Posted to the WDTL on 18 May 2009:
It's not really the west desert, but I've been spending a lot of time in the southern Sierra for work. It involves crossing the Mojave Desert and the dry foothills near Bakersfield. I love it for some of the same reasons that I love the four corners: big, empty, and rugged. Well, this being California, it isn't so empty. My first stop is always Mesquite, which I don't hate as much as most people do. Then, there is Vegas, which I hate far more than most people seem to. (It is a hell-hole that could cease to exist as far as I am concerned.) I usually stop in Baker, just because it is such an arm pit, and I like arm pits. Barstow isn't much better and I usually pass it by. But, once you get out past Edwards, it becomes really beautiful. There is Mojave and Tehachapi and Keene. I turn off at Caliente and wind my way over to the Walker Basin. Wow. I love Utah and the four corners, but if you want to buy me a few hundred acres of the Walker Basin, I will be happy there, too.
Friday, October 30, 2009
Thursday, October 29, 2009
West Desert V
Posted to the WDTL on 3 May 2009:
We drove toward the Gap with a huge storm brewing. A few drops spattered us as we passed the southern end of the Little Salt Lake. The deluge hit as we entered the Gap. Ellen said we had an ocean on our windshield. We did, but it was gone by the time we reached the Minersville Highway. From there we drove straight to Lund. Lund has a population of five. Maybe. But it has two little abandoned (and now vanalized) railroad houses that we like. Valerie wants to move one home for a studio. We turned north past the pig farms and, by the time we hit Jockey Road, Ellen was asleep. She didn't miss much but, after we'd passed the road to the mine, I wasn't really sure where we were going. We passed some hand-carters and finally stopped at an old corral, but we still had nowhere to camp. We turned around and went back to an abandoned gravel pit. It wasn't very picturesque, but the girls were ready to quit driving. We were probably 80 miles from Parowan, but it had taken us about three hours to get there.
After erecting camp, Ellen and I took a walk down a little wash nearby. We were in a pinyon-juniper forest and it showed signs of heavy cutting, even half a mile from the road. Most of the fence posts between there and Minersville must have come from that forest. Nevertheless, there were plenty of trees and they collectively blocked our views of the surrounding area. So, we had just ourselves and our little wash. Which was quite enough. We were out of the wind and the temperature was just right for walking. The air smelled of pinyon and sage. Ellen chattered on about the flowers she found—penstemon, indian paintbrush, and some little native snow-in-summer type plants. We found coyote tracks and scats; we found old horse poops; we heard the call of a crow; and, where the wash entered a little meadow, we startled a grazing cow elk. On the way back we found a couple of resting rocks; we sat there while Ellen dumped the sand out of her shoes. A few minutes later we arrived in camp—just in time to open a bottle of two dollar wine and start cooking dinner.
In the morning, we left Valerie to paint and we drove over to a spring just below the Tetons—three or four little knolls with a grand sounding name. From there I hiked to the crest of one of the, well, Tetons, while Ellen sat on a rock about half way up. I had unimpeaded views across Pine Valley and all the way to Indian Peak. Ellen started to call, so I went down and we drove back to camp. I got Ellen a snack and we packed up the camping gear. The sun was out and it was hot. With the windows open, we turned back down Jockey Road and drove to the confluence with Blawn Wash. We turned there at the old windmill and continued down the wash. Blawn Wash Road was in very good shape and within minutes we were in front of Broze Knoll. We set up Valerie to paint and made lunch. After a while it was time to go and Ellen went to sleep on the seat as we drove back to Lund. From there, it was a straight shot back to the Gap and Parowan beyond.
We drove toward the Gap with a huge storm brewing. A few drops spattered us as we passed the southern end of the Little Salt Lake. The deluge hit as we entered the Gap. Ellen said we had an ocean on our windshield. We did, but it was gone by the time we reached the Minersville Highway. From there we drove straight to Lund. Lund has a population of five. Maybe. But it has two little abandoned (and now vanalized) railroad houses that we like. Valerie wants to move one home for a studio. We turned north past the pig farms and, by the time we hit Jockey Road, Ellen was asleep. She didn't miss much but, after we'd passed the road to the mine, I wasn't really sure where we were going. We passed some hand-carters and finally stopped at an old corral, but we still had nowhere to camp. We turned around and went back to an abandoned gravel pit. It wasn't very picturesque, but the girls were ready to quit driving. We were probably 80 miles from Parowan, but it had taken us about three hours to get there.
After erecting camp, Ellen and I took a walk down a little wash nearby. We were in a pinyon-juniper forest and it showed signs of heavy cutting, even half a mile from the road. Most of the fence posts between there and Minersville must have come from that forest. Nevertheless, there were plenty of trees and they collectively blocked our views of the surrounding area. So, we had just ourselves and our little wash. Which was quite enough. We were out of the wind and the temperature was just right for walking. The air smelled of pinyon and sage. Ellen chattered on about the flowers she found—penstemon, indian paintbrush, and some little native snow-in-summer type plants. We found coyote tracks and scats; we found old horse poops; we heard the call of a crow; and, where the wash entered a little meadow, we startled a grazing cow elk. On the way back we found a couple of resting rocks; we sat there while Ellen dumped the sand out of her shoes. A few minutes later we arrived in camp—just in time to open a bottle of two dollar wine and start cooking dinner.
In the morning, we left Valerie to paint and we drove over to a spring just below the Tetons—three or four little knolls with a grand sounding name. From there I hiked to the crest of one of the, well, Tetons, while Ellen sat on a rock about half way up. I had unimpeaded views across Pine Valley and all the way to Indian Peak. Ellen started to call, so I went down and we drove back to camp. I got Ellen a snack and we packed up the camping gear. The sun was out and it was hot. With the windows open, we turned back down Jockey Road and drove to the confluence with Blawn Wash. We turned there at the old windmill and continued down the wash. Blawn Wash Road was in very good shape and within minutes we were in front of Broze Knoll. We set up Valerie to paint and made lunch. After a while it was time to go and Ellen went to sleep on the seat as we drove back to Lund. From there, it was a straight shot back to the Gap and Parowan beyond.
Wednesday, October 28, 2009
West Desert IV
Posted to the WDTL on 26 April 2009:
Twice this year I've driven to Kernville, California for meetings. From Parowan, one can drive all the way to Barstow on I-15. There are three words for that trip: Boring, boring, and boring. (The only interesting part is Las Vegas. Instead of boring, Las Vegas is hot, dusty, garrish, and traffic-choked. It is, in short, a hell-hole. But, I digress.) To break up the boredom, I've taken two large detours. On 23 January, I did a 200 mile drive-through of the Mojave National Preserve. It was cool and wet, of all things, and the landscape had the expectant feel of spring. On 21 April, I did a 200 mile drive-through of Death Valley National Park. It was already hot—106F—and one sensed that spring was, perhaps, past. Neither the Mojave nor Death Valley is beautiful in the typical sense, but both of them are large, rugged, and harsh, which makes them attractive. They say that the best time to visit is between Thanksgiving and Christmas—the crowds are gone and the weather is moderate. I may want to take them up on it.
Twice this year I've driven to Kernville, California for meetings. From Parowan, one can drive all the way to Barstow on I-15. There are three words for that trip: Boring, boring, and boring. (The only interesting part is Las Vegas. Instead of boring, Las Vegas is hot, dusty, garrish, and traffic-choked. It is, in short, a hell-hole. But, I digress.) To break up the boredom, I've taken two large detours. On 23 January, I did a 200 mile drive-through of the Mojave National Preserve. It was cool and wet, of all things, and the landscape had the expectant feel of spring. On 21 April, I did a 200 mile drive-through of Death Valley National Park. It was already hot—106F—and one sensed that spring was, perhaps, past. Neither the Mojave nor Death Valley is beautiful in the typical sense, but both of them are large, rugged, and harsh, which makes them attractive. They say that the best time to visit is between Thanksgiving and Christmas—the crowds are gone and the weather is moderate. I may want to take them up on it.
Tuesday, October 27, 2009
West Desert III
Posted to the WDTL on 22 March 2009:
The wind gusts were hitting 45 mph this morning. At church, the preacher said that one of the local farmer's hens was facing away from the wind . . . she laid the same egg six times. Har. With all that wind, there was a terrific salt storm rising off the Little Salt Lake and blowing up the Parowan Valley. I wanted to see it, so after church I drove towards Minersville and around through the Gap. Ellen was with me and I told her that we were hunting dust storms. Before we got to the Gap we encountered a bad one just on the west side of the little mountain range there. It was worse than fog. I couldn't see the road and Ellen said that it made her eyes water inside the truck.
The wind gusts were hitting 45 mph this morning. At church, the preacher said that one of the local farmer's hens was facing away from the wind . . . she laid the same egg six times. Har. With all that wind, there was a terrific salt storm rising off the Little Salt Lake and blowing up the Parowan Valley. I wanted to see it, so after church I drove towards Minersville and around through the Gap. Ellen was with me and I told her that we were hunting dust storms. Before we got to the Gap we encountered a bad one just on the west side of the little mountain range there. It was worse than fog. I couldn't see the road and Ellen said that it made her eyes water inside the truck.
Monday, October 26, 2009
West Desert II
Posted to the WDTL on 10 February 2009:
Today I went out to Three Peaks. It may be my last visit. It is a beautiful and interesting place, but it looks like another ATV sacrifice area. I don't want to be there with the motors. But, today it was cold and windy. It had snowed hard all morning, and the sun was just breaking out now and then. Besides, it was a Tuesday. So, the place was quiet. And I loved that. I think the loss of the quiet is the thing that is making me miss Escalante so much. That deep silence became a friend to me, and now it is gone. There is no silence in the Parowan Valley; none in Cedar City.
Today I went out to Three Peaks. It may be my last visit. It is a beautiful and interesting place, but it looks like another ATV sacrifice area. I don't want to be there with the motors. But, today it was cold and windy. It had snowed hard all morning, and the sun was just breaking out now and then. Besides, it was a Tuesday. So, the place was quiet. And I loved that. I think the loss of the quiet is the thing that is making me miss Escalante so much. That deep silence became a friend to me, and now it is gone. There is no silence in the Parowan Valley; none in Cedar City.
Sunday, October 25, 2009
West Desert I
In February, I started a sister blog to the Four Corners Travel Log and called it the West Desert Travel Log. After moving to Parowan, I expected that we would spend as much time in the Great Basin as we did in the Four Corners. But it hasn't worked out that way. In fact, with the exception of two posts that I generated during May while on the road for my job, I've had only one entry since March . . . and not a single post of any kind in almost six months. The West Desert Travel Log simply isn't. And, so, I'm going to shut it down. I will incorporate its contents into the FCTL by copying them over . . . one per day for the rest of this week. After that, any trips west will be posted here despite being slightly off topic. We will call them "geographical oddities." So, without further explaination, here is the first entry from WDTL. It is from 8 February 2009:
You knew it was coming. I promised it when we moved. The sister blog to Four Corners Travel Log has been born. Welcome to the West Desert—very different from the Four Corners, but beloved for some of the same big, empty reasons. For me, the West Desert starts right outside our door. For the sake of geographic simplicity, I-15 makes up its eastern boundary, and I-15 is in our backyard. Well, not really, but close enough. Today, we crossed the border and started west. The first big feature is the Little Salt Lake, but just beyond that is the Parowan Gap. "Discovered" in 1850 by the Parley Pratt expedition that founded Parowan, the Parowan Gap is well known for its incredible 1000 year old petraglyphs. We hiked, picked up rocks, and froze in the February wind. But, it felt good to be out seeing a little of the country—the West Desert.
You knew it was coming. I promised it when we moved. The sister blog to Four Corners Travel Log has been born. Welcome to the West Desert—very different from the Four Corners, but beloved for some of the same big, empty reasons. For me, the West Desert starts right outside our door. For the sake of geographic simplicity, I-15 makes up its eastern boundary, and I-15 is in our backyard. Well, not really, but close enough. Today, we crossed the border and started west. The first big feature is the Little Salt Lake, but just beyond that is the Parowan Gap. "Discovered" in 1850 by the Parley Pratt expedition that founded Parowan, the Parowan Gap is well known for its incredible 1000 year old petraglyphs. We hiked, picked up rocks, and froze in the February wind. But, it felt good to be out seeing a little of the country—the West Desert.
Tuesday, October 20, 2009
New Home Bench, Utah
We needed to meet some other painters and photographers at Calf Creek on Saturday, so we drove over to the east side on Friday afternoon. I was planning to camp somewhere between Head of the Rocks and New Home Bench. I didn't turn down Spencer Flat because I figured that would be too popular. Well, I may have made a mistake. New Home Bench was crowded and we had to go half way to Salt Gulch before we could find a place. In the end, it was too close to the road and the traffic kept us up half the night. What the . . . ? This is Garfield County, Utah . . . where is there to drive to at 11:30p?Of course, it was worse in the morning. When we lived in Escalante, I wouldn't go near Calf Creek because I couldn't stand the mayhem. Well, it was our planned meeting place, so we had to ignore the yuppies, hippies, and euros for a change, and deal with the carnival. V came up with a couple of nice little paintings and E got to wade in the creek, plus we had a good time talking with Irene and some other painters. By 2p we were worn out and we went back up to Salt Gulch for a nap. The nap was followed by a hike in Big Gulch and a spaghetti dinner.
On Sunday morning, I took a run down the Escalante River to Phipps Wash while the girls went upstream to the natural bridge. Even the lower end of Phipps was full of tourists, so I never did have an hour of silence, but I guess that is the price one pays for visiting the Calf Creek area in early October. I messed around in one of the side canyons and missed Phipps Arch, but I did find the Maverick Natural Bridge. By about 1p we were all at the bridge and loaded up for another hundred mile drive back to Parowan.
Monday, October 12, 2009
Pardner Canyon, Utah
We needed to deliver 20 pieces of fine art to the Anasazi Museum in Boulder on Sunday, so we left home Saturday afternoon and drove over to Tropic. We stopped there and talked with Ms. Irene at the gallery for a while, before looking for a place to camp. We had always gazed up Pardner Canyon when passing it on Highway 12, but never taken the time to stop. So, after Henrieville and before the Blues, we started looking for an access point. We soon found a little two track and headed north. The road was badly eroded and full of washouts. We made it probably half a mile before an impassable washout stopped us in some waist-high sage-brush. It wasn't the perfect camp, but it wasn't bad either.I'd forgotten the Pentax, so I took the little Canon and walked up the road for a while before dinner. The temperature was pleasant, the fall colors were beautiful, and the canyon was silent. It was a good hour for hiking. I came upon an old homestead along the banks of Dry Creek and spent a few minutes looking around the cabins and corrals. There was a giant rat midden inside the cabin and sagebrush had taken over the door-yard. It seemed kind of homey nonetheless. After dinner, we sat around a fire of pinyon sticks while I read aloud from J.W. Powell's seminal Canyons of the Colorado.
In the morning, we all scrambled over to Dry Creek and the girls played in the wash while I climbed half-way up one of the buttes. We jumped in the truck by about 10a and weaved through the yuppies and the tourists on our way to Boulder. It was good to see Brenda and Torianne at the Anasazi, and the art show looked great, as always. On the way back we hassled Auggie at the Escalante Visitor Center and dropped the camper in Tropic where we'll pick it up later in the week. We were back on the west-side (Parowan) by 5p after another 300 miles of southern Utah driving.
Monday, October 5, 2009
Robinson Reservoir, Utah
I went back to Robinson Reservoir this morning to see if I could make a good picture. When I was there on Saturday, the wind was blowing so I didn't have the reflection I wanted. Today, the lake was calm, but the sun was directly behind the line of aspen trees I wanted to shoot. My pictures were better, but not great. On the other hand, it was a beautiful morning and a good opportunity to show Sophie T the area. We stopped in First Left Hand a couple of times to look around. We found a mining claim that I had not noticed before and Sophie took a slide on some scree.http://picasaweb.google.com/aorlemann/RobinsonReservoirUtah#
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