Liz and I decided that it would be a good idea to go camping for my birthday.  We set out from Phoenix to do a loop through Prescott, AZ up through Ash Fork to Williams, then down the dirt roads from Williams into Jerome, AZ before heading home after this short two day, one night get away. Storm clouds threatened us nearly from our door step, but we felt good that we were finally getting the little M416 Jeep trailer on the trail.  This was a project that I took on just before the table saw incident and has been a long time to completion.  She ran perfect; straight, quiet, and took the harsh beating that Arizona roads are known for.  And, this trailer setup is so light, you hardly remember that you are dragging it along.

 Our day started early and we were in Prescott for Breakfast.  We hit the store for supplies, then headed north on 89 to the town of Ash Fork.  The skies were dark and as we approached I-40, they opened up and flooded the streets.  We slowly motored up the street through what seems to be a deserted town, then picked up interstate 40 and headed for Williams.  More to come.  (Jeep Project)
More Pictures of the Trip 

This trip was a long time coming and both Liz and I are excited to be on the road last. The road out of Payson travels up on top of the Mollogon Rim which reaches into the sky some 7000 feet. On our way up, we passed through a summer storm that dropped rain in front of us most of the way up. We were greeted at the top by a double rainbow and a bright orange sky that looked as though the surrounding pines were ablaze. Not a sight unfamiliar to this area as the surrounding hills are still charred from wildfires in recent years. Thankfully the BLM is wising up and cutting down the underbrush that fuels these fires and we saw plenty of evidence of that on the way here.

Tomorrow will be a mildly long day in the truck; traveling from Overgaard, through Showlow, St. Johns, Chambers, Gallup, Albuquerque, and finally into Taos New Mexico. I’m hoping to get some great photos in and around Taos, so keep your fingers crossed for me.

Saturday, August 5th.

Man that was a long drive. I don’t know what the programmers of Streets and Trips were thinking, but the drive up into Taos took almost 8 hours. Of course we did take the back roads, but we didn’t roll into town until about 4:00 p.m. Our drive took us though a handful of rainstorms and the skies boiled around us the whole way. Roadtrips in August rock.

Our first impression of Taos was nothing like the image I have pieced together from countless photo, stories, and ski brochures that I crossed over the years. Neither was Santa Fe for that matter. As we rolled along the Rio Grande for the last 60 miles into Taos, the beauty was repeatedly interrupted by sight of a rundown doublewide and the graffiti that seems to plague inner cities but also, oddly, this country side.

I guess in my mind the landscape would mirror that of Georgia O’Keefe’s painting and have a timeless quality. Massive territorial dwellings made of adobe, the brightly painted windows that we have come to know so well from just about any Taos advertisement, or the glowing hillsides that surround the town. Don’t get me wrong, these things are all still here and in mass, but you have be prepared to pickup the trash before you take the picture or get good at cropping to avoid the tagging on the side of the building. We figured that with this being such a tourist draw, the locals and the local officials would take a bit more pride in their town.  Enough on that!

Taos touts it’s very own micro brewery; Eske’s Brewery. Purely for Liz’s professional betterment, we decided sample their offerings. We sat on the patio and listened to live music, talked, and took a bit of interest in the local’s conversations. Not your mainstream Brewhouse, Eske’s laidback atmosphere and decent brews made for a nice a relaxing start to the evening. If you sit on the patio, be sure to take note of the cascade hops growing on the trellis over the patio.

After sampling the Nut brown and the Scottish, twice, we headed across the street for a nice sit down dinner; something we had not done since we left. We can’t seem to recall the name of the place, and yes the food was that unmemorable. It’s directly across the street from Eske’s; big two story building – you can’t miss it, but we recommend trying too.

From there we went back to the Casa Benevidas Inn where we were staying. Larger that we had originally thought, this Inn is a beautiful casa right on Kit Carson road which is a block or so from the Plaza. Here the traditional adobe, big beams, large rooms and bright trim come together to make for a great hang. The maze of rooms and corridors were adorned in paintings and antique regional furniture. The breakfast the next morning was amazing. Loads of fresh fruit, great homemade granola, and simple fruit muffins that leave you craving another for the rest of the day. And, when you are filled with all this good stuff, they come take your order for breakfast. We had a egg dish that was smoothed in green chile sauce.

After breakfast we took a drive through town where I got a few good shots. We saw some interesting parts of the outskirts of Taos, but left a lot for another trip. After a couple hours, we went back to the Casa and checked out before walking up to the Plaza and hitting a few galleries. We saw good a photographer and a few good paintings, but nothing that really jumped out at us. A local winemaker was selling wine there so we bought a couple bottles to remember the area. As we wrapped up the tour of the plaza, the skies began to darken and we headed for the truck in a light rain.

We headed north out of town as the rain really started and the whole valley socked in. Just after driving out of the storm, we paused to take a picture of Taos and the mountain getting swallowed by the rain. Most of the trip was uneventful. We stopped in the San Luis valley and hiked up to the shrine they have overlooking the town. The view was fantastic and the church was small but well built and the grounds were nicely kept. We stayed just long enough for it to start raining then headed down the hill to a little coffee shop where we warmed up before hitting the road once again.

We continued north through the San Luis valley and into Forth Garland. There the rain was pouring and the skies were dark. We followed a snowplow up the road which made us wonder what was in store for us when we reached the top of La Vita pass. We crested the top with no problem and as we started down the other side, we saw the need for the snow plow. The rain in one area had overcome the drainage plugging it with debris and covering the road with mud, sticks and other mountainside items. By the time we arrived, the runoff had slowed and we were able to sneak by before the state patrol shut the road and let the plow clean up the mess. We dropped down into Walsenburg where we stopped for fuel and a good stretch. It was still pouring rain.

Westcliffe lies northwest of Walsenburg 70 miles or so on highway 69. This twisting two lane highway is one of the best roads we’ve been down. Little traffic and great scenery as you head up into the wet mountain valley. Ranch after ranch pass by as you weave your way north into Westcliffe. In one spot you pass by a huge buffalo ranch where hundreds of buffalo dot a distant hillside and make you think back to distant times when these giant animals roamed the plains.

As we neared Westcliffe, we were greeted with the familiar chirp of the cell phone indicating we had a new voicemail. It was Liz’s Uncle Jim who thought we had come in the night before and wanted to know what time tonight we were coming out for dinner. It was nearing the 5 o’clock hour and we had not yet checked into our hotel, so Liz called Jim to let him know that we would do that first then head for the ranch. We learned quickly that the cell coverage here was spotty at best. It took three attempts to relay the plans to Jim with most of the calls starting and ending in “hello.”

The Alpine - Everything was booked in town, so this was the only place open. These are simple cabins that are out of town and up on the hillside. Our porch overlooks the valley and town and is a calm and relaxing place nestled into the trees. Our cabin came with two cats who hang out on our patio rain or shine. Liz named them Morris and Andy and they have been a source of entertainment as they stalk grasshoppers and wait by the door to the cabin.

We dropped our gear and headed for the ranch which was about ten mile out on the other side of town. We were the first one to Liz’s grandmother’s house which sits in a green valley and has the traditional ranch accoutrements. Uncle Jim and the rest of the family came up about 15 minutes after we got there and I got volunteered as the BBQ operator which I was happy to have a project to focus on. We noticed the gas grill had a leak in one of the fitting and the gas was blowing out enough that you could smell it in the house. Needless to say that we would have blown the house sky high if we would have lit a match. We shut it down and Allen and Lavern, Liz’s cousin and his friend, went to get the tank they had. Between the two of the hoses, we were able to piece together the right fittings and get the grill fired up without any mayhem. I won’t bore you with the details of the rest of the night, but everyone enjoyed catching up on current events and recent history.

Monday we woke up to more rain. So far we have yet to see a day without rain which is hurting my photography efforts. Today I had planned to ask Liz to marry me while we were on a hike. Now to find the perfect spot. We hike from the cabin up through a deserted camp grounds. It was a nice hike, but lacked any real vistas that seemed necessary in making the perfect moment. We took a couple shots, then headed back to the truck to find another trail. We drove along the base of the Sangre De Cristo mountains looking for a trail marker. Signs pointed out the presents of Taylor Creek so we decided to see what that was about. A four wheel drive trail lead us up the mountain to the Rainbow trail. The road was covered with rough boulders and looked like something from a jeep convention, but we motored up with ease and parked near the trailhead.

The rainbow trail drops immediately down to Taylor Creek which was flowing well due to all the rain. Once crossing the creek, it starts up the hill towards the summit of one of the peaks in the range. We hiked along through stands of Aspen and patches of wild flowers for around a mile and gaining elevation the whole time. We finely broke out of the trees and stood on a bend in the trail looking up at the massive peaks and down at the valley below. This was the spot (12:20).

I set up the camera as I often do and framed Liz against the backdrop of the peaks. I fired a test shot, then on the second click of the shutter, I set the timer and ran to where Liz was. With ring in hand, I turned to her and asked her to marry me. In her shock, she covered her mouth with her hands and I had to tell here to put them down until the camera fired. She did, then it did, then we kissed and hugged in celebration. She was speechless and danced around lacking the words to express the moment. In the rush of the moment and with all she said, I had missed the response to the question entirely. I asked her if she had said yes, she said she did, then we hugged some more. I then suggested that she break out the cell phone and give her parents a call since they were dying trying to keep this a secret. Liz called her mom and they talked as I photographed her in the moment. Needless to say, it was a total surprise.

I wish I could say I was surprised, but the ring didn’t fit. Once I picked it up, I questioned if it would fit, but I didn’t have the time before the trip to change sizes. We will need to get it resized, but at least she loves the ring. Plus, I can stop worrying about dealing with a long quite ride home.

The rest of the day was full of phone calls and miscellaneous tasks like getting groceries before we met one of Liz’s friends for dinner. Everyone had fun there catching up on the small town gossip and reminiscing about old stories.

Tuesday, August 08, 2006

Today is sunny. After a whole trip of rain, that sentence stands by itself. We are taking an easy morning before heading into town and getting some stuff done. Last night we saw signs for hi speed internet so that will be the first hot spot we have found outside of Bison Ranch on the first night of the trip.

Tomorrow will be the last day in Westcliffe and we will hit the road early Thursday morning for Ouray. This looks to be about 200 miles depending on our route, so it will be most of the morning in the truck. We have yet to look for property, but we will talk with a local realtor today and tomorrow to get a sense of the area and prices.

Thursday, August 10, 2006 We left Westcliffe today in route to Ouray. The drive up to highway 50 was spectacular. Two lanes, no traffic, and early morning light to make it all good. We made good time into Salida, CO where we stopped for some breakfast. The town was very cool and had a laid back atmosphere and lots of outdoor sport types. After breakfast, we cruised through the historical district with was not very large and then jumped back on the road to Ouray. We motored through Gunnison and had to stop for gas. 3.35 per gallon. We didn’t stay long and headed west again to the turn off to Lake City.

I had heard about Lake City from some reports people had left online. The road took us down along the river for about 30 miles until we entered this small town at the base of the mountains. Here several streams merge and form lakes and a larger river. We stopped at the local fly shop to ask what to use and see how the fishing was. We also asked about the cutoff road that was to take us over the mountains and drop us off in the town of Ouray. There also was good fishing along Henson creek which follows the cutoff road, Engineer Pass. We started up the road and no more than 5 miles in, it began to rain. Surprise, surprise.

The road starts out gradual and well maintained. We passed through state land with patches of private property, mostly old mining claims. There were a couple notable mine ruins along the road, so if you are into that sort of thing, it’s worth the trip. Since fishing in the rain was not going to be that much fun with the gear we brought, we decided to keep heading up the road and see if the rain would break. Engineer pass climbs up to 13,000 feet, but we didn’t know that at the time. All we knew is the guy at the fly shop said you needed four wheel drive and a steady hand.

As we passed jeeps coming down off the hillside covered in dirt and mud, we started to ask for more details on the road ahead. The first guy we stopped was a big Indian in a jeep with two passengers in raingear and he was wearing a blanket. He said there was no way I would make it without high centering. The guy at the fly shop suggested Cinnamon Pass would be a bit easier, but would dump us out in Silverton instead of Ouray. I asked about that route and the guy in the jeep seemed to think that was still going to be a challenge, but figured we could make it. Seemed like the more people we talked to, the worst I felt about what was ahead. But, we were starting to see some incredible alpine meadows, the skies were starting to part, and the only other way to Ouray was back down the pass followed by three and a half hours around the mountain through Montrose. We hit a few rough spots, but really the road was not that bad.

The afternoon rains were followed but waterfalls everywhere you look and as we climbed out of the tree line, the sun began to paint all hills with gold. We were in terrain like we had never seen. At about 12,000 feet, the entered the bottom of a caldera which was overlooked by the summit of the pass. I stopped to take a panoramic picture, and Liz walked ahead to stretch her legs; after all, we had been in the truck most of the day. I took my shots, they caught back up to Liz roughly half way up the caldera and was shocked to see hundreds of sheep grazing on the alpine flora. It looked like something out of the Alps and we stopped and watched in wonder how this would be a farmer’s grazing grounds. In fact, we were often surprised by what we saw on this road. Cabins built where you wouldn’t expect one could be built. One little cabin sat beside a gorge the owners gained access via a suspension bridge. It was very cool and we couldn’t stop talking about it the rest of the trip.

The summit of Engineer pass is just under 13,000 feet. You actually continue to climb if you take Cinnamon back down, which we did. So far the road was not too tough, but with all the tough talk from the jeepers, I was waiting for the other shoe to drop around every bend. As we started out decent on Cinnamon, our GPS read out 12, 996. That’s close enough for me to consider this the first 13,000 foot peak we had ever driven over. I’m going to fast forward down the mountain as it was beautiful, but uneventful. The road was narrow and rough, but I just put the truck in four wheel low and crawled along. If you don’t like driving along steep drop-offs, I would suggest choosing a different route. As we watched the altitude on the GPS, we grew more confident that the worst was behind us and we started talking about where to stay since rain was predicted, and neither one of us wanted to camp all that bad. We talked about how cool it would be to camp at 13,000 feet in one of the alpine meadows, or near one of the alpine lakes, but in the end we decided to see if we could get a room in Ouray.

The Animas forks is essentially the beginning of the Animas river and all the streams begin to feed one central channel. It also is where the Animas ghost town and mine remains are. Roughly ten buildings and the decayed remains of the mine, Animas Fork was booming near the turn of the century. It also marked the point where we started seeing much less equipped vehicles crawling over rocks and trashing the rental company’s paint job. When we saw our first mini van, we knew Silverton was near. Ouray is 22 miles from Silverton on paved roads, but they twist and turn so much that the speeds we traveled were under 30 mph most of the way. In Ouray we checked into a hotel and rushed out to get a bite to eat before everything closed. We ate at Billy Gruff’s which has good food and beer, then went back to the hotel to unpack the truck and relax for the night.

Friday, August 11, 2006

This morning we toured Ouray. We took our time moving through some of the shops and even watched a local glass blower for a while. A sign to a local art exhibit caught our eye so we spent some time waking though some good and some not so good art. Ouray is a quaint little town that sits in the crux of red mountain pass. If you are ever in the area, it’s worth a visit. We drove through Silverton on our way to Durango and picked up a map and some advise for fishing on the trip into Durango. Lime creek was the recommendation which is a 6 mile loop off the main road. Yes, it was rough and dirt. About two miles in the road drops to the creek and we geared up and hit it. I gave Liz a brief lesson on casting and we walked up the shallow stream. The fish were there and I go one bite, but caught none. We got frustrated with the tight casting lane which was not a good spot to teach Liz how to fly fish. We decided to hang it up about the time it started to rain and figured that we might give it another go in Durango on some more open water.

The drive back into Durango was wet.

Our trip started on Saturday and took us out through Globe and Superior, the later of which I think is a real estate investment boom waiting to happen.  We cruised up route 88 which is a lonely stretch of asphalt that traverses through the outer fringe of the Superstition Mountains before spitting us out at the top of Roosevelt Lake.  

The plan was to camp on top of a mesa overlooking the lake and with any luck, we would have the place all to ourselves.  The recent and abundant rains had lifted any chance of fire restrictions and we have a bed full of wood to burn – good old fashion camping. Eventually route 88 turns to 288 and with that came a gravel road. I think the last time I was on gravel was the Escalante trip in September of 2003, so it felt good to hit a little washboard and feel the back end break free every now and again. Save a few trucks with ATV down in the flats by Roosevelt, we seemed to be the only caretakers of this sprawling section of the superstitions. As we climbed out of the Roosevelt gorge, the landscape began to change with elevation. Scrub Mesquite and saguaros were slowly replaced with field grasses, pinion pines and the occasional blooming century plant.   

Eventually the canyon the road follows gave way to the first plateau and giving us our first really look at the valley and lake below.  How could it be that we had never been to this part of Arizona we wondered as we slowly meandered across the first 2000 foot tall shelf over looking the lake? Our goal was forest route 488 which came highly recommended for its vistas and dispersed camping that dotted it’s perimeter.

As we approached the turn onto 488, we locked in the hubs so we can crawl around the vehicle parked at the intersection.  Almost immediately after turning onto FR488 you are greeted by oversized cottonwoods, a creek (Spencer I believe,) and a couple nice camping spots.  If you don’t have the ground clearance and don’t mind being only 50 meters or so from the less that busy main road, this spot’s for you.  We continued on, passing the hikers and traveling down the sometimes muddy and rutted road until we reached the end of the trail.  I must say, we were not all that impressed with the site.  Essentially a gravel cul-de-sac with little else for landscape.  We stretch our legs, looked over the cliff for a couple minutes, then spotted another mesa that looked like it was covered in field grasses and pinion pines.

We set out to find access to these golden fields and after a mile or so of backtracking, we entered mesa number two. The unmarked road was about the same as 488 with the exception of following a creek.  We twisted and turned up the road until we came to a stop at the point of the mesa overlooking the lake, valley, and a majestic view of Four Peaks. This would be home for the night.

Shasta, our dog, was happy to get out of the truck.  Clearly all the new smells overwhelmed her as she ran from edge to edge sniffing everything in between.  We unloaded the truck then sat on what seemed to be the edge of the world overlooking the ancient scenery that was so new to us.

After sunset we built a fire and began cooking in the Dutch oven. I have yet to master this process, but was able to produce some tasty salsa chicken on a bed of potatoes, carrots, and onions.  We ate, sat back, and watched the nearly full moon rise over our heads while pondering how to do this more often.  Eventually the wind picked up and we decided it was time to crash.

The next morning, we took a short hike and shot some pictures.  Pecan french toast was next on the list and after a short while with the stove, we were back on our perches eating breakfast and ease-dropping on the new day settling into the valley below.

We broke camp and made the decision to head up the mountain instead of down.  Up takes you into the town of Young and if you continue on, to the Mogollon Rim East of Payson. We actually just wanted to make a stop at Workman Creek Falls where there was supposed to be a spectacular falls. As we climbed, the arid landscape once again gave way to the new flora of tall pines, cottonwoods, and oaks.  After about 30 minutes of climbing, we crested the mountain and began to descend into a forest that was like none I’ve seen in Arizona.  Thick and lush with deep green firs, we realized this was not the typical ponderosa pine forests of the northern part of the state.  

Workman creek was deserted as we pulled up. Just us and the creek and what appeared to be the absence of a trail.  We packed up the camera gear and headed cross country to find the falls.  After a bit of tough hiking across the steep slope of the canyon, we arrived at a series of small waterfall. I shot pictures and Liz made a snowman in a section of melting snow – evidence of the last storm. After a little while, we hiked back, jumped in the truck, and continued up across four more peaks, through the town of Young, beside the aftermath of a past fire season and eventually to the terminus of route 288. 

Route 288 intersects highway 260 which cuts across the Mogollon Rim and connects Payson and Snowflake. We were tired and still a long way from home, but at least we had asphalt the rest of the way. We stopped for grub on the way out of Payson and made great time back to the valley; arriving just in time to watch the sun set over South Mountain.   

Sometimes you just need to get away to process life, gain perspective, and see something new.  You might as well get out there, because if you wait, you’ll only be one year older when you do.

I left Phoenix about 7:30 am and was in Flagstaff by 9:30.  There I did some chores before moving on the Page/Lake Powell area.  I arrived at the horse shoe bend of the Colorado around 2:00 pm and loaded up the camera gear for the short hike over the hill.  I struggled to get the whole scene in with my wide angle lens and was shocked to find out that you practically need to shoot strait down over a cliff to get the shot.  I think the right lens would be a 8 – 10 mm fisheye if you are shooting digital.  I may stop on the way back and shoot the film body to make sure I get it. 

I’m sitting on a cliff that must be 2000 feet above Lake Powell watching the sun set over my shoulder and lighting afire the canyon walls before me.  This was a nice surprise with today’s flat skies.  Water is extremely low exposing much of the low level shoreline. It’s pretty clear that we are suffering from a wide scale drought.    My lookout is known as Alstrom Point and proved a difficult find even with the modern technology of GPS.  I learned really fast that none of the trails are marked, blowing 40 minutes past the turn towards my eventual camp.  The trail twisted up and over the crest of the badlands in the Escalante Staircase making for a spectacular vista and the first opportunity to use the four wheel drive. 

It’s dark now and the stars are waking up to overpower the glow from the laptop.  The milky-way is straight overhead and paints a path from horizon to horizon.  Tonight, I will sleep under this blanket of stars and rise early to make the two plus hour off-road trip to the Paria Canyon ranger station in efforts to be chosen for a permit to the Coyote Buttes area for the following day.  My plan is to hike Paria Canyon and the intersecting Buckskin Wash which is said to have ample photo ops.   

I count six houseboats beneath me and their glow is the only reference to the lake now.  Temperatures peaked in the mid 80’s today and now it’s cooling off nicely with a slight breeze.  It’s 8:45 pm mountain time.  Good thing the ranger at the BLM station pointed out that they were an hour ahead or I would have missed the permit process tomorrow.   

Tonight’s chores consist of load the 4×5 film backs because I forgot to do this last night before I left.  Could be worse, I could have forgot the film.  Tomorrow night I hope to capture some long exposures, or who knows, maybe I’ll do some tonight.

9/22/2003

Today started early.  Got up before the sun and stopped the star trail shot that I began around 9 pm the night before after loading the film backs.  Looks like the moon rose straight up in the middle of the picture which will cause a big white stripe along its path.   

Loading went faster than expected, but the static under the sleeping bag looked like a small electrical storm.  I hope that I didn’t expose the film.  I will try the star trails again tonight, this time facing away from the moon, which is rising at about 1 in the morning. 

Got lost four wheeling in the dark on the edge of Alstrom Point in route to the ranger station for my lucky permit.  I figured as long as I kept left, I would stay out of Lake Powell. 

Made the Paria station in time for the permit lottery, but as it would turn out, roughly 25 people showed up and I did not get a permit.  Should have been here yesterday they said.  Oh well, I’m on vacation and have the time to try again, so tomorrow we’ll do it all over.  I think I will set camp a little closer this time.

I could have picked up a permit to Coyote Buttes south, but the ranger at the BLM strongly recommended a place called Buckskin Wash since I had never been.  Wow!  The pictures should speak for themselves.  The slot was so tight in spots that you had to turn sideways to pass.  The

stone layers and formations in the slot did not disappoint.  I even took the 4×5 in a pack and shot a couple frames, wasted one (I think the film was loaded wrong).  The hike was around 4 miles each direction and for the most part flat.  The 90 degree temperatures dipped into the 70 within the slot and made for a nice 5 hour excursion.  My shoulders are killing me from lugging that 4×5 camera that far.  Let’s hope the pictures turn out. 

So my new plan is to wait out a permit for the Coyote Buttes area, or at least give it one more try.  If I get the permit tomorrow, I will probably do the south Coyote Buttes area just to stay close.  Maybe a little Paria Canyon too.  The choices in this area seem endless, so I won’t be bored.

So where am I now?  Well I drove about 70 miles east to pick up a cell signal and upload this report. I figured that I could connect in Kanab, but no dice so I drove on.  It’s really incredible country; red rock mesas parallel the road all the way to where I sit now.  It’s 6:30 pm Utah time and the sun is still reasonably high in the sky, maybe leaving me enough time to catch some shots of sunset. 

9/23/2003

So I guess I need to catch you up.  I’ve been in the back country for the past couple days.  Yesterday I attended the second drawing for the Coyote Buttes permit.  Having to be at the rangers office at 9:00 just kills the morning light, but I woke up late anyway.  After driving back from the St George area where I uploaded the last post, I four wheeled up above the ranger station off the Cottonwood Canyon road.  It was close, but remote due to the trail I took to get there.  No Import trucks on this road:)

I arrived at the ranger’s office around 8:45 and they started the drawing at 9:00.  The first winner was a solo hiker and then there were nine left.  The second name drawn was for a party of four, followed by another party of four.  That only leaves one!!  I think I was getting a lesson in faith.  The good news is that parties who had two or more hikers pulled out since they could only get one permit.  The next name drawn was not me and my stomach sank.  But wait, he was not there, so they drew another name and it was very familiar.  I was going to Coyote Buttes on Wednesday. Woo hoo!!

After reveling in my little victory, I decided to head for Harris Wash for a long day hike to the Zebra slot canyon and the tunnel.  I drove north on the cottonwood road two hours to Cannonville and on to Escalante where I stopped in at the BLM office to get any tips for the area.  The ranger suggested that both Zebra and the tunnel were flooded from the last rain storm.  So I changed plans and went to lower Calf Creek falls.  The hike was 3 miles each way and a lot of it in sand which I’m getting use to hiking through (most of the trails are through sand at one point or another.)  the picture will give you an idea of the falls.

 I smoked the return trip of the Calf canyon hike to get back to a lookout West of Escalante for sunset.  I drove, I set up the camera, I waited, and waited, then this haze rolled in with the wind and my picture would have been crap – so I loaded back up and set a land speed record back to Cannonville and into Kodachrome Basin where I enjoyed the luxury of a campground with running water, showers, and someplace to throw away the trash.  Is this what being homeless feels like?  I opened the cooler only to find that the film for the 4×5 camera had a leak in the ziplock and the bag and the film cases were soaked.  It was the unused film and the shots that I took when I backpacked the camera down Buckskin wash.  I guess it wasn’t meant to be.  I had my star trail shots in my camera bag, so they were safe, and I had three film backs that may or may not have taken on water.  I guess I’ll only know in processing.

 9/24/2003

9/26/2003

 I figured that there was no way I could get a 30 second exposure without someone walking into the frame, so I threw my gear over my shoulder and left Antelope Canyon for another day. 

Off to Monument Valley.  This was roughly an hour and a half trip from Antelope and through some barren and lonely desert.  I arrived in Monument and scoped out the camp sites, which were meager at best, but came equipped with great views.  I then took the drive down through the valley which is a dirt road full of tour jeeps and rented RVs.  Not as bad as Antelope, but I would not be surprised if one day, the only way to see monument is in a guided tour.  The money’s not in the entrance fee, it’s in the shuttle and the guide.  I tried to acquire a private guide to take me to a couple of places off the beaten path, but the only guides were the jeep tours where you and 20 of your closest strangers can rid along and ooh and ahh at the same things.  No thanks.   

I did the loop at about 4 pm or two hours before sunset.  I was amazed by how these monuments to time stood tall amidst the clear remnants of their fallen brothers.  The formations were similar to what I had seen all week, but in their own way, different – independent.   There is no doubt that Monument Valley has the kings of buttes and mesas which is highlighted by there isolation from one another.  I shot 60 – 70 frames and returned to the camp site to begin setting up the 4×5 to capture the two mittens at sunset.  I selected the camp site for this purpose and labored over the camera to get both buttes in focus, which is quite a challenge with a 4×5 camera.  Now all I had to do is wait for sunset… and wait… and wait.  Finally it’s getting to be just about time to shoot my picture, and a group of 20 or so people pile out of a van in began to set up camp right in the way.  There was a couple that walked out onto a point and into my scene, so I walked over and asked if I could get them to move for a second.  They did and I started to set up the shot.  They walked over and we started talking, and before we knew it, the rest of the group had pitched tents in the way.  Oh well, not my shot I guess.  Nice couple from Germany.  I’m not sure, but I think the whole country gets the month of September off to tour the Southwest.  I met one couple the whole trip that did not speak with a German accent.  Must be some fascination with the southwest.  They were all having a blast so more power to them.   

I shot stars that night and got up early to shoot sunrise over the Mittens before doing a morning light circuit of the valley.  The road through the valley runs west to east, so the evening light is opposite of the morning.  For this reason, I would recommend two trips through the valley; one in the evening and again the next morning. 

 After the morning loop, I packed up camp and began the four hour trip to Sedona where I was suppose to meet some friends for a weekend campout.  (read with guilt – you know who you are   Arrived in Flagstaff around 11 and checked voicemail which indicated that the camping was off.  After 6 days on the road, I didn’t shed a tear to come home and sleep in my bed.  I would have been nice to stay in Flagstaff for the night since the leaves are beginning to change colors, but I made the two hour trip south to Phoenix. 

It’s probably a good thing that I have the weekend to recover as I’ve been running pretty hard this past week.  I’ve watched the sun rise and set each of the past five days hoping to capture the perfect image. I don’t know if that exists, but to try is most of the fun.  I’ve logged 1,377 miles which is roughly the distance from Phoenix to Seattle or half way to Boston – All while staying in Arizona and Utah.  Many of the miles were off road, and some I ran like I was racing in the Baja.  Ever heard of a controlled four wheel slide?  I’m still amazed that I didn’t flat on some these roads and the Ford took everything I threw at her.  I even got airborne a couple times.  No I mean airborne – going back and picking up your stuff airborne.  Running 50 mph into that whoop that you didn’t see and watching all of your gear defy the laws of gravity is priceless.  I just turned 30,000 miles on this trip so I guess it’s time for a little warranty work.  Hmm, I think I hear a knock in the chassis and I’m not sure, but the alignment may be off…