Category Archives: Nature

Aug13

Pothole Point Trail

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Pothole Point in the Needles District of Canyonlands National Park was the first trail The Lady of the House and I hiked on our epic road trip in Arizona and Utah. At just .6 mile, it was a good way to start.

Pothole Point Trail is named for the indentions in the rock which are known as “potholes.” After a rain, each pothole is an ecosystem of various snails, beetles, worms, and shrimp which have hatched from eggs or emerged from dormancy.  Each ecosystem is fragile, and visitors are encouraged to keep hands and feet out of the potholes. Even when the indentions are dry, eggs may be lingering in them, waiting for a rain so they can hatch. Other creatures may also be in the potholes, also waiting for rain to move into the next phase of their lifecycle. A hand or especially a foot in a pothole could crush delicate life.

We were lucky to see these potholes filled with water.

The Lady and I were really lucky; all the rain the night before had filled the potholes. We were both excited to see the potholes filled with water; they really stood out when wet.

The hike was mostly across bare rock. The trail was marked by cairns (pronunced \ ˈkern \) because there was no visible path of well-worn dirt or trampled vegetation as one might see in a forest or desert. All we could do to navigate was follow small piles of rocks. It was my first hike with only cairns to guide me.

A cairn marking the trail.

Visitors are asked not to build cairns of their own because too many cairns or cairns built in the wrong places can be confusing to hikers. Unfortunately there were many unofficial cairns along the trail. Fortunately, The Lady was really good at navigating and kept us on the trail. Had I been alone, I might still be wandering around from one pile of stones to another, never finding the way back to my van.

Not only does the trail take hikers across bare sandstone, there’s very little shade along the way. I was glad for my big hat and glad we were hiking on a spring morning. I would not have enjoyed this hike nearly as much had I been doing it at midday in the summer.

The Lady and I took frequent water breaks, thanks to her reminders.

The trail wasn’t crowded, probably because our visit occurred before the high tourist season of Memorial Day to Labor Day. I absolutely encourage anyone who can manage it to do their exploring of any tourist attraction during the off-season.

Pothole Point Trail is a loop, and I was glad to see my van when we circled back around. I enjoyed the scenery and the company, but I was glad to get out of the sun and take a little break while driving us to the second hike on our itinerary. Next stop: Cave Spring Trail.

Some of the scenery we saw while hiking Pothole Point Trail.

I took the photos in thie post.
Aug6

Canyonlands National Park, The Needles District

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The Lady of the House and I woke up in Superbowl Campground to a beautiful view. It was difficult to believe any rock formation could be redder or more beautiful, but The Lady just smiled knowingly. She’d never visited The Needles District, but she’d been to Arches National Park and the Island in the Sky District of Canyonlands the previous summer. She knew there was a lot more fantastic ahead of us.

After eating breakfast and cleaning up, we got on the road to the Needles District of Canyonlands. We showed The Lady’s Southeast Utah Parks Pass at the admission booth, then stopped at the visitor center to plan our day. We decided to drive the scenic loop, stopping at overlooks and going on two hikes—Pothole Point Trail and Cave Spring Trail. While these two hikes weren’t the longest or most strenuous in the Park, at .6 miles each, they were long enough for me. We also planned to do the very short (.3 mile) Roadside Ruin Trail on our way out of the Park.

I was in awe at the wondrous formations we could see from the visitor center. Again, The Lady indicated You ain’t seen nothing yet, and we set out on our driving tour.

I was in awe from the moment I got out of the van at the Needles District visitor center.

The first magnificent formation I saw didn’t even have a name.

This is Wooden Shoe Arch. It really looks like a wooden shoe! Nature is incredible.

What’s it called? I kept asking The Lady. Why doesn’t it have a name?

Certainly something this majestic deserved a name.

The first named formation we stopped to see was Wooden Shoe Arch. It was my first arch, and it really did look like a wooden shoe! Erosion is an amazing phenomenon.

Next we drove to the Confluence Overlook Trailhead, which was at the far end of the loop. We had no plans to hike the 10 mile trail, but we did walk around the area near where we had parked, and we looked out over the vast wonder of nature. It was scary to stand on the edge of a massive drop-off, but feeling like a tiny bug that could be swallowed by the earth does put the human experience into perspective.

The Lady stands on the edge. It may look as if she could step down to the next level of ground, but in reality she was way high up and the ground was way down below.

Both the Pothole Point Trail and The Cave Spring Trail were a bit strenuous for a couch potato like me, but I certainly enjoyed the sights I saw along both trails. (Each of these adventures warrants a future individual blog post.)

My first ladder.

My most memorable moment in The Needles District was descending my first trail ladder. This event occurred on The Cave Spring Trail. I tend to be clumsy, so I took things slow and made it down with no problem.

As planned, we walked the Roadside Ruin Trail on our way out of the Park. It was a short and easy trail, more of a stroll than a hike, and perfect for the end of the day. We dashed up, saw the relic,

one of the region’s many ancient granaries – used by various Native American cultures who cultivated corn, beans, and squash when the climate in the area was wetter,

according to the Modern Hiker website. The Lady and I agreed it was cool, but we were tired, hungry, and ready to go, so  we returned to the van for our drive to Moab.

The aforementioned Modern Hiker article says, “…this granary – built sometime between 1270 and 1295 CE – is particularly well-preserved (and is also unique in that it’s accessed via a door on top of the granary instead of the sides).”

I took all the photos in this post, except for the photo of myself. The Lady took that one.
Jul2

Meteor Crater Natural Landmark

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I took this photo on the road to the Meteor Crater Natural Landmark complex the first time I tried to visit in 2015.

I’d planned to visit Meteor Crater Natural Landmark once before. I’d taken exit 233 and driven nearly 6 miles to the parking lot. I’d even gone into the visitor center, but when I saw the price of admission, I turned around and left.

I’d budgeted $10 to see this roadside attraction. I probably would have splurged and spent $12, but when I saw the price of admission was $18, I went back to my van and got back on the road. I doubted looking at a crater would be worth $18.

The Lady of the House thought this story was hilarious.

She’d never seen the meteor crater either, but her son, The Boy (now a grown man in his 20s), had visited some years ago on a field trip. The Boy had been quite impressed by the crater during a time in his life when he was not easily impressed. (Upon visiting the Grand Canyon as a child, all The Boy could say was, I hate this stupid Grand Canyon; his favorite part of the trip was the ride on a shuttle bus from the parking lot to a scenic viewpoint.)

He just kept talking about how big it was, The Lady said of her son after his visit to Meteor Crater Natural Landmark.

The crater wasn’t originally on our trip itinerary. We hadn’t planned to be on I-40 at all, but waiting for my van’s water pump to be replaced delayed us by four days. We cut the New Mexico portion of our trip out entirely, which meant we had to get to Utah by a different route.

Since we’d be on I-40, The Lady really wanted to see the meteor crater.

You pay the $10 you budgeted when you stopped before, The Lady told me, and I’ll pay the $8 difference.

I told her it was a deal.

The Meteor Crater website said guided tours were available. I called the Meteor Crater office and found out the guided tours were included in the price of admission. I always like to take a guided tour if it doesn’t cost extra. I find I learn more from a tour guide than I do if I’m left to my own devices reading informational placards.

The night before our visit to the crater, we boondocked off I-40 between Flagstaff and Winslow, just outside Walnut Canyon National Monument. We’d hoped to arrive at the crater in time for the first tour at 9:15 in the morning, but we were running late. In retrospect, we were glad we’d missed the first tour because when we arrived, we still had time to use the (clean) restroom, buy a few souvenirs in the (well-lit, neatly arranged, not overpriced) gift shop, and watch the (entertaining, informative) short documentary IMPACT! The Mystery of Meteor Crater.

This photo shows the entrance to the Meteor Crater Natural Landmark complex.

Before we did any of those things, we had to pay the admission fee.

The worker who greeted us at the door was all smiles. She welcomed us and pointed to the sign above the box office where she said we’d see the prices listed. We already knew the prices (they’re on the internet, as The Lady said to me later, thus a matter of public record), so when The Lady walked up to the box office, she chirped Two, please! and didn’t balk when the ticket seller asked for $36.

A young couple walked in right behind us. I’d noticed them in the parking lot. They looked like neo-hippies, or at least the man did. He had long hair and a big beard and wore baggie pants that probably allowed him to do the sun salutation in the morning and wrap his legs around a djembe at the drum circle at night. The woman looked less like a hippie and more like a Whole Foods athletic urbanite in a tank top and those hiking leggings that are in fashion with women who engage in outdoor sports.

The fellow was talking to the greeter. I wasn’t following their conversation, but I heard the fellow say $18? in surprise. He lady friend echoed $18? in pure disbelief. I thought it was really funny that the couple was having the same reaction I’d had during my first brief visit.

The greeter must have confirmed the $18 admission fee. Then the fellow seemed to be asking if there were a place they could look at the crater for free; I’d had that same thought during my first visit. The greeter must have told them there was no free viewing because the couple left the building.

The Lady and I, however, went deeper into the building. Then we went out a door, up some steps, past the under-construction Astronaut Park, and into another door. We were now in the area housing the Discovery Center, the restrooms, the Subway restaurant, the gift shop, and the theater.

I guess they wanted to get their money’s worth on that graphic, The Lady said.It was on everything from road signs to restroom signs.

First stop: Restrooms.

Second stop: Gift shop where I bought postcards and The Lady bought The Boy a souvenir t-shirt to replace the one he’d bought during his visit and outgrown.

Third stop: Theater where we watched the informative short documentary IMPACT! The Mystery of Meteor Crater.

After the movie was over, it was time for a tour. We fell in with Jake, our tour guide, who took us right out to the edge of the meteor crater. I was glad we’d opted for the tour because visitors don’t get nearly as close without a guide. I was glad the weather was good too because tours are cancelled due to bad weather, including high wind speeds. I was also glad The Lady and I were visiting in spring because in the hot Arizona summer the tours are cut short.

While visitors can see the crater from the observation area (including through a big glass window for the days it’s too hot and/or too windy to go outside) and can get close-up looks through the free telescope views, no one goes out to the edge of the crater without a guide. I’m sure it would be a huge liability issue to have people standing so close to the edge and perhaps trying to climb down into the crater. The people who own the crater (yes, it’s privately owned) must feel safer having a guide keep an eye on people who go where there are no barriers.

We walked out on a short paved path, and there it was to our left—Meteor Crater. The Boy was right; it was big. Other words that came to mind when I saw the crater were huge, massive, immense, and fantastic, yet it’s difficult to put into words or even capture in photographs just how stupendous the crater really is.

We learned from the movie that the floor of the crater is large enough to house 20 football games being played at the same time, while the sloping sides of the crater could accommodate stands big enough to seat 2 million fans. That’s difficult to imagine, even while I was standing right there looking at the crater.

I didn’t quite begin to understand how big the crater is until I looked through one of the observation telescopes. Looking through the telescope, I could see the floor of the crater where a 6’ tall (I later read) cutout of an astronaut stood in front of a chain link fence. The cutout and the fence both looked itty bitty, even through the telescope.

I learned the following information from a brochure we received at the ticket counter: From the viewing platform,

the floor of the crater is 550 feet deep, equivalent to a 60 story building.

The crater is over 4,000 feet across and 2.4 miles in circumference.

Wowza!

Jake the tour guide was very friendly and knowledgeable. He talked about the impact of the meteor that had

The Lady dances with (a cardboard cutout of) an astronaut in the Discovery Center.

created the crater and the process by which the theory that the crater was made by a meteor (not a volcano as originally thought) was proven. The Lady really enjoyed the second stop on our tour—The Rock Table—where Jake did a show-n-tell of how the meteor impacted (my pun—totally intended) the geology of the area surrounding the crater.

After the tour ended, The Lady and I made a quick pass through the Discovery Center. This area had a lot of

information about meteors and space. There were interactive exhibits, like the one letting the visitor lift an earth rock and comparably sized piece of a meteorite to show the difference in their weights. The Discovery Center seemed to do a good job explaining scientific information in ways kids could understand, while still keeping  the exhibits interesting for adults. I wasn’t so excited about the Discovery Center that day after being out in the sun and the wind during our tour, and knowing I still had hours of driving ahead of me, we kept our visit short. However, the Center must be very popular on days when it’s too windy to go outside or during the summer when the heat cuts the tours short.

You’re probably wondering if the entire experience is worth the $18 admission fee. Folks do get a lot for the price of admission, including the guided tour, the opportunity to view the movie, free use of the telescopic viewers, and access to the Discovery Center. Once you’re in, you’re not nickeled and dimed to death. Also, visitors are allowed to bring in water and snacks, or get their hands stamps for reentry and go out to their vehicles to eat and drink. Every part of the operation The Lady and I saw was clean and well-maintained, so no one is slacking on maintenance in order to line pockets. Finally, all of the employees I encountered (including the clerks in the gift shop) were friendly and seemed happy, so I suspect the workers are being paid decent wages. I’m always happy when workers are earning decent money.

So while I can’t say an $18 admission fee is in my budget, I do think the people who pay that amount get good value for their money. For folks interested in space and heavenly bodies in general and meteors and the impact they’ve had on earth in particular, as well as those interested in geology and the history of the earth, Meteor Crater Natural Landmark would be a very interesting attraction. I’m glad I went, and I appreciate The Lady subsidizing my admission fee, but I wouldn’t encourage travelers on tight budgets to give up something else to visit here unless they were huge fans of meteors and the craters they leave behind.

This photo does no justice to how deep and wide Meteor Crater really is.

I took all the photos in this post.
Dec29

Nature Comforts Me

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What I find comforting about being out in nature is that nature don’t give a fuck about me. Nature doesn’t care if my boyfriend dumped me, if my transmission fluid is slowly leaking, if I’m drifting aimlessly through my life. Nature doesn’t care if I live or die, because I’m miniscule and unimportant in the grand scheme of life. My life is but a blip on the landscape of geologic time. I can see how that could make a person feel depressed or otherwise distressed, but I feel comforted. Nature ain’t worried about my problems, so why should I worry? My problems are tiny compared to the height of a mountain or the number of grains of sand in a dune. Being out in the vastness of nature gives me new perspective on how much my woes really matter.

I took the first photo in this post at White Sands National Monument in New Mexico. The Man took the photo of me hugging the tree in Deer Creek Grove in Sequoia National Forest.

Oct22

Nobe Young Waterfall

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Nobe Young waterfall is tucked away off the Western Divide Highway (also known as Mountain 107) in Tulare County, California. It shows up on maps of the area, but there’s no sign marking its location. If you want to see it, you might need to ask a local, or you can use this blog post to find your way.

Who was Nobe Young and why is there a creek and waterfall named after him? I have no idea on either count. When I did a Google search, I found no information online about Nobe Young the person. I’m not even sure how to say the first part of the name. Some locals rhyme it with “probe,” while others rhyme it with “adobe.” I don’t know who’s correct.

From the junction of Mountain 50 and the Western Divide Highway, turn left toward the Trail of 100 Giants. Pass the trail’s entrance and the nearby campgrounds. About three miles after the trailhead, look for three tires placed as a landmark in a big turnout on the right side of the road. The tires are immediately before an unmarked road to Last Chance Meadow. (This unmarked road is a shortcut to Lloyd Meadow Road.) From the turnout with the tires, go 9/10 of a mile. Look for another big turn out with boulders to the right and a big log well to the left. Just beyond the middle of the turnout, the land rises in a gentle slope. Park in this big turnout.

Walk to the left, toward the big log and find the trail. Walk 10 or 15 minutes on the trail. The first part of the hike is flat and easy, but the downhill part of the trail is somewhat steep. When I visited, I was glad The Man had reminded me to carry my walking stick. I was also glad for my closed-toe Keens. I wouldn’t want to walk that trail while wearing flip flops.

(Wondering if a walking stick or staff or trekking poles could help you on your next hike? Unsure of how to choose what will work best for you? Check out “Montem Outdoor Gear’s Guide on How to Choose and Use Trekking Poles and Walking Staffs.”)

Very soon after we started out on the hike, I thought I heard the sound of water flowing. The Man contended we were hearing the sound of wind through the pines. I’m not sure who was right. Maybe we were hearing a combination of wind and water.

Seeing the waterfall was worth the hike, even the steep part. The drop in temperature was delightful, as was the moisture in the air. The Man called the falls “Native American air conditioning.” The falls were lovely, with water cascading down boulders at different levels. Bright green grass grew at the base of some of the rocks, and the water splashed as it fell.

I’ve heard it’s possible to walk behind the waterfall; there’s talk of a cave back there too. I didn’t try any fancy exploring. I did climb up onto one of the huge boulders in front of the falls for a photo opportunity and found the wet rock rather slippery. I’m in big trouble if I break a bone or hurt myself in some way that makes working for money impossible, so I carefully got off the boulder and stayed off the treacherous wet rocks.

We followed the water down the rocks to a small pool. The water in the pool wasn’t deep enough to swim in or even for an adult to submerge in, but it was plenty deep enough for wading. The Man and I took off our shoes and socks and stood in the pool. Yowza! The water was cold (although not as cold as the water in the Rio Hondo earlier in the year). I’d joked about taking off all my clothes and lying down in the water, but I wasn’t nearly hot enough to do such a thing.

We’d come down, so we knew we’d have to climb back up. After our feet dried, we put on our socks and shoes and started up the trail. I was really glad for my walking stick on the way up. I struggled a couple of times, but I made it safely back to the van with no injuries.

It was a wonderful afternoon of exploration. With a picnic lunch, I could have spent half a day out there, but it’s also possible to make it a quick half hour or 45 minute trip.

I made a short video of the falls, which I like because it lets me see and hear the water splashing down the rocks. The sound of water flowing is so comforting to me. I wish I could sleep next to Nobe Young waterfall (or at least the sound of it) every night.

Video Player

I took all the photos in this post and made the video too.

This post contains a sponsored link.
Sep2

Waterfall Comparison

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When I returned to the area where I’d lived and worked the last two camping season (mid May through mid October), we went the long way. We were trying to catch up with The Big Boss Man so I could introduce The Man to him while The Man was freshly shaved and wearing clean clothes. We thought The Big Boss Man would be at the campground where he sleeps, so we took the most direct route there.

In the mountains, even the most direct route is not necessarily so direct. The “direct” route to The Big Boss Man’s campground is twisting, turning, winding–one switchback after another. Even Google Maps says it takes 45 minutes to go 25 miles on that part of the mountain. Because the road is so difficult, I seldom go that way to Babylon.

Going that way did allow us to see a waterfall I’d seen before. In years past, the water flowing over the rocks had been a thin trickle. Still, the falls was exciting because it was right there, right off the road, easy to pull up to and take photos of.

This is the photo I took of the falls in May 2015:

I could tell it had been a wet winter because when we saw the falls in late June 2017, the water was rushing and splasing over the rocks.

Stop the van! The Man yelled, and I did so he could jump out a take a photo of the waterfall. I wasn’t

This photo shows my feet cooling in the pool.

thrilled to be stopped on a curvy mountain road, but he was fast with his photo shoot (and thankfully,

there’s not much traffic on that stretch of highway).

I took my photos a week or so later when we stopped there again (this time in a proper turnout) on our

way to visit a tree. I not only photographed the falls, I stood in the little pool at the bottom. The water was so cold and refreshed not only my feet, but all of me.

This photo from July 2017 shows the difference a season with a good amount of snow can make to a waterfall:

I took the photos in this post.

Aug17

A Little Hike

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Ivy and Jay had gone on a birthday camping trip with Ivy’s parents, and I’d stayed behind with their housemates.

I like the housemates. They were nice people who talked with me when we ran into each other during the day and invited me to group meals. I felt include.

On the 4th of July, the most outgoing of the female housemates told me the whole crew was going to the nearby national park. Did I want to go along? They were just going to take a little hike.

I wasn’t much of a hiker. I’m still not. I love nature, but I’m fine with plopping down in one spot and observing from there. Besides, I was in the middle of the head cold I’d picked up during my excruciating bus journey from Texas to Utah. My head was full of snot, my throat hurt, and my energy level was low. But a little hike sounded fun.  A little hike would probably do me good.

I got myself ready. Bottle of water. Long cotton pants. Long sleeve cotton shirt. Big straw hat. I was prepared.

We piled into a vehicle and headed to the national park. I don’t remember how far away we were or how long it took to get there. When we arrived, the driver parked, and we all piled out.

The landscape was beautiful in that Southern Utah desert way. The vegetation was sparse. The land was dry. The rocks were red and yellow and orange. It was so different from the lush green I’d grown up in. The stark beauty of this desert astounded me.

A trail started from the parking area. It was paved with asphalt and led visitors to a viewing area. We set off on the trail.

I don’t know how long the trail was, but surely less than a mile. The area to be viewed from the viewing area was, of course, spectacular. The housemates took turns posing on the rocks, and I took photos of everyone. Then we headed back to the car. What a great hike, I thought. That was perfect. What a relief. Now I could rest.

But wait! The housemates weren’t getting back in the car. We weren’t leaving. The perfect little hike we’d just taken wasn’t enough for them. They wanted more! I groaned to myself, but decided to put on a happy face and be a team player.

We walked off into the desert. The sun was hot. My throat hurt. The water in my bottle was lukewarm at best. I was tired. I was not enjoying myself.

The hike stretched on and on. It was no longer little as far as I was concerned. The little hike had turned into a long ordeal.

I hadn’t been paying much attention to where we were going. I didn’t really know how to find my way   around in a natural area with no street signs (and no streets, for that matter), so I left navigation up to the people who knew what they were doing. I don’t know if we were on a marked trail or just trudging through the desert, but I started hearing bits of conversation that included words such as Which way? and Where? We were lost. The very nice housemates had gotten sick little me lost in the wilderness. At that moment, I hated the whole bunch of them.

In reality, I’m sure they were just a little turned around. We probably weren’t really lost. We were probably in no danger. But my throat hurt and I couldn’t breathe through my nose and I did not want to go on any more. I was over this adventure.

Then the most outgoing of the women said cheerfully, At least none of us are miserable.

I raised my hand so she’d have no doubt who was speaking. I am, I said. I’m miserable.

It was official. I’d gone on record. I was miserable.

We didn’t wander through the desert much longer before someone got us on the right track. We headed back to the vehicle. I’d never been so happy to see my transportation out of a place.

On the way back to the tiny town where the housemates lived, we stopped for pizza and ice cream. Pizza and ice cream and lots of big glasses of ice water can cure a variety of woes, and I felt the hatred in my heart dissipate. I felt friendly toward the housemates again.

Back at home, everyone dispersed to take naps.

Before I headed off to lie down, the most outgoing woman said to me, We’ll be going to the rodeo tonight. We probably won’t stay long. Do you want to come with us?

I thought about my throbbing throat, the sadness I’d feel seeing the rodeo’s cruelty to animals, and what won’t stay long might mean to people who thought we’d just gone on a little hike. Within a few short seconds, I’d made my decision and politely declined.

A few hours later, I heard everyone in the house getting ready to go to the rodeo, then I heard the vehicle pull away. I was glad I’d decided not to go. My sick, dehydrated body was still trying to recover from that little hike.

Jul5

Wild Magnolias

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My friends and I were on an epic road trip to see Lou partway home.

Lou was in her car heading to Ohio to decide on her next move. Shortly before we left town, a friend of a friend said he wanted to go to the Midwest too, so Lou had agreed to take him on as a passenger.

Sheff and I and his dog Wednesday were in his car. Sheff did all the driving because I didn’t know how. I read aloud an article about glaciers to keep us both awake during the hottest part of the day.

Our first stop was in New Orleans, where we spent a few days crashing at the home of our sweet friend Kel. If she was surprised by a virtual stranger among us, she didn’t let it interfere with her hospitality.

It was the same with my former neighbor when the four of us went to her apartment for Cajun cooking. Of course, the neighbor had never met any of these friends, so she didn’t know who was close and whom I barely knew.

Our next stop was Mississippi. We spent a night at a state park. As was our habit, we didnt set up tents. Instead, we lay our sleeping bags on tarps and looked up at the stars until we fell asleep. It rained a little in the early morning, and, wanting to stay dry, I scrunched myself into the tiny back seat of Sheff’s compact car.  When I woke up again, the rain had stopped, but my muscles were kinked, and I felt grumpy and disoriented. Sheff handed me a bottle of Dr. Bronner’s peppermint soap and suggested I wash my face with it.

Nothing’s so bad that Dr. Bronner’s peppermint and a clean face can’t help, he told me. He was right. It’s a lesson I haven’t forgotten. Dr. Bronner and his peppermint soap have cheered me many times.

We drove for a couple more hours, then stopped for lunch at a Japanese restaurant. The interior of the restaurant was clean and cool, and the food was delicious. Still, I felt sad because I knew when the meal was over, I’d say good-bye to Lou. I had no idea when–or if–I’d see her again.

We parted ways in the parking lot amidst hugs and tears. I didn’t think even Dr. Bronner’s peppermint soap could mend the hole in my heart my friend’s absence was already causing.

Sheff and I journeyed on to the De Soto National Forest for a couple days of camping. I’d never been there before. I don’t think Sheff had either.

I wasn’t much of a hiker and backcountry camper (I’m still not), but I was basically along for the ride and willing to join in on whatever Sheff wanted to do. I followed him out into the forest, even though I was wearing a tiny dress and inappropriate shoes.

During our second day of camping, Sheff went on a long hike with his dog, and I chose to stay behind with the tent. Our whole time in the forest seems like a dream now, so many years later. Brief memories of the time flash through my mind when I try to remember those days.

Flash! I’m sitting against a tree, writing in my journal when an armadillo comes crashing into our camp. While we are surprised to see each other, the critter doesn’t seem scared of me and ambles away.

Flash! I’ve taken off my clothes, and I’m stretched out in a shallow, muddy, barely flowing body of water. The cool water feels good on my sweaty skin, but I worry someone will come along and see my nakedness. I slip my dress over my head and go back to camp.

Flash! Sheff is back and making dinner. I’m impressed by the way he can cook on his tiny backpacking stove.

Flash! It’s dark, and we’re all in the tent. Sheff’s in his sleeping bag, and I’m in mine. Wednesday the dog wiggles between us at some time in the night, and I wake to find she’s pushed me until I’m up against the tent’s side wall. Her dirty paws have left sand in my sleeping bag.

What I remember most about the camping trip are the magnolia trees growing wild in the forest. Before that day, I’d only seen magnolias growing in cities and towns. I’d assumed people had planted them. It had never occurred to me that magnolias would grow wild, that magnolias could be a natural part of a forest environment.

Those magnolias are growing just to grow, I marveled. No one planted them here.

I couldn’t stop looking at thse trees, thinking about them. They weren’t there to please people. Those magnolias belonged to themselves and were growing for themselves.

After all these years, I still think of those trees out in the Mississippi forest, growing just to grow.

Southern Magnolia, Magnolia Grandiflora, Tree, Flower

Image from https://pixabay.com/en/southern-magnolia-775528/

 

 

Jun16

Carlsbad Caverns (Part 2)

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Once Jerico was secured in a kennel, The Man and I decided to take the Natural Entrance route down into the cave. We were both in fine health, able to walk a mile on “steep and narrow trails.” We thought it would be cool to follow “the traditional explorers’ route” in, rather than take an elevator down hundreds of feet into the earth.

I bought our tickets while The Man looked in the gift shop. (There’s no reason for us both to stand in line, I told him.) Tickets for the self-guided tours of both the Natural Entrance route and the Big Room Route were $10 for adults without any special passes. Once I procured our tickets, we followed signs to the Natural Entrance. Before we started in, a very cheerful park ranger went over the rules visitor are expected to follow.

Don’t touch any of the cave formations.

No smoking or tobacco use.

No gum.

No eating. Drink only water.

Don’t throw anything into cave pools.

Talk in a whisper.

After the brief interaction with the ranger, we were on our way.

The Natural Entrance to Carlsbad Cavern is just past the Bat Flight Amphitheater.

Just past the Bat Flight Amphitheater, visitors walk down toward the huge, dark opening of the Natural Entrance via a series of paved switchbacks. As one descends, the world becomes quieter and cooler. As the temperature in the cave is always 56 degrees Fahrenheit (13 degrees Celcius), visitors are advised to “take a jacket or a sweater.”

A column formation in Carlsbad Cavern.

The cave wasn’t very crowded or noisy during our visit. Visitors are asked to keep their voices low to maintain a quiet atmosphere, but a large number of people whispering could be a noisy bunch. Even if a crowd was quiet, it might still be difficult to navigate around a lot of people. I prefer to visit attractions when I’m one of few visitors. To avoid crowds at any National Park or other popular place, I advise folks to visit before Memorial Day or after Labor Day, during the middle of the week, and as early in the morning as possible. We visited Carlsbad Cavern on a Thursday in early May and started our exploration before 10am. While we didn’t have the place to ourselves, the cave was quiet, and everyone had plenty of elbow room.

We hadn’t gotten very far into the Main Corridor when The Man said he felt very good, peaceful, even as if he had been to this place before. We wondered why we felt so calm in the cavern. Was it the cool temperature? The soft lighting? The quiet? The lack of electromagnetic radiation? We didn’t know, but we surely enjoyed our calm peacefulness.

The Natural Entrance route and the Big Room route are both highly developed areas. The trail is paved and most parts of it have handrails. Both the pavement and the handrails are safety features. In many places, the trail is steep and narrow and could be difficult to navigate if it were made of dirt or loose rock. The trail is often wet and slippery from the high levels of moisture in the air. The handrails help visitors make it safely through those treacherous areas. The trails are accessible to visitors with a range of physical abilities. “Portions of the Big Room are accessible to visitors in wheelchairs…Visitors in wheelchairs should only go into the Big Room with assistance.”

Both the Big Room route and the Natural Entrance route are lit with artificial light. The lighting is kept dim and is sort of yellow. The low light gives the cave a mysterious atmosphere. “The Natural Entrance route descends over 750 feet into the Earth…” and natural light can’t penetrate so deeply. Without artificial light, the dark zone of the cavern would be pitch black.

It’s difficult to describe how it feels to be in the cavern. It’s both huge, like the tallest cathedral imaginable, and womblike. The air is cool and thick with moisture; it’s hard to remember the Chihuahuan Desert is a few hundred feet above. Carlsbad Cavern is its own unique world.

The chambers are decorated with amazing, sometimes enormous rock formations that were created one drop of water at a time. Of course, the cavern is ancient. “The story of Carlsbad Cavern begins 250 million years ago with the creation of a 400-mile-long reef in an inland sea that covered this region.” How does a sea become a desert? I guess a lot can change in 250 million years.

“The decoration of Carlsbad Cavern with stalactites, stalagmites, and an incredible variety of other formations began over 500,000 years ago after much of the cavern had been carved out. It happened slowly–drop by drop–at a time when a wetter, cooler climate prevailed.”

To learn more about how Carlsbad Cavern and its fantastic decorations formed, go to https://www.nps.gov/cave/learn/nature/geologicformations.htm.

Soon after we passed Iceberg Rock, “a single 200,000-ton boulder that fell from the cave ceiling thousands of years ago,” we found ourselves near the elevator up and the beginning of the Big Room route.

This is as far as I went the other time I was here, I told The Man. When we got here, my ex said he was too tired to go on, so we took the elevator up and left.

The Man and I wanted to see every last bit of that cave, so we set out on the Big Room route.

This is one of the formations I saw in the Big Room.

The Big Room consists of “8.2 acres” and is “the largest room in the cave.” The paved trail is a mile long and goes in a loop around the perimeter of the Big Room. There’s a shortcut at about the halfway point for people who don’t have the time, energy, or inclination to walk the whole route. The Man and I were having nothing to do with a shortcut; we wanted to see it all!

You missed all of this? The Man whispered in bewilderment as we walked through the Big Room. This is the best part!

I had to agree. My ex’s foolishness had caused us both to miss the largest and most famous formations like Rock of Ages, Giant Dome, Twin Dome, and Crystal Spring Dome.

The Man took my hand and said, I’m glad we got to see this for the first time together.

Me too, I smiled.

My biggest frustration in Carlsbad Cavern was trying to get photos capturing the beauty and momentous nature of the formations I saw. I used my digital camera (not the one in my phone), and even with a flash

StalacTites are on the Top.

and a zoom, it wasn’t up to the task. I’m not a fan of flash photography, but the low light in the cave made it impossible to capture any image without using a flash. The Man got a few really nice photos using his phone, but even a nice photo is totally lacking. Like with so many natural wonders, the only way to begin to understand the majesty of Carlsbad Cavern is to actually visit it.

The Man said seeing the cave had totally been worth the time, money, and effort. He was glad we had visited and thanked me for suggesting/insisting we go. He’s been to some beautiful places–the Oregon Coast and Moab, UT among them–but he said Carlsbad Cavern is one of the most amazing places he’s ever visited.

Carlsbad Cavern is open every day except Thanksgiving, Christmas, and New Year’s Day. Hours vary by season. For current information, contact the park at 575-785-2232 or see https://www.nps.gov/cave/planyourvisit/hours.htm.

All information in quotation marks comes from the Carlsbad Caverns information sheet and map I was given when I bought our tickes.

I took all of the (terribly disappointing) photos in this post.

 

 

 

Jun15

Carlsbad Caverns (Part 1)

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The first time I visited Carlsbad Caverns, I knew it was something special.

I was still with the man who would one day be my ex. We were already fighting a lot, and by “fighting,” I mean he was angry at me most of the time and yelled at me when we were in the privacy of the van. I’m not sure if the hitting had already started, but if it hadn’t it would soon. In fact, he almost canceled our visit to the caverns because I “made” him yell at me so much the night before that I “made” him sick, and he didn’t know if he had the energy to enjoy himself. I cajoled him into going, mostly so I wouldn’t be blamed later for “making” him miss the attraction.

Neither of us was very happy when we arrived at the Natural Entrance to the cave, but we were quickly

The Natural Entrance to the cave.

overcome by the shocking beauty it contained. As we descended deeper into the earth, we were amazed by the rock formations we saw: stalactites, stalagmites, soda straws, draperies, and columns. The formations we saw were like nothing we had ever seen. We were in awe.

Of course, after the one-mile hike into the cave, the boyfriend punished me by saying he was just too tired to walk another mile through the Big Room, the basic tour through Carlsbad Cavern. We had to leave, he insisted. He just couldn’t go on. So we took the elevator back up to the visitor center, found the van in the parking lot, and left.

What a manipulator! He got to experience fantastic natural wonders, yet still got to blame me for not getting to see both parts. He got to have his bitter cake and eat the nasty thing too!

Honestly, it hardly mattered to me that we left without seeing everything. Just seeing what I saw of the cavern was enough for me. I didn’t care if the boyfriend wanted to be mad at me. What I had seen had been extraordinary, and I think I was changed, maybe minutely, maybe imperceivably, but something inside of me was a little bit different.

At one point, while we were walking along the Main Corridor, somewhere between Bat Cave, Devils’ Den, and Iceberg Rock, I had the urge to fall to my knees and give thanks. I wasn’t sure who I wanted to thank. God? The Goddess? The Universe? Mother Nature? The Creator? Before that day, I hadn’t really believed in anything greater than myself or any sort of force bigger than chemical reactions, but on that day, something clicked. Sure, chemical reactions were involved in this grandeur before me, but something so majestic surely was formed by some extraordinary force.

I left the boyfriend some months later, and we got back together. We repeated the process several times until I left his ass for good. Fast forward six yeas, and The Man and I found ourselves in Roswell, NM.

I knew The Man had never been to Carlsbad Caverns.

We should go! I encouraged him. We’re so close!

He seemed a little skeptical. Was it really worth going nearly 100 miles out of our way? He said he’s been in other caves. Did he really need to see this one?

I didn’t blame him for his skepticism. There was no way my mere words could describe to him how glorious those underground rooms are.

That’s the problem with trying to describe Carlsbad Caverns–there’s no way words can do it justice. Even photographs–even professional photographs–fail to capture the splendor of Carlsbad Caverns. Maybe a photograph of one formation–say Rock of Ages–will do a really good job of showing its features, but no photograph can convey the vastness of the Big Room, the cool dripping wetness of the atmosphere in the cave, the near silence enveloping visitors.

I took many photos at Carlsbad Caverns, but only a few look anything like real life. This is one of the few decent photos I ended up with. Even a decent photo cannot convey how it really feels to be deep in the earth.

Somehow, what I was able to convince The Man that a visit to the cavern would be worth the trip, so we drove out to Carlsbad on a Wednesday afternoon. We spent the night on BLM land (free boondocking!) on Highway 62/180, and the next morning we only had to drive a few miles to the park entrance.

Because dogs are not allowed in the caverns and pets can’t be left in vehicles if temperatures are predicted to rise above 70 degrees, our first order of business upon arrival at the visitor center was to deposit Jerico in the park’s kennel.

The kennel service cost $10 when we visited in May 2017. The kennel closed earlier than the cave, but a dog could stay the entire time the kennel was open for the same price as a dog that only stayed an hour. The kennel and the gift shop are run by the same concessionaire. We didn’t have to show proof of any vaccinations to secure Jerico a spot.

The kennel was very sparse. It consisted of about a dozen cages made from metal wire lining the walls of a large storage closet. Each cage contained water in a bowl and nothing more. While the room didn’t stink, it didn’t have that medicinal smell veterinary clinics have which lets clients know floors have been recently disinfected. Also, no attendant stayed in the room with the dogs. If we’d had a better choice, I wouldn’t have left Jerico there.

Without encouragement, Jerico went right into the cage the worker pointed to, but once the door was zip tied shut, we understood the pup’s displeasure by the look in his eye and the tone of his bark. The Man filled out a form with basic information, then we walked to the gift shop to pay the kennel fee.

(A few hours later, when we retrieved Jerico, I was surprised to see a different worker took no steps to make sure we were leaving with the dog we brought. He didn’t ask to see The Man’s driver’s license or compare the duplicate of the form attached to our receipt to the original. I bet this lax security would get the operation in a heap of trouble if someone’s precious pet was stolen.)

Our task complete, The Man and I headed into the visitor center to begin our adventure.

I took all of the photos in this post.