Desert Details

JWise Photo of the Day, Travels

Various plants, flowers, and dead old logs on the desert floor in Arches National Park in Utah

While traveling, I shoot a lot of photos, too many to post. Often, it is a chore trying to pick a few favorites that I will post with a short narrative about our journey. It can be too easy a choice to select those images with sweeping horizons, vast landscapes, and dramatic sunsets. But that can also give the impression that I miss the fine points. So today, I am showing the fine details and skipping the grandiose.

Desert plant life in Arches National Park in Utah

At sunrise on a holiday weekend, there is no waiting at the ranger booth to pay fees; two hours later, there will be over a hundred cars backed up with impatient families racing to collect an experience or two as they zoom over the road to a “hot” destination to snap a few photos and be on their way. Arches National Park this Memorial Day weekend will be plenty busy, but right now, it is all ours. The trail to Landscape Arch is quiet. All around us, spring has delivered an abundance of flowers and greenery. During the late summer and early fall, it is easy to look past the dead brush, crunchy weeds, and all of the other stuff that looks as though it was alive at the time the rocks that make up the park were still sand.

Flowering plant life in Arches National Park in Utah

To be distracted in thinking that Landscape Arch is ‘the’ thing to see is easy, and if you want to view just what the big attraction is, you can Google that, but I want to share with you what the average visitor appears to be missing. Look down at the ground, feel the fine, still cool, red sand, put your nose close to the flowers, and try to find their fragrance. There is a world of ever-changing desert life that fills in the spaces under the soaring skyline. First, you have to come to your senses that what is between your car and your idea of a destination is just as integral a part of the journey as the collection of trophies.

Flowers blooming in Arches National Park in Utah

A tiny flower is observed. How long will it live? What is its purpose? Should I have brought a book about the local flora so I might be wiser tomorrow for learning today the breadth of variety that exists in a landscape, so many people might see as barren? All around me, giant red sandstone rock begs for attention; I gladly give mine to those things below the radar screen.

A chipmunk eating breakfast in Arches National Park in Utah

Before leaving Arches we visit the now-open visitor center so Caroline can pick up a Junior Ranger guide. She whittles away like a chipmunk, trying to finish the exercises to earn her badge, and in no time, she is being sworn in. With so many people swarming into the park, we decide to leave early. This is not the first or second time we have visited Arches, and we drive over to the more subdued Dead Horse Point State Park.

A yellow Colorado Chipmunk posing at Dead Horse Point State Park in Utah

The rim trail is our hike of choice. The overlook of the Colorado River is truly stunning, but so is this yellow Colorado chipmunk. I don’t know about you, but I had never seen a chipmunk with yellow markings before – now that’s epic. For a couple of hours, we amble along the cliffside, taking our time to commune with lizards, study various cactus flowers, take in the intoxicating scent of cliff rose blossoms, and generally stay in amazement at the colorful state of the otherwise monochromatic desert.

Twisted bark of a tree at Canyonlands National Park Islands in the Sky sector in Utah

And now, over to Canyonlands and the Islands in the Sky district. The focus of this hike could loosely be considered to be the Upheaval Dome, and we sure are thrilled to see this natural anomaly about which scientists still aren’t sure how it was formed, but we are also just as happy to see how some terrific trail builders cut us a path over this difficult terrain so we can find our way over a primitive land with relative ease.

Little purple flowers in bloom at Canyonlands National Park in Utah

The day will end with dinner in Moab at Eddie McStiff’s and another visit to the local grocery for some fresh fruit and snacks for the next day. The town of Moab is stuffed to the gills with visitors on Memorial Day – the busiest day of the year for this mountain biking mecca. A torch-red strip of flaming clouds cut a diagonal across the light clouds before the sunset. Tired from a busy day of looking at small details, we head to our room to digest the rich diet of a million things our eyes ate over the course of a beautiful day.

Caroline Wise and John Wise at Arches National Park in Utah

Addendum: This post was missing all of these photos from what I’m calling an addendum. Why I only focused on the fauna and flora in close-up when I originally posted this is now beyond me. So here in the closing days of 2022, I’m rectifying these omissions to include images of where the photos above were taken. Obviously, our day started in Arches National Park.

Arches National Park in Utah

These thin fins, being all that remains of what was once solid rock surrounding them, just feel crazy that they’d still be standing while everything else simply eroded away.

Arches National Park in Utah

Delicate arch.

Dead Horse Point State Park near Moab, Utah

After leaving Arches National Park, we headed over to Dead Horse Point State Park still near Moab, Utah.

Dead Horse Point State Park near Moab, Utah

While Caroline works on her Junior Ranger booklet, I’m here with my new lizard friend, taking photos and hanging out.

Dead Horse Point State Park near Moab, Utah

The view from Dead Horse Point of a gooseneck in the Colorado River.

Caroline Wise at Dead Horse Point State Park near Moab, Utah

Earning her Dead Horse Point badge and a Red Rock Ranger patch is another pivotal moment in Caroline’s life.

Canyonlands National Park in Utah

The Green River Overlook in the Canyonlands National Park, Utah.

Canyonlands National Park in Utah

The Grand View Point in Canyonlands.

Horseshoe Canyon – The Great Gallery

JWise Photo of the Day, Travels

The Colorado river at the head of Lake Powell in southern Utah

The sun rises after we do, and we are on the road close to first light. My notes should have told us that our turn-off was just four miles north of Mexican Hat on Road 261. Instead, we drove through Bluff and over Road 95, adding a few too many miles to our morning drive. By the time we reach the top end of Lake Powell and the bridge that crosses the Colorado River, the sun is just high enough in the sky to light the canyon below. The sun reflects hot white off the muddy brown water, the same river water that will carry us through the Grand Canyon in October.

Near the trailhead leading into Horseshoe Canyon at Canyonlands National Park in Utah

The real impact of our detour is that we don’t arrive at the trailhead at 9:00 am for a ranger-led tour through Horseshoe Canyon.  Resigned to our lack of punctuality we turn down the bumpy dirt road towards the trailhead and finally make tracks down the trail shortly before 11:00 – so it goes. Our first adventure into this corner of Canyonlands National Park near the infamous Maze District is about to begin. We have lots of water, lunch, and fresh feet ready to tackle the six-and-a-half-mile hike.

A Woodhouse Toad in Horseshoe Canyon at Canyonlands National Park in Utah

The canyon is beautifully bedecked in wildflowers and greenery set against the pink, red, and orangish landscape so common on the Colorado Plateau. We plod along slowly, well, no slower than usual for the two of us, as Caroline and I must inspect every detail and linger to observe the shadows, light, sway of the trees, and beat of the sun as they make their play on the pictures before us. Walking through the riverbed in the sand, Caroline notices the movement of the last creature we expected to find in this arid environment, a Woodhouse toad.

Under a cliff overhang in Horseshoe Canyon at Canyonlands National Park in Utah

Canyon walls stretch high above, the sand makes for slow going, and the temperature is starting to inch higher. Our destination at the end of the trail isn’t the only thing we are here to see, as on the way down, we pass rock art known as petroglyphs and pictographs. Petroglyphs are etched into the rocks, while pictographs are painted onto the rock. They are found at several locations in Horseshoe Canyon and, at times, quite high upon those canyon walls. We stop and wonder what the symbols, peoples, and animals meant to the Native Americans who created them. Maybe these ancient billboards were meant to speak to other native peoples who traveled these lands in the past, or maybe they were meant to convey a message to future generations of Indians still able to interpret this wordless visual language. In this photo, look to the right of the image under the overhang – just left of the shadow next to the green vegetation are two hikers – so you might appreciate the scale of the canyon we are traveling.

Pictograph rock art at the Great Gallery in Horseshoe Canyon at Canyonlands National Park in Utah

The Great Gallery. Pictographs standing over six feet tall tower over us – and the other more than a dozen people who hiked out here with the park rangers earlier this morning. Overwhelming is the first impression these giants convey.

Pictograph rock art at the Great Gallery in Horseshoe Canyon at Canyonlands National Park in Utah

Caroline and I have seen our fair share of Native American rock art, but it has never been of such magnitude. We stand below the ledge admiring the figures, trying to take in as many details as we can while at the same time trying to create some context for who they were and what they meant to the people who took the time to baffle and bedazzle us with their neolithic graffiti skills.

Caroline Wise and Ranger Nate on the ledge of the Great Gallery in Horseshoe Canyon at Canyonlands National Park in Utah

After stepping back to have some lunch and sit amongst the other visitors, we inquired with one of the rangers if Caroline’s Junior Ranger kit that I had arranged to have brought along had made it down the trail into the canyon; sure enough, it had. Ranger Lilly had it, although she had tried to pawn it off on anyone else but found no takers – lucky Caroline. With pen in hand, Caroline got to work; furiously, she ran through the exercises until there was just one more task: a ranger program. Ranger Nate jumped to the rescue; he guided a group of us up to the ledge to speak in detail about the pictographs and allow us a closer inspection. After signing off in her Junior Ranger booklet, Ranger Nate swore Caroline in as a new Canyonlands Junior Ranger right up under those giant beings standing as witnesses.

A lone wildflower in the red sands of Horseshoe Canyon in Canyonlands National Park in Utah

The hike back was a slog through the sand. Our feet began to tire before we were to start the ascent up the canyon wall. We still stopped to admire the random wildflower or lizard baking in the mid-afternoon sun. The steep canyon walls vied for attention, as did the song of the random birds nesting in the crags and trees above. We hiked on and on and up the trail until, off in the distance, we could spot our car at the trailhead. Almost finished we paused for a drink of water, sharing a beaming smile that we finally made it deep into one small but significant corner of Canyonlands National Park and could now brag between ourselves that we had personally seen the Great Gallery with our own eyes.

The Yearly

JWise Photo of the Day

One of our cactus in its yearly bloom cycle on the balcony of our apartment in Phoenix, Arizona

A cactus on our front balcony has been blooming for us every year for the past 7 or so years. According to the photos I posted in previous years from this unknown species, it typically blooms in early April. Maybe it was the especially wet winter or the extended cold beginning to the year, but for whatever reason, the cactus is about a month late in popping open this little gift for the eyes.

(Note by Ed. aka “the wife”: The botanical name of our cactus friend is Echinocereus rigidissimus ssp. rubispinus. We’ve had it for almost 10 years.)

Blackberries and a Ghost Town

JWise Photo of the Day, Travels

Blackberries on the bush at Silva's Farm in Yuma, Arizona

Early O’thirty was about when we were off and driving southwest towards Yuma, Arizona, for a morning of blackberry picking at Silva’s Farms. Two years ago, we picked buckets full to bring back home and freeze. Now, out of fresh, sweet blackberries, it was time to make the trip once more. The season lasts about a month, and the 235-mile drive each way may not seem worth it to some, but then they probably haven’t spent a few hours in an orchard picking blackberries that fall off at a touch, staining fingers purple before being gobbled up. And gobbled up. A few for the bucket, five for me, two for the bucket, and six for me. Two thoughts come to mind: I hope I don’t get a stomach ache and do too many sun-warmed sweet blackberries give you the runs? I can attest that after eating more than a pound – for free – I felt great and was able to maintain my dignity without a mad dash to the outhouse.

Flowers at Silva's Farms in Yuma, Arizona

Twenty pounds worth, that’s how many blackberries we ended up packing into the ice chest. For everyone who thought we were crazy for driving so far just for berries, they sure didn’t mind taking a couple of pounds off our hands once they tasted them. From the farm, we drove further south to San Luis on the Mexican border, looking for a roadside taco shack. We found Tacos Sahuaro with the cook armed with a cleaver chopping up the lengua (tongue), which I tried and enjoyed. With my stomach full of tongue, it was time to drive north.

The wetlands near Imperial Dam north of Yuma, Arizona

Our first detour was a visit to Imperial Dam, and along the road, we were surprised by an oasis of shallow wetlands. A checkmark is placed next to this location for a winter return when we assume this area must play host to migratory birds. This dam on the Colorado River is the collection point for the water that will be pumped northwest into California and down to the Yuma area to irrigate the desert lands that feed so much of America’s desire for lettuce and other produce. North of the dam, we visited the Senator Wash Reservoir and surrounding lakes to see what was what on the California side of the Colorado River.

Caroline Wise and John Wise in front of the Kofa National Wildlife Refuge sign in western Arizona

Highway 95 north passes the Kofa National Wildlife Refuge – we failed to see wildlife, but our turnoff from the main highway onto Castle Dome Mine Road was not with the intent of going bird watching; we were driving up this bumpy dirt road to visit the Castle Dome Ghost Town. In our little red Kia Spectra, we bounced along over the washboard road for about 10 miles before approaching the sign directing us to a small car corral.

Inside the home of the Stone Cabin Ladies at Castle Dome Ghost Town in western Arizona

Proprietor Allen Armstrong welcomed us and collected our small $6 entry fee – that was worth every penny, although we didn’t know it at that moment. Castle Dome Ghost Town is one of the most amazing ghost towns we have visited – although we haven’t seen Bodie in California yet. After walking through the gift shop, you enter the town and take two steps back into history. Allen and his wife Stephanie purchased the property, saving it from the wrecking ball, and began restoring the 37 buildings that make up this great attraction. The photo above features some of the belongings of the Stone Cabin Ladies – Stephanie is currently writing a book about the sisters who lived in the area. One of them survived into her 90s and welcomed visitors to their diner until 1988.

Inside the Castle Dome Hotel in western Arizona

Interior of the hotel with artifacts galore on display. The openness of the displays and the opportunity to walk through this historic site are simply wonderful. Allen explained how many of the treasures were recovered from the mines where “old junk” was discarded. If you plan a visit, don’t do like us, and arrive at 2:30, you’ll be disappointed that you have so little time before they close up and kick out the ghosts at 5:00 pm.

Inside an old grocery store at Castle Dome Ghost Town in western Arizona

We ran out of time to visit the other side of the road, where an old bunkhouse and some abandoned mines are located. The mines are closed up so no one goes hurting themselves, tumbling down a shaft, or getting lost in some maze with the rattlesnakes. During the summer, the old ghost town sees few visitors – it’s hot, really hot out here, and there ain’t no air conditioning. If you should find yourself wanting to visit and aren’t sure about the hours or directions you can call the ghost town at 928-920-3062. Their map coordinates are: N 33° 02.766 W 114° 10.668

Caroline Wise at the bar in a kitchen at Castle Dome Ghost Town in western Arizona

Before leaving, we offered Allen some of our stash of chilled blackberries. He told us of how he and his wife would pick berries when they used to live in Washington, canning them for later use on pancakes. Tomorrow morning, he and his wife would make pancakes to enjoy the blackberries with – kind of a re-acquaintance with a moment from their own history. Take a minute yourself someday and visit Castle Dome Ghost Town and acquaint yourself with a moment from our country’s history – you’ll have a great time out here in the middle of nowhere.

Arizona Wildflowers

JWise Photo of the Day, Travels

Wildflowers in the Arizona desert April 2010

A wet winter in the desert portends immense beauty come springtime, and our Arizona roadsides, hills, and mountains are awash in a rainbow bursting with color. Wildflowers abound. Southeast of Phoenix, we turned East on the Florence-Kelvin highway. The pavement ends, but the dirt road keeps going. From the car, one might think they are seeing what there is to see, but we were proven wrong. Step away from the road, walk thirty feet or so through the cactus away from the car to surround yourself in the greenery of this rare occurrence of a lush green desert and you’ll never see that old brown desert the same way again.

Wildflowers and saguaro cactus in the Arizona desert April 2010

And we thought the flowers were great along the main road! Out in the middle of nowhere and between a bunch of rocks, carpets of wildflowers begin to stretch up hillsides. We pay no mind to the washboard road as we inch along, whiplashing our necks, craning first one way, then the next. Red dirt is kicked up by the occasional SUV driver speeding somewhere in a hurry, leaving us to choke on their dust. It never fails to amaze us how many people will not slow down and smell the flowers on their trek to reach a destination while skipping all the fun of the journey.

Wildflowers and saguaro cactus in the Arizona desert April 2010

Orange gives way to purple, and yellow punctuates it all as the backdrop of green and blue rides atop the weathered and cragged brown and gray mountains rising out of the sandy earth below. Saguaros are fat with moisture, their ribs bulging compared to dry years when the outside skin of the cactus draws tight on the inner skeleton of these giant sentries. Miles can pass where few flowers are seen; then around a corner, it is as though the elements have aligned and the sun is favoring this particular spot where up pop a thousand lupines, the fragrance of Cleveland Sage intoxicates the nose, and the coercion that forces you from the car has been executed perfectly – it is time to explore the desert.

Wildflowers in front of a mine in Kelvin, Arizona April 2010

Even where man has tried to move and strip the earth with his mining, the flowering fleeting intruder is determined to take back the view damaged by us. It tries to convince passersby that the world is indeed a more beautiful place that deserves to be viewed in awe for its potential to alter our perceptions. The sun begins to bear down, showing the teeth that will, in a month, clamp down on our comfort. This star of ours will fade these hues into various shades of tan and brown that will blend back into the sand and rocks, leaving a few fond memories in the mind’s eye of those who took time this spring to witness the desert’s rare display.

The road going east towards Globe as seen from the overpass in Superior, Arizona April 2010

Hunger and thirst beckoned; the impromptu turn on the dirt road earlier in the day saw us leave civilization ill-prepared, with no water and no food – big no-no’s when entering the backcountry. Now it’s time to rejoin the masses and the race to who knows where. For another twenty minutes, we’ll find ourselves still on the edge of suburbia, wishing for this spectacle of wildflowers to linger another month or so, but this is the desert, and this kind of show is nothing if not elusive and temporary.

Parry Penstemon pink bell flowers growing wild near Superior, Arizona April 2010

And just as we think we are leaving the zone of tranquility, one last round alights our senses with colors hitherto unseen this day. We are lashed with a fury of pink. The Parry Penstemon is blooming. Also known as the Beardtongue, these pink bells are the grand finale to a spectacular day of witnessing a sight few people of the southwest will take the time to see for themselves. But we did, and if you were so inclined, this would be a good time for you to treat your senses, too.

Splitting Time

JWise Photo of the Day

Flowers from Tonopah Rob's Vegetable Farm in Tonopah, Arizona

The vacation after the vacation is over, and it’s time to get back to something or other, but I am still looking for what that something is. What is certain is that on December 16th, I’ll take over watching Sonal’s little Indian and English Grocery Store until Christmas Eve. Today, I visited the farm out in Tonopah, Rob’s place. Since my great uncle’s broken hip, I’ve not had much time to volunteer on the farm, and it doesn’t look as though I’ll find an opportunity before February to get out there as much as I would like to with our trip to Yellowstone in January and all of its requisite preparations still ahead.