OCR Text |
Show MLE (5 0 ie 1, OB @ The View from Moab Sweet Dreams ATE For centuries, brewmasters AE, EE college, I returned to the Southwest to hike a canyon I had found the previous year. The summer before, I'd hiked in June and there have were springs at every bend of the canyon. I used honey to enhance the naturally sweet flavor of beer. carried my steel cup on my belt and all I had to do was dip it in the next bubbling pool to Following this By Jim Stiles tradition, Michelob Honey Lager combines the finest barley malts VAG of honey to produce a full-bodied, slightly sweet taste and deep golden color. Michelob Honey Lager, one of the Michelob Specialty Ales and Lagers ©1997, Anheuser-Busch, Brewers of Michelob® Inc., Specialty Brewing Group, Honey Lager, St. Louis, MO teins Even down here in the redrock desert, we experience a dose of brutally cold weather every now and then. I have to admit it has been a while since the pipes froze. But we are wimps in Moab and have a lot more tolerance for heat than frost. With the thermometer outside my window hovering at 25 degrees I already long for June ... High summer in the redrock desert. The temperature exceeds 100 degrees almost every day. The wild flowers that were so abundant in May: have been blasted by the fierce sun and turned brittle and brown. The animals are hunkered down under rock ledges or burrowed into their underground shelters, waiting for dusk and dinner. I’m looking and feeling a bit brittle and brown myself. While most animals have bet- ter sense than to venture out into the full heat of a July afternoon, and while we humans, on an intellectual level, at least, know better as well, it is still sometimes hard Live winter firsthand at the Utah Winter Sports Park! SUR TRCM EAU AR CRC UCa enim Tacs sled, or go solo in the Ice Rocket Sled. Fly off the 18TTC eC UL MO LCC SO GMMR MORI MG emit e740] Up Others aren't lucky enough to have a second chance. When I think of desert dehy- dration stories, I think of Abbey’s “Dead Man at Grandview Point” in Desert Solitaire. But even more remarkable is the sad story of Leroy V. Black in the summer of 1959. According to Park Superintendent Bates Wilson’s monthly report, the 67-year-old man was returning from Sipapu Bridge at Natural Bridges National Monument, and missed the trail to the Kachina parking area Thank god his wife is an undertaker. But seriously, the heat can fool you out here and sometimes the effect can be deadly. The best way to learn about the risks of dehydration is to be stupid and get dehy- “As there was not sufficient time to remove him from the eanyon, he was made as comfortable as possible in a sleeping bag and fed small quantities of broth and water. By 10:30 p.m. he seemed much stronger, but around midnight, he died.” The great irony in Mr. Black's ordeal was that he died of thirst when there was water all around. Most of the potholes were full of water, but they were also teeming with life. Fearful that he might contract an illness from the insects and algae in the water, he denied himself the only hope he had of survival. His dog, which had not been so con- On one of those summer trips out West, cerned with water-waders and green slime, was fine. Today, more than ever, the desert has become, in many minds, one big playground for whatever recreational challenge suits between my ongoing efforts to flunk out of your fancy. But the desert, itself, is just as did and I never forgot. Trae) another half mile of hiking left in me. I never forgot. where he had left his car. Instead, Mr. Black continued to hike down White Canyon for almost 15 miles, where he was finally located by a search party three days later. According to Bates, drated. If you survive, that is. That’s what I RLU Ccrra ce tae SOM CMC e LACM PLC heavy, cumbersome canteens in the car. But half a mile down the canyon, | noticed an odd sight. Where last June a steady flow of water had trickled down the canyon wall, today the desert varnished sandstone was barely damp. Instead ofa cool pool of water at its base, all that remained was a dry hole. But I was determined to continue and so I spent the next seven hours in 100degree plus heat, searching for a glass of water. When I stumbled back to my car in the late afternoon, I don’t think I had ic, mesmerizing, about the dry furnace of the desert we inhabit. But because the heat can be so deceptive, it can also be deadly. My brother and his family visited me several years ago. One afternoon, Montfort and I were near Grandview Point, following the rim for a couple of miles. I was carrying the water and kept offering him a drink, but he insisted he was fine. Suddenly his eyes rolled back in his sock- tents! General Pickett will save the day!” (He always was a Civil War buff.) He leaped off the precipice. 1998 I | to resist. There is something almost hypnot- ets and he started to stagger toward the brink ofa 700-foot cliff. He shouted, “Strike the PAGE 4 ¢ FEBRUARY quench my thirst. Now, under an intense August sky, set out to explore the canyon again. snapped on the steel cup and left all those and specially blended hops with a touch of Dehydration eee Ge j PLEASE RECYCLE THIS NEWSPAPER harsh and unforgiving as it ever was. In the end, the rocks will outlast us all. The question is: can I survive this miserable winter? @ |