10 Best Photos From #THEROOLIFE In The Last Month!

Kammok team member Lawton Cook writes about his first trip out to West Texas and why he can't help but go back for more. •     •     • "Finally, I wish to offer my opinion, just as a private visitor, that although the old saying that 'he who travels must be prepared to take away only as much as he brings with him' applies to all our great parks, it holds true especially of Big Bend. It is a desert-mountain country whose qualities offer an allurement, a satisfaction of soul, only if the visitor will put himself in the right mood, and will remain long enough to know it with some intimacy. He who drives in and drives out without letting the motor cool, may see, to be sure, some most interesting natural objects, but he will not know, and can never love, Big Bend." -Freeman Tilden, 1945 When you love a place so much, it can be hard to reduce every inch of it into a few words. I’ve visited Big Bend regularly over the last five years, but I’ve written very little about those experiences. Where do you start in describing a place that has such a commanding hold on you? The task feels akin to describing every inch of your best friend and lining out their deepest secrets, personality traits, and physical features down to the very last hair on their head. I want to tell you of the long afternoons paddling through stunning canyons, passing a bottle of sotol around a campfire as the Rio whispers in the night, walking dusty desert trails at sunset and continuing on after dusk, and waking to stunning views from high in the Chisos Mountains as the sun rises blood red over the Sierra del Carmen.  I’ll just tell it how I remember it, the way I saw it for the first time. A few months after my wife and I were married in Austin in 2016, we were still living with a wonderful carelessness afforded by our lack of responsibility. No dogs, no kids, no obligations. We decided around 8 p.m. on a Friday evening that nothing was stopping us from driving seven hours to Big Bend for the long weekend, so we packed our Honda Civic and pointed west. It didn’t take too long for the endorphins to wear off, and the quiet slog of I-10 rumbled me to a sleepy stupor. We made it to Ozona before crashing in a roadside motel and then woke fresh the next morning and made for Fort Stockton. South of the I-10 turnoff in Fort Stockton, the Glass Mountains erupted from the Chihuahuan Desert like nothing else I’d seen in Texas. We stopped the car on the side of the highway so we could take pictures of these sub-6,000 foot peaks. Plenty of folks from the Mountain West, where 14ers mark the landscape, would be unimpressed by these lowlying mountains, especially given their inaccessible location on private land behind barbed wire fences, but I was blown away that such a place existed in my home state. After spending a day in Alpine and Marfa, we finally rolled into the north entrance of the park well after dark and found a campsite at Rio Grande Village. The next morning we woke to the pale Chihuahuan Desert, everything dust covered and dry, begging for rain. We peered over the banks of the Rio to catch a first glimpse at the muddy river below, not knowing in just a few years time we’d be in those waters, pulling our paddles through the current as our canoes pushed forward into Boquillas Canyon. From above we could see a few locals from Boquillas del Carmen on the opposite side, lounging in the shade of the mesquites, waiting for their friend who was fording the river on a skinny horse to meet them. He’d placed an assortment of handmade desert trinkets on a rock for tourists to purchase—ocotillos, roadrunners, and other desert plants made from twisted wire and brightly colored beads—with an empty pickle jar as an honor system cash register. This was my first time to see our southern border, and the peacefulness of the place, the quiet hush of the river below the sun-baked desert, subverted all other notions I had about this controversial line in the sand.  When you live in a place all of your life, you get the feeling you know everything there is to know about it. But when you call a place as big as Texas home, you’ll soon find out driving across it that there’s much of it you’ve never seen—much of it you’ll likely never see. Not only that, but with opinions as big as the state itself, you also bring with you certain ideas and biases that don’t really bear out in truth. Like the idea that West Texas is all flat and brown, that mountains are far from home, and that the border is a place to fear. During that first visit to Big Bend, all my ideas about Texas were turned upside down. I kept asking aloud how no one had ever told me this place existed. How had I never, in all my 26 years in Texas, visited what I now believe to be the most exceptionally beautiful part of our state? It was a feeling of both incredible gratitude for being in the place and almost irritation for having not seen it sooner. Those feelings were only amplified by my first drive into the Chisos. Amanda and I drove towards the basin and watched as candelilla and ocotillo gave way to blooming sotol plants, and as we rose, to vibrant junipers and pinyon pines. The mountains glowed all around, crags of rock that seemed to belong somewhere else.  The view of the mountains from the road were enchanting—guaranteeing I would be coming back year after year. We snagged a campsite in the Chisos Basin campground, not knowing just how incredibly lucky we were to nab an open spot, and hiked the always classic Window Trail for the very first time. It seems like we stretched that hike into hours, stopping often to examine a plant we’d never seen before or take a picture of a new view. The Window itself was mind blowing, and although it's one of the more touristy places on the map, it remains one of my favorite trails in the park. I mean, how could it not? That evening we shared our campsite with a couple who rolled in late without a reservation. They had a charcoal grill with them, almost like a fire pit, and we were grateful to have a warm blaze to sit around in the cool mountain air. We got to know each other over too much whiskey, and then retreated to our tents for one last view of the brightest stars I’d ever seen in my life. We wanted to do one last hike before making the drive back, but of course we woke late the next morning and didn’t have our campsite packed up until noon. A ranger at the visitor center mentioned Emory Peak when we went looking for advice, adding “But you really should have started earlier in the day. It’s about a six to eight hour hike, and it’ll be pretty hot. Bring plenty of water if you decide to go.”  I tried to persuade Amanda to do anything else, but her heart was set on climbing Emory Peak. Even if we absolutely crushed the hike, we were still looking at a seven hour drive on the other side with work the next day in Austin. When I told her we couldn’t do the hike she put on the most pitiful face of disappointment. In the end we continued the “what the hell” theme we started the trip with. Sure, we can drive to Big Bend in the middle of the night. If we can do that, surely we can knock out this awesome hike and make it back home at 3am. I’ll admit that I agreed to the plan pretty begrudgingly, but usually when Amanda drags me into something, it turns out to be pretty memorable.  The hike up Emory Peak and back  is about ten miles. The park ranger told us to carry about a gallon of water each for the elevation gain and heat exposure, and I looked at our two Nalgenes with a feeling of complete inadequacy. Call it ingenuity or total noob move, but I bought a 2.5 gallon jug of water from the convenience store—the kind of jug with the spigot on one end and the handle on top—and strapped it to my Topo Designs Rover Pack for the long hike up. I don’t think Topo Designs would mind me saying this considering their pack was not designed to awkwardly carry a huge jug of water, but that was the most uncomfortable backpack I’d ever slung over my shoulders. It was like being in fourth grade again carrying a Jansport backpack crammed with every single text book, notebook, and pencil. Needless to say we invested in more appropriate gear after this adventure. We made it to the top of Emory Peak on wobbly, unseasoned legs, but we made it nonetheless. At the end of the trail, we scrambled nervously up the small rock face to the summit and touched the survey marker like we were crossing a finish line. I didn’t know it at the time, but from the top of the Chisos Mountains, we were looking at Elephant Tusk down below across the Dodson Trail and Santa Elena Canyon beyond. To the southeast, the Sierra del Carmen range stood watching over Boquillas just across the Rio Grande, and to the north, Santiago Peak emerged among smaller mountains, pointing the way home. On that day five years ago I looked out at a place completely foreign to me, nameless in every way. A 360 degree view of a Texas I didn’t recognize, but one I couldn’t wait to get to know.  Five years later, I’m still no expert on Big Bend by any stretch. And in some ways, I enjoy that. I’ve been back for several paddle trips on the Rio and some hikes in the Chisos, and I still haven’t even scratched the surface of what this place offers. That means every time I go I get to put my boots in a new patch of dirt, learn something new, and be completely mystified. But I think if you asked someone who’d been going to Big Bend for a lifetime, they’d probably tell you they feel the same way. Our Palette of the Bend print draws colors from South Rim views high in the Chisos where the first light of day paints Big Bend with such brilliant shades that you wish the sun would stop so you could take it all in just a little bit longer. Beyond that though, this print represents our inability to capture just how grand this place is, from the resilient desert to the mighty canyons and all the way to the top of Texas’s most glorious mountain range. It’s a place worth taking your time in—a landscape that demands your attention with all its wonder, causing you to sit in silence and disbelief. It’s a feeling worth leaning into. And every time you go back, hopefully you’ll be just as amazed by this place as you were on your very first visit. Amanda and I hit the parking lot with exhausted legs and aching feet after a speedy hike down the Pinnacles Trail. We sank into our Honda Civic, kicking our shoes off on the floorboard and peeling off sweat soaked socks revealing ankles caked in trail dust. The sun set just as we passed the Persimmon Gap park entrance, and we felt pleasantly exhausted, proud of the adventure we’d chosen. We ate burgers in the Fort Stockton Dairy Queen before refueling with gas and heading east on I-10 for the long drive back, and we made it to our apartment in Austin at about 3am, ready to fall fast asleep after a job well done. Our first Big Bend trip was over, but we’d be back. I’ll leave you with this quote from Freeman Tilden, who describes my feelings of Big Bend so beautifully and succinctly: “Big Bend Park is the untamed, aloof, but never-ugly desert, with a whimsical river for deckle edge. Some folks say they do not like the desert. I wonder if they remained long enough to know? To me, the hours just before and after sunset, in this desert, in the shadow of the Sierra del Camens, when they redden to a deep crimson, and then fade to violet, with a finality of black velvet—and the moon comes rising behind the Chisos, and cleanliness and vastness enwrap everything—to me this is one of life’s moving experiences. Nobody really knows the desert who has not felt, seen, and surrendered himself to it, at dusk.”  It’s time to head out west.

Written by Dr. Felicia Wong.  Dr. Felicia Wong is a physician, outdoor enthusiast, and wellness blogger based in Southern California. Between her and her husband (also a physician)'s busy work schedules, raising two young sons, and running her popular Instagram account Everyday Adventure Fam and blog on adventure tips, she exemplifies what it means to live intentionally and joyfully with her family. The Wong family can be found hiking, biking, enjoying a day at the beach, or skiing in the nearby mountains on any given weekend. However, one of their favorite activities is camping. In this blog post, Dr. Felicia Wong shares ideas to help you celebrate National Camp At Home Day!   Our family loves to camp - at home, close to home, in state and national parks, or off grid.  We started glamping as a family 6 years ago, and have gradually worked our way from glamping to car camping, to boondocking and backpacking!   One of my favorite things to do, aside from planning our own camping trips, is to encourage more people to give camping a try.  National Camp at Home Day - March 27 - is a great time for new campers to do a practice run, and for seasoned campers to test out and inventory gear in preparation for the spring/ summer camping season!  To help you get ready for this fun weekend, we have come up with some ways to enhance your camp at home experience:   Turn off your electronics and set them aside. Consider turning off your wifi.  Unplug. If weather and space permits, consider camping outdoors on your patio or in your yard.  If you have one, get cozy around an outdoor firepit with some camp blankets!  If camping inside, you can create a nice camp ambience by moving some houseplants around your tent. If you have a fireplace, set up your Swiftlet hammock stand and hammock nearby.   Play “camp games” . Our kids love card games like War and Go Fish! When it gets dark out, turn off the lights and use your camp lanterns, flashlights, headlamps. Treat yourself to classic camp treats like s’mores and hot chocolate with mini marshmallows No campfire at home… No worries! Here are 3 methods to make S’mores at home!  S’mores on the Stovetop: If you have a gas stovetop, you can roast marshmallows just as you would over a campfire.  Put a marshmallow on a skewer and set the stovetop burner on low heat. Use care while slowly turning the marshmallow over the heat to your desired doneness. We recommend this method for adults, as it involves an open flame. S’mores in the Oven:  Start by preheating the oven to 400 degrees F.  Break the graham crackers into halves, and place half of them on a baking sheet. Top each graham cracker with chocolate, and then a marshmallow. Bake until the marshmallows are puffed and golden brown, about 3 to 5 minutes.  Top with the remaining graham cracker halves and press to flatten. If you prefer your marshmallows extra toasty, you can also use the broiler following the same steps, but will need to watch them very closely, because they can burn quickly. Serve immediately while the S’mores are still warm! S’mores in the microwave: Place chocolate and marshmallows on up to four graham cracker halves and put on a microwave-safe plate. Microwave on high for 15 to 20 seconds, or until the marshmallows puff. Top with the remaining graham cracker halves. Learn more about how to participate in this year's National Camp at Home Day here. Happy camping!

Our outdoor community is built upon adventure seekers. While sometimes this means spending time in harsh weather and challenging ourselves physically, other times it means having difficult conversations and changing our perspective. In this three-part series on The Outpost, we will share the stories of individuals redefining what it means to be outside. Written by Luisa Vargas.   As a first-generation immigrant from Colombia, I was lucky enough to have parents who taught me the value of spending time in nature. However, the first time a friend called me “outdoorsy” I thought it couldn’t be true. I didn’t look like anyone who shopped at REI. Growing up, I was an artistic kid, not an athletic one. I’m afraid of heights and I’m brown. Little did I know I was fed the same story as most people: That to identify as outdoorsy, you have to spend time outside doing physically draining activities like multi-day hiking trips, climbing up giant rocks or kayaking through rough waters. And that you’re white. It took years to finally consider myself an outdoor enthusiast. Looking back, I realize I was just as outdoorsy then as I am now, but I kept wondering why it took me so long to realize this.  To explore that question, I talked with three incredible adventurers who defy the mainstream standards of being outdoorsy. Over the next few weeks, I’ll be sharing their stories. The first story is from Rocío, a trail runner, social justice advocate, mentor and native Austinite. Although we barely scratch the surface, these are thirst-quenching conversations that reexamine how we ask questions about diversity in outdoor spaces. They share their journey of transformation in the outdoors and talk about how we can cultivate inclusive spaces that honor history and tradition. Rocío Villalobos at Caprock Canyon State Park When I first talked with Rocío Villalobos over Zoom, I instantly felt calming energy. As an avid trail runner, she spends a copious amount of time outside, but her true gift is blending her outdoor experiences with a commitment to social justice. She currently works in the city of Austin’s Equity Office as an Immigrant Affairs Coordinator and has experience working with various environmental and social justice organizations including PODER (People Organizing in Defense of the Earth and Her Resources).  Rocío shares that her great grandparents were indigenous people from tribes in what we now call Mexico. Reconnecting with the land and her ancestors is one of the many reasons she finds spending time outside so impactful. “My grandparents learned it was worth assimilating into this broader Mexican identity rather than holding onto their customs. For me, a part of going outside is reconnecting with the land and my ancestors,” Rocío says. As we explore the reasons why she values spending time outside, she describes how simply having the time to be in nature is a privilege. Growing up, Rocío wasn’t outside much.  Her parents worked long hours and were worried about allowing their kids to wander alone. It wasn’t until she was an adult and faced depression that she turned to running as one of her remedies.  “It made me feel confident and shifted some of the internal talk that I know was really negative,” Rocío says.  Rocío participating in a trail race  As Rocío continued finding joy in outdoor spaces while doing social justice work, the two began merging. She worked in various environmental organizations and began mentoring girls with Explore Austin where she finds an opportunity to connect with young women who are developing their own connection to the land.  Mentorship is a big part of Rocío's life. She’s continually sharing resources and adventure gear with people who want to spend more time outside, particularly women of color.  When I asked Rocío why we don’t see more women of color in traditional outdoor spaces despite the growing interest, her answer was transformative.  Rocío suggests that instead of asking why we don’t see certain groups outside, we should be asking if communities are already spending time outdoors in ways that don’t fit the mainstream idea of what we think as outdoor time. Spending time outside could be something as simple as preparing your soil for a garden or hanging in a hammock listening to the birds.  She describes the popular vision of the outdoors as, “Feeling like an almost hypermasculine idea,” where you have to do something physically draining.  According to Rocío, there is value in trying new, challenging things, but this doesn’t have to be the only way we enjoy the outdoors. The goal should be connecting to the land, and that’s going to look different for everyone. As we begin addressing inclusivity in these spaces, it’s important to remember we’re not here to force change upon people. Rocío says the bigger questions are, “What do our institutions look like? What have they done to create barriers or opportunities to get to spend time in certain places?” Addressing institutional change is an important part of racial equity work everywhere, not just in outdoor spaces. Many times institutions are out of touch with what is happening in their own communities and that becomes another layer of the problem.  She explains that social inequities are hundreds of years old and are going to take just as long to undo. “Find a balance of being grounded in reality but still holding onto that hope of transformation,” Rocío says. I believe Rocío excels at racial equity work and ultramarathons because both require preparation and endurance for a long and difficult path while still believing transformation is possible.  Redefining what it means to identify as an outdoorsy person will open doors for people to benefit from the transformative power of being outside, despite the restrictions placed by mainstream ideas.  Next time you catch yourself wishing you had more time to spend outside, remember that your backyard and your hammock are waiting. Here you can explore some ideas on spending more time outdoors. “How is this helping me develop a deeper relationship with the land? That’s what our goal should be.” -Rocío Villalobos Organizations Rocío has worked with: Austin Racial Equity Office PODER The University of Texas Multicultural Engagement Center Explore Austin Other organizations and companies supporting diversity in the outdoors: Black Outside Native Women’s Wilderness Tawa Threads  Latinos Outdoors

We've grown acquainted with the backyard (maybe a little too much) over the past few months. Every corner of the yard investigated, every blade of grass counted, and no stone left unturned. You’ve become the park ranger of your terrain. So, why not take this opportunity to learn a new skill – learn to hammock camp in the backyard.  Across any outdoor activity, it’s best practice to give your gear a test run before heading into the great outdoors. Imagine if you arrive at your campsite when it’s dark, raining, or right after a tiring drive, you’ll be frustrated as you attempt to rig your system for the first time. There is no better space like the backyard to master new skills and bring confidence for days ahead in the backcountry.  Whether you’re an avid tent camper wanting to give hammocks a go, or dipping your toes into camping for the first time, give yourself a test run in a familiar and safe environment. Plus, if it turns out hammock camping isn’t for you (we highly doubt it as the hammock people we are), your bedroom is just a few steps away. Let’s get started.   Backyard role call Before we talk about the not-so nitty-gritty details of hammocks, let’s talk about the anchor points where you will hang a hammock. Take inventory of your backyard for tall sturdy structures that can safely support your weight. You’re looking for a pair of live trees or sturdy posts about 12-15 feet apart. Since you're in your backyard, don't hesitate to take out the measuring tape to get a feel for the distance. If you don't have a pair of trees, you can also hang between two car racks or between a car rack and a tree.    Shopping for the essentials  A hammock and a pair of straps are the bare essentials to get camp off the ground. It’s as simple as that. You can take it to the next level with bug protection, weather shelters, and hammock insulations, but we’ll focus on just the essentials for this blog.  Essential #1 Hammock When shopping for a hammock, you’ll want to look at the material and weight capacity for strength and durability. Aim for ripstop nylon fabrics. If your hammock gets a small hole, ripstop will prevent additional tearing so your hammock doesn’t shred like string cheese.  You’ll also want to take into consideration the size of the hammock for comfort. The right hammock size is a matter of individual preference. Hammocks come in multiple sizes and most people will have no problem finding a comfortable fit.  Best used for Lounge Capacity Dimensions Max Weight Capacity Packed Weight Roo Single UL Backpacking 1 person 4 ft 2 in x 8 ft 4 in 300 lbs 5.6 oz Roo Single Camping & lounging 1 person 4 ft 2 in x 8 ft 4 in 400 lbs 10.2 oz Best used for Lounge Capacity Dimensions Max Weight Capacity Packed Weight Roo Double Camping & lounging 1 - 2 people 5 ft 7 in x 10 ft 500 lbs 18 oz Roo Double XL Camping & lounging 2 - 3 people 6 ft 6 in x 11 ft 6 in 500 lbs 22 oz One last thing to consider when shopping for a hammock is the modularity capabilities for adding creature comfort accessories like under quilts, sleeping pads, etc. All the hammocks listed above have integrated loops lining the fabric edge, making it possible to attach accessories. You may not need these loops for your first test run in the backyard, but you’ll be glad to have them in the backcountry.    Essential #2 Hammock straps When researching hammock straps, you’ll see the term “hammock suspension system” come up a lot. This simply refers to how a hammock hangs between anchor points, aka the straps and carabiners (sometimes toggles) that connect the hammock to the straps. It’s good to note not every hammock brand provides carabiners, which is why you’ll see carabiners included in some strap packages. If you’re picking up any Kammok hammock you won’t have to worry about this. Strap style: You’ll see all sorts of shapes and sizes from rope to flat webbing. Ropes require knot tying skills and due to the thin characteristics of their design, they tend to cut into tree trunks. We recommend flat webbing straps to evenly distribute weight on the tree and they do not require knots. Webbing straps are easy to use and great for first-time hammockers. Strap length: Hammock straps are typically sold in a pair, two individual straps in a single package. You’ll want to look at the length of each strap and the combined length. We recommend 10ft straps (a combined length of 20ft) for the most common setup. If your anchor points are very far apart or very wide in diameter, you could increase the strap length with extenders or opt for longer straps. Strap attachment points: Hammock straps have several loops along the strap to clip in a carabiner. The more points of attachment, the better control you’ll have in setting the optimal hang angle. Weight capacity: The weight capacity of your straps is just as important as your hammock. Your straps should at least match or go above the weight capacity limit as your hammock.  Best used for Strap Style Combined Length Length per strap Attachment points per strap Weight Capacity Packed Weight Python 10 UL Backpacking Flat webbing 20 ft 10 ft 20 points 300 lbs 3.2 oz Python 10 Camping & lounging Flat webbing 20 ft 5 in 10 ft 2.5 in 20 points 500 lbs 8.2 oz Best used for Strap Style Combined Length Length per strap Attachment points per strap Weight Capacity Packed Weight Python 15 Camping & lounging Flat webbing 30 ft 3 in 15 ft 1.5 in 33 points 500 lbs 11.8 oz Python Extenders Camping & lounging Flat webbing 9 ft 2 in 4 ft 7 in x 2 in 1 point 500 lbs 6.4 oz Setting up your hammock Once you’ve acquired the essentials, you’re ready to hammock camp in the backyard. As we walk through the steps below we’ll use a Roo Double and Python 10 straps as the example.   Step #1 - Find the perfect spot: Great job! You already scouted the backyard for the perfect anchor points to hang your hammock. The ideal anchors are 12-15 feet apart and sturdy to hold your weight. For a Roo Single, a shorter hammock, the ideal distance is 10-13ft. For a Roo Double XL, a longer hammock, the ideal distance is 13-15ft. For this example, we’ll refer to the anchor points as trees.    Step #2 - Putting up the straps: The ideal height to hang each strap is at eye level or higher. The widest end of the straps should rest around the tree. To hang, feed the narrow end of the strap through the opening of the wide end.   Step #3 - Attaching the hammock: With the carabiner attached to your hammock, clip the carabiner into one of the attachment points on your strap. Repeat on the other side. The goal is to have the lowest point of your hammock hang no more than 18 inches off the ground, roughly shin height. This may take a couple of tries since it’s your first time, but once you’ve got it down, next time will be a breeze.   Step #4 - Get in: We recommend weight testing with your arms before jumping in. Push down firmly on the hammock and make any adjustments if needed. Once everything looks and feels good, you’re clear to get in.   A final word of advice for backyard campers Going hammock camping in the backyard is as simple as owning a hammock and pair of straps. You can take it to the next level with bug protection, weather shelters, and hammock insulations, but if you don’t have that gear, that shouldn’t stop you from trying something new. Add warmth by using a sleeping bag you already have or pull the sheets off the bed. Check the forecast to camp on a clear night to eliminate the need for a weather shelter. Plus, you'll be able to stargaze without a shelter over your head. By using what you have and checking the weather beforehand, you don’t have to go all-in acquiring the additional gear until you’re ready. Start small in the backyard and work your way up to camp in the backcountry.