Yesterdays NY Times article, ‘Ah, Wilderness’ has created a buzz on Facebook this morning among outdoor enthusiasts. The author questions the management decisions of U.S. Forest Service administrators to continue to refuse to add signage in certain wilderness areas, even after hikers and skiers have died from getting lost. It’s a dilemma that all of us who love wilderness have to confront at some point as we pursue our passion. We know and accept that if we venture to go there, into the wild unknown, we’re on our own. Those of us who live this lifestyle have accepted and live with the risks – because we can’t live without them.

But what about the less experienced traveler who wants to experience the wilderness, but isn’t qualified to do it on their own? In my opinion, these are the good folks the well-meaning author of the NY Times article had in mind. And I agree with him that these are the people who can benefit by finding an expert guide to take them there and show them the ropes of staying safe in the wilderness. The U.S. government issues and regulates commercial permits to the most qualified guides. The newbie explorer can  experience all the wonders and solitude of the outdoors under the sound instruction of someone who is passionate about teaching the skills and sharing the lifestyle.

Sol Fitness Adventures guides explorations that connect travelers with the outdoors. Sol’s guides are wildlife biologists, adventure racers and personal fitness trainers by trade; but above all else, we are lovers of wilderness and life, passionate about lending our expertise to assure that our guests have the experience of a lifetime. If you’re thinking about an adventure trip to Machu Picchu, Peru, backpacking Utah’s redrock desert, or vacationing near Park City, Utah, do it with Sol. And if you want to explore the Zion area’s backcountry safely, we’re the only one’s permitted by the U.S. Federal government to take you there. Call us to plan your trip today!

Where is your next EPIC adventure? Even more important, how do you prepare physically and mentally? Tap into your competitive edge with Melanie Webb’s outdoor fitness adventure coaching. Now preparing clients for Mt. Kilimanjaro, The Playa, and NYC (New York City!?)

How often have you met someone who signed up for an incredible outdoor adventure trip thinking they would have plenty of time to train and prepare? Before they know it, the trip is 4 weeks away, life has gotten busy, and they aren’t ready. There are two choices at this point – 1. Go anyway and hope for the best; or 2. Blitzkrieg the sport-specific training and find an expert to coach you along the way.

This is the kind of fitness training that gets the outdoor adventure guide/personal trainer/gear head in me so excited that my energy overflows as I coach my clients toward their fitness goals. To summit a mountain, spend a week in the desert, or be on your game in the Big Apple requires much more than simply ‘showing up.’ As your fitness adventure coach, I will help you develop a strategic plan, research the physical demands of the destination, select the right outdoor equipment, and prepare you mentally and physically for the challenges ahead. Preparation becomes part of the experience, the trip itself is the climax, one which will exceed your expectations because you invested the time and energy to achieve it.

So plan that adventure trip! Live the life. Tap into your fullest potential. Accomplish your fitness goals with Melanie Webb of Sol Fitness Adventures.

Because fitness is more than a gym workout – it’s a way of life!

Alright, I try not to brag about my awesome outdoor adventure lifestyle. But the entire point of being a Santa Barbara personal trainer and this blog is to share my passion for fitness and the outdoors. How can I possibly not share spring skiing at Mammoth ski resort, just at the risk of appearing spoiled rotten?

Anyone would consider snowboarding fantastic snow conditions on May 20th pretty great. But how many times does one get to fly in a private plane, snowboard a full day at Mammoth ski resort in California’s Eastern Sierra’s, and return the same day to America’s Riviera, Santa Barbara, California?

Maybe some of you are more spoiled than I am and get to do this all the time. But for this ex snowboard bum, life doesn’t get much better!

This was a rough week for Zion National Park, where three deaths were reported in one week: a lone hiker fell while hiking Angel’s Landing and two men drown while attempting to float the icy cold and fast flowing Virgin River on a man-made log raft without PFD’s.

An early Utah pioneer named Isaac Behunin wrote about Zion, “Man can come closer to God within the walls of this canyon than in any man-made temple.” While I am very sad for the tragic deaths of these three modern explorers, the manner in which they died causes me to think that perhaps they got to go as any of us who love Zion NP would want to – doing what we love.

May they rest in peace. And may the U.S. Park Service keep wild places just that – WILD.

Salt Lake Tribune

“Why do they call it Fat Man’s?” you ask. This shot of Frank and Carolyn downclimbing their way through one of the many slots in Fat Man’s repertoire should clue you in. Visitors to Zion National Park ready to get off the beaten path and explore the backcountry have world-class canyoneering options to choose from. The beauty of Fat Man’s (or the misery, depending on your fitness level)is its hidden location – four miles behind Checkerboard Mesa and the strenuous six mile hike out of the canyon.

Our group of seven backpacked with wetsuits in tow, prepared for a swim in the cold, dark, murky water that pools up in the deep slot after canyon monsoons. Slots are formed by water, after all, and while our biggest concern was beating afternoon rainstorms and the deadly flashfloods that follow, shady canyons and freezing water temps can be a deadly combination. Luckily there were no swimming pools in the canyon and the wetsuits quickly turned into our own personal dry sauna in the desert heat. Being the lean desert explorers that we are (ha!), we stripped those clinging sweat suits off before what little insulating fat we had on our bodies could be melted away.

Aside from all the fun and challenging descents, my favorite part was the exit into beautiful The Barracks. The Virgin River was flowing cool and refreshing with mint patches growing at the mouth of Fat Man’s. Aaron, our herbalist guru, harvested some of the healing herb and brewed a delicious tea for dinner.

With four rappels and dozens of downclimbs, Fat Man’s isn’t for the meek. Get yourself a guide, an experienced friend, a guidebook and topo map before you head out.

Summer’s over, and went out in such EPIC style that I can honestly say with the enthusiasm of a school girl “it was the best summer I ever had!” I spent my last month of summer in Zion National Park, having so many adventures that I utterly refused to blog. Who wants to sit at the computer with so many world class slot canyons to explore?

Orderville, Pine Creek, Fat Man’s Misery, The Narrows, Yankee Doodle, and Water Canyon – so many slot canyons, so little time! With the season drawing to a close – days get shorter, water temps in the dark canyons drop to hypo-thermic lows – it means time to move along and make plans for next season.

You adventurers ready to experience Zion canyoneering will want to join Sol’s guided overnight  Redrock Backpacker: Southwestern, Utah trips in 2010. This is a non-technical canyon, so you won’t need rope skills, but you’ll still get to venture into one of the most spectacular and secret slot canyons in Southern Utah. Check out video highlights here: Sol Fitness Adventures: Redrock Backpacker, Southwest Utah

Slot Canyon Stupidity

“That thing which makes you great also makes you an asshole,” Greg, one of my favorite Zion canyoneering guides told me, “and all of us guides fall into that category.” He was 100% accurate in his assessment of me. I had nothing to blame but my own arrogance for getting caught in a slot canyon thunderstorm last week.

I hiked The Subway, one of the most popular Zion canyoneering canyons. Alone and without a rappel partner to help with the more technical upstream obstacles, I decided to hike up from the bottom, a 10-mile round trip easy route. I did my due diligence: told two people my game plan, set up my SPOT satellite tracker, picked up my permit from the backcountry office, and checked the weather reports (the  zero percent chance of rain the night before changed to 20% the next morning – not enough to cancel my hike).

I set out under clear blue skies and 100 degree temps (but it’s a dry heat, we Westerners say), jumped in deep swim holes to cool off when I got too hot. It was around mile four that dark clouds accumulated overhead. I recognized these clouds and knew it meant rain, I just wasn’t sure how soon.

I passed a family of five on their way down and asked them how much farther I had to go before I reached the actual Subway. They said I was close. “Good,” I said, “because it’s going to rain and I’m not sure how much time I have.”

“It’s not going to rain today,” the mother said as she sat chewing her granola bar. The dark clouds were overhead now.

“See those clouds?” I said, pointing overhead. “It’s going to rain alright, it’s just a question of when.” Fools, I thought to myself as I continued upstream, picking up my pace.

I reached the curving tunnel of the subway with it’s deep pools and trickling falls just as a strong wind blew down the canyon. I detected the unmistakable scent of rain. Just then a large clap of thunder echoed off the canyon walls. My heart immediately began to pound and I felt my muscles tense. I turned around and was running full speed through the tunnel within a milli-second. I made my way through the stream and up a sandy bank when another clap of thunder began, followed by another… and another; a sound that would continue for the next 30 minutes.

The smell of rain soon turned into a downpour, turning the sandy ground into a muddy slick within minutes. I kept running through the willows, trying to get as far downstream and out of the narrow canyon as possible. I carefully crossed the stream where I had to and hit the solid ground sprinting until I finally tripped over some exposed roots and fell to my stomach on the ground. It was a good wake up call. I was panicking, and if a flash flood didn’t kill me, that surely would.

I picked myself up and scrambled to a high bank nestled under the safety of an enormous overhanging wall. I drank some water and took a few deep breaths. I could safely spend the night here if I had to, if the water came up and trapped me. I still had more than 4 miles to go to reach the exit route to high ground. Who’s the fool now? I thought to myself.

People often ask if I talk to myself when I’m out there by myself. The answer is yes. Yes I do. Especially when I think I’m going to die. And the truth is, in an instance like this, I wouldn’t want anyone else’s input. I wouldn’t want to deal with the responsibility of worrying about them or having to calm their fears, or even worse, having them sit down and cry on me. Like I said, Greg was right about me, “that thing which makes you great…”

I was out of breath, getting hungry, and in no mood to spend the night in the canyon. I mixed a high calorie energy drink, took a few bites of a granola bar, and continued down the slippery slope to the creek. I was still running, but knew I had to pace myself if I was going to make it.

Somewhere under that controlled panic I came to terms with my condition. I was going to die. I was going to die, and you know what? I was cool with that. My pleading prayers turned to prayers of gratitude, and life never had more meaning.

Suddenly I was dialed-in. I became acutely aware of the cold rain drops hitting my skin. The smell of sagebrush in the rain – one of the most beautiful scents known to man. The course feel of the slippery, wet mud under my hands as I clawed my way up a steep bank. I could hear the sound of every heartbeat and knew exactly how to pace myself to keep from fatiguing too soon. Hundreds of juvenile toads jumped in every direction to avoid my crushing feet. “Southwestern toads,” I thought, not able to escape my training as a wildlife biologist, even now.

The four miles that took me three hours to hike up took me 45 minutes to run down. I made it to the exit route, found a nice high spot to sit, and waited for the family I had passed on my way down to make it out (that thing which makes you great…). I filled my bottles with water while the river was still clear and stretched as I felt the adrenaline rush wear off and the fatigue begin to set in.

Funny how it had stopped raining now. Nearly an hour past before the family caught up. I made sure they saw the cairns marking the exit route and began my half-mile ascent up the steep hill to my car. I looked back after a few minutes to see that the clear creek had turned to a dark chocolate churn and come up by two feet in the widest part of the canyon.

The no-brainer lesson learned reinforced my routine plan to turn clients around at the first sight of dark clouds. On my own and arrogant, I challenged mother nature. You just don’t do that without a stern reminder of your place in the world. At least future clients and friends will benefit from my moment of being an asshole.

But, even more valuable to me were those precious moments of clarity, when, in the face of fear and death, I came to terms with my mortality. I ran with the river gods, and spoke with Pacha Mama and God himself. And I wouldn’t trade those moments for anything, because “that which makes you great…” is born from moments like these.

My move from D.C. back out west required a huge amount of logistical planning. I’d decided to trade the cumbersome UHaul for the freedom of my VW, which meant downsizing and shipping all of my belongings before I hit the road. Then there was the cross-country road trip itself. I knew that as a single woman it was safer to stay in hotels than camp. Besides, I didn’t want the hassle of tangling with the gear.

Most people hire movers for this type of transition. Not me, I’m from Utah, state of the industrious do-it-yourselfers. Luckily, I had not one, but FIVE wingmen to help me get it right. These mavens filled critical roles, saving me time and energy. I want to give props to my wingmen and highly recommend you line up yours before beginning your next EPIC road trip.

The Organizer. My BFF and fellow adventure sidekick Amie has moved across the country twice and knows how to use every inch of available space. I was frantically trying to mop the floors and move out when the parents of the new tenant arrived ahead of schedule to hang curtain rods and complain about their daughter’s poor choice in location (just tell her not to walk outside by herself late at night and early in the morning and she’ll be fine, I assured her). Amie unexpectedly showed up on my doorstep just as I was about to lose my mind and proceeded to direct the loading process. Who knows what I would have left behind if not for Amie’s sound mind.

The Muscle Man. Bobby, D.C.-local-turned-wilderness-lover who twice suffered loading my car and driving to the shippers 30 minutes away in McLean, VA. I had decided that if I had to face the wrath of D.C. postal service workers even once more I would be the one going postal.

The Air Traffic Controller. Bob Nash. This computer guru is so good at what he does that I have to include both names. Bob would use my SPOT GPS Tracker to look up my location on Google Maps, estimate my ETA at the next largest city, and text me the phone numbers of hotels that still had availability. I could rest assured knowing Bob was at the computer.

The Nurturer. Cathy, who single-handedly made sure I had enough gourmet crackers, tuna, AND chocolate to get me across the country and beyond. There is no threat of going hungry with a nurturer like Cathy in the wings. In fact, there was so much food that I was eating it in Peru, during the 10-hour drive to California, and on the Pacific Coast Highway!

The Worry Wart. My mother, of course! No need to worry with a mother like mine, who sent me a GPS navigation system especially for the occasion and called several times a day to make sure I hadn’t gone off the road and gotten stranded. Thanks MOM!

I’ve been having so much fun road-tripping around the world that I haven’t sat still long enough to blog about it! It looks like I’m back in the real world though. Time to try my hand in the blogosphere again.

I just returned from my Machu Picchu backpacking trip in the Peruvian Andes. I have to give the trail props, it was almost as difficult as it was breathtakingly beautiful. The trail had two 14,000 passes that turned my sea level lungs anaerobic in no time. I found the challenge exhilarating, the clean air refreshing, and my peers supportive, like teammates.

Sol Fitness Adventures Inca Trail Trek: Machu Picchu, Peru was a trip that tested everyone in different ways. Altitude proved to be the outward catalyst that released inward true colors. Some individuals caved to the mental psyche-out and never ventured to accomplish what they’d come to do. Others broke through mental barriers and fears, persevered in spite of splitting headaches and gut-wrenching nausea, or overcame real physical obstacles such as macular degeneration without uttering a complaint.

The true test of the trip for me didn’t seem to be as much physical as it was mental. Weeks before the trip I left my home of 6.5 years and quit my job at the fitness studio to start over in the west. Exactly where in the west I do not know. Anywhere the sun shines, I can work hard, and play even harder.

I arrived in Cusco with a lot on my mind. But I didn’t want to waste my thoughts projecting into the future. I determined to start each day with a healing visualization and set an intention with the help of Chaitanya, my yoga shaman, that I remain open to the goodness that Pacha Mama (Mother Earth) and Peru had to offer. The combination worked (being an eternal optimist helps). My mind was open and I found myself utterly present, not only during those 14,000 foot passes, but for the entirety of the trip. Thank you Pacha Mama!

Click for pictures of Sol’s 2009 Machu Picchu backpacking trip.

Day 1 of Sol Fitness Adventures Inca Trail Trek: Machu Picchu, Peru was a humbling experience, and not for the reasons you’d expect. Sure, starting a hike at 9,300 ft is a little challenging – the air is thin up here. But I had prepared diligently for the hike, so today’s four hours of hiking wasn’t that hard.

I was humbled by the Quechuan porters, the lifeblood of every tourist on Inca Trail guided tours. Jaws dropped and cameras flashed as we caught our first glimpse of the troupes of porters at the bottom of the trail. The porters climbed at a bustling pace, sprinting past us on even the steepest uphill sections. Their precariously balanced loads bore closer resemblance to the overloaded truck on The Beverly Hillbilly’s than our modern day backpacks. Black rubber open-toed sandals revealed bruised toes bandaged with plastic wrap while we enjoyed the comfort of our technical hiking shoes and $16 sweat-wicking socks.

In an effort to provide jobs and stimulate economic development, the Peruvian government requires anyone hiking the Inca Trail to hire a Peruvian guide and porter. The porters belong to a union that assures that they receive fair wages and are not abused on the trail. Porters place their heavy loads on a scale and are not allowed to carry an ounce over 40 kilos. Local farmers who guide to earn additional wages to support their family, these porters spared us ‘gringos’ the agony of carrying all of our own gear for four days.

I was pleasantly surprised to receive my own personal basin of warm water hand-delivered to my tent each morning and evening, complimented by a hot coca tea or a cold chichi moran punch. All this with welcoming smiles and a genuine graciousness I’ve rarely encountered.

So while I could spend this first blog talking about the spectacular scenery of the Andes Mountains, the site of my first Inca ruin, or how my training regimen prepared me for the hike, it is the porters who deserve my first and highest acknowledgement and praise. I thank them for taking such good care of us.

Click to view more pictures of Sol Fitness Adventures Inca Trail guided tours.