Kanarra Falls

Kanarra Falls

Having grown up in New harmony you would think I would know all the good places to hike in the neighborhood. Unfortunately, I didn't hike much when I was growing up. We did a lot of walking while hunting, but mostly we rode horses as far as we could, then hiked. I don't ever remember looking for a place specifically to go hiking.

When I returned to the area a few years ago I heard people talk about Kanarra Falls. I thought it couldn't be much or I would know about it. Finally I decided to find out by asking around and talking to people who had been there. Based on their descriptions I decided it was definitely somewhere I should go and started making plans.

On July 11, 2009 Jillyn and Kenny were here and wanting to do a hike. We talked about going back up to the Beaver area and trying for Delano Peak again (last time we climbed Mount Holly by mistake instead of Delano) but decided it was too far for the time we had available. I suggested Kanarra Falls and they agreed.

The trail starts on the east side of Kanarraville up toward the water tank. There is a parking area below the tank, then the trail goes up the road past the tank, which is the hardest part of the entire hike.

First thing up the trail we met this wild-eyed guy who was muttering somewhat incoherently that he had almost stepped on a rattlesnake. Lucky for the snake because he weighed about 300 pounds. He pointed a shaky finger to a bush and we found the snake there scared half to death.

The Kanarra Falls hike, in my opinion, is one of the best kept secrets in the area. It is a beautiful slot canyon within walking distance for even the most inept. Small children can do it as it is only a couple of miles on pretty flat terrain. It might even be nice to have some younger folks along to protect you from the snakes. Some of the hike involves getting wet, and the creek probably flows higher and colder in the spring of the year, but in mid summer the water level is low and hot temperatures make a little soaking quite pleasant.

The canyon is wide at the bottom, but soon narrows and displays some beautiful sandstone formations made by years of erosion. As you continue you will find yourself walking through narrow winding slots barely wide enough to walk through and a hundred or so feet deep, cut through the sandstone by the stream's incessant flow.

At the first falls there is a log ladder that isn't too difficult to climb. It even has a rope handrail. If you don't want to climb this you can turn around here and still have had a great hike. If you are the adventurous type and have to see what is at the top of the falls, continue on.

Above are more slot canyons and more wading. It is kind of hard to avoid getting wet, at least to your knees.

About midway between the lower and upper falls you encounter this water park. There is no entrance fee, but there may be some waiting in line as there is only one slide. Kids were sliding down the slick rocks into the pool below while parents cooled off. I think we may have interrupted a wet tee shirt contest.

I have hiked Buckskin Gulch, which is considered one of the premier slot canyons in the world, but some of the places in Kanarra Creek are just as impressive and are much more accessible.

After some more slot canyon you arrive at the second falls. this one is a little more difficult, mainly because there is no log ladder. The only help is a rickety board ladder of sorts that has been nailed together. I put my camera into a plastic bag and then in my pack and tried to make the ascent. About half way up you have to grab a wet rope and pull yourself the rest of the way.

About the time I grabbed the rope, the ladder skipped and I found myself hanging by the rope directly under the falls. As my pack filled up with water and my clothes got soaked my grip on the rope slipped and I made a not so gentle descent. I checked and my camera stayed dry, thank goodness, but everything else was wet and even on a warm summer day it seemed quite cold. Jillyn and Kenny knew they could not better my display of sportsmanship, so they declined to try the ascent. We turned around at that point and returned back the way we had come.

Right after my failed attempt a strong young show-off came and showed us how to do it, but by then we had decided there couldn't be anything up there more impressive than what we had already seen.

The Mill Flat Fire

The Mill Flat Fire

There was a lightning strike on Pine Valley Mountain on July 25th, just north of Mill Flat. The strike started a fire which burned in rocky hillside area. Forest Service personnel were quick to observe the fire, but determined to let it burn as it seemed to pose no threat and might actually do some good by removing old growth and making way for new.

The smoke plume was visible from New Harmony and when I first spotted it I thought the fire was probably either in Main Canyon or Dam Canyon. It burned for nearly a month without spreading to more than a few acres. On Wednesday, August 26, the Forest Service had a public meeting in new harmony and informed residents that they were allowing the fire to burn based on wilderness area guidelines, and that it was being closely monitored. We were informed that if the fire reached certain predetermined lines, they would begin suppression efforts.

The very next day the fire began to spread north into the Straight Canyon area and a helicopter was called in to drop some water. The fire increased in size the following day but still appeared to be no threat. On Saturday, August 29, the fire increased in size and smoke filled the Harmony Valley. Around mid afternoon, the smoke began to lift as conditions created a 'column', and you could see that the fire had spread north of Straight Canyon and was turning back south toward Dam canyon. I went up on Little Mountain to get a better view, and was soon joined by Forest Service personnel who were now becoming quite concerned.I still wasn't too concerned for our own safety, as the fire was a long way from town. As we watched, I commented that I would start to be concerned when it came over Lawson Hill. In less than an hour it was coming over the hill, and as the evening breeze started to blow off the mountain the fire began racing north into the west side of town, threatening several homes and structures.
It was quite a helpless feeling as we watched the fire come closer and closer. We rigged up all our hoses and put sprinklers around the house and on the roof. We loaded a few emergency things and photo albums into the car just in case, still not thinking it would really get to us.

Fire crews were arriving from all over to help. A fire truck and crew from Santa Clara came and prepared to defend our home. They stated that the home itself was very defensible, but that my shop would probably not be due to all the vegetation so close by. I responded that they should forget about the shop and use all their efforts to save the house if it came to that. I moved all the vehicles down into the hay field and went back to my post on Little Mountain.

The fire burned through Gordon Pace's stockyard and haystack on its way north, which is about a quarter mile from our home. It seemed a lot closer when all you could see was a wall of smoke and fire.

As darkness came we watched the fire rage across the west side of town and the inferno consume everything in its path. We sorrowed for the property owners as we watched in morbid fascination as the flames erupted in gold, orange, red and yellow, and an occasional explosion would send sparks and flame shooting high into the air. There was a surreal beauty about what was happening, in spite of the destruction, particularly as a tree would ignite and send flames high into the night sky. We watched the fire until around midnight and by then it had calmed down with just a few hot spots occasionally flaring up.

Sunday morning the fire was relatively calm, but crews were working as soon as planes could fly, knowing that the heat of the day would bring it back to life. The main part of the fire was now burning high on the Long Ridge, burning to the south away from us. Church was called off so we watch from Little Mountain most of the day as the bombers dropped retardant and the helicopters dropped water. It was quite fascinating to watch them fill up at our neighbor's pond and fly right over our heads back to the fire.

The fire truck and crew had remained stationed at our house, though they were now from Hurricane. They seemed quite bored with their duty, wanting to be where the action was. Elma Lynne offered to let them pull weeds but they declined. I met a photographer from the Deseret News named Scott Winterton. He had made it into town before the road was closed and didn't want to leave because he wouldn't be able to get back in. We fed him a couple of meals and let him sleep in a guest room which was preferable to sleeping in his car.

The fire stayed fairly high on the mountain all day Sunday yet as the day warmed up it moved across the steep slopes south of us. At dark it died down again and didn't seem to be going anywhere, and about 9:30 pm we headed for Dad's house. We noticed that our fire truck and crew were gone, which caused a little concern but not too much as the fire seemed to be down for the night. I went out by the cemetery and watched until around midnight and the fire seemed quite benign so we went to bed at Dad's house to be company for Donna while Dad is in rehab in Saint George.
Around 2:00 am we were awakened by sirens and I went out to the corner and looked toward our home to see the fire had moved down the mountain and was literally at the back of Little Mountain which was glowing like a football stadium under full lights.

I quickly dressed and hurried to our home and upon arrival there realized the fire was way too close for comfort. I called Elma Lynne and told her that if she wanted anything else out of the house she better come and get it. There was a search and rescue man knocking on our door to tell us to get out, so I relayed the message to Scott who was sleeping peacefully. Then I headed for Little Mountain to get a good view of what was happening. On the way there I ran into a Forrest Service truck and the driver said he was lost. I told him how to get back to town, and asked him to get me a fire truck if he possibly could. Within twenty minutes we had two fire trucks and about thirty Hot shots on site.

As we watched from Little Mountain the wind calmed down and the fire stopped its advance around 4:00am. At this point they decided to do a back-burn from the fire line along the forest boundary, and soon the night sky was again vivid with fire, but this time it was burning away from us. As daylight came the fire near us was pretty well controlled and we had a pretty good fire break just in case it decided to turn back.

Hot Shot crews maintained the fire break most of the day, and by evening we felt that the threat was past for us. They continued to work for another few days, with crews and planes concentrating on areas high on the mountain.

Cooler weather helped and by the following Sunday the fire was declared 100% contained and the crews began to move out. As we looked at the smoldering heap the used to be Pine Valley Mountain, our hearts are sick for the loss.

In the final assessment the fire burned an estimated 12,607 acres and cost $6.2 million to put out. At the high point there were 765 personnel including seven Hotshot crews, 11 type two crews, 10 helicopters, 2 fixed wing aircraft, 35 engines, 2 dozers, and 8 water tenders. The support staff and logistics and organization of such an operation are staggering, and it was amazing to see how quickly they assembled this team.

I think most everyone in the valley is grateful for the efforts made. It could have been much worse. Several structures and three homes were lost, one being a million dollar second home, one being an abandoned double wide and a third being an apartment type structure over a barn. Several other homes and structures were damaged, but luckily saved. Mistakes were made that could have possibly averted this tragedy, and yet I think everyone knew Pine Valley Mountain was over due for a fire. I think that most felt that since the Blue Springs Fire a few years ago had come so close, we were immune for a while, but not so.

Now it is time for healing. It will take years for the mountain to recover, perhaps even decades, but it will recover. Many of us will not be alive to see it fully happen, but we will be able to watch as life returns, the ash fades and green takes over again.

The Subway Hike

The Subway Hike

I have wanted to do hike the Subway in Zion National Park for quite some time and finally got the chance. Jim Sorenson, my dentist and fellow geocacher, invited me to go with a group he organized which consisted of himself, his wife Valynn, a 16 year old exchange student from Italy named Ellie, a cousin, the cousin's friend and the friends father. If I had done this right after the hike I might have been able to remember the names, but over a month later, no way.

We met at the Kolob visitor's center on September 3 where we picked up permits, then headed on down the road to Virgin where we took the Kolob Terrace road. We dropped one vehicle about eight miles up the road at the Left Fork Trailhead where we would end the hike, then continued on about another eight miles to Wildcat Trailhead to begin the hike.

There isn't a maintained trail, so you just have to kind of head in a southeasterly direction and follow the rock cairns. You go over a ridge, then drop down over a lot of white and red sandstone, continuing in a southerly direction until you reach the canyon.

Here you drop down about 150 feet into a slot canyon. At this time of year there was only a few pools of stagnant water at this point, but as you continue down the canyon water springs up and comes in from side canyons and becomes a pretty good stream. Before long you come to pools of water where you have to swim. It is good to have a dry bag for protecting valuables. A wetsuit might be nice if the water is really cold; you will be soaked for over an hour.


There are at least four places where you have to use a rope to get down over the rocks, and at at least one of them you end up in waist deep water .

At one of the deep holes I about drowned my $2000 camera. It didn't look that deep, and wasn't that far across so I just held my camera over my head. When I got into the hole I discovered that I couldn't touch bottom, so I was treading water with one hand and holding the camera with the other. When I got across Ellie was blocking my way out. the rocks were too slick to get a foothold and I was having a real hard time staying above water. Finally I decided I had to grab onto Ellie or get my camera wet. When she could move ahead she helped me out and we saved the camera and most of my dignity.

The photos below show how the canyon got it's name. The water has eroded the canyon walls in a circular fashion to make it look like a tunnel.

Below is one of the places where you need a rope to get down. At least most people do. One of the guys slid down the rock as far as he could, then jumped into the pool below. Not a recommended method as it would be quite a job to get someone out of there with a broken leg.

After this point the canyon widens out and there are no more rappels or forced swims. there were thunderheads gathering above us and we were glad we made it this far before the weather got any worse. On down the canyon a couple of miles is the trail out. You hike up the steep rocky slope shown below and come out of the canyon near the Left Fork Trailhead where we left a vehicle.

The route we took is about 9.5 miles and took us close to eight hours. A less challenging hike would be to hike in from the lower trailhead and then back out the same way. If you hike as far as you can without ropes, you will get to see a lot of the canyon and not get very wet.

The New Meadow Pipeline

The New Meadow Pipeline

The meadow ditch has always been in my nightmares! When I was growing up on the farm I hated cleaning the ditch more than just about anything. Unless it was milking the cows or hauling hay. The meadow ditch was always swampy, and the grass would grow in thick and tough. When you tried to clean it, you would just think you had a shovel full, and some roots would catch and pull your load off the shovel and back into the ditch where it would splash muddy water all over you. After a while of struggling with that you would look like you had been mud wrestling, and smell even worse.

Over the years Dad placed some pipe in the ditch to help transport the water, but he lacked the necessary resources to do a good job. Where he needed an outlet, he would leave a gap in the pipe, and that was where the cows would always choose to tromp and plug things up. There wasn't enough fall in the line to keep the water moving very fast anyway, and these "tromp points" introduced a lot of mud and silt into the pipe until it was nearly plugged in many places until you could hardly get any water at the downstream end.

Earlier this year I convinced my neighbor, Garth Frehner, that if we could replace the pipe, we would get plenty of water for both of us from Redd Creek through the meadow. He did some investigation and decided I was right. He purchased the materials and provided most of the equipment and labor. My meager assistance amounted to back-filling with my skid steer and connecting the valves.

The photos below show the work progressing. We waited until what we thought would be the driest time of the year, knowing that the meadow was quite swampy even then. We had trouble with water filling the trench and the trench caving in, and getting equipment stuck, but all in all we got the job done.

The photo below shows the completed project, with one of the valves cracked enough to let some water out for the livestock.

A new head gate was also installed in Redd Creek to provide a diversion point for the water. It was designed to collect water while keeping out trash and limbs. It will also collect sediment and silt (and ash) and keep them out of the pipeline.


In addition to providing a way to get the water across what has been a very wet and troublesome bog, It will provide me with a way to fill a pond I have been planning to build. That will be the subject of another blog when I get it finished.

The Silver Beaver

The Silver Beaver

The Silver Beaver Award is the highest award given in Scouting. It is awarded to those who have given extraordinary service to youth through the scouting program over a period of many years. In order to achieve this award you have to be nominated by someone in local leadership, then have your service record reviewed, then your nomination approved by the Council. It is not something you can apply for or actually work toward.



I know a few people who have recieved The Silver Beaver, but I never considered that I would be one of them. I have worked in the youth of the church most of my adult life. I have been ward Young Men's President three times, Scoutmaster two times and have probably been a merit badge counselor forever. In the councils and districts where I gave the majority of this service, recognition for adults seemed quite rare.


Three years ago when I returned to Southern Utah, my bishop submitted my name when the district asked for cantidates for the Second Miler Award, a district recognition. Joyce messer, who does all the work for the district awards interviewed me and told me I should have been, and would be recognized for my many years of service. That year I recieved the Second Miler Award, the next year I recieved the District Award of Merit, and this year I recieved the Silver Beaver Award.


The award ceremony was at the Provo Tabernacle on September 12, 2009. Ninety-six people from the Cedar Breaks Council recieved this recognition. Many of these people have worked much harder and put in more time than I have, some perhaps less, and I am sure there are many scouters out there who deserve this recognition more than I. Nonetheless, I am extreemly honored to have the award and will wear it with pride.


Governor Gary Herbert spoke at the ceremony, after which each cantidate walked to the podium with their escort (Elma Lynne) and the award was presented while a short bio was read. After exiting the stand, a photo was taken with the district scout executive.


All our kids from the area and their spouses came to the ceremony, which was an honor for me as well. After the ceremony we took the group to lunch at Olive Garden where we had a good visit before returning home.