Читать книгу Shaped by Snow. Defending the Future of Winter онлайн

16 страница из 81

Hanging valleys, where a tributary glacier met the main glacier, bookmark the south side of the canyon. Waterfalls and creeks cascade from the lips of the hanging valleys until they meet Little Cottonwood Creek. The hiking trails leading up to those valleys are some of my favorite in the Wasatch. They curve around the canyon walls, weaving in and out of groves of aspen, keeping to the shadows of pines as they gain elevation. Many of them have creek crossings, where the temperature drops and the moisture in the air becomes tangible. Further up the valleys are cerulean lakes, and above those peaks, arêtes and cirques where glaciers cut jagged ridgelines into bedrock. These lakes and peaks are usually the destinations for hikers, but I don’t care if I make it to them. I desire the coolness of the creeks.

I pull into a trailhead parking lot and step out of my car, breathing in the scent of rock and pine. On weekends, cars can overflow these small lots and line the canyon road, adding what appears to be a layer of shining, metallic scales along the black serpent of pavement. Today, however, I have the parking lot to myself. I begin gathering what I’ll need for this hike—water bottle, notebook, protein bar. My hand hovers over a patterned rain jacket. Do I really have to bring it this time?