hiked with Pablo up through the open steppe and again saw yellow orchids. We hiked on through flat, wet meadows and through beautiful forest composed of the lenga beech trees. There were views of the dramatic peak of Monte Fitzroy along the trail. Pablo showed us the pan de indio (indian bread) which is an edible mushroom growing like fruit on the trees.  I ate one of the mushrooms.  It didn’t have much flavor but was definitely edible. As we climbed the trees became shorter, and soon, we were above tree line climbing into the open, glacial terrain of the alpine area and walking through shallow, wet snow with bright sunshine. There were only small ground-cover plants on the ground. We had views of Fitzroy as we climbed and soon reached a large, level area where the views were astounding, with the Lago Torre below, where we had been the day before. Fitzroy towered above us but Cerro Torre was covered in clouds. We also had great views down to enormous Lago Viedma. We stopped for lunch shielded from the wind by large boulders, and a caracara, interested in our food, hovered above us in the wind. After lunch, the walk down was warm and pleasant with many views of Fitzroy. I added this hike to my list of the great day hikes in the world.

We had dinner at a tiny family restaurant and I had a nice, very creamy pumpkin soup and gnocchi. For desert, I had crepes with a rich dulce de leche sauce. After dinner, we were back in a van driving again through the insanely open pampas with views of Lago Viedma and a gorgeous sunset. I listened to music and dozed and got quite high on the beautiful landscape. We arrived late at our nice hotel in Calafate, our last town in Patagonia.

Perito Moreno Glacier

On Thanksgiving day, we took a boat ride to see Perito Moreno Glacier in Los Glaciares National Park. Flying from Santiago to Puntos Arenas we had seen the enormous extent of the ice fields in the area from the plane. We boarded a large, fast boat on a dock outside of El Calafate and began traveling on Lago Argentina. The boat sped across the lake for over an hour to a stopping point where we walked a short distance over a black sand beach and into a dense, temperate rain forest. The trees were enormous including the Abuelo (grandfather) tree, a particularly large beech tree. The forest was dense at this location with a heavy understory because of the proximity to the Pacific Ocean and the prevailing winds which brought moisture from the ocean.  Walking a bit through the forest, we reached a beautiful waterfall in a number of sections starting far above us.

The lake was enormous and we traveled up a large finger of the lake with high snowcapped mountains above. It was fiord-like with vertical, forest-covered walls. At our second stop, we walked for a half an hour to an open area where we admired the glacier high above us and pointed Mayo Peak across the lake. We ate lunch in the open area by a creek, enjoying the scenery.

Back on the boat, taking pictures from the deck, after another half hour, we began to see the large Perito Moreno glacier ahead. Close to the glacier, the pilot turned the boat to travel along of the 70 meter high front of the glacier. The front was jagged and broken with deep blue crevices. Several times while we were watching, large chunks of ice broke away, falling in a cascade into the water making a booming sound and a large splash. There were remnants of the glacier floating in front of the wall and out into the lake. As we moved toward the disembarkation dock on the side of the lake, a condor flew across the cliffs above us and made a beautiful turn to land on the side of the cliff. It landed near where another condor was already perched.

We disembarked and climbed up a series of carefully engineered walkways ascending the cliffs. Along the way and at the top we looked down on the incredibly vast top of the glacier.  At the top, we boarded a van for the very scenic drive back to El Calafate.  Along the way, the driver pointed out a very distant view of the Torres in Chile.  Back in town, on this Thanksgiving Day, I had a very nice dinner with a salad containing soft-boiled eggs, a pork shoulder with a delicious sauce, and mashed sweet potatoes.

Buenos Aires

On the Friday after Thanksgiving, a few of us flew to Buenos Aires where I had a full day layover on Saturday.  Vaune, Heeja, Martin and I took a shuttle from the airport to downtown Buenos Aires where we stayed in an older hotel.  The hotel was a bit rundown, but the room Martin and I shared was surprisingly quiet given its location in the busiest part of the downtown. From the front of our hotel, located on Avenida 9 de Julio, we were close to El Obelisco, the tall obelisk commemorating the founding of the city. At the end of our block was Calle Levalle, a pedestrian-only street with many restaurants, shops and entertainment venues, some a bit sleazy and some nicer. Heeja and I stopped in one of the small empanada shops for a snack. We walked around the area looking for the new Pacific Gallery mall.  I suppose we looked lost because a local man stopped us and asked if we needed assistance and told us how to get to the mall and about other places and neighborhoods to visit.

We found the mall and entered the portion of it that was an art gallery and performance center. We came to an open balcony where body painting was on exhibit with women, wearing only thongs, painted in intricate and colorful artistic designs while people took pictures. This was above the elegant and very new retail mall below.  We toured the galleries around the balcony, displaying local artists in a range of styles including fantastic and surreal paintings. The mall is in a Beaux Arts building constructed in the 1890s. The interior has been reconstructed in an historical manner with large, domed spaces and frescos.

From there, we walked towards the Atlantic Ocean and came to a large redevelopment area along canals which had once been a shipping, warehouse and industrial area.  The redevelopers kept the large cranes which were on display along with an old sailing ship in the canal. We ate in an upscale restaurant in a former warehouse building.  I ate a steak with a fried egg on it.

On a beautiful, pleasant Saturday morning, we went to the Plaza Lavalle by the Teatro Colon, the large historic opera house, to participate in one of the free walking tours.  Our guide, Juan, turned out to be a young urban design instructor and a concert violinist. He was very erudite, and I was surprised and pleased to be going on an urban planning tour. Juan explained that Buenos Aires always prided itself on being city in the European style, although he said it was a city characterized along most streets by a mix of buildings including the old and the new and the elegant and the ugly. There were many neoclassical style buildings, since the city was purposely rebuilt during the 1880s and 1890s when Argentina was at the peak of its economic success based on the export of beef. Juan told us that older buildings have frequently been demolished and redeveloped with the modern and the economically expedient. We walked through a number of lovely small and large parks with enormous fig trees, palm trees and jacaranda trees, including Plaza San Martin with its statue of San Martin, the great hero of Argentinian independence.  We were very fortunate to be in the city when the jacarandas were in bloom with their beautiful purple flowers. We talked about a jarring and controversial art-deco skyscraper from the 1920s which I actually liked. For a break we crowded into a small empanada shop and ate empanadas on the grassy slope of the large park across the street. We visited a small memorial park, which was where the Israeli embassy had been destroyed in a terrorist attack. We finished our tour at Plaza Francia with its large Saturday craft market.

After walking through the market with its fine crafts, we wandered into an old church and then into an energetic teen festival in a large complex with wild colors, electronic art attractions and a bandstand with live music and teens dancing. From there we visited the famous Recoleta Cemetery and found the grave of Eva Peron. We walked further and stopped to rest in the nice outdoor area of a restaurant adjacent to a park with a table full of drinks, snacks, salads, sandwiches and ice cream for desert. It was a beautiful day, pleasantly warm, and we enjoyed relaxing in the cool shade. Walking back to our hotel, the streets were empty and the shops were closed because of the final game of a South American soccer tournament with two Argentinian teams playing.

In the evening we went to a tango show that we had found in the Borges art center in the Pacific Gallery. It included a great four piece tango band with accordion, piano, stand up bass, and violin. They played wonderful music with two fine singers, male and female, and eight dancers, dancing passionately with extravagantly athletic moves. It was a great finish to my Buenos Aires experience.

In all, I experienced another world in the far southern parts of South America, vaguely familiar like a dream, but with its own unique beauty.

 

 

Wales

Llanberis and Snowdon

This is the day I was kidnapped. On Monday, September 3, I took the train from London to Bangor, Wales.  When the train got near Conwy, it was running just above the beach and the ocean waves. When I arrived at the Bangor station, I called the Barron car rental office where I had a car reserved and they said they would come and pick me up. A man drove up in a car and got out.  It was a large sedan and he was having trouble keeping it running. He motioned for me to get in and I said “Barron car rental?” and he answered in the affirmative. So I put my luggage in the trunk and got into the front passenger seat. I asked him again whether he was from the car rental office and he again answered in the affirmative, although I had some difficulty understanding him with his accent. We drove through town and I could see by the signs that we were headed for the next town of Caernoffen. I said that the car office was in Bangor and he seemed to say that there was also an office in Caernoffen. He pulled into what looked like an industrial operation with assorted outdoor storage and stopped the car and got out and told me to follow him. A man in the second story window above us started talking to the driver in Welsh.  The driver now realized he had the wrong passenger.

The driver asked me for the phone number of the car hire company and called them and agreed to take me to Bangor to Barron’s office. The people at the car company thought that the whole thing was hilarious, that I had a special tour of Caernoffen and they did not charge me the extra fee for the pickup. After all the formalities and forms, I drove out of the parking lot working hard to remember to drive on the left. The direction lady on my phone helped a great deal as did the many roundabouts and signs. My problems started in my destination town, LLanberis, where I made a wrong turn into a secure facility and had to do a three point turn to get back out. I stopped at a parking lot to take pictures of the beautiful lake and the rugged mountains behind it. Following the phone instructions, I turned into town and immediately came to a barrier for road construction and was forced to drive up the hillside into the residential part of town on streets not much wider than my car. I called the hotel and the woman on the phone helped me find my way.

The Dolafon guest house was a lovely, large old house recessed back from the street. My room was a large attic room up three flights of stairs with a bath but no shower. It turned out to be a great location in the small mountain village convenient for what I wanted to do, with a small grocery next door and a pub across the street.  Immediately after checking in at the guest house, I walked two blocks to the mountain rail station for the train ride up Mount Snowdon, the highest mountain in Wales. I generally have a rule that I don’t climb mountains that you can drive up or ride a train up.  I asked the women at the counter when the next ticket would be available, and she said that I could buy a ticket for the last run of the day at 5:00 pm. I had time to kill, so I walked from the Dolafon on the main street into the village. A few blocks down the central main street were restaurants, a laundry, which I needed after two weeks of travel, and several outdoor shops.  At one of the outdoor shops, I bought a hiking guide and some more socks. This was clearly a village catering to hikers and climbers. I bought a cone at the ice cream shop and back at the station, I bought a beer in the restaurant.

I got on the train, which was a cog railway. We climbed through a bit of forest and by a waterfall but were soon above the trees.  A stark mountain landscape surrounded us, with sheep scattered over the grassy meadows and steep peaks above us.  At places the train was above vertical cliffs and below were creeks and lakes shining in the late day sun. Near the top, I could see the sunlight shining on the sea beyond the mountains. After climbing for about 45 minutes, the train stopped at the top by the visitor’s center and café, and I climbed above a short distance to the summit which was a small, circular area about twenty feet in diameter at 3,560 feet above sea level. On top, the wind was very strong and the 360 degree views were incredible. Then, we enjoyed a beautiful descent as the sun dropped in the sky down into the mountain village.

The Carneddau and the Glyderau

      O Solitude! if I must with thee dwell,

      Let it not be among the jumbled heap

     Of murky buildings; climb with me the steep,

John Keats

On Tuesday, September 4, I drove from Llanberis over Pen Y Pass to Llyn Ogwen. Llyn is a Welsh word for lake.  The Welsh, like other peoples, claim King Arthur as their own and some say that his sword was thrown into Llyn Ogwen. This day, I intended to hike the high Carneddau loop starting at Llyn Ogwen, a hike of about eleven miles with an elevation gain of over 3,000 feet. I parked on the shoulder of the busy road across from the lake and asked other hikers to make sure the parking spot was legal. From there, I started a long climb through steep open country following a stream until I came to a basin containing a lake called Ffynnon Lloer. However, the trail did not go to the lake but instead circled around the foot of the high ridge above me and began climbing up a very rugged trail over boulders. At one place, I had to put my poles in my pack for a short, hands and feet scramble. The trail continued to climb steeply up to a high point called Pen-yr Ole Wen.

From there, I started a long walk along the Carneddau ridge , and as I did, clouds streamed in from the west, and I was soon walking in the dense fog of the clouds. The trail on top of the ridge was relatively level and easy and, except for in a couple of places, I had no trouble following it.  Even when I got a bit off the trail, into wetter terrain just below the top, I corrected by working my way back to the top of the ridge. I had seen a couple of people ahead of me climbing to the ridge, but now, I was alone and could see no one else.  It was an eerie feeling walking by myself in the clouds, but I was comforted by the ever present sheep.

The clouds were coming from the west so I couldn’t see any views in that direction.  I was sure the views would have been out to the ocean. I ascended to another high point, Carnedd Dafydd. Further on, the ridge narrowed and I was sure there were dramatic drop offs which I couldn’t see on either side. Views of the basins and valleys below on the east side, from where I had climbed, appeared and then disappeared into the clouds. I sat by the trail to eat my lunch, and when I started again, I ran into a group of seven people. I asked them if they were a group and they told me they were a fellowship group from Lancashire hiking for the day. The leader asked me where I was from and I told him.  He said he could tell I was not from around there. I asked him: “How can you tell?” They were doing the same loop but in the opposite direction.

From there, I began to ascend to Carnedd Llewelyn, the second highest point in Wales, named after a famous Welsh prince. At the top, I was completely in a cloud. I descended the eastern ridge and was soon in sunshine. I slowed my pace and explored the ridge and stopped to take pictures of the wonderful scenery on the east side. With some scrambling over boulders, I descended to a saddle where I had trail options. I could scramble an exposed trail section to a small summit or I could descend to another lake below.  Instead, I took a very narrow and rough trail that followed the contour across the face of the peak.  I soon came back to the main trail which descended the ridge through very grassy pastures.  At a junction, I took a side trail in the direction of the car.  I descended into a pasture densely population with sheep.  I came to a gate which was padlocked, so I had to climb over it. I was apparently somewhere I wasn’t supposed to be. I followed a trail by a canal and had to step over a short wire fence. There by a macadam road, I found a sign telling me to go down on the road to the highway. When, I got back down to the valley bottom, I looked back at Carnedd Llewelyn where I had hiked in the clouds, and it was now clear with blue sky above it.  Oh well.

Back in Llanberis, I bought a pint of ale at the grocery which I drank while I took a very nice warm bath in my attic room. I went across the street for dinner at the pub and had a nice Welsh Cottage Pie, which was a beef stew with a crust composed of mash potatoes and cheese.

On the next morning, I drove back to Llyn Ogwen to hike another loop hike in the Glyderau. This would be a six mile hike with just under 3,000 feet of elevation gain.  It turned out to be quite a bit more challenging than that sounds. It was mostly overcast when I started my climb from the lake with the well-constructed trail following a stream with small falls. I climbed steeply up to a stone wall and climbed over the wall on triangular ladders. Above the wall, I was a bit lost in a large grassy area with a lake.  Possibly, I took the wrong trail at an intersection, but I spotted the trail continuing up the ridge and walked to it through the tall grass. I climbed steeply up the trail to the top of Glyder Fach where there were distant views to the east and west and over the peaks to the sea. By the time I summited, the sun was out and it was very clear. On top, teeth-like boulders formed interesting rock sculptures.

With all the rocks on the top, the trail was not clear and I walked forward and backtracked several times. I came to a large, fantastic formation called Castell y Gwynt, Castle of the Winds.  It was clear I could not go around the formation on the right where there was a drop off. I tried going around the left on a rough trail that went steeply down, but I needed to continue on the ridge beyond the Castle and the trail did not appear to be going that way.  I saw others scrambling over the Castle. So I went back to it and tried to scramble over it. I scrambled up the rocks to a point where climbing became too technically difficult and then carefully scrambled back down. Going back around the left, I scrambled down the steep trail and came to a grassy area where I could see the trail continuing up the ridge to the top of Glyder Fawer, the third highest point in Wales. As I climbed, I passed a number of interesting, sharp rock formations. From the top, I could see back to the Carneddau and Carnedd Llewelyn where I had climbed the day before. I could also see the top of Snowdon, where I had ridden the mountain train. I could clearly see Llanberis, far below by the large lake.

 

The descending trail started gently following a series of cairns. Soon, however, the trail became more steep and difficult with switchbacks on a trail covered with loose, fist-sized rocks. Climbing down proved to be slow and difficult. I descended down into an area known as the Devil’s Kitchen, an area with interesting rock formations and rugged terrain. The trail appeared to disappear over the edge of the Devil’s Kitchen, and at the edge, I could see the trail drop vertically. The trail was constructed of boulders of various shapes and sizes and many were slanted. At one point as I descended, I had to drop my poles and scramble down boulders. At a couple of spots, I had to descend seated on my rear end. The trail reminded me of the climb Sam and Frodo had to undertake, except I was going down. It was slow going.  I came down behind a couple about my age who were struggling.  They had only one pair of hiking poles between them.  My poles proved to be essential, keeping my balance on the very steep and rugged trail. Eventually, I got down to a place where the trail became wide and more level and paved with boulders. The trail went around and above beautiful Llyn Idwal. From the end of the lake, it was an easy descent to the car.

The snack bar in the visitor’s center at the trailhead was closing, but I managed to snag a very American diet coke. Back in Llanberis, I had dinner at the Pub and ate a nice, creamy chicken pie with a flaky crust; that was with the two most common sides of chips (french fries) and peas (washed down, of course, with a pint of British ale).  It had been a difficult, exhausting and very satisfying two days of hiking.  That evening, I had some difficulty going up and down the three flights of stairs to my attic room.

Caernarfon, Conwy, and the Great Orme

On Thursday, September 6, I drove to the town of Caernarfon. It was not a long drive on good roads and was no trouble out in the countryside. In town, it was more difficult because the roads were narrower and not well marked, but I found the parking lot below the castle. It was still raining and a bit early to go in the castle, so I used my umbrella and visited the shopping area in the center of town. Soon, I entered the castle and began exploring.  There was a large courtyard inside and from there, I climbed into the castle and up to the higher level.  I walked completely around the castle on the upper levels and climbed a number of towers using spiral stairs, reminding me of the towers in Tuscany. On the top of the towers, above the roof, I had to use my umbrella to protect my camera from the rain. From one tower, I could see the whole castle, the town and the river and bay beyond with many boats.

Caernarfon Castle was constructed under the direction of King Edward I of England as a part of his efforts to conquer Wales. The English constructed a number of castles starting at Conwy.  The famous castle builder Master James of Saint George designed the stone castles and supervised their construction.  The construction of Caernarfon began in 1283.  Edward I’s successor Edward II was born in the castle and became the first English Prince of Wales. In 1294, Madog ap Llywelyn led a Welsh revolt against the English, took Caernarfon Castle, and nearly destroyed it.  The English later retook the castle and rebuilt it.  The investiture of Charles, the current Prince of Wales, took place in Caernarfon Castle in 1969. The medieval castles in north Wales are all part of a UNESCO World Heritage Site.

I saw a film on the castle and went through several large rooms in the castle with displays describing how they were used.  The royal family stayed in the castle and there was a space where the church had been and a large area for the kitchen. There was a museum to the Welsh Fusiliers, including a display on their role in the American Revolution, and they had some not so nice things to say about General Washington.

After touring the castle, I drove back to Llanberis and walked a bit in the rain, stopping for a sandwich and cappuccino in a busy coffee shop near the guest house.  After lunch, I took a nap in my attic room.  When I woke, the sun was out and there was blue sky out the window. So, I went for a walk around one end of the lake and ended up at the ruins of Dolbadorn castle with its small tower. From the ruins and the tower, I had great views back over the lake. From the castle, I kept walking to the posh Royal Victoria Hotel where I stopped for a pint of ale.  That evening I splurged with reservations at the higher end Pike Restaurant where I ate Thai fish cakes, gnocchi carbanora, and a toffee tart with ice cream.

The following morning, I drove to Conwy. Most of the drive was on a freeway which was easy driving, but again driving in the town was more difficult with roundabouts, narrow streets, and cars parked in the drive lanes. I first visited the Conwy castle, another castle built by Edward I, which was not as well-maintained as Caernarfon but was interesting with beautiful views from the towers to the town and the surrounding hills and estuaries. The castle had a chapel with stain glass windows. The cook rooms were on one side of the castle and on the other were the royal residences. Underneath the residences was the dungeon.

 

 

The nice lady at the castle admission center persuaded me to buy a double ticket for a couple of pounds more to allow me to tour Plas Mawr, a house in the town from the Elizabethan era. The house has been reconstructed inside to recreate Elizabethan life with authentic plaster work, antique furnishings and even food on the tables and in the kitchen. The first floor had a large room for greeting people along with a kitchen and brewery. On the second floor, I found the master bedroom of the aristocratic owner, a small room for his man servant, and his wife’s room. The large main room of the house, used for feasting and entertainment, with colorful plaster work and beautiful furniture, was on the second floor. The headset program featured actors playing the part of Elizabethan residents.

In the main room, I talked with a staff woman about historic preservation.  She knew surprisingly little about American history.  She had just discovered Lewis and Clark, and I told her a bit about the American Civil War. She mentioned the English Civil War, and I informed her that the English Civil War was also fought in Virginia. We talked about Trump. She didn’t know that he isn’t popular in the United States but thought that everyone liked him. Plas Mawr had the best gift shop I had seen in Britain and I bought dragon earrings for Karen and music CDs for myself. Next I walked a bit in the town and on the old stone walls around the town where I had great views.  I stopped for fish and chips which seem to be the thing to do in Conwy.

I next drove though Deganwy and Llandudno to the Great Orme Country Park, which is a large headland park jutting into the sea. The park has a large pasture with many sheep, surrounded by stone walls.  The views of the coastline and the sea were heart-stopping beautiful from high on the uplands under broken clouds and sunshine. I decided that Great Britain is basically a large sheep pasture from Scotland to Wales and from the top of high peaks to the sea with people who are friendly and even-keeled with a delightfully understated sense of humor.

 

England

London

London is a city of flowers and monumental stone, of great words and heroes.

I arrived at London’s Heathrow Airport in the morning on August 20 after an overnight redeye flight having had just one or two hours of sleep. Some members of our walking group were with me and together we found our way to our hotel via the Heathrow Express train and the Tube.  We had to immediately figure out the ticket machines for the Tube but it wasn’t so difficult.

After storing our luggage at the hotel, Leslie and Kathy and I took a walk to Hyde Park. To get to the park, we walked through the higher-end Earls Court neighborhood with rows of townhomes and through commercial areas with shops and stores.  We specifically noticed the Ferrari dealer as an indicator of affluence. At the park, we started by admiring the Albert Memorial with its beautiful sculpture and golden statue of Prince Albert, Queen Victoria’s much loved husband. Prince Albert died of Typhoid Fever, an infectious waterborne disease common in the 19^th century, in 1861 at age 42. Victoria remained in mourning and wore black the rest of her long life. The memorial was completed in 1876. Across Kensington Road from the memorial, we admired the Royal Albert Hall, the large round concert hall, opened in 1871 and constructed mostly of red brick with neoclassical architecture and friezes. It too, was dedicated by Victoria as a memorial to her prince.

It was a nice, partly sunny Sunday and there were many people in the park.  I noticed that in portions of the park the grass was mown but in other areas it was left in a more natural, unmown condition. We walked through the South Flower Walk in Kensington Gardens and enjoyed its beautiful flowers. We continued on to the Serpentine Lake where it was crossed by the stone Serpentine Bridge which was constructed in the 1820s and then to the Princess Diana memorial fountain, a roughly circular stream of moving water, in which children were playing on this warm Sunday.

Next, we visited the Victoria and Albert Museum. On the way, we passed the Royal Geographic Society with its sculpture of Ernest Shackleton.  Leslie and I agreed that he was likely our favorite explorer with his unsuccessful trip to Antarctica but with his incredible adventures and success at saving his team.   We didn’t explore all the exhibits at the V & A Museum but instead enjoyed its public spaces and architecture. Mostly it is a late nineteenth century brick building with industrial and neoclassical motifs but also with some interesting postmodern structural elements added on the front.  The large courtyard was full of people with children playing in the parabolic water feature. We rode the tube back to the hotel and that evening we had our first English meal at Lilly’s near the hotel.  I had a vegetable pastry with Yorkshire pudding and gravy and, of course, a nice pint of cask ale.

On Monday, we rode the tube to the Hampstead area of London. Adam, a friend of Kris Ashton who lived in London, met us and walked with us through the neighborhood describing what he knew about the area. We walked through commercial areas comprised of shops, restaurants and pubs in old buildings.  Adam told me that Hampstead was originally a separate village overtaken by the growth of London. We passed a very old pub and arrived at a central square where, on the corner, there was a coffee shop which had once been a book shop where George Orwell had worked.  There was a marker memorializing Orwell. Kris had cleverly given us each an assignment of a person’s name to research and talk about briefly when we arrived at the appropriate location. I had drawn Orwell’s name and talked at this location a bit about the great essayist and novelist. I provided some aphoristic quotes which seemed appropriate given the situation at home.

A people that elect corrupt politicians, impostors, thieves and traitors are not victims, but accomplices.

Freedom is the freedom to say that two plus two make four.

In a time of deceit telling the truth is a revolutionary act.

We continued to walk into the residential portion of the neighborhood with its Georgian, nineteenth century and older homes. We came to the Keats house and Kris had assigned a couple of people to talk about Keats.  They talked about Keats and read some excerpts from his poetry. Keats was one of the great romantic poets who lived in the house from 1818 to 1820 and composed some of his best poetry while living there with his friend Charles Brown. In the summer of 1818, Keats and Brown walked through northern England, Scotland and Wales but had to cut the trip short because of a severe sore throat. He died in 1821 in Rome of tuberculosis at the age of twenty-five.  Keats is known for his sensuous and monumental poetry, but he also wrote:

Give me women, wine and snuff

You may do so sans objection

Till the day of resurrection;

For bless my beard they aye shall be

My beloved trinity.

During those two years, this house in Hampstead must have been an interesting place to visit.

We walked on to Hampstead Heath, which is large open space park famous for its high hill overlooking the city.  It was another large park which, like other London parks had natural areas with in it, including large areas of unmown grass and forestland. We walked by the lovely Hampstead Ponds which reflected the old townhomes beside it and then climbed Parliament Hill.  From the top of the hill, we had a grand view of old London down to the Thames. In the center of the view, stood the postmodern Shard with Saint Paul’s Cathedral next to it with its grand dome. It was hard not to notice all the construction cranes in the view. London gives the impression of being vibrantly prosperous.

From the hill, we walked through the dense deciduous forest with its great diversity of tree species.  We walked through a large, open park area to arrive at the Kensington Mansion where we stopped for refreshment.  We walked from Hampstead Heath to the old Spaniards Inn where we had lunch. The Inn was built in 1585 on a tollgate boundary and the old tollgate building is still located across the road. It is sometimes said that Keats wrote Ode to a Nightingale at the Spaniards Inn and Dickens wrote about it in the Pickwick Papers. Kris read the section of the Pickwick Papers describing the Inn and we had a nice lunch of well-prepared pub food.

From the Inn, we rode on top of a double decker bus to another commercial area and walked steeply downhill to Highgate Cemetery, and walked through the stone gate and between chapels to a courtyard where we met Neal, our guide for a tour of the cemetery. With Neal in the lead, we began climbing into the cemetery. The cemetery is a place of mournful celebration with sometimes elaborate and beautiful death monuments engulfed in intense vegetation. There are many stone angels in Highgate, some are sculpted as in mourning while others are shown joyful for the entrance of the soul into eternal life.

Most of the graves are from the Victorian era although new graves are still being inserted among the densely packed burials. Neal described the cemetery telling stories in a very entertaining manner with jokes and laughs and winks.  He explained that cemeteries were places you could laugh in celebration of the lives of those whose bodies were now interred in the graves.  Neal described the symbolic nature of the monuments: the many urns partially covered with carvings of fabrics represented the release of souls contained within. The stone wreaths represent eternal life. Highgate celebrates life and death as the solemn monuments gradually decay and are swallowed by never ending green riot of life.

Neal told us many stories about the graves.  At one mausoleum, he told a long story about a lesbian writer and her two conflicting lovers. Despite her inclinations, the writer had written disparagingly about gay and lesbian practices. Neal said he didn’t favor such disparaging terms, but didn’t mind being called and “old queen,” which he said he was. He also told us that he was against Brexit because he favored immigration to Britain as long as the immigrants worked hard.  He showed us the graves of immigrants who had worked hard.  Today, as in the past, you have to be wealthy to be buried in Highgate. He said that today a grave in Highgate cost 20,000 pounds.

After the tour, we visited the newer portion of the cemetery and found the grave of Doug Adams, the author of Hitchhiker’s Guide to the Galaxy.  Kris had assigned Leslie and Stacy to talk about Adams and Leslie talked while Stacy cleverly acted out the narrative in pantomime.  We next found the boldly monumental grave of Karl Marx and the assigned people talked about Marx. In bold gold letters, the grave read “Workers of All Lands Unite,” and there were a number of flower bouquets and tokens left on the grave of Karl Marx.

 

On the tube ride home, I left the group to visit Camden Market which a guide book had said was the top “alternative” tourist stop in London with its large outdoor market.  Unfortunately, when I arrived, the outdoor market was closed.  Generally, in Britain I found that, except for restaurants and pubs, commercial activity stopped by 5:00 pm. The commercial area and shops in Camden were obviously geared toward the interests of very young adults and many of the young folks there were relatively outrageous with their punk tattoos and fashions. I immediately escaped and walked a half a mile to Regents Park which was another lovely, very large park.  I visited flower and sculpture gardens, found the nearest tube station and managed to find my way back to the station near our hotel.  I ate dinner with some of the group at the Atlas which was a Mediterranean restaurant, with its façade covered in Ivy, where I had a nice, spicy penne dish.

On Tuesday, August 21, we took the tube to Westminster Abbey. This grand, gothic cathedral is one of the great religious buildings in Britain but also a key center of English culture and history. Under overcast skies, we spent some time admiring the details of the building.  Like most great cathedrals, one views it a section at a time without necessarily grasping the totality from the outside. It is easier to see it all from the inside and we entered the enormous space and used audio headsets as our guide.  The inside was highly ornate with its gothic arches and gilded sculptures. The primary activity in the Cathedral appears to be viewing the graves of kings and queens and other heroes and artists. I located the graves of the great scientists Isaac Newton and Charles Darwin.  I found the tomb of Elizabeth I to be particularly grand and was interested that she was entombed above her half-sister and rival Mary I. I enjoyed seeing the grave of George Frederick Handel who wrote Water Music, one of my favorite compositions, well designed outdoor music with bold statements and flowing movement, composed for George I so that there could be fitting music for a royal celebration along the Thames River.  Handel’s grave was in the poet’s corner where a number of writers were buried including Chaucer and Dickens. I spent some time finding the grave of Edward I whose castles I would be visiting in Wales. After visiting the Abbey, we boarded a train for Bath.

 

On Friday, August 31, after visiting Bath and walking the Dales Way, we returned to London and the rest of the group left for home or other places. I spent a sunny and warm weekend on my own as a tourist in London. On Sunday, I started by going to the British Museum which was another large, neo classical building, but on entering, I found the large, dramatic hall of postmodern design spiraling around the central structure. At the morning opening, tour groups were already crowding the beginning, Egyptian exhibit featuring the Rosetta Stone, so I went to an exhibit on family associations in Polynesian and Australian cultures and down into the African exhibit where I was impressed by the intricately carved art and designs which have had such an influence on modern art and design. Then I toured the South and East Asian exhibits and was impressed with the varied collection of Buddhist art.

Then finally, I toured the Egyptian, Assyrian and Greek sections with their uniquely monumental art. I found the Assyrian section to be particular unique because I had never seen such a large collection of art from ancient Mesopotamia.  The sculptures were very large, intricate and representative of the gods and kings they depicted. There were also large guardian statues, winged beasts with human heads. I blitzed quickly through the Greek collection with its sculptures from the Parthenon. I suppose much of this collection probably came to the museum in a legitimate manner, but I couldn’t help but think that these were the spoils from the conquest of the British Empire.

I found the exhibits on ancient Britain to be the most interesting and most relevant to my trip.  They included artifacts from the Bronze and Iron ages and from the Roman and Anglo-Saxon periods. The Sutton Hoo exhibit was particularly impressive, whose items were from an Anglo Saxon ship burial from the 6^th or 7^th centuries. The famous Sutton Hoo helmet is particularly beautiful.

I next took the tube to Trafalgar Square which was full of people listening to some talented street musicians. After photographing the square and St. Martins in the Field Church, I went into the National Gallery where I saw several nice Botticelli painting and one by Leonardo.  The collection of low country art was quite large and again was something new for me. I particularly liked the Vermeer paintings with their special light and clarity. I also enjoyed the dramatic Turner seascapes.

Back out in the square, I went into the large Waterstones bookstore which was very well stocked and I walked from the square through the Admiralty Arch and onto the Mall which was closed to vehicle traffic on Sundays, and to the lake in St. James Park. The park was full of people on this sunny Sunday. I walked on to Buckingham Palace, which was surrounded by a tall, ornate fence.  In front, there were many people on the steps of the Victoria Memorial with its gilt bronze angel and large statue of Queen Victoria. From the palace, I walked into Green Park with its carefully arranged, large trees. I rode the tube back to my hotel and my small efficiently arranged, “ethical” room and then ate fish and chips at an old pub around the corner.

But my peak day in London was certainly Saturday, September 1. I took the tube to a stop near the Millennial Bridge and after asking for directions, walked onto the pedestrian bridge across the Thames. From the bridge, I had a great view of the Thames water front in the morning light including views of St. Paul’s Cathedral. I arrived at the Tate Modern Art Museum for its 10:00 am opening and toured the free galleries which contained art from Monet to abstract expressionism, avant-garde sculpture and electronic art. I enjoyed the surrealism including Breton, Dali and Magritte and the pop art, including Russian pop art.

I had a ticket to see the Picasso 1932 exhibit and entered the rooms with a headset with an excellent descriptive program. The exhibit included all the work Picasso did in 1932 when he was fifty-one years old. During that year, Picasso was preparing for a show and worked in a range of styles and media, including oil painting, sculpture, charcoal line drawings and ink. He created series of works following themes like the woman in the red chair.  As the series progressed, he experimented with styles. There was so much production in so many styles it felt like the work of a team of artists. It gave me a new appreciation of the artist and his enormous imagination and work capacity. It was quite a trip into the mind of a master.

After the Tate Modern, I had a vegetarian pizza for lunch which was very nice with its Italian-style fresh crust and while I ate, I admired the view of St Paul’s and the northern shore of the Thames.

At 2:00 pm I had a ticket to see Othello performed at Shakespeare’s Globe Theatre, a wooden structure built like the original. I sat on the second level balcony and watched the performance which was energetic and passionate in the old style with simple props. At several points, the cast broke into singing and dancing.  This great tragic play really has a simple and somewhat absurd plot. With my hearing limitations, I could not hear everything that was said but could easily follow the story and could appreciate the depth of the words. Mark Rylance, a highly regarded stage actor, recently seen in Dunkirk and Bridge of Spies, gave an amazing performance of Iago, highly mobile and very entertaining.  Tony and Oscar winner André Holland played Othello with great strength.

Speak of me as I am; nothing extenuate,

Nor set down aught in malice: then must you speak

Of one that loved not wisely but too well,

The theatre was open to the sky and much of the audience was standing in front of the stage. As they likely did in the Elizabethan era, the actors interacted with the audience shaking hands or pointing or winking. Late in the performance I sat in the sun and became quite hot.  At the end of the play the cast came out singing for their final bow. It was clear the audience greatly appreciated the performance, and not completely realizing the intensity of the experience, at the end, I was surprised to discover tears running down my face.

After the play, I walked on the Thames through the postmodern reconstruction of the commercial riverside and across the old Tower Bridge and by the ancient Tower Castle to the Tube.  All along the way there were crowds of people enjoying the beautiful day by the River.

Bath

On Tuesday, August 21, after visiting Westminster Abbey, we rode a train to the World Heritage City of Bath. We visited the main square next to the beautiful Bath Abbey.  Small stone angels climb the ladder to heaven while a few go the wrong way. With some spare time, I went to the Henrietta House where we were staying, a guesthouse in an historic Georgian townhouse with lovely antique rooms, built in a curved row of townhomes, which with the other three quadrants formed a circle.  To get there I crossed the Avon River on the Pultney Bridge, an old stone bridge with the crossing enclosed by small shops. Leslie and Cathy and I walked through the old mansion containing the Holbourne Museum and into the Sydney Gardens, a lush park with a beautiful canal running through it.

We next visited the Roman Baths. The Baths were built by the Romans between 60 and 70 AD on the site of thermal springs which were likely sacred to the local Celtic people, who at this site probably worshipped the mother goddess Sulis, possibly the goddess of the sun.  The Romans combined Sulis with their goddess Minerva, the goddess of wisdom. The Romans dedicated the Bath temple to Sulis Minerva. One of symbols of Minerva is the owl and around town we saw colorful, modern owl sculptures.

The actual baths are surrounded by various English structures including a museum built in 1889.  We toured the modern interior of the museum with a good audio program and viewed a great variety of Roman artifacts from the site and the area. There were many coins which were often offerings to Sulis who was known to help recover stolen objects or curse the thieves. Tablets have been found with requests of the goddess.

Solinus to the goddess Sulis Minerva. I give to your divinity and majesty [my] bathing tunic and cloak. Do not allow sleep or health to him who has done me wrong, whether man or woman or whether slave or free unless he reveals himself and brings those goods to your temple

Hot water rose up from the limestone aquifers below and into a main pool which we saw bubbling. The Romans did not bathe in that pool because it was a sacred place of the gods.  Instead they engineering an intricate plumbing system which brought the water into the bathing pool and into hot, lukewarm and cold water rooms. The site includes ruins of the Roman temple and a sacrificial altar, and the museum displayed portions of the triangular pediment from the top of the structure onto which the museum projected color to show how it originally looked. The temple originally had a roof which was 100 feet high at its peak.

That evening we went to a pub known for its pies called The Raven and I ate a nice chicken pie.

On the Wednesday afternoon, after visiting Stonehenge in the morning, a group of us walked all over Bath. We started by visiting the Austen house where Jane Austen lived and wrote for a period of time. We saw a presentation on Austen and toured the site with various period furnishings and artifacts from Jane’s life and a life size figure interpreting what she may have looked like.  Then, we climbed further into Bath and visited the circular structure of townhomes at the Circus and the long, curved structure of townhomes called the Royal Crescent. Bath is known for its beautiful and livable urban fabric with narrow streets and simply designed buildings of two to three stories. The Royal Crescent and most of the buildings in Bath are constructed with honey colored limestone called Bath Stone. Most of the buildings were built in the 18^th century in the Georgian style and in all, there is a pleasant uniformity to the city broken by the hillside topography and the beautiful Avon River. From the Crescent, we continued to climb looking for views and then descended to a pub for pints and through the Royal Victoria Park and down to the central commercial area where I ate Pad Thai at a fancy Thai restaurant.

Stonehenge

It is impossible today to say what Stonehenge was or how it was used.  There are in fact hundreds of henge structures from the Neolithic period scattered around the British Isles. Most were constructed in at least a roughly circular pattern and most were enclosed by a ditch and embankment. It is likely that most were constructed in locations that had significance to the people over time and they likely were used to create special places separated from the common world. Stonehenge was located in a much larger “ritual landscape” where there are burial and ceremonial mounds, constructed linear features and other henges some of which were constructed before Stonehenge. Below the surface on Stonehenge and the other features in the area, various artifacts are found in large numbers, including stone tools, pottery and animal bones, which may have been the result of offerings or feasting.  Also, found are various types of human remains.

We arrived at Stonehenge on the morning of August 22. We had ridden on a bus through the beautifully open Cotswold Hills, where we spotted a prehistoric white horse engraved into the side of a hill. Arriving at the Stonehenge complex, we left our bus to get on another shuttle to take us up onto the bleak Salisbury plain to see Stonehenge.  There were many people there walking on the circular path around the site.  You can no longer enter the actual Stonehenge, but we had been given audio sets that provided a great deal of interesting information.

Stonehenge was constructed in phases between 3,300 and 2,400 BC with the ditch around the site likely being the first phase. The ditch may have been six feet deep at one time.  Ancient post holes are found throughout the site suggesting that various structures constructed from large timbers played an important role at Stonehenge over time. The ancient people appear to have begun placing standing stones on the site in its early phases. Although a southern entrance was present at various times, the primary entrance appears on the northeast aligned with sunrise at the time of the summer solstice.

There are two types of stones at Stonehenge today, the large sandstone sarsens which were quarried locally and weighed up to 50 tons and the smaller bluestones which likely were brought to the site from Wales from quarries approximately 180 miles away. After visiting the site, we enjoyed the small museum in the visitor's center and the reconstruction of what the homes of people looked like.

Stonehenge and the surrounding area were obviously a place where many people gathered for significant social, political or religious occasions or events. Some believe that Stonehenge was a pilgrimage site and that people may have visited it from substantial distances.  The teeth from a man in one grave in the area show that he had grown up in Germany. Like modern pilgrimage sites, Stonehenge may have been a place of healing. On this day, there were many people from all over the world at the site.

Archeologist Francis Pryor believes that Stonehenge was a sacred place for ancestors and the dead.  Stonehenge is linked to an ancient travel way, following natural features and with construction predating Stonehenge, which archaeologists call “the Avenue,” linking Stonehenge to the Avon River. Pryor believes that another very large henge complex a few miles away, called Durrington Walls, was a place for the living, with its wooden structure and surrounding village.  There are more signs of activity at the Durrington Walls site, and it could have been a place for feasting and funereal celebrations after which the body would be taken to the nearby Avon River and transported to Stonehenge for funeral rites.  Then the body would be buried in the barrows and mounds which can be seen all around Stonehenge or perhaps cremated and deposited on the site. A common ritual activity appeared to be placing cremated human remains in the ditches. It is also quite likely that Stonehenge was used for a variety of events and occasions under conditions of changing religious beliefs.  Also, it is important to understand the various construction projects at Stonehenge were themselves major ritual events with large numbers of people coming together for a common purpose.  Stonehenge could have also served political functions; religion and political power tended to be closely linked in ancient times.  Imagine how impressed another tribe might be if you brought them to Stonehenge to establish an alliance. Construction and use of Stonehenge likely ended by 1,500 BC.

Dales Way

On Thursday, August 23, we took a train from London to Ilkley.  That evening, I went into the All Saints’ Church and viewed the ancient, stone Saxon Crosses from the 9^th century that were originally a part of older churches which had been on the site. The next morning, we walked down to the stone bridge over the River Wharfe where the Dales Way walk begins. The Dales Way runs 82 miles from the southern end of the Yorkshire Dales National Park to Bowness-on-Windermere in the Lake District National Park. Our Colorado Mountain Club group, led by Kris Ashton, was taking seven days to complete the walk. The trail was relatively level, following the river, and we experienced what would be a constant along the Dales Way: walking through pastures full of sheep.

In the morning we walked through the graveyard of the old stone church near the village of Addingham and went into the church.  Inside, the organist was practicing what sounded like a Bach prelude.  I always loved listening to preludes and fugues played on church organs and was momentarily transported. We talked with the organist and I asked him what he was playing.  He said it was Mendelsohn who in fact did compose a small number of organ works. We walked on close to the river and through stands of trees and soon walked around the simple, but beautiful Fairfield Friends Meeting House.  We went inside and admired the simple benches and large wooden ceiling beams. It was one of the early meeting halls for what became known as the Quaker movement and a sign outside said that it was among the “top ten” sites for religious belief in England.

We continued walking through the rural countryside in a valley with steep hills on either side. We soon spotted stone ruins ahead which were the Priory at Bolton Abbey.  Originally, it had been an Augustinian monastery half of which was destroyed in 1540.  The remaining half continues to serve as the local parish church. A man outside the church told me about his favorite window and I went inside and enjoyed the stained glass.  Outside, I took pictures of the ruins. We had lunch in a tourist facility in a stone building. Walking along, we soon found ourselves in the Strid, a wooded section of the Wharfe River famous for its dangerous and deadly rapids, and there were signs warning against trying to cross it. The Strid is actually an ecologically important area preserving a diversity of deciduous trees and native flora. It is a lovely forest along the river.

As the forest ended, we came to the Barden Aqueduct crossing the river which still transports water, and we walked across the river on the path on the top of the aqueduct. We took a side trip to Appletreewick past a campground densely packed with tents.  It had become cold and rainy so we looked forward to stopping at the Craven Arms Pub, but it was so crowded that we decided to go ahead and walk to our destination for the day, Burnsall. Our entrance to the stone village of Burnsall was very scenic across a large, open meadow and a stone bridge.  We arrived at the Red Lion Inn an historic stone building. For dinner at the Inn, I ate fish and calamari and a fried, hard-boiled pheasant egg surrounded by black pudding.

 

In the morning, we started out from Burnsall.  As we were waiting to start walking, Leslie said “Onward, onward Christian soldiers,” and I started walking with that awful hymn, which I sang so many times growing up, ring in my brain.  In our hiking circles, we call a bad song playing in your head while you hike an “earworm.” The remedy that usually works for me is to think of a Beatles song to replace the earworm.  At breakfast, there was a framed poster on the wall for a local school festive in 1868 which described the various activities that would occur at the event.  It reminded me of the story about John Lennon, who was inspired by an old circus poster he had to write Being for the Benefit of Mr. Kite which turned out to be a great walking song to play in my mind.

For the benefit of Mr. Kite
There will be a show tonight on trampoline

There were a number of people on the trail as we walked, and as we passed, we said, “good morning” over and over. That made me silently take up another song.

I've got nothing to say but it's okay
Good morning, good morning, good morning

In popular music, there is nothing more British than Sgt. Pepper’s Lonely Hearts Club Band.

We continued this fourteen mile day walking by the river to Grassington where we went into the National Park visitor’s center. Outside the center, I met a family from Wales who were with two boxers. We talked about our boxers and what great dogs they were.  We agreed that they were a misunderstood breed since many people appeared to think they were scary, but we agreed they were a beautiful, happy breed. Their male boxer was very large and quite handsome. We talked about Wales and I told them I was going there and asked them which castle to visit.  They said to definitely visit Conwy.

Grassington is a lovely stone town and we spent time there visiting the shops and the central square where there was a Saturday morning outdoor market underway. Kris told us we would be out in the open countryside at lunchtime, so I bought a chicken salad sandwich and a fruit flapjack, the British name for a cookie bar, to put in my pack.

We next climbed steadily through the town and into the open pastures above, which were divided by stonewalls.  We were learning that we would constantly be going through gates in the walls or over the walls on ladders. We climbed and crested hills where we lost views of civilization except for the walls and the sheep. We stopped for lunch in a broad ravine area surrounded by high hills and then climbed up to a high point where we passed an old stone lime kiln.

We had talked about having an hour of silent hiking on this day and at lunch the group decided that this would start after lunch, but no one told me, and I was embarrassed when someone had to tell me to be quiet after we started to walk. At this point we were in high open country and had endless vistas for miles. We climbed until we reached the Conistone Pie formation which is a rock formation shaped like a round mushroom.  Climbing on top, we had 360 degree views of the surrounding valleys. As we walked silently, the puffy white clouds were moving across the sky projecting changing shadows onto the landscape below. The silence allowed me to focus on my hiking mantra from Nepal, Om Mane Padme Hum, and I soon reached a state of mind that was both serene and ecstatic with the glories of the place.

From there, we descended into the Kettlewell where I visited the church and had a pint in the pub.  From Kettlewell, we took a cab ride with a pleasant Scottish driver to Hubberholme and the George Inn where we spent two nights.

 

On Sunday morning, August 26, we rode with our Scottish cab driver Gordon from Hubberholme back to Kettlewell. We walked in the rain along the river through very green pastures over walls and through gates. We walked through the small village of Starbotton and on to Buckden where I had a nice steak and ale pie for lunch at the hotel pub. Back to Hubberholme, we visited the church across the street from the George Inn. Kris gave us the assignment of counting the mice carved into the pews by the “Mouseman of Kilburn.” In the evening, we had Sunday dinner at the George Inn.  I ate roast beef and Yorkshire pudding with an apple crumble with custard topping for desert.  Cathy read a section of l All Creatures Great and Small by James Herriot, a veterinarian who wrote about life in the nearby Yorkshire countryside. The inn keeper, Ed, entertained us with his dry English humor.

The next morning we started walking from Hubberholme in the cold rain. We walked through flat pastures, along the Wharfe River.  As we continued to walk, buildings declined in number until there were very few left. We passed a home called Oughtershaw Hall and began to climb away from the river up a side valley and into the high moors.  We walked on wet, grassy trails up to the Nethergill Eco Farm and into a large building where we were offered hot tea and a homemade flapjack.  The couple who owned the farm described how they were conducting sustainable farming.  They were planting thousands of trees on the hillsides and working to create and maintain habitat for diverse wildlife.  I told them about the American approach using conservation easements but that approach is dependent on our taxation system.

From the farm, we walked along the contour of the hillside on a very soggy and somewhat muddy trail crossing small streams running down from the moors above. We walked on up the valley to Cam House, another collection of stone buildings where we stopped at a picnic table in the intermittent drizzle to eat our packed lunches.  A young man came out of one building dressed in camouflage pants.  He had recently come from Scotland to serve as the gamekeeper for the Cam House estate. His main job was killing foxes and vermin, which killed the grouse and other birds, using traps and a rifle with a night scope. The owner of the property brought people one week of the year to shoot grouse.

From Cam House, we decide to take the alternative high route climbing steeply up a paved road onto a high ridge above the valley.  From the top of the ridge there were grand views of the undeveloped valley and open lands in all directions and of distant high hills with their tops covered in clouds. After walking along the ridge, we reached a marker and the high point on the Dales Way at 1,900 feet above sea level. From the top, we descended into the high moors on a trail called the Ribble Way. It was not raining at this point but remained overcast as we crossed the dark, brooding moors. We descended on the trail to a busy road and crossed it at an intersection and began to descend towards the Dee River. We spotted the beautiful Dent Head aqueduct below and when we arrived at the aqueduct, we admired its enormous arches. We walked along the Dee River which was dark and beautiful with rapids.  Just before we arrived at the Sportsman’s Inn, where we spent the night, we saw a line of ten small mole carcasses hung on barbed wire. At the Inn, the bartender told us about grouse and mole management.  Farmers who specialize in mole management, in competition with others, like to display their catch.  The Bartender told me that the trout had been removed by the government from the Dee. Apparently, this has been done to promote the populations of native fish, especially salmon.

On Tuesday, August 28, we walked on from the Sportsmen Inn and Cowgill along the River Dee, through and over many stone walls and past many sheep and cattle and a few horses. It was cloudy most of the day but without rain. We climbed at one point perhaps 100 feet above the river for some nice views, and then we descended back to the river and into the quaint village of Dent. We visited the churchyard and found the monument to the local nineteenth century vicar Adam Sedgewick, one of the founders of modern geology. We had learned in the villages to not all crowd into one pub if there were multiple choices, and I had a quiche for lunch with chips that seemed to be served with just about any meal. After lunch, we again walked along the river. We walked around the back of a mansion called Gap Manor past its old beautiful but decaying stone gate. Climbing around the back, we could see the large buildings below. We hiked up through the beautiful Gap Woods with its large, widely spaced deciduous trees, and as we climbed, we had extensive views of the valley below. Soon, we could see the more substantial town of Sedbergh below and had a nice descent into the town past stone homes, the well know Sedbergh School and into the large town center. My notebook was running out of pages and I needed a new one, but it was nearly 4:00 pm and the stores were closing. Only the Sleepy Elephant was open, which sold both books and outdoor gear. So I bought a lovely small notebook and a pair of socks.  The notebook had a cover with art from a Japanese lacquer box. I stayed in a large, antique room in Daleslea, a guest house in a large Victorian townhome. With some of our group, I had pasta and a nice glass of wine at an Italian restaurant.

 

It was raining the next morning when we started walking from Sedbergh. We took a short cut out of town climbing up through the southern edge of the Howgill fells, which gave us some fine views of the countryside. As we started to descend, we saw glimpses of blue sky and by the time we took a break in a large pasture by the River Lune, we were in sunshine.  As we rested, we spotted what was likely a heron across the river. As we continued, we passed under the impressively enormous, Victorian Lune Viaduct. We spent the rest of the day walking up and down through forests and pastures near the river and past stone houses and thousands of sheep, many cows and some horses, including miniature horses. We walked over the busy M6 highway on a bridge.  It was difficult to navigate at times and we had to walk on country roads, single file, on the right. After a long day of walking, we arrived at Burnside an hour and a half before we were to catch a train to Kendall.  So in Burnside we went to a pub for pints and ate fish and chips from the small shop next door. Finally, we took the train to the large town of Kendall where we walked for almost a mile past shops and restaurants to our hotel.

On Thursday, August 30, we took a cab from Kendall back to Burnside and started our last day walking on the Dales Way.  The day before, we had left the Yorkshire Dales National Park and today we would enter the Lake District National Park. We started our walk along the River Kent through beautiful country to the Village of Stavely where we bought food to put in our packs for lunch and had a long break in a coffee shop where I had an extended chat with Peter, a local primary school teacher.  We talked about the British medical system, which he said was good because it is universal. He also said that it was not perfect because rural areas sometimes lacked medical resources. We climbed out of the village into remote countryside where we had views back over the flowing Pennine hills we had been walking through. Ahead, the landscape was not smoothly flowing like before but much more rugged as we entered the Lake District. We stopped in high rugged terrain to eat lunch. From the high point, we descended to a stone bench with a sign marking the end of Dales Way. From that place, we overlooked enormous Windermere Lake and the large town of Bowness-on-Windemere. After taking pictures and celebrating, we descended into the tourist town which was packed with people.

In Bowness, we stayed at a nice old hotel and I walked into the main shopping area and went in an outdoor gear store which was having a closeout sale and bought more socks and a couple of shirts.  I struggled to find a place to take pictures of the lake and finally took a couple of shots on a floating pier.  We had a fine meal at a restaurant that specialized in food from the area. I had a delicious pheasant dish.

The next day, we traveled back to London in first class on a fast Virgin train. First class was a new experience for us and we were served complementary sandwiches, snacks and drinks. The Dales Way had been a magical experience, a full-on taste of the rural Yorkshire countryside, its historic stone villages, and the friendly people along the way.

On Saturday, August 4, I led a group including Carol Bilberry, Denise Snow and Martin O Grady from the Lake Kathryn Trailhead up the Lone Pine Trailhead into the Mount Zirkel Wilderness Area of Colorado.  We left one car at the Lone Pine North Trailhead so we would not have to walk a mile on the dirt road at the end of the trip.  We hiked under sunny skies through deep forest where many of the trees were dead, killed by the pine beetle. Shortly after starting, we reached the junction with the short trail to Lake Kathryn.  We stashed heavy gear in the forest and climbed to the lake.  The lake is an elongated, tear-shaped lake with a high ridge above the eastern edge.  We did not see any people there.

We continued hiking through the forest and had some difficulty deciding where to go when the trail divided but took the left-hand route which led us on a steep climb to Bighorn Lake.  We had expected to pass an intersection of the Bighorn Lake Trail with the Lone Pine Trail but never saw the intersection.  We passed a smaller lake where there was a large group of young men yelling and throwing logs into the lake.  The large Bighorn Lake was quite beautiful set below the high ridges of the Continental Divide.

From the lake, we bushwhacked a short distance to another small lake and bushwhacked using our maps and GPS for not quite a mile back to the Lone Pine Trail.  We followed the trail across the Lone Pine Creek valley and began a very steep climb up to the Divide.  The trail climbed vertically, straight up, and I had difficulty getting a climbing rhythm going. It was quite warm and I had to let the others go a little bit ahead of me.  On top of the divide, the terrain changed dramatically into large relatively level or gently sloping areas of alpine tundra with scattered stands of evergreens and small ponds.  The views of the rugged mountains to the north, Little Agnes, Big Agnes and Mount Zirkel, were dramatic. We started looking for camp sites with good water and descended into the Gold Creek Valley, but did not find a campsite until we reached the creek.

The next morning, we started up the Gold Creek Trail and soon reached the junction with the Gilpin Trail. We again left our heavy packs or gear at the junction and ascended the trail, climbing above tree line to a small pass. On the pass, we look down on the beautiful navy blue, Gilpin Lake.  Behind it on the other side there were rugged mountains, including Mount Zirkel. As we watched, the color of the lake changed subtlety as the puffy clouds passed above.

We descended from the pass back to the Gold Creek Trail, crossed the open valley and began our second climb to the Continental Divide.   This climb was much better with long switch backs, interesting terrain, and beautiful views to Red Dirt Pass. After a forty-five minute climb, we reached the top of Ute Pass and stopped to enjoy the views to the east. Below we could see the trail cross open terrain with stands of trees and ponds.  We could just catch a view of Bear Lake. After the steep descent off the pass, we found a nice campsite next to a stream near the intersection with the Bear Lake Trail.

 

After setting up camp, we took a walk to Bear Lake.  The hike to the lake was over a mile with some significant up and down. We visited three separate lakes.  I sat for some time at the largest lake, watching as the color and texture of the lake changed with the wind and with the clouds streaming by overhead. The final day we hiked quickly down the Bear Creek Trail to the Grizzly Helena Trail.  The final stretch of trail to the car was surprisingly beautiful, descending gradually into the very large valley through stands of aspen trees. Everything went very well on this trip and it was a privilege leading this group of expert backpackers.