pres·ence[1] noun My three weeks as the Moab BLM Artist-in-Residence (AiR) was a present, a gift. In fact, it felt like I was the recipient of many presents. One of those presents was the opportunity to be fully present in … Continue reading
Just as warm summer day skies seemed almost too blue, a soothing monsoon set it, extending this season’s bountiful blooms.
Linkins Lake – Independence Pass
Secret Tarns – up the Frying Pan
Pass-top Tarn – Hunter-Fryingpan Wilderness
Locals Favorite – Savage Lakes
Not quite backcountry – but becoming one with nature…
Jesse and I spent 18 days of “WOW” amidst the colorful towering rock landscapes of southwest Utah. We backpacked, hiked, car-camped, and enjoyed a few nights with showers in small towns. The following is a selection of images from my diary of the trip.
Jesse enjoyed the views from an alcove at Red Cliffs.
Our early campsite was at Pyramid Ridge Campground. We enjoyed our fresh flowers.
Our first backpack was along La Verkin Creek, in northwest Zion. I forgot my watercolor paints, but explored with pencil, and even rendered rock formations with Rooibos tea! Later, at Watchman Campground in Zion National Park, I was happy to have my 12-color half-pan Winsor Newton travel watercolor set in-hand again.
I returned home with many dramatic impressions of rock, including having seen petroglyphs (art pecked into rock) that we visited along the way.
The 123,000-acre Holy Cross Wilderness is named for the craggy (and at times considered spiritual) “fourteener”, Mount of the Holy Cross. Glacial action that occured tens of thousands of years ago has carved steep cirques and dramatic cliff faces. This high-elevation landscape is also characterized by softer rolling terrain.
The Frying Pan valley provided me great hiking access to this area where fall foliage glowed
Amongst the folds and textures of ancient schists, granites and gneiss.
My feeling of being immersed in a wonderful ever-changing painting deepened as sunset colors caressed this watery landscape.
And after a starry half-moon night, I woke early to see the fleeting silvers and golds of sunrise.
The half-moon reminded me of the orange-gold of the previous night’s Alpenglow.
As the glaciers have melted, the amount of frozen water has diminished. Now, this area is repleat with lakes and tarns. It provides headwaters to many creeks and streams.
However, sadly, in places such as the Homestake Reservoir, this water has been impounded and diverted for use by Front Range cities. Further potential impoundments are possible and I urge readers to join in efforts to halt such proposals.
Always changing and growing, let’s be custodians of our wondrous, deeply-textured, life-giving, high-atitude landscapes!
It was forecast to be a wet week in the San Juans, but the two S’s felt that it’s always a good time to be in the mountains. After the last few dry, fiery summers, moisture would be welcome.
Early morning starts were essential to cover ground before the clouds expanded to join with the landscape below.
Mornings were clear, with a brilliant full moon.
We noted local occupants of the lake shores as we wandered their edges.
While light and water danced to the changes of day.
And flower petals glowed seductively against dark skies.
Mosses, lichens, sedges and rushes formed meadows and edges among the watery landscape.
Our silvery umbrellas like sentinels, reminded us of the night’s rain storm.
Still the mists swirled while colors unfurled.
It was to be an atmospheric weekend, loping along the Venable-Comanche loop in the Sangre de Cristo Mountains of southern Colorado.
We had an enjoyable, scenic walk up the Venable valley, but as we neared Venable Lake, stormy weather surrounded us.
We quickly discovered that the most sheltered camp near the lake was also home to overly curious marmots and a bunny. It required convincing dissuasion to keep them away from our salt-enriched belongings. They found our pole handles and backpack straps particularly enticing.
Sunrise was misty and magical. We headed uphill towards the Phantom Terrace.
True to its name, the Phantom Terrace disappears into its rocky surrounds. There are a few tantalizing seeps along the way.
We chose to wait out the stormy afternoon at Comanche Lake and were rewarded with bright morning light the following day.
It was a perfect time to climb Comanche Peak at 13,200 feet. We had views to peaks and valleys on both sides of the montain range.
Summer flowers added to the beauty of the landscape.
As did the lakes, tarns and flowing creeks.
And all too soon, the day of our departure dawned.
Many surprises shelter below the rims of Cedar Mesa canyons. Water sources are especially magical for their life-giving qualities.
On Cedar Mesa, natural rock walls, floors and ceilings, provide shelter, and are an integral part of canyon living. Images pecked in stone tell stories, address spirits, map routes, and mark people passing. Painted pictographs abound; many are of hands pressed to stone. Indentations in the rock might be painstakingly tooled moki steps, sharpening marks, or hollows for grinding corn.
The alcoves reveal many scales of construction, from remnants of crumbling granaries, to fortified structures that are almost palatial.
Flowers of the desert provide alluring colors and tantalizing textures. They might be the beginnings of edible fruit like prickly pears, or provide medicinal qualities.
Stone-walled structures in seemingly inaccessible places blend lizard-like into the towering cliffs. Where do man-made impressions end, and natural surfaces resume? In some places, the two sing together as one.
The sun sets, the land darkens, and we wonder how many more mysteries are embraced by the canyons below.
With a five-day window for a solo hiking trip, I decided to explore the outer reaches of Capitol Reef National Park. Capitol Reef is a spectacular area that encompasses the Waterpocket Fold. This giant rock “wrinkle” in the landscape provides stunning scenery, interesting geology and a diversity of wildlife. I would certainly not be the first person there; for centuries, the area has invited human occupation.
My first excursion showed signs of people from much earlier times having passed through. I located a scenic ridge for my camp. It commanded great views in all directions.
The creek was flowing full. I crossed it several times as I wandered downcanyon, and then returned back upcanyon to camp.
Watching the changing light is one of my favorite past-times at camp. Here’s a sequence from sunset to sunrise:
I lingered awhile, then wistfully packed camp. It was time to explore my way back to my car and head to a new camping destination.
On my way to the next canyon, I enjoyed a quick uphill hike to see the Golden Throne, as well as large complex rock formations, and distant views.
It had already been quite a day, and I had a little further to go. I descended between sheer canyon walls en route to the next camp.
It was a bit of a blustery night, but morning dawned clear and still. There were many sweet secret spots to discover.
Besides the wondrous rock formations, there was the magic of trees and shrubs that were just beginning to bloom.
I rounded a curve in the canyon to find two young bighorn sheep browsing. I kept very still for a long time. Afterwards, they didn’t seem to mind me passing by.
The canyon continued to provide tantalizing twists and turns.
I lingered as long as I could. I hope to return to this wondrous area soon!
Remote and awe-inspiring, exploring the Maze District of Canyonlands is a great adventure!
Dramatic drop-offs, fantastic formations, and traces of people past, were all part of this six-day backpacking trip. Initially, water was scarce, but we were treated to a magical rainstorm in the desert, followed by full waterholes and alluring pools.
The vastness of these canyonlands as experienced from the upper elevations, contrasted with the intimacy of inner narrow canyons. Surely we were experiencing four-dimensional space, or more!
