As a buck, I don’t much understand what the big deal about birthdays is. The way I see it, every day spent on this earth is worth celebrating because it means I didn’t get eaten by a mountain lion or hit by a car while crossing the 405 freeway. But E+J have explained to me that for humans, celebrating yearly birthdays is an important tradition, and that’s why we generally find ourselves in the Sierra Nevada each July — to celebrate J’s birthday.
Most years we don’t hit the Sierra for a backpacking trip until July, but the changing climate means the summer backpacking season too is changing. With this year’s low snow and the likelihood of wildfires growing with each passing week, we decided we would head out for a short, last-minute trip to scratch the wanderlust itch we were left with after an off-the-beaten-path trip to Grand Canyon last month. We did some research on Sierra trails that are suitable for early season exploration and settled on this one. We hiked it June 10-12, and while we had traveled the middle portion of this route when we did the John Muir trail back in 2015, the beginning and end portions were new and intriguing to us.
A backpacking trip to the Grand Canyon was an annual tradition for us for 6 years starting in 2013 — we’ve written about permitting and preparing for these various routes in the past. But in 2018 E went back to school for her Ph.D., which meant that the favorable travel seasons of spring and fall would present a conflict with school. We finally returned in 2021.
As a mule deer, this is among the parks I really enjoy visiting because I am right at home with my fellow hoofed brethren — other deer, elk, and big horn sheep. No one raises an eyebrow when I saunter past. They just think I am part of the mix of wildlife, having no way of knowing they are actually standing eye-to-shoulder with a cosmopolitan, well-traveled buck.
We are honored that a new exhibit showcasing dearantler’s work will be showing online and in-person by appointment at Avenue 50 Studio from April 17 through May 29. Elements of Existence explores our collective relationship with nature through the lens of the four classical elements -- water, earth, fire, air -- with each element represented on one of the four walls in Avenue 50 Studio's intimate Annex Room. In all, eighty-one paintings, watercolors, and prints offer an homage to nature's therapeutic beauty while also prompting us to examine our misuse of natural resources and our impact on flora, fauna, ecosystems, and our fellow humans in this, our only home. From finding wonder in nature to witnessing catastrophic extremes of rising sea levels and unprecedented wildfires, Elements of Existence offers an array of musings on our past, current, and possible future relationships to all that sustains us on planet Earth.
Something stirs you awake during the blue hour, and you can’t be sure if you heard a sound or if your mind is projecting. You are alone but you feel a presence other than your own. Is it benevolent? Is it trying to tell you something? Your eyes are heavy and you drift between waking and dreaming. Is your half-awake, half-asleep state dulling or sharpening your senses? Is this hypnagogic state a doorway to a different reality?
In the latest show from dearantler we wander through the witching hour. Come along as we surrender to the night, open the door to the supernatural, explore the land of dreams, and commune with the impossible.
This is an unusual year for everything, including (and perhaps especially) travel. With California under stay-at-home orders for the first few months of the COVID-19 pandemic, we stuck to day hiking near home and we visited many parts of the Angeles National Forest that we had never before explored, which led us to fall in love with LA and its roomy backyard all over again.
The COVID-19 pandemic has turned the world inside out. In one fell swoop, the very nature of human connection has been rewritten. Stay-at-home orders have been imposed in cities around the world. Second-nature expressions like handshakes and hugs are a strange and distant memory. Terms like social distancing, lockdown, quarantine, and droplets (currently our least favorite word in the English language) have invaded the parlance of our times and taken root. A public health disaster whose only logical remedy is an adherence to science and data has been grossly politicized. Moral quandaries usually reserved for academic halls of philosophy are playing out the world over, pinning public health outcomes against economic well-being. The most vulnerable members of our global society — including the elderly and those living in minority communities — are dying in disproportionate numbers while medical staff are literally ill-equipped to prevent it. Patients die alone, their loved ones unable to visit them. Unemployment rates climb past Depression-era highs. On every continent, people are self-isolating while time slows and blurs.
Death Valley National Park is a vast land full of surprises waiting to be discovered and explored. From the lowest point in North America at Badwater Basin (282 ft. below sea level) to Telescope Peak (11,049 ft.), Death Valley encompasses multiple mountain ranges, valleys, and countless canyons that offer a giant playground for exploring fascinating geology, jaw-dropping terrain, and interesting human and natural history. As the largest national park outside of Alaska, it offers limitless opportunities for exploration and is one of our favorite places to visit.
When the Sierra speaks, it’s hard to argue. The HST is a historic traverse of the Range of Light from the verdant and gentle lands at Crescent Meadow in Sequoia National Park’s Giant Forest, to the rugged, weather-beaten escarpments of majestic Mt. Whitney, the highest point in the contiguous U.S. So without further ado, we decided to hike the High Sierra Trail with our pal Torin and see this wonderful stretch of land with our own eyes.
A couple of years ago we were invited to contribute to the hiking book Wanderlust: Hiking on Legendary Trails with photos and descriptions of our 2015 trek of the John Muir Trail. It’s a beautiful coffee-table book that will make any hiker salivate. Flipping through its pages, we fell in love with many trails around the world, but one in particular seemed to beckon more strongly than the rest: the Annapurna Circuit.
When we decided to trek the Annapurna Circuit, J and I had imagined we would have short hiking days with time to spare at the end of each day. Not so. And so I carried a notebook, a novel, and watercolors up and down the world’s highest mountain range and am just now documenting the trip. Now I find myself in the position of recapping an indescribably new and rich set of experiences that occurred over nearly three weeks, with no real idea of how I’m going to do them justice in retrospect, when words are a poor substitute for the real thing.
It's a lucky thing to live in California and have an excuse to visit the High Sierra in late July. Our excuse: J's birthday is July 26 -- prime time to get into those higher elevations. Every year, we make it a point to reserve a few days (or weeks) out of the summer calendar to explore a portion of the Sierra's endless network of trails. This time around we were in the mood for a shorter trek with day hiking and cross-country options for going away from camp. This loop fit the bill perfectly.
In the latest dearantler show, we pay homage to nature's grandest cathedrals, its most heavenward sacred spaces: mountains. From the most inviting and verdant summits, to inhospitable thin-aired peaks far above timberline, mountains offer weary human souls a dose of the grandiose, a chance for renewal, a baptismal reconnection to our primeval roots of wandering lands high and low.
If the John Muir Trail is the crown jewel of the Pacific Crest Trail, then the Evolution Basin and Valley are perhaps the most strikingly-sculpted gem to be carefully placed in that jewel. One bite of the Evolution area is liable to infect any passerby, causing even the most mileage-minded thru-hiker to slow down and soak in the absurdly stunning combinations of rock, water and sky.
We at dearantler are honored to have contributed to the newly-published book Wanderlust: Hiking on Legendary Trails. This beautiful coffee-table book is filled with inspiration and practical tips on hiking some of the world's most enchanting trails. The John Muir Trail chapter includes many of the photos and descriptions of our 2015 JMT trek. The book is published by Berlin-based Gestalten, which has published hundreds of books on art, architecture, design, photography and typography -- and we have been busy reading it to decide which treks to plan next!
In my book, one way to define good friendship is having friends that push you to new heights and experiences. E+J's Utah buds Christine and James, who live at the doorstep to Zion National Park, have proven their good friendship many times. Most recently, they invited E+J to join them for a trip to Perú. E+J were instantly intrigued and up to the challenge of figuring out logistics and finances to make the trip a reality. And so they did.
I sat this trip out given the difficulty of transporting a full-grown buck with an enormous rack by airplane. Below E recounts the trip as she and J experienced it.
In the latest dearantler show we attempt to convey the indescribable allure that the desert has for us. My deer relatives, accustomed to the nourishing bounty of Southern California's oak woodlands and chaparral-covered hills, turn their ears away whenever I sing the desert's praises. E+J tell me that their human brethren often greet them with similar disinterest, asking questions like: "What's so special about the desert? Isn't there just a whole lot of nothing out there?"
We are honored to share with you the brand-new video we helped create for Sara Lov's stunningly beautiful song 'Rain Up.' We have been fans of Sara's hauntingly gorgeous music since the early 2000s, when she and Dustin O'Halloran created one great album after another under the Devics moniker. O'Halloran co-wrote 'Rain Up' with Sara.
The video premieres today on Flood Magazine.
Just four hours from Los Angeles and a few miles in by trail lies a stunning landscape of 14,000-foot mountains, milky-turquoise lakes, and the largest glacier in the Sierra Nevada. We visited in mid-September and were at once humbled by the beauty, enormity and variety of features within easy reach for even a beginning backpacker.
Having successfully completed the John Muir Trail in 2015, we were looking to get back out to the Sierra Nevada for another thru-hike this summer. After some consideration of the many options the Sierra affords, we decided to tackle the next section of the Pacific Crest Trail north of the JMT (the JMT itself overlaps with the PCT for most of its length). Starting at Barker Pass, in the northwest Lake Tahoe area, this section travels nearly 200 miles to Yosemite’s Tuolumne Meadows. Along the way, it passes innumerable lakes, creeks and streams, crosses several roads and highways, climbs up and down numerous mountain passes.
Another year passes and we find ourselves at summer's doorstep once more. California is fortunate to have year-round access to the outdoors -- but even in the land of never-ending exploration opportunities, summer affords special access to some of the most incredible places this state has on offer. Among these are the Sierra Nevada Mountains -- the Range of Light, as John Muir called it. At 400 miles long -- from Tehachapi Pass in Kern County, to Fredonyer Pass in Lassen County -- the Sierra is home to three national parks (Yosemite, Sequoia and Kings Canyon), 20 wilderness areas, and many other iconic features, including Lake Tahoe and Mount Whitney.
Many consider the John Muir Trail to be the crown jewel of this spectacular mountain range. Even a well-traveled buck like me would be hard pressed to find a land to match its awe-inspiring magnificence. And so, with summer here once again, we pay homage to this stunning 220-mile ribbon of trail in the hopes of inspiring others to breathe its therapeutic air, see its exhilirating sites and feel its recuperative effects.
Looking toward Hetch Hetchy on the descent into the Grand Canyon of the Tuolumne River
This is an unusual year for everything, including (and perhaps especially) travel. With California under stay-at-home orders for the first few months of the COVID-19 pandemic, we stuck to day hiking near home and we visited many parts of the Angeles National Forest that we had never before explored, which led us to fall in love with LA and its roomy backyard all over again.
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A few years ago we found ourselves in Grand Canyon during the last week of April. We tried for and were issued a walk-up permit to backpack down into the Canyon, spending a few blissful days and nights soaking in its grandeur. Right then and there we got hooked on the splendor and intimacy of a trek below the rim. And so every last week of April since, we have made it a point to return to that big crack in the earth and tackle a below-the-rim route.