The interstate climbs uphill for a dozen miles, generating a steady stream of sedans, pickups and SUVs jockeying for position in the passing lone, intent on overtaking the slower-moving traffic.

Frustrated drivers are racing to get to the top of the plateau where the congestion will even out and they’ll finally regain the speed limit. Their passengers, meanwhile, are hoping for a stop at the upcoming rest area after a nervewracking ride.

As a child in the backseat, I was interested in neither. Each time we finally crested the mesa top, I’d immediately look east, across the grassy plateau to a small, unassuming knoll. A watchful eye would notice that the knoll, listed on maps as Joe’s Hill, was actually on an adjacent mesa, with the top edge of a gorge that divided the two occasionally peeking into view as our minivan sped past. To my eyes, that sliver of cliff face was visual confirmation that there was something interesting over there.

Unfortunately, it would take nearly two decades for me to finally peer into the river gorge and explore what was on the other side. By that time, those mesas and canyons had been protected as Agua Fria National Monument.

Ask anyone in Phoenix where the Sunset Point Rest Area is and they’ll answer without hesitation. But ask them where Agua Fria National Monument is and you’ll receive many confused looks. In spite of being located conveniently along one of the most popular roadways in Arizona and directly across the interstate from the state’s best known rest stop, relatively few people know much about the national monument.

Amid the grassland mesas and the river canyon I saw as a child lies the remains of a fascinating prehistoric people known today as the Perry Mesa Tradition. There are hundreds upon hundreds of pueblo ruins, rock art panels, and other archaeological resources to be found here. But you need to be willing to investigate the area in order to see any of them. I’ve brought a dozen friends with me to Agua Fria over the years and each one is immediately stunned. “I never knew this was here,” is a confession repeated by most first-time visitors.

Agua Fria National Monument was designated in 2000 by President Clinton, who called it “one of the most significant systems of later prehistoric sites in the American Southwest.” Managed as part of the Bureau of Land Management’s National Conservation Lands, these national monuments differ from those managed by the National Park Service. While the national parks are known for their interpretative visitor centers, ranger talks, and famous lodges, these new national monuments feature none of those.

Agua Fria National Monument has no official visitor center, no paved roads, and just two short trails. What it might lack in visitor amenities, however, it more than makes up for by offering an unusually unconfined adventure. Here, the experience really is what you, the visitor, make of it. There are no roped off areas, no manicured trails, no entrance fees and—thank goodness—no crowds, either. You’ll need some curiosity and imagination to enjoy your time here, as you won’t find any interpretative walks or detailed trail guides, either. While it may not seem particularly visitor-friendly at first blush, this model often provides a far more personal and meaningful experience.

It’s probably not a surprise that my first foray into the backcountry of Agua Fria led me towards the place I’d always examined from afar. A bumpy truck ride and a short offtrail hike later, I found myself at the edge of the river canyon. In front of me lay the ruins of an ancient settlement, nearly 300 rooms in total, perched at the edge of a deep side canyon emptying into the main gorge. On the other side of the gorge was Black Mesa, the plateau bisected by the busy interstate.

I bent down to inspect some painted pottery sherds, which littered the ground all around the structure. Unlike many famous ruins, these have not been partially reconstructed. You find them as they are: worn down, overgrown with vegetation and deserted for centuries. Piles of partially toppled walls provide a mere hint of the ruin’s former glory.

I spent some time reconstructing them in my mind before scrambling down the edge of the cliff a bit to inspect a rock face filled with ancient art. I studied the images, pondering the interplay between the various depictions. As I turned to scout further down, I couldn’t help but look back across the canyon towards the semis and sedans barreling down the highway just two short miles away. Was anyone staring back, probing the horizon for future places to explore as l once had?

I think that’s why I treasure this place so much. Every time I visit, I can relive that childhood sense of wonder at what might lie over there—whether “over there” refers to a cluster of ruins at the canyon’s edge, or just a mundane pile of rocks in the distance. Like most of the National Conservation Lands, Agua Fria National Monument is a place that’s meant to be explored and investigated, not a place to blandly stroll from interpretative marker to interpretative marker. The excitement of discovering something on your own, whether a solitary petroglyph or an unexpected ruin, creates a visceral and intimate memory that’s hard to replicate in more developed parks. Once you spend some time enthusiastically inventorying the land, inspecting that rock face or traipsing down the hillside just to see if there’s anything there, you’ll understand why I cherish a national monument like Agua Fria so much. As I approach 40 years old, it’s where I go to explore like a kid again.

The post Where I Go To Explore Like a Kid Again: Agua Fria National Monument appeared first on rscottjones.

So I thought this might be a fun exercise for anyone who wants to participate. I’ll link to everyone’s post here (use the form below to alert me to your post).

No rules, just 5(ish) vignettes about something interesting or unusual or noteworthy about you or your life so far. Short or long, it doesn’t matter, whatever you like. If you’ve already blogged about something you want to include, just include the link in your post. Don’t overthink it, just pick a few things and write about them, then send me the link.

5 Interesting Things participants

• (your name and post link here)
• Eugene Glover
• Me – posted below, just scroll down some more

Send me your link!

Five Interesting Things about me

Whew boy, I made some of these long enough to be their own standalone blog posts! Oh well, they’ll live here for now. I’ve added some anchor links to make it easier to jump ahead if you’d prefer.

• Coding my first “real” website
• I registered for the wrong college course and it changed my life
• I was sober until my 30s. Then I started drinking.
• I pushed the boundaries of employment pretty far at my first job
• For a year, I co-authored one the most popular blogs on the web

Coding my first “real” website

Back in college, I learned that one of my friends was running for city council. She didn’t have a website, and I thought she really should. So I stayed up late for a few nights and learned some rudimentary html + css and made her one.

It wasn’t great, but it was serviceable and certainly better than nothing. I helped her get her stuff online and served as her “webmaster” (remember those?) for her first several campaigns before she finally hired a professional. She continued on to became a (rather infamous) US Senator.

I registered for the wrong college course and it changed my life

I abandoned my anticipated career path after my first year in college, so I decided to take a semester or two off to find a new path. Of course, I didn’t realize that I needed to be a half-time student to keep my medical and car insurance under my parents’ plan, which was the only way I could afford them.

I discovered this with about an hour to spare on the last day of late registration, so I raced over to the local community college and scrambled through its schedule of classes (available on newsprint!). I didn’t have time to research which courses would be useful, and they didn’t have any course catalogs for me to look through. So I had to just squint at the table of small print and choose two classes that had no prerequisites, whose title sounded somewhat interesting, and fit the time windows I had available. Finding the right time was far more important than finding the right class, as my then-girlfriend and I lived in an apartment off campus, shared one car, both worked across town, and would now be going to different schools.

I found a political science class that seemed to fit the bill. It was a three credit class that only met for one single hour on Thursday nights. Jackpot! I had no idea what the course was, though, as the title was just some weird abbreviation, something like “SRCLNG.” I called the automated student registration system and dialed in my choices, crossing my fingers that it was still available. It was.

The following week, I got a call from the “professor,” explaining to me that I had actually registered for an internship (they called it “Service Learning”) and asking how I had unwittingly done that without having any polisci credits. I talked him into letting me do it in spite of the error.

I looked through his list of local organizations that were open to interns and arranged an interview with one of them. After some initial conversation, a photocopied law review article was pushed rather dramatically across the table towards me and I was asked, “Scott, do you want to help me change the Arizona Constitution?”

It was, obviously, a surreal moment that felt torn from a movie, and certainly a memorable question to ask an 18-year old wannabe community college intern who hadn’t even taken an intro to polisci class yet. I mean, I was half expecting to make photocopies of things like this, not actually be involved in them.

So I helped him and his organization, which was collaborating with a number of other advocacy groups, political leaders, and other movers-and-shakers, to author a ballot initiative that would change the Arizona Constitution by creating an Independent Redistricting Commission, removing from the legislature the ability to gerrymander their own district boundaries.

Now, it’s not like I was making major decisions in this coalition, but I was known by name to all and I got what I considered extraordinary access to the entire process, all the meetings, some of the juicy backroom gossip, and so forth. I learned so, so much; it was incredible. There was even one change I was able to make in the draft text that survived to the final version. Admittedly, it was a typo that would have been caught or mentioned by someone else, but it’s still a fun tidbit.

I first extended, then re-enrolled in the internship once or twice again, and was eventually hired by the campaign to assist the campaign manager as we worked to collect signatures to get it on the ballot, and then to get it passed by the voters. It passed 56-43 in 2000, and was later upheld by the US Supreme Court in two separate decisions. It remains the law today.

Obviously, working on a successful effort like that really adds to your sense of efficacy. It was sorta hard to take classwork seriously after having just made a difference “in the real world.” And as an idealistic college student who wanted to make the world better, it definitely fueled the direction I took from there. With all the connections I had made in the political advocacy arena, I naturally got involved in countless other efforts, organizations, and such and eventually leading to my career in public lands conservation. No class has had a bigger impact on me than that fateful internship “mistake.”

I was sober until my 30s. Then I started drinking.

I wasn’t at all happy with my dad’s drinking during my childhood, so I vowed to remain sober. I’m generally immune to peer pressure, so it was something I didn’t have trouble sticking with, even in high school and college and into my 20s. Of course, I was left out of a lot of the fun, but since I was already living with my then-girlfriend (who had also decided not to drink for similar reasons), we got along fine together as the non-drinkers and non-partiers. We always had each other, even if others looked at us with distrust or disdain.

We divorced in my early thirties, and I suddenly found myself dating someone who drank. It was pretty jarring, initially; I had unexpected feelings of resentment and social infidelity. It felt gross.

I realized that I had let my dad’s relationship with alcohol define my own. So I decided that I should approach alcohol on my own terms, not his. After experimenting for a bit, I finally landed on craft beer (luckily, I completely missed a cheap crap beer phase). It opened an entirely new scene for me, which was well timed in my life. You absolutely do not need alcohol to have fun, but I reluctantly admitted to myself that it does act a social lubricant that can be useful, especially in group settings.

So why did I choose craft beer, specifically? Well, it was an intentional choice. While I’ll (very occasionally) drink wine and cocktails, I wanted to limit my alcohol consumption to one primary “type” (which comports with my personal One Vice Rule).

Craft beer is, well, crafted—love went into the process in a way it doesn’t with mass beer. It’s tastier, more complex, offers much more variety in styles, is generally “higher” quality, and often reflects values I appreciate, such as localism and inclusion. Craft beer aficionados generally drink craft beer because they like all these things about it, not because they’re just trying to get drunk—a key difference, which is readily apparent when you compare craft breweries with neighborhood dive bars. And because of all this, it’s also more expensive than cheap beer, which naturally limits one’s consumption, too.

Many breweries get started because a hobbyist enjoyed brewing beer at home and eventually expanded the operation. They’re generally locally owned, and the people who work there generally love craft beer, too. And, comparatively speaking, the brewery locations themselves are generally cleaner, more open and lively, and much inviting than your standard bar. One of my favorite brewery trends are reclaiming old buildings in an attempt to revitalize downtrodden downtowns, offering pooch-friendly spaces, and inviting food trucks to provide yummy sustenance for your customers.

In spite of my previous distaste, I came to view both bars and breweries as important third places. They’re one of the increasingly rare places where you can strike up a conversation with a stranger seated next to you, no matter who you are or where you’re from. In nearly every destination (outside of tourist areas), they are legitimate hubs of community for many people. In fact, I consider craft breweries (and even some local dive bars) to be excellent destinations for meeting locals when you’re traveling—I integrate them into many of my own trips.

I’ve come to really appreciate and enjoy beer—craft beer, at least—in a way that I would not have believed when I turned 30. And I certainly would not have helped my dad graduate hospice by wheeling him over to the local bar (a feat his doctors marveled at), which taught me a lot about the importance of these places like this in people’s lives.

These days, I’m a regular at our favorite local brewery, which is a leisurely 5 minute bike ride from our house (I’m actually writing this right now over a pint). Since I started drinking, I’ve tasted more than 5300 unique craft beers, visited more than 530 local breweries, and raised a pint at more than 1300 total venues. I really enjoy trying new brews and new breweries, as further evidenced by my various beer quests (visiting every brewery in each of the US territories, a brewery in each of the 50 states, every brewery in Arizona, hitting the 5000 unique beer mark, etc). On net, it’s been a positive in my life.

But it’s not all positive, of course. There are definitely a number of downsides, as my waistline can readily attest. Many really great people find themselves struggling with alcohol, and that sucks. And I’m proud of so many of them for finding their way through those tough times. It feels a bit weird to have gone the opposite direction than the norm, but I also know what it feels like to be the sober one at a social gathering. I’ll support you whether you drink, or not.

I pushed the boundaries of employment pretty far at my first job¹

Throughout high school and college, I worked at Staples. First in Mesa, then eventually in north Scottsdale, which was just being developed at the time. A lot of “new money” was moving in, mostly from California. Most of their kids were decidedly spoiled.

It showed, and the store had trouble attracting quality employees. It wasn’t hard to rise above the bunch, especially if you were “college material” to begin with. So my wife and I gained some impressive leverage as employees. We were essentially quasi-managers for the store, and while we accepted as many pay raises was we could, we refused promotions that added responsibility; after all, we were in school and had no interest in a career in retail.

We used this leverage to ensure that we only worked the schedules we wanted (always the same hours so we could share one car), take whatever days off for any road trip we wanted to do, and also to never miss an ASU football game, which we had season tickets for.

I was pretty anti-consumerism and very vocal about it, which was a bit incongruous with my employment. But the benefits and ease of the job outweighed the downsides, so we stuck it out. But that didn’t end my frustrations with working for a big box retailer. So, I leaned into my leverage much more, and openly protested as much as I could. Always pushing the line far beyond where others would get fired, but that the rest of my work performance—I was highly capable and effective at the actual job—would save me from.

For instance, for almost three years, I refused to be on time. My wife and I would drive to work together, and she’d clock in before the appointed time, but I would just wait outside or in the break room, wait until I was 8 minutes past (we had a 7 minute grace period), then clock in. Again, I did this years, without a single write-up.

“That’s just Scott being Scott” I’m sure the managers sighed to each other. It helped that my wife (also very effective and a model employee) and I were a “package deal,” so to speak. How could they replace both of us? It’d be pretty tough with the kinds of applicants they were routinely getting.

On big sale days, I’d often park our car in front of the store in a prime parking space (a “no no” per store policy), and would conveniently plaster the rear window with anti-corporate materials, such as “Buy Nothing Day” from AdBusters.

I got even more brazen and eventually launched a website called fstaples.com, which I circulated among fellow coworkers as a place to complain about stuff we hated about the company. Somehow, I stayed employed and continued to enjoy those benefits, like telling management when I’d work and not work. I won a national customer service award, which provided even more “cover” for my exploits, especially since the higher ups knew who I was.

Eventually, my wife finished her degree and got a “big girl” job as a social worker; and a semester later, I moved on to a professional job in conservation, too. It was definitely time to move on, but I always laugh about how I managed to leave on my own terms after all I had put them through. (Note: I left out a lot of other shenanigans)

For a year, I co-authored one the most popular blogs on the web

Back around 2005ish, I was blogging on my own website and enjoying conversations with other bloggers. One of them started a political opinion blog and asked me if I wanted to join as a co-author. We both wrote for about a year, steadily watching our site rise in the Technorati Top 100 list. That list was a popular “ranking” of blogs, primarily based on how many other sites were linking to them. We started to get noticed, quite a bit, and took on more co-authors.

When we broke into the top ten (wtf!!!), things started to get a bit nuts. Our blog now had more incoming links than Coca-Cola, Ford, and Target…combined. CNN started to cover the “blogosphere” in segments and our logo was one of those that flashed across the screen. Someone started shadowing us for a documentary. I got to interview a popular author whose work I had followed. We topped out, one week at least, at number 4. Crazytown.

And all the while, our comment section was going insane, and we made the dumb mistake of reading and responding to many of the flamewars there. I found myself spending far too much of my day (often during work) writing about things that made me far too mad. We never monetized the site (ads? no way, fuck that!), and hosting costs were growing and growing. I finally stepped away, and my buddy eventually sold the site.

So, how did we manage to get so damn popular? Well, it wasn’t intentional. We were just two bloggers who wanted to write about issues we cared about. Just like so many other folks, who were also adopting WordPress as their platform. And that’s the reason.

See, my buddy had made a few free WordPress themes that became quite popular, and each of them contained a footer link to his own site…which was the site that we had turned into our blog. And that’s where so many of those incoming links came from. Not readers, but other bloggers who were using his themes. It was an unintentional strategy, but a successful one, at least in Technorati’s eyes. Either way, it was a close enough brush to fame to keep me forever satiated.

1. Ok, Staples was my first “legal” job. I had been working “under the table” as a dishwasher at my friend’s restaurant since age 14 before I applied to Staples when I was 16 (and legal to work in Arizona). I still miss the free Philly cheesesteaks, grilled cheeses, and western omelettes. ︎

The post What are 5 interesting things about you? appeared first on rscottjones.

The rules are simple. For the last 10 days of the year, post a photo on twitter related to the topic of the day. Tagging the tweet with #findyourpark #parkchat and #publiclands will help others find your posts easier. Be sure to tag @naturetechfam in the tweet as well.

Here are the topics:

• Day 1 – Dec. 22: Top Family/Friends Moment
• Day 2 – Dec. 23: Top Wildlife or Animal Encounter
• Day 3 – Dec. 24: Top “Took My Breath Away” Moment
• Day 4 – Dec. 25: Top Moment On “Holiday” (interpret as you will)
• Day 5 – Dec. 26: Top #BucketList Moment
• Day 6 – Dec. 27: Top Extreme Moment (temp, location, ability, etc.)
• Day 7 – Dec. 28: Top Most Peaceful Moment
• Day 8 – Dec. 29: Top Water/Cave/Unique Feature Moment
• Day 9 – Dec. 30: Top Landscape Moment
• Day 10: Dec. 31: Your Ultimate #PublicLands Moment of 2018

I’m posting each of my submissions here, in addition to twitter.

Day 1 Top Family/Friends Moment:
Roadtrip to Utah with my Dad

My dad and I hadn’t taken a trip together in a very long time—about 16 years, if I recall correctly. This seemed like a great year to change that. So I took him and his girlfriend Carol to a state they knew little about: Utah.

We managed to fit in quite a few stops, showing them the big popular sites like Arches, Canyonlands, and Dead Horse Point, plus lesser known spots like Montezuma Canyon, Muley Point, and Coal Mine Canyon. Here’s the full itinerary

They were simply astounded at the landscapes and the archaeology we saw. They had no idea places like that existed, and certainly not within driving distance of Phoenix. It was a really special opportunity to spend some time with my dad.

Here’s the list of places we visited:

• Sand Island petroglyphs
• Montezuma Canyon ruins & rock art sites
• Newspaper Rock SHP
• Arches National Park
• Canyonlands National Park
• Dead Horse Point State Park
• Rock art sites around Moab
• Edge of the Cedars State Park
• Natural Bridges National Monument
• Bears Ears National Monument
• Moki Dugway & Muley Point
• Valley of the Gods
• Goosenecks State Park
• Coal Mine Canyon

Day 2 Top Wildlife Encounter:
Snorkeling with Manatees in Florida

For some reason, swimming with manatees has always been on my wildlife bucket list, so I had a blast—in spite of the nasty cold I had picked up. If you’re ever in the Crystal Springs region of Florida, I definitely recommend a quick trip out to snorkel with manatees, even if it is a bit touristy.

Day 3 Top “Took My Breath Away” moment: Denali, The Great One

My top “take my breath” moment was earlier this summer in Denali. We had heard so much about how rare it was to get a clear view of the mountain, and our visit to Denali State Park the evening before our shuttle dampened our already low expectations.

But the next day, we were treated to nearly an entire day’s worth of clear views. There wasn’t just one moment of the mountain that left you speechless—we were fortunate enough to get many.

One of those moments that stood out, however, was late in the day when this family, enjoying a paddle across the lake right as we passed by. It’s almost like I had photoshopped them in.

Day 4 – Top “holiday” moment: Finishing our US Territories quest during our Anniversary trip

My top “holiday” moment this year was 3 weeks ago when Jen & I finished our quest to visit all 50 states and all 5 major US territories.

It was our 1st “big” trip for our anniversary—which I consider my favorite holiday! Previously, we had always taken our larger “holiday” trip between Christmas and New Years, and instead done a shorter, less desirable road trip for our anniversary. This year, we decided that to make sure that the anniversary got top billing, and I’m really glad we did.

This is also the biggest travel quest I’ve completed to date, though the National Parks quest will jump to the top when I complete it this coming summer.

Day 5 Top #Bucketlist moment: Calving Glaciers in Kenai Fjords NP

One of my top #bucketlist moments of 2018 was definitely witnessing glaciers calving into the sea in Kenai Fjords this summer. This has long been a life travel goal for me, so it was pretty great to finally experience it—even though we were so cold standing out on the boat in the rain and wind to watch it.

Day 6 – Top Extreme Moment: Landing a bush plane between 3 wildfires in Yukon-Charley Rivers National Preserve

Smoke filled every valley as our bush plane neared the landing strip at Coal Creek in Yukon-Charley Rivers National Preserve, the result of three active wildfires forming a triangle around our destination. It didn’t look good for landing in this national park unit.

But our pilot impulsively pushed forward, breaking through the layer of smoke, and landed alongside firefighting helicopters and other equipment. We hopped out, took some quick photos, and beelined it for the historic mining camp a mile up the valley. We only had an hour on the ground. The camp had been commandeered by the interagency fire crew attempting to preserve park buildings from the fire, but it was also the site of passport stamps. And given our time crunch, it would be the only historic buildings we’d get to see here.

We wandered into a cabin, which was serving as the office for the fire crew.

“Who are you, and where did you come from?” one of them asked us, stunned that any tourists had shown up. Apparently, even their own fire crew pilots had refused to land that day.

We explained our national parks quest and why we had arrived amidst active wildfires. Impressed with our dedication, someone located the park stamps and we chatted a bit about our trip. When they found out that we didn’t have time to hike the 8-mile roundtrip to Slaven’s Roadhouse and to see the Yukon River, the incident commander piped up.

“You can’t get this close and not see it. I’ll drive you down there right now, and get you back in time,” she said.

It was an offer that we couldn’t refuse. She delegated wildfire responsibilities to two of the other staff members, and we quickly jumped in her side-by-side. Barreling down the rough gravel road, we passed the dredge and made it to the river. We explored the roadhouse—and collected another park stamp—before turning around and returning to the landing strip.

We took off without incident, but halfway through our flight back to Fairbanks, we encountered a gnarly storm. It was a rather tense hour as the pilot attempted to find a way around the worst of it, finally settling on a long circuitous route over some mountains and up a river valley. No one said a word until we landed.

As the pilot turned off the engine—his nervous wife already waiting for him on the tarmac—he let out a big sigh of relief and broke the silence.

“Well, I bet you are all happy to be back on the ground.”

Yes…
Yes, we were.

Day 7 – Top most peaceful moment: The backroads of the North Rim

My most peaceful moments on public lands this year happened here, along the backroads of the Kaibab National Forest at the edge of the Grand Canyon—far from the crowds on the South Rim. Getting off the beaten path may take some additional time and effort, but it’s usually well worth it.

Day 8 – Top water/cave/unique feature moment: Swimming Across Samoa

My top “water/cave/unique feature” moment of the year comes from our all-day swimming tour across Samoa—which included swims at secluded waterfalls, half submerged caves, ocean trenches, & coral reefs. Lots of photos at the link above!

Day 9 – Top Landscape Moment: the National Parks of the Western Arctic

I’ve spent many days out exploring our national parks and public lands, but it’s hard to top the day I spent exploring the National Parks of the Western Arctic by bush plane. Staggeringly large and desolate, there’s no better way to tour these places than from the air. And while it was the most expensive flight I’ve ever booked, it was completely worth the unforgettable experience.

Day 10 – My Ultimate #PublicLands Moment of 2018: ALL of them!

As always—there’s simply no way to choose from the amazing adventures I enjoyed on our public lands this year.

Each is special and I treasure them all.

The post My Submissions for the 2018 #FindYourPark Photo Challenge appeared first on rscottjones.