Whether we like it or not, what we wear says something about us and reveals insight into our personality, our taste, and possibly our attitudes. Just think baggy jeans with underwear sticking out, skinny jeans, a business suit, a low cut, slinky dress, wranglers, or a ball cap worn sideways, to name just a few. As you think about them, images come to mind with conjoined judgment.
Over the years fashions have changed only to come back around decades later. Clothing trends popular one year die and give way to new trends the next, but some items remain classic. There is an enduring quality to them that makes them adaptable to the progression of time and loved by one generation to the next. One of those items is the flannel shirt, and whether you agree with me or not, I think a flannel says, “Cool, laid back, unpretentious.”
When I see someone in a flannel, any number of things may come to mind depending on how they wear it, but overall I usually think, “My people.” The greatest thing I have seen recently in regard to flannel is that it seems to transcend not just time, but class as well. Gone are the days when only lumberjacks, miners, or fishermen wore flannels – everyone is, from doctors to surfers, hunters to pop stars, from hipsters and gangsters, to metrosexuals. It’s not just for grunge music, nor just for men. These time tested shirts are everywhere and on everyone and are made by companies from Carhartt to Victoria’s Secret.
So what is the allure to these time tested shirts? I think it is what they represent. They represent the humble, the hardworking, the hard scrabble, the rebel rousers, the adventurous, and more generally, ‘the common man.’ They are practical and simple, and I think it is the simplicity that draws people and social groups to them decade after decade.
They also tend to generally be worn by those in the outdoors community, whether ranchers or climbers, and no wonder, they got their beginning by the Welsh who needed clothing that would keep them warm from the elements – something that is always necessary for those who spend a lot of time outside. And let’s not forget plaid, the synonymous pattern associated with flannel shirts, which got its start in, where else but Scotland. As for America, we all know the legendary Paul Bunyan and his black and red flannel which may have contributed to the myth and lore surrounding the shirt, but they were largely popularized by Hamilton Carhatt who made clothing specifically for the blue collar working class, including flannels, in the late 1880s.
So whatever your take on flannels, they’ve been around a long damn time, and for good reason. They are warm, casual, colorful, and are typically reasonably priced. I like getting mine from local thrift stores and often find real gems with brand names like Pendleton, Woolworth, and Patagonia, for a few bucks at the most. They are kind of like an aged wine, the older they get, the better they look – and feel.
So in homage to the flannel, we have our annual non-Christmas, Christmas flannel party every December. Everyone is required to wear a flannel and must bring food and drink to attend. In other words, it’s the antithesis to a serious religious ceremony to mark the birth of Christ or a rated G family holiday party. I guess in retrospect, it’s kind of a Krampus party in that it’s more in the spirit old Saint Nick’s holiday devil sidekick than the jolly old man himself.
I’d be willing to bet the German originated Alpine Christmas devil wore flannel – or perhaps didn’t play tricks on those who did. Either way, between today ringing in the first day of winter, Christmas around the corner, and the cold weather to boot, flannel is king this time of year – though as stated already, it has a steady showing all year long.
There is a difference between Californians and Utahans: the Coastals are always looking for water. While water is not hard to find in canyoneering routes, as they are typically drainages, I have never seen a group of people act more amphibian-like than when my friends from California came out to Utah for some desert adventure. Personally, I would just as soon avoid cold water altogether, but I endure it to see beautiful landscapes I would not otherwise get to see; my friends?
They explore beautiful desert landscapes almost like sailors out at sea, but rather than looking for land, they are perpetually on the look-out for an oasis. As if these Californians had gills, every outing ended in a river, a swimming hole, a pool, or a reservoir, and luckily for me, also at human watering holes. It is not often that I forget how awesome it is to live here, but when my friends came to visit I not only saw just how incredible this place is and how lucky I am to live here by seeing it through their eyes, I got to experience it with a dash of California that made it fun, different, and yes, wet.
Over the years my husband and I befriended employees at the Patagonia Headquarters in Ventura California. We periodically head out there for events or to visit friends and family. When there, we of course buy bomber Patagonia wear or gear and chat with the locals. Those random conversations, laughs, and shared time have turned into real friendships, and though Ventura couldn’t be more opposite from St. George, the commonality of awesome outdoor adventures soon led our new friends to come visit us and check out the Utah scene. Not wanting to disappoint, we obliged them with a 10 day, packed to the hilt, non-stop, wear your ass out, southern Utah adventure.
It was a whirlwind canyoneering, hiking, climbing, swimming, camping, eating and drinking party. We had a blast. It was like vacationing in our own backyard. Though we would certainly go out and do these things on our own, it is not often that we would put our life on hold and do it for 10 days, but I am now convinced that everyone must do this at least once. Go on vacation where you live. Not a day hike or an over-nighter; not while keeping up with email, work, and chores – just a no holds barred, multiple day break from the obligations of life vacation, right where you live. You might be amazed at how incredible it is.
We practically lived in Zion, spending more than half of our time there. Because our friends staggered their arrival and came in two different groups, we did Pine Creek Canyon and the Triple Crown: Birch, Orderville, and the Narrows twice and virtually back-to-back-to-back. Pine Creek is a very popular, relatively short, subterranean canyon that is a good one to start with. When you go at the right time of day, golden sunlight fills the narrow slot and makes it glow. Of course there is the dreaded water and a large pool in the Cathedral that I endured (twice no doubt), that my friends, not surprisingly, loved, relished, swam around in, and shot loads of photos in. Even with a wetsuit it was cold and since we didn’t start at the golden hour, the canyon was dark and cold as well.
That is the beauty and danger of many of the canyons in Zion. Most of the time you can get in and out of the water quickly, but sometimes you can’t, and even in the summer, standing around wet in cold shade for very long can be a game changer; so I headed out with some others to warm up in the sunlight and waited for the water lovers to get their fill and rejoin us on the ledge of the last 90 foot, free hanging rappel. In contrast, the hike back out to our car was scorching hot, so the cold was quickly forgotten and by the time we scrambled out of the canyon we were ready for some more and jumped and yee-hawed into the swimming hole. It was cold, but refreshing.
The great secret of Zion is that all trails end in Springdale, at least if you go in the right direction. With its varied watering holes, it is my version of a cool reprieve in the desert and we of course took our friends to our favorite local spots. After Pine Creek we camped in Zion to be ready for a shuttle taking us to Birch Hollow early the next morning. So far, Birch and Orderville Canyons ending in the Narrows is my favorite hike in the park. You get to experience three completely different canyons all in one hike. Birch, thankfully, has no water.
Going down Birch is like being a skipped stone across water, just one rappel after another. The last rappel is the longest, most fun, and most photographed and both times I have gone it was photo worthy and awesome. The hike into Orderville starts like a dried out river bed, and rather blandly. It is open and feels more like a hike – until you start seeing water that is. A natural spring marks the beginning of those famous towering walls and legendary slots. Orderville is full of awkward down climbs and rappels into rushing water and pools. It has hanging gardens as well as hanging rocks. It is the most fairytale-like hike in the Canyon. Of course it dumps you into the Narrows, just the last two to three miles of it, which gives you just enough of a sense of the Narrows to appreciate it. If timed right the setting sun hits the walls as you exit and it is like walking through cold fire. It is spectacular. And though the amount of people balloons in the famous canyon, it’s so amazing, you really don’t care.
We had bumps and scratches from the canyons, but it wasn’t enough. A trip out to Gooseberry Mesa for some world class mountain biking was on the dockets as well. Since no trip really happens unless it has been documented, one of our friends strapped on a Go Pro and pedaled out. Not disappointing us, he crashed and burned and we all oohed and ahhed when we watched it. Gooseberry is like Moab minus all the jeeps and is a mountain biker’s heaven, or at least it is when you are not roasting in the sun. Another stop had to be made on the way home at Quail Creek Reservoir for a dip in the water. After the mountain biking trek our friends treated us to a home cooked meal of tacos, chips, guacamole, and no, not water, but beer. We made a fire in our front yard, played some tunes, and had a great, cool but not cold, evening under the stars.
We also got out and did some climbing, but not nearly enough in my estimation (next time). The rock climbing opportunities here are everywhere, and the beauty of climbing here is that most of the time, you get the crag to yourself. The more rock climbing inclined members of the group were astounded at the uncrowded walls and crags, stating that if they were in California they would be packed every day, and vowed to come back. There wasn’t time to do any climbing in Zion, but I am sure that will happen in the future at some point. Some front country hikes were done on the final day of the trip and then our frog friends were gone, back to the beaches of California to surf, paddle, swim, and scuba dive.
When they left we turned back to our quiet and well-used house, empty fridge, and piling obligations that we had put on hold while they were here, not quite ready to get back to normal. We felt a void in our friends’ absence and re-enacted our time with them in conversations, stories, and laughter after they left. Already they are hinting at another trip our way, and we are thinking of what we will get out and do this time: Southern Utah the sequel. I’m more exited this time around, not only for the prospect of more adventures, but to hang with my ultra-versatile, yet insanely cool, Cali friends.
I am certain, and now prepared, that I will get an unusual dose of water not easily found in the desert hanging with this crowd, but I am stoked at the prospect of vacationing in my backyard again because it’s that awesome; and because it’s as good as vacationing anywhere else, if not more so because home turns into an exotic and thrilling home-away-from-home. And perhaps we will return the favor and bring a little desert with us the next time we visit them. While I am certain they know they live in a stellar place, maybe they also will get the chance to see their home through our eyes and vacation in their own backyard with renewed excitement and perspective. Hell, I might even stick a foot in the ocean…with the other on solid land of course.