Grand Staircase Escalante National Monument

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Reluctantly, I departed Dixie National Forest, bound for Grand Staircase Escalante National Monument…just next door, geographically. They call it that because the mountains (faintly) resemble a staircase and to honor Fr Escalante, one of the early cultural imperialists sent by Spain to steal this land from the indigenous people. He also informed them that their religion was wrong and his was right.

We stayed here for 3 days, taking long exploratory walks. When I watch Xena explore, I try, mostly unsuccessfully, to imagine her experience of the world. Seeing everything from 6 inches off the ground seems so limiting. But the richness of the olfactory world she lives in must be incredible. She stops at some shrub or other and studies each leaf, inhaling, analyzing, cataloguing. I have informed her repeatedly that one leaf is the same as the next, but she is steadfast in her determination to study each separately.

We had delight weather until the very end of our stay. When 50mph winds and rain/snow threatened, prudence demanded departure. Although the van would have kept so comfortable and dry, I did not fancy driving out through the sea of mud the road would have become. So, we fled.

So much wide open space! So much peace and quiet! So much land to explore! Xena loved it.

This lovely tree provides both shade and sustenance to many desert animals.
Dawn’s early light on the distant mountains. They look red because red wavelengths are faster than others and reach the Earth first. This is a universal constant and explains why red cars are faster than others.
Off in the distance you can see the thin dirt road providing access to the profane world.
Xena, the Warrior Princess, is particularly pleased with this camp site.

Xena loves rolling the dirt at every opportunity.

Bryce Canyon & Dixie National Forest

A couple of weeks ago, a little girl spotted me walking Xena, the Warrior Princess, along the dock. She looked across the little spit of water separating the sidewalk and dock and gasped, “O. M. G.!” She actually said the letters out loud very distinctively, not the words. “That’s the cutest thing I’ve ever seen!”

That’s pretty much how I felt, staying in the Dixie National Forest just outside of Bryce Canyon National Park. The weather was perfect…high in the low 70s, low in the high 30s. Clear skies, just a few benign clouds. Calm winds. Just awesome. My traveling experience is evolving; I stayed in the same spot, never starting the van’s engine, for 3 days straight.

Xena and I took many long exploratory walks. Did you know cats can travel great distances without difficulty? They can. Their path is not the most direct, necessarily, and sometimes requires laying in the sunbeams, but they can travel far.

I had only one disturbance the entire time…an elderly couple walked down the my road one day. Naturally, I took umbrage at their audacity, focussed my mind on a singular thought, “Depart! Ye untutored bourgeois!” My defense successful, they fled, stooped and stumbling. I resumed imagining that no one else existed. Really! The nerve of some people!

The forests Xena and I explored and patrolled. None from the animal kingdom threatened, save the elderly interlopers mentioned above. Who were victi atque extorres. Ha!
Xena peers through the foliage, ever vigilant.

Ancient Bristlecone Pine Forest

The White Mountains, just east of the Sierras, is home of the oldest living organisms on Earth: the Ancient Bristlecone Pines. It is humbling to be in the presence of these trees; some of these trees have been growing on these mountaintops while the pyramids were built, during the rise and fall of the Roman Empire and all the rest of recorded history. You may have read about them in a recent NY Times article.

From the top of the White Mountains, you can see for miles and miles.
This is a bristlecone pine. In a post from a few months ago, I may have misidentified an imposter ordinary pine as a bristlecone. Sorry about that; I never claimed to be a herbologist.
So now you know the secrets of old age: live a life under difficult conditions. Hard work = long life. I suspect many of you should get your affairs in order.
This young man flagged me down; his tire was flat, his hydraulic jack balky. Being the helpful sort, I assisted. By “assisted,” I mean I loaned him my jack and made a cup of coffee while he changed the tire. There are advantages to driving around in your house. He is originally from Idaho, making him an Idahoan (pronounced EYE da whaan). The imperialists named it Idaho after the famous potatoes found there.

 

Death Valley Revisited

Camper van parked in the twilight with the underlighting glowing.

I realize that the last trip just kind of faded away. That’s what happens when the temperature soars and the crowds gather. I fled both nuisances and sought refuge in the cool, clement clime of the California Pacific Coast.

Now, however, is the perfect time for a road trip. Temps are still moderate, crowds largely evaporated, and diesel prices plummeting to record lows. So I decided to take the long way back to Las Cruces, New Mexico, stopping at several of my favorite places.

Author posing next to his camper van.
I spent a night bivouacking (<= thank goodness for autocorrect, just this once) near Red Rock Canyon State Park. It’s east of California City, quiet, desolate, just fine for a 1-night stay.
Rough, rocket dirt road into Death Valley.
A rough and rugged road into Death Valley, courtesy of a huge rain storm. They got a decade of rain in a day. I would have suggested spreading it out a bit, but I’m no meteorologist.
Lounging in the desert with a black cat.
O! Sweet reward after surviving the perils of the road. Lounging in the garden spot of Death Valley.
Desert oasis, complete with palm trees and soaking tubs fed by natural hot springs.
Just kidding, here is the actual garden spot. Shiftless hippies created this space over the course of a few decades. Lawn, palm trees and soaking tubs fed by natural hot springs. Added bonus, this is the entrance to a low-level training route for naval aviators. They make frequent appearances in their loud and fast planes, just a couple hundred feet above the ground.

Great Plains? How about Plain Plains.

My van developed a water leak, buried way back in its innards. So, since untamed water ruins everything, a repair was required. Winnebago dealers throughout the upper Midwest must be swamped with work; they are taking appointments 4, 5 and 6 months in the future. Fortunately (I guess), the dealership where I bought it was able to get me an appointment within a week! I only had to drive 1,000 miles to get there, hence the trip across the Great Plains.

Isn’t this a idyllic little homestead, with pond and hills for a backdrop. The stream in the foreground is the Wind River, in eastern Wyoming.
We found a lakeside pavilion for wild camping and climbing. This kind of tree makes for difficult climbing, Xena needed a little assist to make it to the top.
This is some nice dispersed camping! So green and quiet. Except for the birds, who commented on everything nonstop.
Tyger! Tyger! burning bright
In the forests of the night,
What immortal hand or eye
Could frame thy fearful symmetry?

Yellowstone…Pre-Disaster

Regrets, but my posts are lagging real time…

Lucky me! I made it to and through Yellowstone before the deluge. So sad that it rained so much it put out the fires powering the impressive displays and, in some cases, washed away the boilers as well. The National Park Services estimates that it will be years before the fountains are operational.

Oh, dear. My van has sprung a leak in its fresh water system. A cheap plastic fitting buried in the Unreachable Spaces has split. All the Winnebago dealers within Wyoming and surrounding states are taking service appointments month in the future. So…you’ll never believe the only solution I can see. I’m driving 1,000 miles to Iowa where I bought the thing so they can fix it. I suppose I should count myself lucky that they can get me in.

Geysers and geezers abound! Here are tourists gawking at Old Faithful, which was 20 minutes late.
The fountains, called “geysers,” are scattered throughout the park willy-nilly. They’re nice, I suppose, but The Bellagio in Las Vegas has a more coordinated show…and it is set to thrilling music!
There are a number of reflecting pools at Yellowstone. The NPS blames the bizarre colors on “bacteria” and the crusty mineral buildup on crusteformea minerala in the water they use. I suspect that a little attention from the maintenance department could clear up both issues.
Planting grasses and flowers right up to the edge of the hot tub is boldly innovative.
A thoughtful touch…the NPS places snow on the shoulders of the roads. This serves as a subtle clue to motorists that they’re entering the park.
The village of Jackson (sometimes called Jackson Hole), Wyoming is near Yellowstone. It strikes one as somewhat contrived, with the Old West theme overwrought. But, worth a visit; it only takes an hour or so.
Downtown Jackson is centered an a central square. The entrances are denoted by macabre arches constructed of deer antlers.

Grand Tetons

I visited Grand Teton National Park and stayed a couple of days at the main lodge, in a cabin. The views are spectacular. The National Park Service installed signs everywhere, promising bears, but none appeared. The NPS bear wrangling division clearly requires some management attention. They had better luck getting the elk and antelope to show up as promised.

Did you know that paleo-Indians settled here 11,000 years ago? That’s what the NPS web site said. I was astonished; had no idea that dietary fad had been around for so long!

Yup, this is how the Grand Tetons looked, no photoshopping or anything. Grand Tetons is French, of course. In English it means Big Tits. Apparently, French fur traders thought the mountains looked like infant feeding apparatus. Apparently, they had been in the wilderness too long. I recommend searching the web for images of large breasts to refresh your memory and then you can judge for yourself.

 

According to a National Park pamphlet, the Grand Tetons are a young mountain range. That’s why there are no foothills. Mountain ranges don’t get foothills until puberty.
Xena was wistful and indignant, believing that the private residence was rightfully hers.
Warrior Princesses are not concerned by so-called “dangers” posed by the weeds beyond this sign.

Canyonlands National Park

The motivation behind the moniker “Canyonlands” has been lost with the passage of time, but a visit to the place is worthwhile. In the shadow of Arches National Park (spare yourself the trouble of visiting these prima donna rocks), Canyonlands is quite fun for man and feline alike. I stayed in a village, called “Moab” by the locals, for 3 days. It is a perfect base from which to visit the national parks and take the scenic drives around the area.

These treacherous drop-offs have no suitable warning placards, a clear violation of maternal government impulses. I wouldn’t want to be them when OSHA comes around!
This high-altitude desert oasis provided abundant opportunities for Xena to perfect her hunting skills. She captured a lizard and tortured it for a while, even though I cautioned her about endangering endangered species. She is a terrible rule follower and considers herself above such plebian considerations.
These canyons, located in the so-called “Canyonlands,” seem to go on forever. One could get lost…and lose oneself…if not careful.
Wouldn’t it be fun to soar off like an eagle and soak up these vistas?
Xena, the Warrior Princess, does not approve of rainy days, as you can see from her flattened ears. She wants to go out, but doesn’t want to get wet. O! Bother!
But…what can one do? Nothing but take a nap and wait for it to end.

Capitol Reef National Park. Who knew?

Did you know there is such a thing as a Capitol Reef National Park? Of course, you didn’t, because no one has heard of it before. It is worth a (short) visit if you’re in the neighborhood. Pretty drive, big rocks. They dubbed it Capitol Reefs NP as some of the rock formations look like a capitol dome and some of them looked like reefs. I suppose it is better than Big Red Cliffs National Park, but only by a little.

A lonely roadway into the lonely National Park. Except I wasn’t lonely, cuz I had a cat.
These are a fine example of the reefs part of the National Park. Some imagination is required. Because reefs are supposed to have fishes. And octopi.
Big red cliff threatens to end the road.
As a special bonus for you, dear reader, a picture of a cat. Just because this post is a little boring. Look at how dirty her paws are. She loves digging in the dirt. And bringing it all into the van.

Bryce Canyon Delights

I loved visiting Bryce Canyon National Park. Perfect weather, inspiring scenery, free dispersed camping right outside the gate. Xena had a great time climbing trees, ever vigilant for lizards, birds and squirrels.

I stayed several nights in Dixie National Forest. Fabulous, except for the dust. When the wind picked up or a (rare) vehicle drove past, clouds of red dust billowed. Additionally, the cat serves as a reverse dust mop, bringing fine red dirt into the van, distributing it liberally.

One of my camp sites, about 10 minutes from the entrance to Bryce Canyon. There were people around, but at least 1/4 mile away, so they were not too annoying.
Utahns (pronounced ooo tonz (like tongs)) are fond of these weirdly mutated cows and stock their forests with an abundance of them.
Look at this strange tree I discovered. It grows in a spiral! I call it a spiral tree.
Stunning views! Craftsmanship on an extraordinary level. Just amazing to think of the hordes of sculptors laboring with primitive tools under harsh conditions to create such a scene. We owe them a great debt.

The tall, skinny towers of rocks are called hoodoos. The Native Americans have a story…the hoodoos are petrified Legend People. They displeased the coyote god, so he turned them to stone. What a trickster!