A Little Detour

A couple weeks ago I took Desert Boy to town to go to the dentist. Town in this case was over two hours away by paved roads. Perhaps it was all the city traffic, or maybe it was the stoplights, or perchance it was just so many stores and bright lights to look at. Whatever it was, on the way home I decided to take a detour and get off the civilized paved road. I knew I could turn off the highway by a ranch, head up the valley, go across the pass, and in a while I would end up at home. Had I ever taken this route before? No. But I knew it would work out, and I had a truck full of groceries, so we had plenty to eat and drink.

One of the first signs we saw were these Stay Out tires along the post. It made us feel very welcome as we drove along. Actually, the Stay Out tires cracked me up, because everything on the other side of the fence pretty much looked like what was on our side of the fence. We obeyed, though, and stayed on our side.

Our side consisted of this long, long gravel road, stretching out as far as the eye could see. If you look really hard, you can see some mountains at the end of the road. I figured we'd have to drive nearly to those mountains before we made our turn to go over the pass. So we drove and drove. Desert Boy woke up from his nap and we sang songs. There wasn't much to point out to him except mountains and desert plants because we didn't pass a single vehicle. It was a blissful afternoon in the desert.

We came to a couple intersections and I headed in the direction I knew we needed to go. The only problem was that the roads didn't keep going in the direction they started out, and eventually I determined that we were disoriented. That's right, we were not lost. Someone once told me that as long as you enjoy where you are, you're not lost, just disoriented. Plus, it wasn't like we could just pull over to the nearest convenience store and ask for directions, so it was better just to enjoy it. After driving a bit further, the sun started getting a little lower in the afternoon sky and I decided it might be better to backtrack and try a different set of two-track roads. On the way back I got a picture of this neat sheep corral. I wouldn't have seen it if we hadn't gotten lost--oops, I mean disoriented.

We finally reached a more traveled road that led to a white-colored mountain called Crystal Peak. I had been to this peak before and felt good that I could find my way home from it. We stopped to admire the volcanic rock, which really stands out against the darker surrounding rock and conifers. Desert Boy needed a diaper change and the back of the truck was full of groceries leaving no space, so I pulled the diaper bag out of the truck and we went a little ways off the side of the road. After changing him, I thought it might be fun to walk around a little and stretch our legs.

I also enjoyed looking at some of the neat plants like this rock spiraea (Petrophytum caespitosum). It grows in mats on the rock and puts up these pretty flowers.

The mountain is quite large, and the volcanic tuff has lots of interesting pockets in it. There's a ponderosa pine tree at the bottom of the picture to give you some perspective. 

Well, after enjoying our break, we got back into the truck and went home, tired but happy. It was a bit of a chore unloading all the groceries, but the cold stuff had stayed cold in the coolers and the bread wasn't too smashed. I told my dear husband about our little adventure, we ate dinner, and we went to bed.

Two days later, I needed the diaper bag. I searched all over the house and couldn't find it. I made my husband look all over, and he couldn't find it either. Finally it dawned on me that I had left the diaper bag at Crystal Peak, along the side of the road. I could have rushed out there, but it was more convenient to go in the afternoon, and I figured if it had been out there for two days, a few more hours wouldn't hurt.

In the afternoon, I loaded Desert Boy into the truck and we drove nearly an hour to get to Crystal Peak. My heart started pounding hard as we got close to where we had stopped before. Would it still be there? My wallet was in the diaper bag, and I hate losing my wallet. I didn't want to have to get a new driver's license, insurance card, credit card, bank card, hotel frequent stayer card, grocery store card. I had left a dirty diaper next to the diaper bag, and surely that would have attracted a coyote, who would have grabbed the bag and ran off with it.

I parked and went around the truck to get Desert Boy out. We started heading towards where I remembered changing him. I made myself walk slowly to make sure I wouldn't miss it. I didn't see it, so I looked around, thinking about which way a coyote might have gone. I didn't really want to consider the possibility that someone might have been driving by and just picked it up and took off with it. We walked a bit further, around some bushes, on the white rock, over a little gully. And then I saw it, right where I had left it. The top was unzipped with the wallet right on top. The dirty diaper was wrapped neatly next to the bag. I quickly thanked God and all the angels and saints and picked up the bag and took it right to the truck. I figured only out in the rural desert could I leave an open diaper bag with a wallet practically hanging out of it and it would be fine days later.

And then Desert Boy and I went hiking. We had driven this far, so we figured we might as well enjoy it! 

Desert Destination: Parowan Gap Petroglyphs

Every Monday we visit a desert destination.

Located north of Cedar City, Utah, the Parowan Gap petroglyphs grace a steep rockface. Although many petroglyph locations are kept secret to help preserve them, these are not because a road goes right next to them. The BLM (Bureau of Land Management--it manages most of the public land in the West) has erected interpretive signs and a fence. 

The petroglyphs were made by prehistoric Fremont and Southern Paiute cultures and placed on the National Historic Register in 1969. Although people guess what the petroglyphs mean, no one knows for certain what they all mean. That's part of the fun of looking at petroglyphs, thinking about what compelled someone to scrape a rock on the bigger rock and why they decided to draw what they did. They obviously had to spend some time to make the drawings, and likely they represent a number of different activities and counts. 

Here's the road that leads through Parowan Gap. The gap is a split in a three-mile long ridge of Jurassic Navajo Sandstone that's about 100 meters (300 feet) higher than the valley floor. Much of the sandstone has shattered, and the fence in the Gap not only protects the petroglyphs but also keeps falling rocks from getting out on the road. The Gap is the result of a stream that eroded away the sedimentary rock as it was being pushed upwards along a fault line.

This set of petroglyphs appears to have fewer human-like and animal drawings than many others I've seen. Instead it contains a large number of geometric designs, like the squares with dots on the right hand side and  the glyph in the middle called the Zipper. Recent research indicates that this area was used as a calendar. To learn more, click here.

These petroglyphs were first brought to the world's attention in 1849, when Parley P. Pratt led an expedition to look for new settlement sites. Over time, the Gap was used as an access route and a quarry. The road was expanded and some of the petroglyphs were lost. It's estimated that about half of the original petroglyphs are still present.

Sagebrush grows next to the small parking area. When Desert Boy and I visited, we had the place to ourselves, and most of the time this is a quiet spot. Crowds occasionally gather, such as during the summer solstice, when a local puts on a special presentation about the petroglyphs or when bike tours take a break.

On the left side of the above photo, you can see what looks like a sideways horseshoe; perhaps it is a map. On the right side is what appears to be a bighorn sheep. When visiting petroglyphs, it's fine to take photos, but touching the rock leaves behinds oils that can degrade the art. Some of the drawings may have been made over a thousand years ago. It is amazing how they have survived the wind and sun and rain and how they can inspire us.

Happy First Day of Autumn!

Desert Destination: Hampton Creek Trail

Every Monday we visit a desert destination.

I felt the need to go hiking, so I packed up Desert Boy and Henry and we headed to a nice mountain trail, Hampton Creek. We drove on a long gravel road to get to the trailhead, and upon arriving we saw that we would have the trail to ourselves. Desert Boy wasted no time checking out the informational sign.

With the backpack loaded, we started up the trail. Desert Boy quickly got distracted by the big boulders that block vehicles from the trail. 

A few steps further on he investigates what's been digging in the dirt. I can see that this is going to be a slow-paced hike. We have no real destination, so it doesn't matter. The Hampton Creek trail leads up to The Table, a high-elevation meadow renowned for its ancient bristlecone pines and herds of bighorn sheep. I figure we probably won't make it that far today, after all I only packed one meal.

Desert Boy observes Mama has a hiking pole and wants one for himself. He hikes with it for a few steps.

And then he decides it's more fun to use it to dig in the dirt. I need some exercise and want to feel my thigh muscles burn, so it's time for Desert Boy to go up in the backpack and we start making time going up the steep trail.

A short while later we pass the sign indicating that we're entering a wilderness area. High cliffs peek out from the surrounding forest, and it feels pretty wild, especially knowing that we're the only ones out there. We hike awhile, and although it's the Hampton Creek trail, the trail stays far away from the creek. Henry is getting thirsty (and Desert Boy is getting heavy), so I know that once we find some water, we'll take a break. Gradually our surroundings change from pinyon and juniper woodlands to ponderosa pine and aspen forest. More plants appear in the understory, including some that are still flowering. (I took 240 photos this particular day, so although this post is on the long side, I did show a little restraint. Some of the photos of the vegetation will appear in future posts.)

At our break, Desert Boy wanted the juice box. He thinks it's really fun to drink out of a straw.

He's all business here, no giggles or laughs. He wants a drink!

After he's refreshed, it's time to wander around. Desert Boy finds one of his favorite attractions: something to climb. 

He struggles awhile to get up on this log. I figure he can eventually do it, so I leave him to find a way to ascend.

He tries several different techniques...

...and eventually finds one that works. He's happy.

And then he gets this look on his face, and I can only worry. What's next?

I should have guessed what's next--water. Henry had been happily traipsing in it, so Desert Boy followed and managed to get himself soaking wet. So after a bit of happy splashing in the moss-covered stream, I change his clothes and realize I don't have any extra socks or shoes. So it's probably time to head back down to the truck. 

On the way back, Desert Boy falls asleep leaning to one side, which doesn't make the backpack too comfortable. 

Nevertheless, we make it back to the trailhead, content with our little adventure and ready to go looking for the next one.

So if you'd like a quiet mountain hike, Hampton Creek is a good place to go. The trail just gets more beautiful as you get higher, although the trail is steep and crosses the creek in several locations. It's good for both day hikes and backpacking.

Desert Destination: An Old Homestead

Every Monday we visit a desert destination.

Over the weekend I had the opportunity to visit an old homestead, one so old that it's for the most part been forgotten. A few signs of it still remain, like this square nail. The site is not easy to find, but we had a guide.

After driving a distance on a two-track road, we got out of the vehicle and started walking among some sandy knolls. The sun was bright, with not a cloud in the sky. It was a typical hot summer day.

As we got further from the vehicle, the vegetation became sparser. Could this be right, was there really an old homestead out here? Who would want to live in such a desolate place when not that far away much more hospitable places could be found? Anxious to find out, and lagging behind due to all the pictures I was taking, I hurried to meet with the rest of the group and see what they were looking at.

Sure enough, there was an old wooden log. Our guide explained that the area had once been substantially wetter. The homestead was close to a freighter route that was used to take supplies to the mines.

This obviously isn't one of the freighters, but it is an old wagon and helps me get in the mindset of how hard life was back then. My goodness, the wheels are made of wood! There's no suspension, much less comfortable seats, air conditioning, and a radio. Travel would have been a lot different than it is today.

Here's another view of the wagon. Can you imagine how dusty you would get sitting in it, behind horses that would be kicking up the dry dirt? And back in those days you might only have one outfit, so you wouldn't even be able to put on a clean outfit when you arrived at your destination. You'd just shake off the dust, and everyone smelled a little ripe so you wouldn't even notice--maybe. The definition of a shower was standing under a waterfall or a bucket, and a hot shower was probably beyond most people's comprehension.

Some old barbed wire was nearby. I imagine that they used it to fence in stock animals. Back in the early days of the homesteads, in the late 1800s, there were very few fences up in the valley. Herds of sheep used the valley as winter range, and the sheepherders moved them all over, following the grass.

A few more square nails and some old glass lie over on the side. But beyond these few reminders of someone trying to scratch out a life in the harsh desert, we can't find anything. Our imaginations fill in the blanks as we think about how these hardy people survived.

Not too far away are shells, indicating the increased water of the past made it possible not only for humans, but also for other creatures to survive. 

Living in the desert is not easy, especially when you don't have the conveniences of today, and more importantly, when you don't have water. After the water dried up (probably due to nearby pumping for irrigation), the vegetation died off, and the wind carried off the fine particles of sand, leaving just the coarser material behind. The site is called "the blow out" because of this, and on very windy days, the wind still blows dust from this area. It's such a change from the time when it appeared to be a good place to build a house and make a living. 

Crossing the Cattle Guard

Cattle guards are very common in the west, and we have to cross two to leave the ranch. In case you're not familiar with cattle guards, they are not people who stand around and guard the cattle (despite what one Washington DC official thought when he said that to help improve the budget they should just get rid of  a bunch of those cattle guards). Rather, they are metal slats that are supposed to intimidate the cattle and sheep from crossing because their feet could slip through the slats. Vehicles can cross easily though. Cattle guards are found where important roads cross fence lines and they are in lieu of a gate that would need to be opened and closed.

One of the cattle guards is at the end of the driveway. It's a bit smaller than standard and has filled in quite a bit, as you can see from the small apricot tree growing between the bars. As a result, it's not much a deterrent to cattle getting into our yard, and I've watched many a cow jump across it. It's kind of a funny sight to watch a cow jump, which is good because I'm usually chasing it out of the yard after it's eaten my tulips and am in need of a laugh. In this photo I can get a laugh from those sexy white legs in the background (don't tell my husband!).

Desert Boy has been getting braver and more agile, so he decided to see if he could get across the cattle guard. He had to balance carefully so that his little feet wouldn't slip through the slats.

Oops, one spill. He doesn't seem fazed though and doesn't even make a peep.

He gets back up and heads towards the water on the other side. Water is always something that attracts him.

Henry decides to get in on the action. Henry may think he's helping, but usually he gets right in Desert Boy's way.

He made it across and now can sit in the water and play!

Or start eating dirt and grin when Mom and Dad tell him to stop. He's still getting his daily dose of dirt despite our best efforts.