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- Apr 20, 2013
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Late Afternoon at Florence
The problem with two boys a couple of years apart, and taking kids on trips, AND letting them plan and make the choice, is getting them to branch out.
"Xander," I said, "Where should we go?"
"I want to go where Gunnar went."
"How about [this other place] or [that other place dad really wants to go]?"
"No, I want to go..."
Do not get me wrong, this is not a bad place. There is a reason I have been there multiple times, and why it is crowded, even enough to already have posted a winter trip report here... but in the end, the place did not matter, and besides, it was close enough we could do an overnighter, and even my less-adventurous son could enjoy it (he, who like his mom is picky about the temperature, bugs, and especially the food he eats).
Problem was, the only weekend free in September got snowed out. Just last Friday though my Saturday night opened up, the weather was supposed to be perfect for October, and the possibility stewing in my head all afternoon at work became a reality. It would mean a trip of less than 24 hours, but I needed it, and my son had been quite disappointed that snow had cancelled us a couple weeks previously. So within half an hour of soccer being over, we were parking at the packed-as-expected trail head and off we went on Saturday afternoon.
Mill B South up Big Cottonwood Canyon was the gateway, and my seven year old who complains at times when he has to walk into the grocery store, did not even ask to take a break until I was sweating a bit and more than ready for a break myself... almost a mile in.
The day was beautiful as we passed more people going down than up.
Golden canopies.
Some prime, some past.
I just liked the balance of this one.
After a while, and without any whining at all, the goal was in sight.
The whole weekend was beautiful, very awe inspiring. We only shared the basin overnight with maybe 3 other well-spaced groups, not like having it alone in the winter, but for a weekend, nearly empty. We setup our camp between Blanche and Florence, and this was the view one direction from camp.
and the other way... I love the glacially smooth rocks and colors. I also loved that the longer we went into the afternoon, the place emptied out, the winds died down, the weather was pleasant, no bugs... just a perfect afternoon as we wandered and my son ran and played on the rocks. I think he made a half dozen trips down to Florence and back.
Colors back down Mill B. The snow everywhere was proof it was not balmy, but with a long-sleeved shirt. Plenty warm.
More.
My father in law used to hunt up here before the dam was purposely breached.
Afternoon light, moon and contrail.
We were treated to a nice, blushing sunset.
The night had a good strong south wind, so although there was frost and frozen water the next morning, it was not much colder than a late summer Uintas trip. I put my son to sleep by reading a childhood favorite "The Castle in the Attic". He complained about a tummy ache, only because he had finished off a box of Mike and Ikes and half a bag of gummy bears- he is a picky eater, just not when it comes to candy.
At about 4am he woke up, the moon had set, and I told him to get out of the tent and take a look outside. He immediately said "Wow!" He said he had never seen that many stars and braved the cold for a few minutes- a big feat. I just smiled, trips like this will hopefully leave him hooked.
Earth shadow is the reward for early risers. I almost missed it.
We wandered around a lot before the sun actually made any kind of an appearance. We ran in the snow, skipped rocks, climbed some minor stuff on the north side and just kept warm having fun.
Beautiful mornings in the mountains, reflected on lakes are gems that decorate life. This year I have been blessed with a few.
I love front-lit autumn leaves.
or more of that smooth, gorgeous stone.
My son played in the water and scrambled on the rocks.
In the picture above was the only adventure that morning. Shortly after this picture, my son tried to climb the small crack in the rock above his head in the picture, problem was, he had a stick and nalgene bottle in hand. I foresaw he was likely headed for a predicament and swiftly headed that way. Just as he was unable to make progress any direction and was starting to slip, which would have soaked just about all the clothes we had with us. I was able to run the last few feet, grab his arm and swing him back down.
Another of the dam.
A last look at the Sundial and Lake Blanche.
As we reached the car. I asked my son his favorite part. "The candy," he said bluntly.
"Anything else?"
"Oh, the stars, playing on the rocks, watching the fish jump."
Phew, at least I know as long as I bring gummy bears the rest is memorable gravy.
