The Great Dinosaur Adventure

Last Saturday I wanted to get out of the house, and I knew bad weather was coming, so it was now or never. There was a place at the southern end of the mountain range known for having plants not found anywhere else in the area, so that was our destination. I loaded up the kids, told my husband where we were going so if we broke down he'd come find us, and off we went. We didn't see any people the entire day, but we did see some sheep.

 The southern mountains were beautiful, and colorful flowers dotted the benches (slopes coming down from the mountains).

 We stopped near some rocks to go "rock climbing." Desert Boy decided after a quick try that it wasn't quite right for him. Desert Girl tried out her newly acquired bush-whacking skills. She did quite well.
Then we had a picnic lunch. That always makes every trip fun. Afterwards Desert Boy wanted to climb the hill on the other side. I wasn't too enthused, but he really wanted to go, so up we went.

 I did find a couple interesting flowers on the way up, and the views were really nice.

 At the top, Desert Boy found a couple bones. He was delighted.

 We wandered over the flat top and looked down at the wash on the other side. The bottom was bright green with round circles.

 It was so quiet, and it felt so desolate! One of the things I like best about the desert is the sound of it.

 But then little cries irrupted the silence. Desert Girl had found what made all those circles down below--harvester ant mounds. She had been intrigued by one and wandered close enough that the ants started crawling on her. One bit her, and she was none too happy. We hiked back to the truck and continued on our trip.

 The next road we traveled was nearly a tunnel through the sagebrush. These are some of the tallest sagebrush, and densest, that I have ever seen. The kids napped while we bumped along on two-track roads. There are very few signs out there, so it's a really good idea to have a map.

When Desert Boy woke up, he wanted to go home. I told him we weren't quite done with our adventure. He wasn't happy, but when I told him we would look for more bones, he perked up.

 Then we found LOTS more bones, and he was so happy! I wouldn't let him take anything that still had hair or blood on it. I guess I'm a mean mom.

 We went farther and he found even more bones. I found flowers. Desert Girl found more ants (but observed them from a distance). So we were all happy.

 It was getting cloudier and windier, so it was time to head home.

The next day when we woke up, we were in for quite a surprise:

 Back to winter! It was a great day for relaxing. And for Desert Boy and his daddy to work on their project: putting the bones together. Because these weren't just any bones, they were dinosaur bones. And they were both very determined to recreate the dinosaur.

This is what they came up with:

It's a very dangerous dinosaur, even though it's small.

This dinosaur skeleton now holds a place of honor in our house.

It may take us a while to top The Great Dinosaur Adventure.

Lake Mead Trail Run

 I had to go to Lake Mead for a couple days of meetings and decided to stay at the cheapest hotel in the area, the Hacienda. It is part of a casino, which isn't too appealing to me, but it is also in Lake Mead National Recreation Area, and there's a trail right next to it. So when I woke up, I headed down to the trail for an early morning trail run. The trail follows an old railroad bed, so it's perfect for not too difficult a run.

 It has nice views of the marina and Lake Mead.

 I also really enjoyed the different vegetation of the Mojave Desert. These creosote bushes are always so lovely!

 This trail includes some train tunnels, making it extra fun. I remembered three from a previous jaunt, but it turned out that there were five (I guess I didn't go far enough before!).

 Signs and benches have been added since my last trip (several years ago), and they are nice additions.
Previously I had seen other people on the trail, but this time I had it to myself. It's a combo bike/hike trail.

The tunnels have been stabilized in a restoration project. I heard bats in the first one and saw birds fly out of a couple of them.

The rock around there is so different from where I live. I really enjoyed all the shades of brown and tan with hints of orange. One of the signs talked about the families that lived nearby during the construction of the Hoover Dam and how miserable it was for them due to a lack of shade.

Pretty flowers--but I don't know what they were!

After the last tunnel I passed through a gate that was marked as Bureau of Reclamation land. The trail went around some buildings and then headed downhill towards the dam. I had reached my turn around time, but I was so curious about what was next that I decided to go just a little farther.

That's when I saw some desert bighorn sheep! They were enjoying the quiet morning until I spooked them, then they crossed the trail in front of me and went up into the rocks on the other side.

I continued a bit farther, hoping to catch a glimpse of the dam. I saw lots of power lines and even part of the new bridge (on the upper right part of the above photo). The trail was descending quickly and I really had to get back to go to work, so I will have to go back another day to take the trail all the way to the dam.

The run back went quickly, although I couldn't resist stopping a couple times to take more photos.

The temperature was in the high 60s/low 70s, so really comfortable.

Finally I reached the spur trail that had led down to the main trail. At the top I went through a different spot into the Hacienda parking lot and found a sign denoting this as a trail and distances (3 1/4 miles to the dam).

I had managed to forget my running shoes, so these are the shoes I did my run in. They worked out well!

So Tempting

While I was in the hardware store this past weekend, I heard cheeping and turned around to find lots of little chicks eating happily.

Chicks?

In the hardware store?

This was something new for me. And I couldn't believe my gut reaction that I wanted to get a couple and take them home. They were only $2 each. They wouldn't cost that much. And they would be such a good learning tool for Desert Girl and Desert Boy. They both love animals. And did I mention how cute they were?

Plus they would help me recover from my appallingly petless childhood (unless you count the goldfish that survived two days--Mom and Dad, I'm still traumatized by that).

Before I reached in and grabbed a couple, I thought a little more.

Q: What would I feed them?

A: Um, grain? I think. Cracked corn? Where the heck do you get cracked corn? Would I have to go scavenge in the fields? Could they just eat the silage the ranch cows eat? Or maybe one of those big bags of chicken feed that they have conveniently nearby would suffice.

Q: Where would I put them?

A: In a box in the house so we could watch them grow and ooh and awe over how cute they are.

Q: But what about when they get bigger?

A: I guess we would need a fence or something. And a place for them to go inside so the big owls don't eat them. And we'd need straw. And then would they lay eggs? Eww, the thought of putting my hand under hens' butts to feel for eggs is kind of gross. And if I wanted eggs, how many chicks would I want? And if we didn't want eggs and instead slaughtered the chickens, who would pluck them? That sounds not very fun to me.

Q: But aren't they so absolutely cute and wouldn't the kids just adore them?

A: Yes!

I asked the clerk how chick sales were going, and he said really well. They had already sold out two of the five crates they had.

Who were all these people buying chicks?

He also said that it was amazing how fast they had grown in just the last week. Well, the whole time I watched them all they did was eat and cheep. All that eating had me a little nervous, as what goes in, must come out.

So my inner voice of reason discouraged me from buying any chicks this year.

But I've already talked to my husband about where we would have chickens if we decided we wanted them.

And other animals.

And he has a plan.

And it won't be long till the kids are in 4-H, and I don't want to the totally incompetent 4-H mom who knows nothing about raising poultry--or goats--or sheep--or pigs.

So maybe next year...

2011 Old Sheepherders' Party

Last weekend we were fortunate to be able to attend the 2011 Sheepherders' Party, celebrating a way-of-life that is fascinating to me. It was held at the Border Inn and attracted a full house. Friday evening was open mike, and we heard some great stories of life out on the range, some risque jokes, super singing, and much more.

The next day we missed the sourdough pancake breakfast and range tour, but we were able to make it to the afternoon program featuring Sid Hausman.

Sid Hausman is a real treat. A talented musician, songwriter, and artist, he had something for everyone in the program. I was in awe of his musical ability, he made it seem so easy!

He switched to a banjo, giving a perfect twang for his Southwest-themed music.

Emma was having a ball. She loves music, and she spent nearly the entire program on her feet, wiggling along to the beat. Here she graces Denys with some of her moves.

Little Desert Girl could really move!

She took a liking to the gentleman sitting across the row from us and took her first step on her own without coaxing to go over to him. I didn't get a chance to tell him afterwards what a momentous occasion it was.

Ukelele? You bet. He made it sound good, too!

Then it was time to get the kids to Grandma and Grandpa's so my hubby and I could go enjoy the Basque-style dinner. It was wonderful not trying to entertain kids for two hours and just be able to enjoy conversing with our tablemates.

The food was delicious: soup, salad, lamb, beef, chicken, mashed potatoes and gravy, wine, punch, and ice cream and cookie for dessert.

The cafe was packed, and everyone was having a good time.

I love this photo of Sam rushing off to do something important. He looks great in his cowboy hat!

Afterwards it was time to visit with friends and then get the kids so they could enjoy some dancing to the music of the Silver Sage Band. What a great party. We can't wait till next year!

(If you want to see more about sheep on this blog, click the little blue word sheep below.)

Into the Inversion

So we've managed to get an impressive amount of snow out here in the Great Basin Desert.

Even the old-timers are saying things like, "I haven't seen this much snow since my aunt wrecked the car by driving into a snow drift and then had to walk five miles home in a blinding blizzard (uphill), but instead she got lost and went in circles (uphill) for three hours, and then it was really like ten miles she walked (uphill), and she only survived because the Christmas star came out and guided her the rest of the way (uphill)."

Okay, nobody said that.

But I have heard a couple comparisons (or hoping that we aren't going to be compared) to the winter of '48-'49, which was a really bad one. So much snow fell and blew--and blew--that most of the roads in the area were closed and lots of livestock were stranded out in the range. Ranchers couldn't get out to check on them, because each time they started off from home in their Caterpillar dozers, the snow blew back over their tracks and they risked getting stranded themselves.

Sheepherders in lonely sheep camps couldn't even go far from their tiny abodes because of the deep snow. They despaired as they saw more sheep dying each day and they were helpless to do anything about it. They relied on the radio to get news of what was going on in the outside world. And fortunately they got news of something to help them out: Operation Haylift. The U.S. Air Force came out to help, dropping hundreds of tons of hay in western Utah and eastern Nevada. This real-life event took place using C82 "flying boxcars." You can read a pretty good account in this Time article. Hollywood also made a movie called Operation Haylift, using some real footage, and you can find it on Netflix.

Somehow I've managed to digress, because the real topic of today's post is the inversion we've had the past few days. I guess being in all the frigid weather with deep snow has put me in a wee bit of a gloomy mood with regards to weather.

Up high on the mountain, the weather has been great. It's snowy there, too, of course, but the sun is out and trees are emerging from their wintery weight.

Down in the valley, it's been a different story. Instead of the warmer weather being at the lower elevations, like it usually is, the temperatures have inverted, with a cap of air keeping the cold air down in the valley. Those cold air molecules have sunk, and they're trapped until we have wind to blow them out.

Entering an inversion is kind of an interesting process. You start out in the nice sunlight and see the cloud layer below. On the other side of the valley you can see the mountains poking out above the clouds, looking like islands in the mist.

The cloud layer made me think of the time when vast Pleistocene lakes, some as big as today's Lake Michigan, filled the valleys in the Basin and Range country. That was back in the days of the wooly mammoths, dire wolves, camelids, two different horse species, and an array of other animals that made their home here. Paleoindians roamed the area, hunting these animals. It was cooler and wetter than recent millenia.

We've gotten so much snow that the bushes are entirely covered, appearing as white hummocks from a fast moving vehicle. Or from a slow crawl. Or anything in between. This is the kind of weather you expect in Montana, not in Nevada.

The road straightened and the layer of clouds started looking more ominous. I could still see the mountains on the other side...

...but not for long.

It sort of felt like a bad horror movie. You know what's going to happen, but you just can't avoid watching it happen.

And then, there it was: the road disappearing into the clouds. And I was hurtling myself into it.

Help! Stuck in the inversion!

Fortunately this inversion cleared out in a few days. We don't have pollution stuck under the cloud layer with us (like Los Angeles frequently does), so although the colder temperatures (about 15 degrees colder that day in the clouds from up in the sun) and gloomier light might make everyone feel a bit grumpy, it could be worse.

When Desert Boy got up Christmas morning and asked why our stockings hung by the fireplace with care weren't filled with goodies (he had heard from a neighbor that they would be, and then I had promptly forgot), I considered telling him Santa Claus couldn't come in for a landing in the inversion. But I didn't. I chose distraction instead. Hopefully that was the right thing to do.