Devil's Canyon Hike

One of the best things about living in Grand Junction is the mild winter climate. Great skiing is less than an hour away up at Powderhorn, yet there is very little snow down below. It is possible to hike year round on trails that receive sufficient sun to melt the scant snow, and Devil's Canyon is one of those trails. It is located just to the west of the Colorado National Monument's western boundary, so it is open to dogs, unlike the Monument itself. If I'm going to take a hike, I want to include my dog Scout because he enjoys hiking even more than I do.

Early on Saturday morning, Scout and I left home and drove west on Broadway/Highway 340 to just past the Monument's western entrance, took a left at King's View Road and then another left onto Devil's Canyon Road to reach the trailhead parking lot. My hiking buddy John Sasso showed up a few minutes later, dropped off by his wife D on her way to the annual Beer Run, a 9.3 mile race in the Fruita area that ends at the Hot Tomato Cafe. John, Scout and I didn't waste much time getting underway because it was windy and still below freezing. We followed trail D1 to D4 to D3 to work our way up the sunny western side of the canyon. There is a network of well-marked trails that loops all over the area, but they can be confusing, so it's a good idea to check the trail map inside the shelter at the trailhead before heading out. There are also maps that are free for the taking from a metal box a few yards up the main trail.

In the canyon, out of the wind, we were soon shedding shells and gloves to keep from overheating. Scout was warm, too, and backtracked frequently for squirts of water from my CamelBak. We paused frequently to admire the Wingate Sandstone walls and spires, and the occasional granite extrusions that are rare in this largely sedimentary area. John speculated about the "climbability" of some of the cracks and chimneys we passed and guessed that most of them had already been climbed. Off in the distance, above the top of the canyon's box end, I could see the antenna farm that dots Black Ridge. It is the highest point in the area, so high that I can see it easily from my office window at work several miles away on the north side of town, near the airport.

About an hour and a half into the hike, the trail dropped and climbed through a series of side drainages and then curved left into a flat area where there sat an old shepherd's cabin. Scout ran ahead to investigate but we were the only ones around. There was a campfire ring and log benches in front of the cabin, and the area smelled of old, wet cinders. The cabin was made of weathered wood covered with tar paper, and the cracks were chinked with new-looking spray foam. It appeared to be at least fifty years old and looks to have been maintained in a somewhat haphazard fashion, with new pieces of wood nailed into place as needed over the years. Remarkably, the glass windows on either end are still intact. At the south end of the cabin was a small, roofed corral that must have been used to protect sheep at one time. Inside the cabin, there was a small table, some shelves, a sheet metal woodstove and a built-in plywood bunk bed but no mattresses. There was also a large collection of relics and graffiti left by previous travelers. I commented that it looked like a cozy place to spend a night but John didn't think so.

Instead of backtracking down the trail we had come up, we went down the trail on the eastern side of the canyon. It receives less sun than the western side, so we needed to contend with occasional patches of snow and mud. John was carrying a hiking pole and I wished that I had thought to bring one myself after a few slips in the wet conditions. Scout used the snow as an opportunity to cool off, rolling on his back and grunting his pleasure. In an hour, we found ourselves back at the point where the western and eastern trails split, completing the loop that had ended at the cabin. From there, it was an easy hike out the way we had come in. We passed small groups of hikers and dogs along the way. They were getting a later, warmer start than we had experienced when we started a little more than three hours earlier.

Back at the trailhead, Scout still had the energy to jump into the back of the SUV. Then we were off to meet up with the Beer Run finishers at the Hot Tomato Cafe and join them for a slice of pizza and a well-deserved beer.

"Learn to Vote"

When Nan and I arrived back in Grand Junction after our New Year's vacation in Isla Mujeres, Mexico, there was a surprise waiting under the windshield wiper of our car in the airport parking lot. It was a computer-generated note that said, well, I'm not going to repeat what it said. That's a photo of the note, over to the left. You may read it for yourself.

I have an "Obama 2012" bumper sticker on the back of my car. The note is an obvious criticism of my choice for the upcoming presidential election, but it comes off more as a criticism of my ability to vote. Trust me. I have had plenty of practice in the voting booth. This year's election will mark the tenth time I've voted for president. My choice doesn't always win, but he did in 2008 and I'm confident he'll do it again in 2012. Oh yes we can!

New Year's Eve in Isla Mujeres

Nan and I are just back from another trip to Isla Mujeres, our tenth in fourteen years. Usually, we go in the spring, after the ski season is over, or in the fall if we went somewhere else in the spring, but we had never been there around the holidays before.

The first thing we noticed was how busy the island seemed. In the spring and fall, most of the tourists are Americans, Canadians and Europeans, but most of the tourists we saw were Mexicans. They packed the beaches, the streets and the restaurants. It was good to see them vacationing in one of their own resort areas, and the island appeared to be prospering as a result. There were new shops and restaurants, and a new Walmart-type store, Chedraui, that carries just about everything. Our local friend, Juan Gomez, who lives in one of the mid-island colonias near the new store, told us he goes there almost every day. No more shopping trips to Cancun for those difficult-to-find items!

There were no vacancies at Color de Verano, where we normally stay, so we spent five nights at Elements of the Island and two nights at Ixchel Beach Hotel. Elements is a little three-unit boutique hotel and cafe in the Centro recently purchased by French Canadians, Madjid and Jean. Ixchel is one of the big new luxury hotels on Playa Norte. Both were fine, though very different in their levels of accommodation. Color de Verano will always be our first choice.

Most mornings, we went for long walks either around the north end of the island or south along the street that fronts Playa Sol, as far as the Soggy Peso bar. One morning, we visited Isla Animals, the local dog rescue facility, to play with the puppies. There were probably close to thirty of them, ranging in age from about eight weeks to four months, chasing each other around the yard and falling asleep in spontaneous piles.

We rented a golf cart for only one day because of the holiday premium rates, and we used it to check out the marinas a little more closely than during our last visit. If plans work out, we will sail Whispering Jesse, our 1980 Valiant 40, down to Isla Mujeres in the fall of 2013, and we will want to keep it somewhere safe. Puerto Isla Mujeres would still be our first choice. It has reasonable rates, the nicest facilities and a security gate at the entrance. We also checked out Enrique Lima's Marina, which has the advantage of being downtown instead of further south in Laguna Macax. If we spend any time swinging on an anchor in Isla's large bay, a downtown marina would be handy to use for its dinghy dock.

On other days, we used the ubiquitous red taxis to get around the island, taking one to Teresa and Louis's house one afternoon to check out the progress Louis is making on his sailboat refit project. In addition to fixing some of the inherited damage, he has designed and built some ingenious interior features, like a beautiful Mexican teak table that folds down and out from a forward bulkhead. We look forward to forming a sailing flotilla with the two of them once we get our own boat down there.

The highlight of our trip was the time we spent with Juan and his family. We met Juan, his wife Paula and his daughter Paulina in the plaza downtown for New Year's Eve, which the island goes all out for. There was a huge stage set up in front of the Palacio Municipal. The plaza in front of the stage was filled with formal tables featuring flowers and white tablecloths, which were all reserved, so we sat on the steps of the Catholic church to watch the festivities, along with hundreds of other people. The entire area was packed.

According to my watch, midnight came and went, but the announcements from the stage went on for another couple of minutes before the countdown to the New Year. Confetti and streamers filled the air and fireworks blazed overhead. People cheered, hugged and kissed. And then the band started up. We made our way closer to the stage, where people were dancing. Nan and Juan's family joined in but I hung back and watched the band. It featured at least nine players, all doing a synchronized dance to their Latin music, which featured a brass section and was oh so loud. They kept up a constant medley of songs, with no breaks in between, and worked up enough of a sweat, despite the chilly night, that they were peeling off layers of their band costumes and flinging them aside. By one o'clock, our ears were buzzing and we were ready to go. Nan and I walked Juan and his family to a taxi stand and then walked back to our hotel. We found out later from Juan that there was a party in his neighborhood when they returned home, and they didn't get to bed until six in the morning. ¡Muchas cervezas!

On our last afternoon, we took a taxi to Juan's house for a late lunch of guacamole, ceviche and chicken with mole sauce. Paula and son Manolo were there, along with Dookie and Muñeca, two of their three Chihuahuas, who were wearing tiny t-shirts to stay warm. Over the course of the afternoon, family came and went, including Paulina, other son Juan Jr., Paula's twin sisters, and nephews Daniel and Paul. We struggled to communicate with everybody using our limited Spanish until we were mentally exhausted. Juan gave us Christmas gifts: a bottle of Mexican tequila that I'm sure isn't available in the U.S. and a Sol baseball cap that is probably also unavailable here. It was all over much too quickly, both the afternoon and the vacation in Isla Mujeres. We told Juan we would try to return in September or October. Until then:

¡Feliz y Prospero Año Nuevo!