Utah - Day 26 - in Green River campground

Green River State Park, Green River

Tuesday, 26 October 2021

This was a comfortable place, though not as large as the dogs would have liked - fewer places for us to walk.  A big chunk of the park was a golf course, and it seemed like every time I'd find an area we'd like to walk in, we'd see a sign saying "Golf Course Boundary - No Pets."  I'm thinking it's the fault of owners who don't clean up after their dogs - dog poop might spoil someone's lie-up for the hole.

But what it did have in abundance were cottonwoods turned to a beautiful gold.

I kept remembering that poem that begins, "October is the treasurer of the year."  It's one of my favorite poems and I'll put it all in at the end of this post.

The day we spent here didn't seem nearly long enough for me.  I wanted very much to be catching up on my posts, but I knew the next campground would have connectivity challenges.  The last 4 days of this month I'll be down in Monument Valley, and the campground's website states clearly that phone signals are spotty at best and the campground's wifi signal isn't too strong.  So I spent my day here, where I had both phone and internet, trying to clarify my early New Mexico travel plans.  

The problem is potential bad weather.  For instance, one of the closest campgrounds to the Capulin Volcano I want to visit in northeastern NM is the Raton KOA.  And New Mexico's state road status website says I-25 is temporarily closed between Raton and the Colorado border due to heavy snow.  Well, I'm coming into New Mexico from the northwest near Farmington, which is where the closest CVS is, which is where I told the Moab doctor to send my blood pressure meds.  

Farmington looks doable, but when I tried to find routes across northern New Mexico for (a) seeing the scenery and (b) getting to the volcano, I kept finding the only routes either went across high mountains that host ski resorts or went many many miles out of the way.  I finally ended up plotting 2 routes - Plan A and Plan B - depending on the weather.  And I may find the only option is Plan C - forgetting the whole thing and going straight south from Farmington to Albuquerque and hope better weather arrives.

I'm willing to be flexible, of course, but sometimes things are a little more fluid than I'm comfortable with.  Well, I'll just have to wait and see.  But all that planning took much of today.

I saw a motorhome with Texas plates in the campground and stopped to talk to the woman.  She said they weren't really from Texas, but that's where their new official address is.  She said they'd gotten their RV about 15 months ago (apparently one of the COVID RV converts) and they'd found a group called Escapees Club.  This group provides mail service and helps RV owners establish residency in states that make things easy for RVers.  Besides Texas, the others are South Dakota and Florida.  I knew there was a reason I was seeing so many South Dakota license plates everywhere, and this must be it.

This woman said they'd chosen Texas because the Escapee Club HQ is there, which seemed to make it easier for them to handle the paperwork.  In case you're curious, I found an article online that explains how a couple from California decided to full-time it and how they became Texans through this club.   https://www.escapees.com/becoming-texans  Weird to think of.  Some of us became Texans the hard way - through growing up there.

So the only real event of the day was the beautiful fall color in the cottonwoods.


October

by Paul Lawrence Dunbar

October is the treasurer of the year,
And all the months pay bounty to her store;
The fields and orchards still their tribute bear,
And fill her brimming coffers more and more.
But she, with youthful lavishness,
Spends all her wealth in gaudy dress,
And decks herself in garments bold
Of scarlet, purple, red, and gold.
She heedeth not how swift the hours fly,
But smiles and sings her happy life along;
She only sees above a shining sky;
She only hears the breezes’ voice in song.
Her garments trail the woodlands through,
And gather pearls of early dew
That sparkle, till the roguish Sun
Creeps up and steals them every one.
But what cares she that jewels should be lost,
When all of Nature’s bounteous wealth is hers?
Though princely fortunes may have been their cost,
Not one regret her calm demeanor stirs.
Whole-hearted, happy, careless, free,
She lives her life out joyously,
Nor cares when Frost stalks o’er her way
And turns her auburn locks to gray.

Utah - Day 25 - a drive to Moab

Green River State Park, Green River

Monday, 25 October 2021

today's route

For once, Google and I agreed on how long a drive was, mainly because most of it was on US-191 where the speed limit was 65 mph, which I'm comfortable with.  The drive took me right at an hour.

I had a doctor appointment in Moab at 9:20 and, because I didn't know how long the drive would take me and didn't want to be late, we left the campground just after 7:00 while it was still dark.  Technically, it should have been daylight, because sunrise was a half hour away, but it wasn't daylight.  In fact, it was still so dark that I took I-70 at 55 mph and left my emergency flashers on to warn other drivers.  I was just afraid I'd hit some dumb deer that decided to jump out in front of me.  Fortunately, that didn't happen, and when I turned onto US-191, day was breaking.

I saw an Alaska license plate that said "XIPLIN."  I know I'm slow but I still haven't figured it out, so if you do, please let me know.

Moab sits in a valley, and there's a long drive downhill with huge red cliffs first only on the west side, but then on both sides right up to the road.  It felt like I was driving into a canyon and of course the road started making lots of blind turns.  Then it opened up a bit for the entrance to Arches National Park, which I wanted to visit later today.

Moab has likely been the largest town in this area of the state for quite a while, but it's clear the town is now capitalizing on the popularity of its surroundings.  I saw nonstop tourist stuff - hotels and guided tours and so forth.

I passed something called US Dept. of Energy Umtra Project - Public Not Allowed.  Which of course made me curious.  Umtra stands for Uranium Mill Tailings Remedial Action.  Which sounds like a good idea.  So why would the public be barred?

The Moab Family Medical Clinic was housed in the Moab Regional Hospital building.  The people were fairly pleasant, the PA who saw me was very patient and a good listener and glad I'd brought a copy of the blood test they'd done on me in Greybull, WY.  I agreed to take another one here, of course, and she said she'd decide based on the results whether to re-up my blood pressure meds.  It's my sodium levels, see.  Absolutely crazy to be one of the only people in the world who has medical professionals begging me to eat more salt.  Note that this is not a complaint.

From there I stopped at the state liquor store - closed at 11:00 - maybe they don't open on Mondays?  And I stopped at a grocery store - jam packed, which made me nervous.  Lots of businesses in Utah require masks, including this one, but people aren't very conscientious about how they comply, so I get nervous around crowds, despite wearing a mask myself and being vaccinated.

And from there we went to Arches National Park, where I got a surprise.  Signs saying "Park Full."  "Come Back in 3-5 Hours."  "No access to anything regardless of pass, permit or reservation."  That last part seemed weird.  If I had a reservation at the campground here, they were saying I couldn't go to it?  It was already 1:00 or so in the afternoon and 3-5 hours from then seems pretty late to be allowed access to the campsite you'd have already paid for.  Anyway, I found a tiny area where I could let the dogs out for a bit and then we drove back to Green River.

Utah - Day 24 - Capitol Reef National Park

Green River State Park, Green River

Sunday, 24 October 2021

Last night's campground at Torrey was a private one and very strange.  For instance, the only trash receptacles were located at the entrance, while the exit was on a separate street altogether.  The management was being very careful to avoid any contact with campers: they called down to me from a 2nd story porch to tell me where my site was and what the rules were.  First time that's happened.

I'd seen two of the campers + pickup trucks in the parking lot at the Anasazi Museum yesterday - I recognized them because the campers were almost identical, the pickups were almost identical, and both had New Mexico license plates.  Two couples (I saw them) traveling together separately.

today's drive

Capitol Reef National Park

You can see on the map that the park's boundary starts right after Torrey, but the official entrance was 11 miles from the campground.  The thin line you can see going down into the park was an 8-mile scenic drive.  But several miles before I got that far, I saw some amazing scenery.

just your basic roadside sight

Twin Rocks

Chimney Rock
(look at how it's balanced)

The Fluted Wall, part 1

The Wall, part 2

But the Fluted Wall is bigger than these 2 photos, so I took this video.  I don't know how to adjust the brightness on the videos so it's a bit dim in the beginning, but then the sunlight brightens it part way through.

And with the next photo, you'll be able to see that the Fluted Wall continued even farther.

That's The Castle on top.

One of the main reasons this park was established was to protect something called the Waterpocket Fold.  From the park's various handouts, I think I understand what that is, though it wasn't at all what I expected.

There are 19 layers of rock in this area, that began with white sandstone laid down 290 million years ago in the Permian Era, and ended 65 million years ago in the Cretaceous Era with something called Tarantula Mesa Sandstone.  Then around 50-70 million years ago, tectonic plate movements activated an ancient buried fault that lifted the rock layers on the fault's west side more than 7,000' above those on the east side.  But instead of splitting, the layers folded over the fault line.  ("Fold."  Get it?)  It's now called the Waterpocket Fold because the erosion that created the rock formations also created potholes - pockets - that collected rainwater and snowmelt.

The rock folding, with one side so much higher than the other, is called a monocline.  The fold here is the longest exposed monocline in North America - around 90 miles long.  The west side, which is what I saw first, is much higher than the east side.

Here's where the park's name came from:

Capitol

Reef

To me there's not much difference between the hills shown from the east (above) and those I took photos of from the west.  But to geologists, apparently there's a world of difference.

I drove only halfway down the scenic drive, mainly because it was a very narrow road that was hard for me to drive on - and frustrating because there weren't nearly as many places to pull off for photos as I wanted.  These are 3 I took of that section of the park.

Look at the color variations on the rock face.

This shows some of the many rock layers that were exposed.

This photo looks like it was painted by a
follower of the Hudson River school. 

Here's the thing: when I first started to see these rocks, my jaw dropped open and stayed that way for a long time.  These photos don't begin to convey how stunning this place is.  Compared to here, Zion and Bryce are just pretty scenery, and I'm really sorry I don't have the photographic skill to show the difference.  But if you ever come to southern Utah, don't overlook Capitol Reef National Park.

I couldn't get any photos of something they call "ribbon rock" where the colors show up in a wavy pattern.  The park says that shows prehistoric river flows.  The park also includes a long series of low water crossings that I'm pretty sure are connected to the feature they called "Grand Wash."  There was an unpaved road that led into that area and a sign: "Do Not Enter If Storm Threatening."  I'm guessing flash floods happen in that area, though the whole system looked bone dry when I was there.

We stopped in an official picnic area, where lots of other people were walking their dogs too.  We found massive amounts of deer droppings, and a large number of horseapples that had obviously fallen, unappreciated, from the tree they surrounded.

Back on the road

We continued our drive eastward, though we didn't actually leave the park boundaries for some miles.  We passed parking areas (full of cars) for Historic Fruita (remains of a small Mormon settlement from the late 1800s); petroglyphs from the Fremont Culture, that can be seen from boardwalks; Hickman Natural Bridge, where the parking lot was more than overflowing - a popular hiking area - the bridge itself is about 2 miles along the trail, is 133' long and 125' high but sits 300' above the Fremont River and is one of many natural bridges along those trails.  The Fremont River, by the way, had a surprising amount of water in it, considering the drought this area's been experiencing.

I didn't stop for those things.  Instead what I saw were the park's east side rocks.

Look pretty different from the west side, don't they?

These white rocks came right up to the road in places, as you can see, and reminded me of a ball of bread dough a giant had been kneading.  Very smooth.

All along the road I saw lots of yellow cottonwoods, brightening up what you can see was an overcast day.

I can't find information about these next things I saw, but I saw a lot of it.

This might be part of the Upper Blue Hills, though I can't
get a straight answer online.

As you could see in the previous photo, these hills look 
like a giant has been sand/gravel mining and left all
these mounds.  But they're hard rock, not sand.
Sandstone, maybe.

This seems to be Factory Butte, from what I can find online.
And it is sandstone.

There were many odd geological features out this way - in the Caineville-Hanksville area - and I can't find anybody to tell me what I saw.  There was an area of towers of dark pink and chocolate.  There was an area that looked like a bunch of Bundt cakes.  There were rock formations that reminded me of the corals I'd seen in Cozumel.  There were mountains that looked white with currant jelly drizzled over their tops.

There was an area called Swing Arm City, an OHV area that looked popular.

I saw lots of horsemen/Border Collie combos.

I passed the road to Goblin Valley State Park, famous for its "goblin-like hoodoos."  Hoodoos are what Bryce Canyon had in abundance.  I pulled this photo off the internet to give you an idea.

Then we crossed the Green River and went into the town of Green River, "The Waypoint to Wild," they say.  The town didn't look too wild - in fact, the local grocery store was closed at 3:00 on a Sunday afternoon.  But I guess they mean the natural surroundings. 

And then to the Green River State Park for the night.

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.