Traveling the world one color at a time.
Need to escape? Looking to be whisked away? Itching for travel inspiration?
Look no further than Great Basin National Park, the only national park in Nevada and the place with the darkest night sky in the lower 48 states. By day, hike into the mountains for fresh air and tranquility.
The Grand Canyon.
It is arguably Arizona’s most famous claim to fame and absolutely one of the most popular destinations in the United States. Millions of people visit the Grand Canyon every year, but most visit in the summer, when crowds are crammed at the overlooks and trails are anything but peaceful.
Visiting the Grand Canyon in the winter offers a new perspective of this famous natural wonder. There are still lots of people but far fewer than in the summer, and the pace of life is much more laid back. A few of the roads aren’t plowed, and if you venture up these hard-to-navigate trails on your own, you essentially have the entire place to yourself.
Winter at the Grand Canyon still requires advance planning: Book a room at the lodge or a cabin in advance, and be prepared for snowy conditions. Warm clothes, an ice scraper for your car and winter provisions are all necessary. But it’s so worth it. If you don’t believe me, let the pictures speak for themselves:
The Badlands of Death Valley spread like crystallized sugar for miles toward the horizon. The ground stretched, dried cracks like wrinkles on a spinster’s face pulled outward, trying to connect to anything within its grasp. A fine dust covered the earth in places, kicked up by the occasional hot breeze. My throat stiffened with each breath.
If a place could be a hyperbole, then Death Valley would win. it is the hottest, driest and lowest point in the United States, and by any common sense accounts, those things would make it a nightmare to visit. It is a place where a person can sweat profusely without showing any signs of moisture depletion. A place where lips stay chapped and hands are void of moisture. A place where most living things have escaped or died out, never to return to such a harsh environment.
At Badwater, 282 feet below sea level, I drain my water bottle, eager to refill it when I get the chance. A murky puddle is roped off, a delicate ecosystem that can easily be damaged by wandering feet. Along a short walk into the desert landscape, we find yet another puddle called Devil’s Hole, where a few pupfish swim in it. The fish has lived in isolation in Death Valley for an estimated 25,000 years, surviving and thriving in water that is 93 degrees Fahrenheit.
I happened upon The Last Season when I was browsing the bookstore for Sequoia and Kings Canyon National Parks. The words on the cover immediately drew me to it:
Randy Morgenson was legendary for finding people missing in the High Sierra … Then one day he went missing himself.
Written by Eric Blehm, this book is the story of a man who spent his entire life with the National Park Service. Raised in Yosemite National Park, Morgenson grew up in the shadow of El Capitan and along the well-trod path of the John Muir Trail. He explored the world as a Peace Corps volunteer but was ultimately drawn back to the High Sierra, where he worked as for the NPS for 28 years, most of them as a backcountry ranger in Sequoia and Kings Canyon National Parks.
In Morgenson’s last season, he headed into the wilderness and simply disappeared. The Last Season vividly explains the search operation launched in order to find this well-seasoned ranger while weaving in the troubling circumstances leading up to the season and a disturbing picture of how the NPS treats its seasonal employees. Blehm does an excellent job of telling a story that could be cut and dry — a step-by-step process of a backcountry search operation — but this compelling book pushes readers deeper and deeper into the puzzling details of Morgenson’s disappearance by posing theories and situational questions that arise due to the complex nature of the ranger’s past and the bureaucratic and often unfair policies of the agency for which Morgenson worked. Would the ranger have just walked out of the mountains? Did Morgenson plan or know of his disappearance in advance? Was Randy a victim of nature, or was he so selfish that he made the choice to put his fellow rangers at risk looking for him? Was faulty equipment given to rangers to blame? Were there holes in the search-and-rescue operation that could have resulted in a different outcome?
This past week I introduced my sister to Zion National Park, which is located in Southern Utah. It was my third trip to the national park and also my briefest, as we were on our way to somewhere else when we stopped. I always knew I adored Zion, but those three short hours we were in the park rekindled my love for the striking canyon walls, green moss clinging to the rocks and chilly mountain water dripping over the sides of the cliff faces. I became giddy once again about the eco-friendly shuttles that keep the roads clear of traffic and the variety of trails scattered around the park. Yep … I’m still smitten for Zion National Park.
I believe in going back to the magic of the earth and the lake, the sky and the universe. That kind of magic. I believe in that kind of religion. A religion of the rocks, the lake, the water, the sky. Yes, that’s what I believe in.
- George Morrison, Grand Portage Ojibwe, Turning the Feather Around
From 1784 to 1803, the most profitable fur trade operation on the Great Lakes was run at the Grand Portage. Located on the far west side of Lake Superior, this fur trade depot was the meeting spot for traders who came from the northwest part of Canada and those from Montréal. The depot included a business office, warehouse, storage buildings and living quarters for the many men who came and went throughout the trading season.
Like Hubbell Trading Post in Arizona, Grand Portage is a meeting place that played an important historical role in early commerce, but so few people know about it. Tucked just about six miles from the Canadian border in Minnesota, this national monument is a site you have to set out to reach, but those who make the trip are rewarded with an interesting glimpse back in time with staff dressed in period costumes and artifacts collected from the height of the fur trade.
If you make the trip, here are a few things to keep in mind to get the most out of your visit:
Talk to the staff members. Unlike some U.S. national parks where employees are available to answer questions but don’t play an integral role in the site, the staff members at Grand Portage are both interested in and a part of the experience. They are found in the visitor’s center and in each of the buildings on the compound, and they’re excited to answer questions about the time period, the site and their jobs.
This national park is free! If you’re passing through the area anyway, you might as well stop at Grand Portage because it’s free. It doesn’t cost a dime for your family to get out of the car, stretch their legs and learn a little something during the break.
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