Look at these desert beauties!
Everything was in bloom on our weekend camping trip.
We snuck away at 4 o'clock on Friday, getting that extra hour to find a new campsite in a new location before dark. We had to camp at the trailhead which always poses the threat of too much human interface, but we found ourselves surprisingly alone most of the time.
Cool and gusty on Saturday morning, enough to drive me back into the tent for a second cup of coffee and to get my hands warmed up a little. We had such a nice pace all day, exploring some ruins up the canyon, napping on a rock in the sun at a warm picnic spot, meandering through the canyon bottom looking for arrowheads and notable rocks.
There were some smallish panels that displayed understated but impressive figures:
The biggest surprise came when we rounded a corner and came upon 8 llamas, sitting quietly in the wash with their legs folded up underneath them, studying us with as much wonder and curiosity as we had for them. There was some group up from Bluff on a big Grand Gulch trip, sun shades set up, sketch books in hand, and yes, floppy hats everywhere. Not only floppy hats but zip-off pants and safari shirts. We, you will note, were wearing our usual attire of mini skirt (me), shorts, tank top, t-shirt, and the trusty ole useless VISORS. Just sayin'.
There were natural arches along the way, and we ended up doing 10 miles or so, back up on the mesa top by late afternoon for a dinner of veggie burgers and baked beans, evening fire and peppermint tea.
Sunday morning was warmer and calmer and we walked up the little hill behind us to get a nicer view of Navajo Mountain in Arizona, glowing in the morning light, returned to the campsite and packed most everything up before venturing out across the mesa top to explore an unnamed canyon east of us. It proved to be an incredibly peaceful, still canyon, and we were quiet ourselves, caught up in the stillness that only a desert can offer.
We watched a couple of ravens chase each other around, like oily handkerchiefs with mirror shadows on the rock hoodoos and cliffs, before allowing themselves to catch each other, murmuring and preening and grackling on the opposite canyon wall.
We had to get to Dolores by 6 or so to meet up with the other members of TriCo, JC's band, and we spied a gigantic golden eagle on the crossbars of a telephone pole, turning its head around backward at times to watch and listen to the squeaky prairie dogs in the field below, probably telling each other, "I'm not going out there, YOU go out there," from their little dens. That is one impressive bird. I made JC drive into the Dove Creek cemetery so I could seal some lilacs that are just opening their tiny fragrant blooms to the world. They are in a Mason jar on our windowsill. First smells of spring in the mountains!
I stayed until 9:30 at the Dolores Brewery then dodged elk the whole way home, while TriCo stayed and played to middle-aged women dancing on the bar, drug myself inside, washed the desert dust off and collapsed into bed. I don't know why I attempted to shave my legs at 11 o'clock at night but I gave up when I realized I was shaving around new cuts and over recent scabs, leaving a bristly patchwork on my calves.
The kidlings come back on Thursday and we are leaning towards sticking around town this weekend, getting some house projects done and preparing for our big spring desert trip on Tuesday when the kids leave again: 10 days of camping/backpacking in the Escalante area.
JC is standing in the kitchen playing guitar, I rallied and make a big batch of Carmola Granola (have I posted the recipe?) and the ski chalet smells like cinnamon and almonds.
Here's another special treat, nature revealing herself to us at every turn.
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