My favorite black classic Loki jacket –trusty outdoor companion for the past five years – is spending the ski season at Purgatory as a hard-side accompaniment to my daughter’s short down jacket. Meanwhile, I’ll be comfortable in my winter layers and knee length down coat – or so I thought.

The weather forecast called for mostly sunny weather and I trusted it. My trust did not prevent me packing a rain poncho and ice grips. There had been no precipitation for the previous week or 10 days at Natural Bridges, but it is December. Any water in the canyons is mostly frozen. And some ledges are in shadow 24 hours a day.

With a temperature reading of 33 degrees, I exited my car in the down coat over a ubiquitous hoodie, slung my daypack across the shoulders and set out for Kachina Bridge. I planned to hike the entire five-mile loop. Down to Kachina. Through the canyon. Under Owachomo. Across the mesa. Back to my car.

The trail was varied. Some steep slickrock, through some big sage, sandy creek bed crossings with hundreds of slender willows, a Mormon tea plant here and there amongst the mini forests of pinyon pine. In places the trail was narrow and I brushed against bushes and branches at the sides. Worried about tearing the nylon shell of my jacket, I looked down. Small dark spots spread across thighs indicating the down was absorbing droplets of water. The sky was still sunny, the weather dry. Quickly, I checked the bite valve of my water reservoir. Dry. Safely hooked to a shoulder strap in the up position.

The trail I was hiking was perfect terrain for ungulates. Without planning to do so, I had verified some oft-repeated scientific information.

My purpose for these three months of volunteer work at Natural Bridges is to facilitate accurate information for visitors via print or interpretation. When we tell visitors Desert Bighorn Sheep get most of their water from the plants they eat, visitors are skeptical. Sage and rabbit brush seem so dry. But it really is true! You can get water from plants. I hiked while the morning was still warming up, the sun peeping into the canyon. I passed through a vegetation buffet designed for large mammals. I took on water.

The Loki jacket’s purpose for the next three months is to protect a down jacket – to keep the down from being shredded by the jostling snowboards and skis of other powder buffs as she scans tickets. Loki jacket is doing that job well. But how am I to keep dry while hiking the rest of the season? How about wool?  Or maybe just a new Loki Mountain Jacket?