Cutting through the morning fog 🚤🌫🎣

Evan Stewart

Stumbled upon this pic I took last year… setting up the stage for a virtual event. Crazy how quickly things shifted in 2020.

Had a chance this summer to visit the Apache Death Cave in Arizona. The cave was haunting… according to Atlas Obscura:

“In 1878, a group of Apache raiders attacked a Navajo encampment near the Little Colorado river. Almost every Navajo man, woman, and child was killed in the raid. When the Apache finished looting the encampment, only three girls remained and they were swiftly taken prisoner by the Apache.

When the Navajo leaders got word of this attack, they sent out a team of 25 men to avenge the fallen encampment. They tracked the Apache across the land and blocked the borders to the region. However their efforts failed and the trails went cold, disappearing into the river and volcanic cinder.

News arrived that another nearby Navajo encampment had been raided, which meant that the Apache were still in the area. Scouts were deployed again, two of whom were sent to check the short arm of Canyon Diablo. The scouts had found nothing until they were startled by a blast of hot air from underground. Upon further investigation, the scouts discovered that the hot air was coming from an Apache campfire in an underground cavern beneath them, large enough to house both the Apache raiding party and their horses.

The scouts returned with news of their discovery, and the Navajo came back with a vengeance. After killing two watchmen, they gathered up the dry sagebrush and driftwood on the canyon floor and started a fire at the entrance of the cave. Now aware of the attack as smoke billowed into their hideaway, the Apache slit the throats of their horses and used what was left of their water to put out the flames, doing their best to seal off the entrance with corpses of their former mounts.

A lone Apache man escaped from the fiery barrier and begged for mercy. The Navajo proposed the customary payment of goods and stock in exchange for forgiveness, and the Apache man agreed. However, when the Navajo asked about the three girls who had been captured, the Apache spokesman hesitated, confirming the Navajos’ worst fears: The girls had already met their end.

Enraged, the Navajo shot into the cave and added more fuel to the fire. Smoke and the sound of the Apache singing death songs filled the air. When the songs faded and the smoke cleared, the Navajo broke through the charred barrier of horse corpses. They retrieved their goods, and stripped off the valuables of the 42 Apaches who had suffocated inside of the cave.

From that point on, it is said that no Apache has used that cave for any reason. Local tribes warned would-be pioneers about the cave, saying that the land around it was cursed, but settlers often passed off the stories as silly superstition. The pioneers who lived there would later report hearing disembodied groans and ghostly footsteps outside their cabins, the horrendous stories of the massacre at the cave finally burrowing their way into their imaginations.”

Happy October 1st! What are you most looking forward to this month? 👻🎃🍬

Getting through those final summer days, where everything shifts into soft shades of green—right before exploding into color.

Fall is in 9 days… but who is counting? 🎃🍂

You never know the odd places you’ll stumble into on a road trip 🚗 

Summer evenings in the forest 🌲🌳🪵

Who’s up for an evening dip in a nearly freezing stream? 🥶

My brother climbing with the beautiful San Juans in the distance. Definitely going to miss my mountains as we head back to Texas!

You can never have enough firewood 🪵🔥🏕

Catching those golden morning rays ☀️

Summer evenings by the campfire are the best way to spend your time. 🏕

“If our father had had his say, nobody who did not know how to fish would be allowed to disgrace a fish by catching him.” —Norman Maclean

Floating on emerald waters just over 9,000 ft. in elevation, I happened to notice a single streak of light pierce through an emerging storm. Realizing this moment was more important than my bobbing fishing rod, I grabbed my camera and captured this shot.

A simple reminder in my opinion, of the incredible glory and opulence of God’s creation.

My brother and I discovered climbing years ago, and fell in love. As our passion for outdoor adventure grew, so did our dedication to improve our craft and eventually pioneer our own routes in the remote Rocky Mountains (in addition to completing other sends on routes constructed by others).

Last week, we returned to our favorite spot; an obscure crag, known to locals and sport climbing loyalists as one of the premier summer climbing destinations in the United States. As usual, we were not disappointed.

The San Juan mountains are the Swiss Alps of the United States. Rugged, rocky, remote, and breathtakingly gorgeous. It was exhilarating to watch dawn break through Blue hour and light the mountain peaks in a hazy glow.

If life is worth living, it’s worth living well.

The other day I decided to have a little R&R after this week’s fourteener push. My break consisted of stripping down and diving into a rushing stream of nearly-freezing snow-melt water . . . it’s just as cold as you could imagine, but an exhilarating experience.

Warming up after my impromptu swim with a fire built from pine trees, that made the world smell faintly of Christmas.

All in all, a good day. 🏕