Of the three natural bridges in the park where we work, Kachina is probably my favorite for several reasons. For one, aside from the stunning natural beauty that it offers, there are also a number of Native American artifacts at its base.
One the right hand arch of the bridge there are petroglyphs and pictographs that date back over 700 years, and down a short trail to the left of the bridge one can find an old stone wall, more cliff drawings, and amazingly, ears of corn also believed to be over seven hundred years old, still preserved by the dry Utah air.
I enjoy poking around in this small chunk of ancient history. Adding to the unique atmosphere is the reddish-brown soil, a darker backdrop than provided by the other two bridges. And as there are many deciduous trees to provide shade (plus the bridge itself) it is often a cool, shadowy respite from the heat of the surrounding desert. There are some fairly deep pools there as well, homes to tadpoles and other creatures. It is not hard to understand why ancient peoples chose this site to live in.
I was still feeling a bit under the weather but wanted to get out for a bit, so we decided to take a ride down to Mexican Hat, a tiny town south of here. There is a famous road that leads there called the Moki Dugway, a steep, treacherous, unpaved track that drops 1100 feet from the Cedar Mesa to the valley below. Many bug-eyed travelers have come in to our visitors center, still shaky from driving this road.
Neither of us really minded it, appreciating the amazing view of the Valley of the Gods, and in the distance, Monument Valley. There is no guard rail there, but we sent slowly and had no trouble. Next we stopped off at Gooseneck State Park. I wished I had my telephoto lens already. At the park you can look down 1,000 feet into an entrenched meander created by the silt-laden San Juan River. It weaves back and forth, flowing more than five miles while progressing only one linear mile toward the Colorado River and Lake Powell. Jonathan got excited there, viewing a lovely desert spiny lizard, who bravely posed for many photos.
Jonathan at Gooseneck State Park
A short time a ater we arrived at Mexican Hat. The name comes from a curiously sombrero-shaped, 60-foot (18 m) wide by 12-foot (3.7 m) thick (18.3 x 3.7 m), rock outcropping on the northeast edge of town. The “Hat” has two rock climbing routes ascending it.
The village itself is small, home to fewer than 100 people and offering a few restaurants, Inn’s and trading posts. A river runs through it, the San Juan, and we sat down beside it in a shady spot, with no one else around.
San Juan River
After this respite we tried out one of the local restaurants, having tacos and nachos. Most of the population seemed to be Native American. Though the town doesn’t have much, we liked what if offered and want to go back some night for dinner. On the way home we experienced a Utah traffic jam, a large herd of cows in the middle of the road being corralled by a bona fide cowboy. Though I was tired again by the time we got back, I really needed to get out of the house for something besides a doctor’s appointment, so I was really pleased with all that we saw and did. And if I ever start feeling better, we’ll do a whole lot more. I miss hiking and need to get back to it soon!
One of the favorite areas we patrol at Natural Bridges is White Canyon, featuring Sippapu Bridge. To reach the bridge one must climb down a steep mountain trail that also includes three wooden ladders to assist in navigating the most challenging parts.
Jonathan taking the plunge at Sipapu Bridge
One morning, after reaching the bottom of the first ladder, we looked in to the dead trees that line the path and saw three large turkey vultures looking majestically sinister as they surveyed the canyon below. On another occasion there was a lone vulture in the same spot, who posed for us with his wings spread.
About half-way down the trail there is a wide ledge where one can view the canyon, bright green trees seen through the rock hole created by Sipapu Bridge.
At the bottom there is a stream, mostly dry but with a few lovely pools, some of them a couple feet deep, up against the cliff walls. Jonathan loves this place, and he has seen several tiger salamanders, a large, colorful amphibian that dwells alongside the leopard frogs there. The tiger salamander is the only salamander found in the park, as the desert is conducive for only the hardiest species. They are elusive and it takes a lot of patience to see them.
Sipapu Emerald Stream
I’m sure we will take many more hikes to Sipapu during the next two months. It is a strange but gorgeous spot that I’m sure we’ll always remember.
After visiting the Arches, Jonathan and I got in to a bit of a debate about whether we should stay the night in a motel, or save the money and drive the 120 miles back. We opted for the latter.
The sunset on the mountains as we left town was lovely. The peaks glittered gold, but all below was turning a snowy blue, if you know what I mean.
Sunset
We soon regretted our decision, realizing that the dark road was dangerous, isolated, and that if we broke down there might not be any help until morning. It doesn’t pay to be cheap! Plus, we were very tired. Tying his hands to the helm, Jonathan guided the car through the blackness, kept awake only by the strains of Blue Oyster Cult on the stereo.
It was completely dark by the time we were half-way, and as I was listening to my I-pod, Jonathan suddenly said “Wow!” I took my headphones off and asked him what was the matter. He was looking upwards and pointing. I looked up and we saw the stars. This might sound like nothing, but out here…it’s something! We stopped the car and looked at the sky. Because there are not towns producing light pollution, the stars out on that dark road were beyond anything we’d ever seen in the sky before, absolutely magnificent.
Natural Bridges
Actually, Natural Bridges, because of its remote location, is considered the premier American national park for celestial viewing. We have an astronomy program that starts in May and we’re looking forward to it. Seeing the stars on the way home from Moab cheered us up and gave us extra energy for the challenging ride home.
After our stop in Moab, we continued on to Arches National Park, just a short distance up the road. This area was inhabited by ancient people, and later by the Anasazi, Fremont and Utes tribes. Forty years ago it was an isolated and seldom visited place -hard to believe, since it is a spectacular park with an astounding 2,000 documented natural arches as well as monoliths and fins, with the Manti-La Sal mountains in the background.
First we stopped at Balanced Rock, a gravity-defying boulder, precariously resting on a pedestal-like rock mound.
Balanced Rock
Stopping for photos was essential. Even more amazing was the so-called Windows section, which features several stone arches in close proximity to each other. We climbed about the north and south windows, taking photos and marveling over these giant, eye-like openings in the rock.
South Window Arch
South Window Arch
We next hiked to Delicate Arch (which is so famous that you’ll see it on every Utah license plate), a relatively small but graceful formation, placed on the stunning backdrop of slick rock Basin and the Manti-La Sal mountains.
We got back in the car and proceeded next to Sand Dune Arch and Broken Arch, also impressive.
Sand Dune Arch
The Devil’s Garden was probably my favorite section. A lovely path wound through rock passages, past scenic overlooks, and finally to an arch at the end. We saw two ravens snuggling affectionately in a tree here. Jonathan was singing his usual strange songs, and I was so happy to once again be in nature.
I have been quite sick this week, so have asked Jonathan to do a guest blog for me. He’s a really good writer, so I think you’ll enjoy it. - Trish
I was planning on taking Trish to the doctor’s today, but she wanted to give it one more day of trying to recover on her own, so I relented. She did concede that she needed some sick-person food, so I was dispatched to Blanding, seeking soup and ginger ale.
At first this seemed like a bit of a chore, but once behind the wheel, I enjoyed driving off in to the wild west. A few miles down the road, a mule deer sauntered across the road in front of me, then stood and stared as I slowed down to look at it. This moment somehow reinvigorated me, reminding me of why I came to live here in the wilderness.
The highway was sunny and warm, and after a huge amount of recent stress, I felt liberated to be driving through this amazing beauty without a single stop light to worry about on the way. With the spirit of Ferriss Buellar guiding me, I sought to enjoy the time in my own quirky way, yet accomplish tasks as well.
I arrived in Blanding about 45 minutes later. This town doesn’t seem to have the greatest reputation, but I have developed a fondness for it. It’s very basic, containing just the essentials and little else. So far the people there have been friendly to me and I’ve gotten what I’ve needed.
The little library is pleasant, and I picked up books on reptiles, snips and snails, hobbits, and all my usual stuff. The librarians are pleasant and helpful.
I particularly like the cute little bank building, and had kind of fantasized about opening an account there, but on closer investigation, discovered that it was closed, and probably had been for a long time.
The little old bank in Blanding
The stores are rather dreary, but I was able to get most of what we needed. On the way home I decided to go for a little walk. About half-way is a strangely lovely place called Comb Wash, a valley below a steep ridge. The budding green leaves on the tree strike a lovely contrast with the deep red soil. Though I did not want to leave my beloved alone for too long, I couldn’t resist a brief walk.
Parking on the edge of a little campground, I strolled off in to the bush. I found a dry stream and followed it, soon delighted to find that there were a few pools of water here and there. Pools excite me, as this is where amphibians and other aquatic creatures dwell.
Indeed, I was delighted to find two good-sized toads in the process of mating in the water. I like to watch, and the toads were not modest at all. There were also some small fish, which surprised me, as typically fish do not inhabit streams that dry up, so perhaps this little creek is able to retain some of this water in the summer, or perhaps rains will come and the fish will swim further downstream.
I felt pretty content hanging out by the desert pool, feeling a million miles away from everything. I will return to this spot as soon as I can.
Back in the car, I felt great. Trish is a great traveling companion; we get along very well. But alone, I am able to turn up my music and sing loudly, to such favorites as The Cowboy Song by Thin Lizzy. Nothing feels better.
Unfortunately Trish was still feeling lousy when I got back. I decided to go for a walk nearby, on a rocky trail leading to a canyon. I found interesting boulders with small arches built in to them, and saw a deep bowl cut in to the bottom of the canyon.
I began clambering down steep rocks trying to get down, carefully watching where I placed my hands and feet, for fear of rattlesnakes. In some places I had to sit and slide down, as it was slippery. It was hot and I took off my shirt. My pants were filthy with red soil, but I kept them on.
The view to the canyon below was stunning. I could see pools of water down there, surely teeming with amphibians. I wanted to jump down as soon as possible.
But there wasn’t time to do it and make it back before dark, so I had to turn around. This was frustrating yet wise. Breaking one’s neck would be easy in such a place, and so I decided to retreat and come back earlier some day, and with a companion.
On my way out I heard a strange whirring sound, a buzzing that was unfamiliar, and creeped me out a bit. I could hear it getting louder as I walked towards it. Finally, in a little rocky gulch, I saw a lone hummingbird flitting around. This place was so quiet, that I could actually hear fluttering hummingbird wings from some distance away. That is true silence.
I came back to our little home on Cryptobiotic Boulevard and started to make dinner. I kissed Trish goodnight, as she was needing to sleep early, and settled down to my crudely made tacos.
I hope to have more days like this soon, though with Trish along with me. I’m willing to sacrifice Thin Lizzy for her…but she’s the only person I’d do that for!
One of our co workers had been raving about the town of Moab, so on a day off we decided to drive the two hours north to see what all the fuss was about. We stopped in Blanding to do a few errands at the dollar store and library, then turned on to route 191 and passed through Monticello.
Hole N' the Rock
We couldn’t resist stopping at the tacky, one of a kind, Hole N the Rock, 12 miles south of Moab. There is a 5,000 square foot store/home carved in to the side of a cliff by a guy named Albert Christensen. Christensen blasted and drilled for 12 years, then moved in with his wife Gladys in 1952. The 14 rooms are interesting simply because of the sheer rock-carving mania they required. A cavernous bathroom is referred to as “a toilet in a tomb.” The couple operated a diner in the first room until 1955 shortly before Albert died. Gladys lived 17 more years, running the cafe and gift shop.
Today, the cliff is covered with huge painted white letters that scream out “Hole N’ The Rock,” letting passersby know there’s something here that’s wondrously unnatural. A Rushmore-like head of Franklin Roosevelt is carved into an alcove near the entrance.
Unfortunately, we didn’t get a chance to enjoy the unique cactus and rock garden with benches and picnic tables carved completely of stone, because it started pouring soon after we arrived.
I have to say I have seen nothing quite like the Hole ‘n the Rock anywhere else in the world. Next we moved onto Moab which the largest southeastern tourist town along US 191. The town was cute and the biggest chunk of civilization close to Natural Bridges. We wandered around the town and pursued the used book stores, thrift store (which was disappointing) and bought our week’s worth of groceries. It was nice to a great grocery store at our disposal, if only for a day.
From there, we traveled onward to Arches National Park…
We had spent all of Friday in the house attending to tasks, so we were itching to get out on Saturday. Thus, it was off to Blanding to get hair cuts from a nice young woman we found on-line. Then we hit the pharmacy, library, and dollar store, getting all the essentials out of the way.
Jonathan as Kokopelli
It was time to relax, so we visited the Cedar Mesa museum, a well-kept treasure trove of Native American artifacts. Though I’m not hugely interested in such things, I did learn something interesting. Having long seen the humpbacked flute player on book covers, magnets, even in the form of earrings, we discovered that this image is a character named Kokopelli, is a legendary character amongst the Hopi tribe, a lecherous troublemaker, who would wander in to villages and seduce women with his music. He would wander in to town under the guise of a merchant, selling wares out of a sack, but would then entrance customers with his mysterious songs, ultimately leading to lewd acts.
Where did they go?
Outside they have a partially intact stone ruin, a good sized structure that once housed ancient Puebloans. From there we proceeded down the street to the Blanding Visitor’s Center. We met a kindly elder statesman there manning the information desk. As it turns out he was the grandson of Ezekiel Johnson, founder of our home park, Natural Bridges. He gave us free power bars and gift bags, plus lots of information, particularly about Monument Valley, which will likely be our next big trip.
To cap off an interesting day, it started to snow heavily as we left Blanding….and here it was, April 14. But a few miles down the road it suddenly stopped. The sun came out and we stopped at Cottonwood State Forest, and wandered for awhile by a lovely, crystal clear stream.
Cottonwood Wash Trail
We had to get our food home, though. Down the twisting road a few miles we crossed down in to Comb Wash, a deep valley where undoubtedly a major river once flowed. The sky was darkening and the vale appeared misty. We turned down a dirt road and took mysterious-looking photos in the gathering gloom.
A Patch of Blue
Suddenly hail rained down upon us. We returned to the paved road and headed for home, and soon there was a full-blown snowstorm coming down again. I had to drive very carefully, as the road quickly turned white. Stopping to take photos occasionally, the whole scene was beautiful…and reminded us of home.
Kacina Bridge
Sipapu Bridge
Back at Natural Bridges, we immediately set out to take photos of the park in snow, a wonderful sight as the sun again reappeared, just in time to set and end a hauntingly lovely day.
We were very tired after our first week of work, adjusting to the new environment and routine. It was hard to scrape up the energy to go very far on our first weekend off.
But with so many beautiful places practically in our back yard, fortunately it doesn’t require epic travel to see something amazing. We decided to investigate Lake Powell, which we had traversed on our journey here a week before.
Lake Powell
Taking off on Route 95, we passed through the ghost town of Fry Canyon, a uranium boom town during the 1950s. But when mining caused some of the groundwater to become radioactively contaminated, Fry Canyon dried up and blew away in less than a decade.
Continuing on, we came to another “town”, a place called Hite. The actual town is underwater, becoming submerged after the Colorado River was dammed to make the reservoir of Lake Powell. There is still a ranger station, gas station, and boat ramp there, but that’s about it. Exhausted, we lay on the rocks watching waves lapping red rocks, wondering if this is what Mars once looked like.
We saw a lovely black and white water fowl, and an unidentified fish jumping. Soaking up the sun, it was a tranquil experience.
Me at Lake Powell
Walk Softly and Carry a Big Stick
Summoning our last reserves of energy, we made it to the car and drove further in to Glen Canyon, the great gorge carved by the river. A tributary joins the Colorado there, the eerily named Dirty Devil River. Parking the car on a dusty turnoff, we walked out on to a towering bridge, taking photos of the 2,000 foot deep canyon below. This canyon is isolated and apparently seldom visited, which inspires us to go back at some point.
Dirty Devil River Canyon
Dirty Devil River Bridge
The other thing we want to do in that area is to take a ferry across Lake Powell, at one of its few crossing points. To us eastern folk, it was a strange and mysterious lake, looking more like a Norwegian fiord or perhaps Loch Ness, then an American lake. We had never heard of it before coming here, which is strange, because it is astoundingly lovely and will surely serve as the backdrop of future adventures for us. What will you do this weekend to get outdoors?
Hovenweep National Monument is considered our sister park is located in Colorado. Hovenweep (a Ute Indian word meaning “deserted valley”) contains six groups of prehistoric Anasazi Indian Ruins circa A.D. 400-1300. These include the remains of coursed-stone masonry pueblos, small cliff dwellings, and large quantities of scattered ruins.
The drive there was pleasant, we passed many cows grazing in open ranges and prairie dogs which I had never seen (the prairie dogs, not the cows).
Utah countryside
The staff warmly greeted us and instructed us on how to get around the park. The park itself was small. A group of weather beaten stone structures cloistered around a small canyon where the ancient Puebloan people dwelled.
Ranger Jonathan on Patrol
The most impressive feature of the Hovenweep ruins are the amazing towers – square, oval, circular, and D-shaped. Many of the ruins resemble castles.
Castle Ruin
Finally, we visited off site The Cajon Group consisting of a small village. The surviving structures are situated at the head of a small canyon, and evidence indicates that 80 to 100 people may have lived there.
On the way home we encountered more live stocks including a flock of sheep. Jonathan got out of the car to pet the sheep but two sheep dogs circled the car protecting the flock.
Sheep dogs charging to maul Jonathan
It was wonderful to see this park but we were happy to return to Natural Bridges and our friendly co workers.
