Almost wordless Wednesday: First bear visit of spring

We have a bear-proof birdfeeding station, a product of more than a decade of trying to feed the birds but not the bears. You can see the metal pole that is sunk in concrete in the photos below. Atop the metal pole, three branches extend out horizontally, each holding a bird feeder. This system has stymied bears for about 6 years.

Every May and June, a few young males pass through to check out the system and leave with nothing. They don't come back, and we usually get no ursine visits after July. Our recent visitor entered our clearing in the middle of a thunderstorm and torrential rain. He attacked our bear-proof garbage cans after failing with the birdfeeders. He rolled one garbage can into the woods to work on it in privacy but didn't get it open.

Here's his visit chronicled by my wildlife cameras.

I've raised the cameras so that the bear's head will stay within the frame if there's a next visit by a bigger bear. This bear was small and probably young.

Canyon hiking

My internet connection is not cooperating today (my upload speed is officially zero right now) so I'll share just a few photos that I uploaded a few days ago from our next stop in the San Rafael Swell near Temple Mountain. After exploring this area that was completely new to us, we eventually found peaceful campsites surrounded by canyon walls.

It was a land of narrow canyons cutting through great domes of rock. We rapidly learned that the dogs didn't like true "slot" canyons that are just a few feet wide and require that humans give dogs boosts over obstacles. So, we sought wider canyons that we could negotiate without needing to lift the dogs.

As the weather warmed after the rainy and cold start to our trip, we tended to hike in the evening, after the narrower parts of the canyons were mostly in the shade, as you can see in the photo above. But, the wider parts of the canyons were still bathed in sun, producing panting pups!

In this part of the Swell, I found numerous ATV trails that I was allowed to ride my mountain bike on. And, to my delight, I found almost total solitude on them. So, we fell into a pattern of running/biking in the morning, relaxing in shady spots during the heat of the day, hiking in the early evening, and hanging out in camp for the rest of the evening.

R's favorite shady spot was underneath the van. He looked a bit like a Chocolate Lab after lying in the red sand for a nap.

I had brought along books to learn more about using my dSLR camera, and I played with the camera and a tripod as the sun set.

I even experimented with night-time photos. This jagged rock face was illuminated by the moon that shined from behind me. At first, I thought that I hadn't focused the camera correctly because the stars were not pin-point. Then, I realized that the Earth had rotated by enough distance during my long exposure time to make the stars look like short streaks.

This photo made me think about the fact that, although we tend perceive the world as static and unchanging at any instant in time, it is actually perpetually revolving and evolving.

Hopefully, I'll be able to upload some photos for tomorrow to show you more of this beautiful section of the San Rafael Swell!

Down to the river

We spent the majority of our trip in the little-known San Rafael Swell. It's an area that was uplifted by a shifting fault deep below the Earth's surface about 60 million years ago. Since then, the dome-like Swell has developed deep canyons as running water and wind have eaten away the softer rock in the formation. The result is a land of canyons with towering red cliffs. It's not a well known area so it's easier to find solitude than in nearby areas like Moab.

As we drove toward the Swell, we crossed huge grassy fields with red-hued rocky cliffs in the distance. Storms still swirled around us.

We drove until late in the evening, stopping at a pretty campsite in a wide canyon. Cliffs loomed high on both our east and west sides, giving us prolonged shady times at the start and end of the day.

One aspect of the Swell that I didn't like so much was that a lot of land has been designated as "Wilderness Study Areas", meaning that only hikers and horses are permitted to use the trails. We didn't realize that until the next morning when I realized that there were no trails nearby that I was allowed to ride my mountain bike on. So, I did a dirt road ride while the rest of the pack went for a trail run.

Although I prefer trails, the dirt road was deserted and pretty. By the side of the road, a towering cliff held pictographs and petroglyphs from more than 2000 years ago. In the photo below, a red pictograph is in the lower right corner, depicting a person who appears to be striking a coiled snake. You can see more pictographs along the lower edge of the photo. I took the photo from this viewpoint because I was pondering why the artists chose this wall for their pictures. Perhaps they liked the overhanging rock at the top?

After seeing the rock art, I kept pedaling, with ever increasing urgency because storms seemed to be closing in on me from all sides. Here, you can see that I was in clouds but sun still shined further down the canyon.

I beat the storms to the edge of the Little Grand Canyon (also known as the "Wedge Overlook").

As I peeked over the edge, I wondered if I could get down by the river in a future ride... It looked like an inviting green oasis.

As I sat on the edge of the precipice, a bolt of lightning pierced the sky on the horizon and a boom of thunder rattled the ground underneath me. I decided that it was time to hammer back to our faraway van. Fortunately, the storms didn't follow me so I made it back in full sunshine.

The next day, we drove the van to a trailhead at the top of a wash (narrow canyon that fills with water during storms) that led down to the San Rafael River. Like usual, there was absolutely nobody else in the vicinity. Before going to the trailhead, I believed that I wouldn't be allowed to ride in the wash because the rules about mountain bikes seemed so strict. However, as I set out for my ride, I headed toward the wash to read the signs. To my disbelief, the last sign that I saw said "Only hikers, horses, and mountain bikes allowed beyond this sign". I decided not to question my good fortune and started pedaling down the wash.

Soon, I caught up with the Runner and the two dogs, and we enjoyed a pack excursion for a while. Based on the pools of water and soaked gravel/sand surface, we surmised that the wash had flooded during the recent storms and was just drying out. I saw a remnant of a barbed wire fence in the wash that looked like a storm current had ripped past it, leaving debris caught in its wires. On that sunny and hot day, it was hard to visualize the canyon in a flash flood.

When the rest of the pack turned back, I kept riding down the wash. It got narrower as I rode, and overhanging cliffs provided respite from the relentless sun.

Primrose flowers bloomed in the aftermath of the wet weather looking radiant in the sunshine.

Common Globemallow flowers also decorated the otherwise barren terrain. Their orange glowed against the blue sky.

Because I hadn't planned on riding down the wash, I was stunned when I suddenly emerged at the San Rafael River. I hadn't scoped out the ride on the map ahead of time so I thought that the river was much further away.

I rode along side the same river as I'd seen from the clifftop the previous day. The vegetation lining the river was a haven for a huge variety of birds, reptiles, and mammals. I saw deer hoof prints in the sand as I rode.

Alas, I couldn't stay very long because I'd reached my turnaround time for meeting the rest of the pack back at the van. I wished that I could bask in the sun next to the river like a lizard for the afternoon.

That lizard had a nice place to live! I'm not sure what kind of lizard he was. Does anyone else know?

That night, we visited the rim of the canyon holding the river. When we first arrived, we stood in shadows but a section of the canyon was in the sun's spotlight.

As the sunset progressed, only the tops of the cliffs glowed.

My ever-patient K let me take innumerable photos of her chocolate fur bathed in the glow of the setting sun.

That was our last day in that part of the Swell. The next day, we traveled toward an area known for its slot canyons - narrow crevices in the rock dome that carry torrents of water in big rain storms. We still had lots of fun (and no more mud) ahead of us!

Little Grand Canyon

After escaping Rattlesnake Canyon, we made a beeline for the San Rafael Swell in Utah, a region that is a labyrinth of canyons within ancient rock. I experienced one canyon on my bike from its rim and its depths. First, I rode along its canyon wall and peered down at the dizzying view. A day later, I rode along the riverside down on the canyon floor (details tomorrow). That canyon was called "Little Grand Canyon". The San Rafael River courses through it.

I loved seeing the canyon so much from my bike that we returned to eat dinner while watching the sun set from the canyon rim. Sweet K let me take her picture in the magical light.

Enjoy the rest of the weekend!

Rattlesnake Canyon or Gilligan's Island?

I tried to prepare this post yesterday but I felt like I couldn't think straight. For some reason, I didn't make the connection between my mental fuzziness and the noxious odor of the glue that had just been used to install our new tile floor in the basement. By dinnertime, I was feeling truly awful and finally figured out why. We opened all the windows despite the freezing temperature and aired out the house. Now I can think again. After reading the disjointed story that I wrote yesterday, I'm glad that I didn't post it!

Here it is but hopefully I've made it clearer than it was...

It keeps snowing here, as I'm sifting through my photos from our desert trip. Early one recent morning, a pair of coyotes visited our snow-laden clearing. The wildlife are having a tough time with our seemingly endless May snow. R found a baby rabbit floundering in deep snow. He picked it up with his soft Labrador mouth and released it unharmed. I'm glad that it was R and not one of these hungry coyotes who found the baby rabbit.

At the end of my previous post, we had arrived at Rattlesnake Canyon hoping to hike/bike to see ten fabulous arches about 2.5 miles away from our campsite. However, we were in a deluge of rain. We hoped that the next morning would dawn sunny and warm. Alas, our hopes were dashed as we heard the rat-a-tat-tat of freezing rain on the van's roof the next morning.

We slowly ate breakfast while gazing out the windows hoping for a break in the weather. Indeed, the rain stopped around mid-morning. R and the Runner started a run and disappeared in the direction of the the fabled arches. K and I started in the same direction with me on my mountain bike. Believe it or not, I made it only 20 yards. In that short distance, the mud coated my tires so thickly that they would not turn within my bike frame. I stopped and tried to roll my bike back to the van but the bike wouldn't roll due to the dastardly mud. I tried carrying my bike but the mud must have weighed 100 lbs. My elegant solution was to drag my bike on its side, leaving a deep furrow in the mud road. I spent the next hour cleaning the mud off my bike, making it functional (although certainly not "clean"). I failed to take a photo of my mud-caked bike because my mood was horrendous at that time.

After cleaning my bike, K and I wandered around near the van. We could only walk a quarter mile from it without my shoes become 2 ton clown shoes with huge wads of mud stuck to them. I kept wondering how R and the Runner were faring in their quest to see the arches. I had a bleak vision of them stuck in the mud somewhere down in the canyon. I was also starting to ponder the notion that the roads were truly impassable and that we might be stranded in that place for a long time. Visions of "Gilligan's Island" were dancing through my head.

Despite being landlocked by a sea of mud, K and I enjoyed wandering in a brief sunny moment.

We saw vivaciously colored flowers. These "Four O'clock" flowers were blooming in the morning. These flowers open in the late afternoon and stay open all night, in contrast to most flowers. The reason is that Hawk Moths are their primary pollinators, and they're nocturnal.

Bluebirds flitted nearby with the skies darkening behind them.

I thought that the weather pattern had changed until we descended to the best lookout point for gazing over the plains and into the canyon. Oh my.

Almost immediately, another round of thunder, lightning, and a pelting rain engulfed our world. I could barely walk the 100 yards up the muddy hill to the safe haven of the van because my feet slipped back down the hill by at least 6" for each step. At one point, I left the trail, and started using my arms to pull me up the hill by grabbing boulders as I crawled. I was starting to understand what "impassable when wet" meant. I was also regretting the time I'd spent cleaning the inside of the van before our trip. It was rapidly becoming a mud-fest.

The two R's were still down in the canyon. I was starting to worry about them. K and I hung out in the van waiting for them.

They finally returned, having evaded the lightning and slipped all over the slick mud trail. The Runner sported the muddiest shoes that I've ever seen. Before the lightning forced them to turn back, they'd made it to the first of the ten arches rumored to be in the canyon.

Soon, we had another period of calm weather. My back was starting to scream in pain from being sedentary in the van too much. So, I pedaled my bike in the opposite direction from the arches. I discovered that I could ride 0.33 miles in that direction without hitting impassable mud.

I'm sure that the next part of the story will teach you that I am truly nuts. I proceeded to ride back and forth on the 0.33 miles of passable road for more than an hour. The Runner sat outside the van and shouted out my "splits" as if I was doing a high intensity workout. My best split was 3:26 for a 0.66 mile "lap" on the rough dirt road. In the end, what could have been a dismal ride was hilarious with me sprinting back and forth like a maniac, and my coach shouting encouragement. Even enticing birds watched me sprinting back and forth like this spotted towhee.

By dinnertime, it hadn't rained for a few hours. We hiked out the road in the "escape" direction to test the mud. The ground felt almost solid under our feet so we decided to seize the moment to try to flee.

Based on the weather forecast, we knew that we had no choice but to seize even the tiniest of dry weather windows to try to drive out of there. Otherwise, we might spend our entire trip in a 0.33 mile radius. It was a beautiful little area but we had planned to travel much further!

The start of our escape drive was on perfectly flat and easy roads through sagebrush plains. Yet, at times, we fishtailed as if we were negotiating black ice on a steep road. After slip-sliding for miles on flat roads, we made it to a junction where we knew that we had a very tough, but short, descent over steep and muddy roads. Darkness had fallen so we decided to sleep by the side of the road and wait for daylight to try to negotiate the final part of our escape. In the morning, I looked back at our tracks from the night before. You can see how deeply we were sinking into the jelly-like mud on the easy road.

You can also see that the storms stilled chased us. So, we immediately hightailed it down the boulder-pocked precarious hill. Within less than a mile, we were in trouble, mired in the mud. Thanks to the Runner's driving skills and the bull-moose power of our diesel 4wd van, we backed out of the mud.

After discussion, we decided to barge through a private road with huge signs screaming "no trespassing" guarding its entrance. Our map showed that it was an easy route back to civilization. We created an elaborate story of a "female" medical drama requiring us to rush to the hospital in case anyone tried to stop us. Thankfully, we didn't see a soul while committing our misdemeanor.

We made it out, with the Runner having seen only one arch and me seeing none. But, I've never been so happy to see a paved road and the cliffs that it overlooked, especially with the angry storms still circling us!

We'll go back to Rattlesnake Canyon someday. The photos of the arches there have convinced us that it would a perfect spot to enjoy nature's beauty in total solitude. However, we will choose a window of time when there is ZERO percent chance of rain.

A mountain lion and "impassable when wet"

While we were in the desert, it snowed at our home. During the string of snow storms that have been pummeling us, a mountain lion passed one of my wildlife cameras. The camera is pointed at a bear "whammy tree" which is right behind the lion. The lion showed no interest in the tree and just padded softly by it. Notice the naked neck - the wildlife agency hasn't caught up with this guy yet!

Believe it or not, it is still snowing here. We got a water-logged 8" of snow last night and it's still falling. It's hard to be happy about snow in May but this is helping with our drought.

At the very same time as the mountain lion was passing my wildlife camera, we were on our trip, starting with an excursion to Rattlesnake Canyon and later going to the San Rafael Swell. Rattlesnake Canyon is a site in western Colorado with the highest concentration of natural rock arches outside of Arches National Park. Because it sits on BLM land, the Labraduo was allowed to join us there.

To get there, we passed some beautiful sights. Rock cliffs and spires sat above a nearby town.

When we looked more closely we saw that climbers were on the spire. If you look closely, you can see two climbers descending in the evening light.

You can see that the skies looked fairly benign at that time. There was a small chance of rain but we surmised that we were in the desert, where it likely wouldn't rain. So, we didn't worry about the fact that the maps said that the 4WD road into Rattlesnake Canyon "may be impassable when wet".

Alas, very shortly after arriving, an angry bank of clouds surged toward us.

We could see torrential downpours in the distance.

The wind started howling.

We retreated to our van but I stepped outside during every lull to look around.

We had heard that the area where we sat had received almost no rain all year. So, we sat tight, assuming that we'd awaken to sunny skies the next day and be able to go see the arches. During breaks in the torrential and freezing rain, I explored the desert bloom near our van. What a sight for someone who has been mired in winter for so long!

We weren't yet focused on the "impassable when wet" roads that stood between us and civilization. Needless to say, this visit to Rattlesnake Canyon wasn't going to proceed as planned.