Utah - Day 23 - Anasazi and aspen clones

Sand Creek RV Campground, Torrey

Saturday, 23 October 2021

My last morning in Cannonville, Nature celebrated with a stunning sunrise.  First I saw this:

But I was afraid my camera hadn't gotten it right so I took it again and found this:

And a minute later, it was gone.  But how lucky to have seen it.

It got down to nearly freezing last night and this morning I found that 6 of the tent sites had been used overnight.  Seems odd, but I guess people went out for a camping weekend despite the cold.

today's route

Note how much of today's drive included federally protected land.  There's a fair amount of local controversy over Biden's reimposing the protections for Bears Ears and Grand Staircase-Escalante National Monuments, and I've learned that Utahns expressed equal outrage back when Zion National Park and others were being protected.  We've all seen it happen - some interests are curtailed through actions like these while others are greatly expanded.  The tiny towns around Zion and Bryce Canyon and other tourist draws aren't complaining now, and the same is likely to happen with these national monuments.

As you can see, a good deal of today's drive took me through or alongside the northern areas of Grand Staircase-Escalante.  I can say that on this Saturday, at least, the parking areas for hiking trails were being heavily used, and the beauty of this area will make it worth the trip.

On the road

You may remember all the red I saw in Bryce Canyon, and in bits and pieces it continued to the east - as near my campground I saw lots of white mountains with a red stripe at the top and lots of deep red at the bottom.  Then at the tiny town of Henrieville, the road took me around a corner and suddenly - no more red.

I took this photo to remind myself of something I saw that I
couldn't take a photo of: a big rock like this, same color,
where the rock grain swooped upward to the right without
causing any cracks in the rock face.  I so wanted a picture of that.

And I took this photo because this is what was coming
after the road passed that rock wall in the photo above.

A mule deer crossed the road, and I carefully watched for others that might leap out in front of me.  Then I saw a sign warning to watch for open range cows, but not a word about deer.

The road took a long series of uphill s-curves, including an unlabeled switchback, while signs suggested I slow down to 30 mph, then 25 mph.  And then a sign said I'd reached an unnamed summit: 7,600'.

I was super lucky that today was overcast, because otherwise the sun rising over the mountains would have blinded me for much of the drive.

They did warn me of an Elk Xing, Next 5 Miles.  I was sorry not to see any xing elk.

As I traveled east, the road began to follow a river that might have been the Escalante River (I crossed it later on), and both road and river snaked around the mountains.  I began to see a long line of green and yellow trees that I think were cottonwoods; they certainly provided some wonderful color in this landscape.

At one point all those white clouds parted and left an opening that showed blue sky - as if I were looking through a window.  And in that window against the blue sky I saw the white moon which was just coming out of its full phase.  It was so pretty.

I passed the turn for the Escalante Petrified Forest, which I think is protected by the state, as almost the only online information I could find was about the state park of that name.  But I did find this post with some beautiful photographs of the petrified wood, if you're interested in what's there.   https://axonjaxon.com/escalante-petrified-forest

The town of Escalante is clearly trying to benefit from its proximity to all these natural wonders, and almost all I saw driving through town were tourist-related services.

From there, I kept coming to signs warning me of an 8% grade (multiples of these hills) that weren't content with just going downhill but had to include lots of s-curves on the way down.  One of those grades went between steep red walls and crossed the Escalante River amid a flourish of bright yellow cottonwoods.  It was gorgeous, but I was having to pay attention to the s-curves between those walls and the only places I could pull out were full of other people doing the same thing.

Then the road somehow seemed to be traveling along a mountain top and at places the road was so narrow it looked like the highway department had flattened just enough mountain top to fit a road onto, which was a little spooky for driving.

Along this road, Utah has put up sections of curb that seemed to be at random to me.  I couldn't figure out what they were doing where they were, and they were inconveniently placed for traffic (I hit one of them), but I finally decided they were intended to funnel rainwater to someplace less unstable than where it would have gone otherwise.

And then another 8% grade.

If you come to southern Utah, and there's much to recommend a visit, you might want to come with a 2nd person because the person who's driving can't see everything there is to see and needs someone taking photos of what they're missing.  Either the road area isn't stable enough for more pullouts or the state of Utah hasn't figured out people might want them.  Any number of times today I wanted at least a wide shoulder to stop on but couldn't find one.

Anasazi Village State Park and Museum

The state of Utah has protected a smallish partial excavation of a 900-year-old village and built a small museum to explain and display some of the archaeologists' findings.  Honestly, I found their various displays somewhat contradictory and confusing, but I'll do my best to put together an explanation of what I saw.

First, of course is Who were these people?  Oddly, despite the definite "Anasazi" name of this site, that turns out not to be not so certain.

similar but different information

"Coombs Site" is this Anasazi village.

What I think is the Ancestral Pueblo
were clearly the hippies of their time.

"Style can influence beyond its place
of origin."  Interesting insight.

These folks came . . . and then they left:

But here's a problem I had.  I found one sign that said this village was built about 1160 AD and was occupied for about 75 years.  Then here's this sign above that says a period of drought had begun about 1150 - 10 years before they got here - and that drought likely made it hard for them to stay.  And then there's this:

This sign intends to talk about the village having been burned,
but note it says the residents left in 1175, 50 years after they arrived.
Which would mean they arrived around 1125.
Which is different from arriving in 1160 and leaving after 75 years.

I understand nobody knows any of this for sure, and that's reasonable to me.  But why can't they at least get their story straight, or else say they haven't got their story straight?  I'm not trying to be nitpicky, I'm just trying to understand what they think happened, and they're not telling me.  Some of their signs say these folks were here 800 years ago while others say it was 900 years.  Huh?

But the burning of the village was interesting, especially because nobody knows why.  They think the fire was deliberate, but there's nothing to say whose deliberation it was.  

Here are some photos from the excavations to answer questions about What were their homes like?

This is a reconstruction of what they think the village included.

The charred wooden supports are easy to see.
The fire pits show these were living areas.

The lack of fire pits say these were storage
areas.  But I was confused by not seeing
any obvious entryways to these areas.

I think this was part of the excavation but includes some
reconstruction - those sticks aren't still there after so long.

The solid tan wall is the back of the museum.
They let people go inside this replica, but I
found the doorways so low and the rooms
so small as to be claustrophobic.

Note that the pit house and this replica are entirely different kinds of homes, and the archaeologists think these folks did in fact use a variety of different architectural styles, and they had some on display.

They also talked about What was their life like?

The tiny rooms and doorways
attest to their height.

Corn: The Center of Life

The other exhibits were about physical life. 
This and the next were about spiritual life.

example of a Sipapu

They had a few exhibits about art:

I didn't know they used these images as an early
Farmers' Almanac.

At left: petroglyph of bighorn sheep.
At right: pictograph of life-sized figures.

see artifacts at right

The Pouch is in the
Medicine Bowl at bottom.

And finally, they had a display of several examples of pottery found and an extensive explanation for how they pieced together potsherds.

Pottery:

Ancestral Pueblo
Flagstaff black-on-white bowl
AD 1125-1200

Potsherds:

These bits and pieces are potsherds.

pottery reconstruction

partly reconstructed piece

Despite my criticism of their factual muddle, I have to say I'm impressed at the patience, diligence and sheer hard physical labor that went into the excavation here.  The museum made it clear that only a part of the village has been uncovered, due to a lack of money to finance the work.  They say they expect their views on the people who lived here and their lives to be modified as more information is uncovered.

Back on the road

This archaeological site is at the small town of Boulder, and a sign at the museum told me the town's name came from the black rocks I'd been seeing as I drove here.

The rocks are much blacker than they look in the museum's photo and I'd wondered if they might be from some prehistoric lava flow.  This sign says I was sort of right.  And they're wide-spread in this area.

Leaving Boulder, the road started climbing and my ears started popping.  Lots of birch/aspen along the way had already lost their leaves, indicating fall is farther advanced here.

I kept seeing signs warning of open range cattle and I crossed lots of cattle guards along the drive.

I passed a horseman with 3 dogs, one of which was walking in my lane and didn't move until the rider told it to.  I had to slow down, partly because I didn't want any accidents but partly because the dog was slow to move.  No sense of self-preservation?  And the rider gave me a dirty look when I waved in passing.  Well, gee, I'm sorry I'm using his road.

I was indeed climbing and reached a labeled but unnamed summit: 9,600'.  Followed immediately by a series of downhill s-curves, a sign warning "Icy Road," and snow alongside the road.  Not reassuring.

A sign warned of a 10% grade for the next 1½ miles, then another one saying 10% grade for the next 1 mile, and a third saying 8% grade for the next 2 miles (which was actually closer to 3 miles), followed by a 4th saying 8% grade for the next 1 mile.  All of this while negotiating constant s-curves and cattle guards and signs about open range critters.

And I was very thankful my friend Paula had told me how to deal with hills like these without wearing out my brakes: use a lower gear.  Utah rarely bothers to tell drivers to use a lower gear, but I've learned to do it without prompting.  It really helps keep the downward momentum under control.

I passed Torrey, where I'll be staying tonight, but kept going because I'd heard of an unusual natural phenomenon about 30 miles farther along.  I came to a series of towns: Bicknell, "Smallest Town in the USA with Active Theater" their sign said; Lyman, where I saw a very large flock of sheep; Loa, the county seat with 518 residents.  That town was named by a Mormon missionary who had previously served in Hawaii, who said "loa" means high, large and powerful in Hawaiian, and the town is at 7,045' elevation.

Having been warned of "Frequent Wildlife Crossings Next 13 Miles," I found the road crossed lots more hills, though fortunately far fewer s-curves.  Straight road is not to be scorned.  And I came to another unnamed summit: 8,385'.

I turned off onto a lesser state highway, still climbing but back to s-curves.  This time the summit was 9,066'.

Pando Aspen Clone

And then I saw a sign saying I was entering the Pando Aspen Clone, my destination.  After driving through the aspen grove for a mile or so, I stopped when I saw a US Forest Service sign - this clone is inside Fishlake National Forest - and a small unpaved road that led nowhere.  But it gave me someplace to turn around off the road, and the dogs and I took a short walk.

Here's a photo I took:

It's hard to tell what you're looking at because almost all the leaves are off the trees, but all the way up that hill are the silvery-white trunks of aspen trees.  And they're all related - technically, they're all one tree, because they're all shoots from the same tree.

Here's a video I took:

It's not as effective as I'd hoped in showing the amazing sight I was seeing, mainly because those pale trunks don't show up well from a distance.  And this aspen grove covers 106 acres.  I found a clearly written article in the LDS's Deseret News that explains its size, what created it, how it was found and what its future is (somewhat bleak - this grove is dying).  https://www.deseret.com/worlds-largest-and-possibly-oldest-living-organism 

It's a beautiful, peaceful place that must be stunningly lovely when the trees' leaves are yellow, and that still had a quiet beauty today.

Back on the road

The hills were easier going back.  And that large flock of sheep I saw earlier?  By the time I got back, a Border Collie was lying down watching them as they were all bunched near a gate.  Efficient little guy.

A very strong cold wind had been blowing all afternoon, and when we stopped for one more short walk in Lyman, neither Dexter nor I wanted to stay out very long.  

The mountains I could see south of these small towns had snow on them.  My AAA map didn't tell me there was a mountain range there but did tell me Lookout Peak was there, elevation 11,086'.  But there seems to be a Lookout Peak near Salt Lake City and all the online information I could find was about that one which, by the way, is more than 2,000' lower than this one.  But there was snow up there, to match the cold wind, I guess.

That celebrated theater in Bicknell was offering No Time To Die, the new James Bond movie that I'd like to see.  But the next time I'll be in an area long enough to see it is when I'll be in Moab in a few days, and none of the movie theaters there is offering it.  I understand the small theaters get movies later than the bigger ones, but that movie hasn't been out all that long.  Oh well.  Maybe I'll find it somewhere in New Mexico.

The drive took me alongside more of those wonderful red cliffs.

What I didn't know then was that these cliffs are part of Capitol Reef National Park, which I planned to visit tomorrow.  It's a long narrow protected area and stretches all the way up here.  But I didn't know that.  All I knew was that I was really going to miss those red rocks when I left the area.