Dispersed Camping as a Woman

"I'm porous with travel fever...."

Joni Mitchell, Hejira

I'm not so intrepid as to be comfortable entirely alone out here, but in Utah's wide open spaces, campgrounds now feel crowded.  This photo shows my happy medium:

Friends have warned me of “the crazy people out there," but I in turn wonder about the cities where they live.  Out here I've encountered only helpful, respectful sorts out to enjoy this bliss.

Yesterday I finally clambered up the slick rock I'd been eyeing.  This red dome was in my sights.  

I knew distances are deceiving, so I wasn't surprised that the nearer I climbed, the more the dome seemed to recede.  (You can barely see it sited between the rock rises.)

Of course it's the journey that mattered, and there were many small pleasures along the way, like rusty ridges of iron oxide...

...and puzzle-piece vignettes:

Finally I'd almost topped the rise and there it was, peaking back at me.  Then, at the top of this slick rock mound...

...I could see the long canyon that led right up to where I could have touched red. The dome is on the other, west side of Comb Ridge, and I'd seen its type from my Snow Flats promontory. I'd have liked to touch it.  But after sitting there a bit, my better judgement prevailed and I headed back.

On Top of the World

Twelve miles up Comb Wash and Snow Flats Road, I found a promontory overlooking the wide canyon. 

From a camp like this I love clambering around on the slick rock ... it offers wide open views and its easy to go exploring.  

And have I mentioned I LOVE the colors ?!?!?!

Another camper settled onto another nearby promontory.  He quietly walked his little dog and then sat under a tree for ever so long.  He seemed a decent sort.  The next morning, when I emerged to photograph the spectacular dawn show, I noticed he was doing the same.

Later on I walked over to visit.  Turns out Dominic contracts as a photographer with the US Geological Survey.  They have old photos and sketches of particular places; they locate these spots and Dominic photographs them.  Then the team is able to compare them and study the changes over time under varying conditions.

I WANT THAT JOB!!!!!

Sky on Fire: Dawn

Desert Seasons

Surface appearances are only that: topography grows, shrinks, compresses, spreads,      disintegrates, and disappears; every scene is temporary and is composed of fragments  from other scenes.

                        John McPhee, Annals of the Former World

Indeed, one night the venerable Wall Arch in Natural Bridges National Monument suddenly geomorphed into a pile of rubble.  Water leeched away the carbonate cement that had glued its sand crystals together for millennia, so the huge arch collapsed.

GeoSights: Wall Arch, A Fallen Giant

Out here in the desert, with its clear air and clear thinking, you can see the earth wasting slowly towards the rivers and sea.  The geologists say there once was over 5000 feet of earth above this area.  Eons of erosion removed it, and will continue doing so.  The life cycle of the desert is very, very long.

On the other hand, we can see the seasons cycling through the forests and meadows every year, over and over.  Spring green leaves and color-bright flowers cheer us out of winter.  The fruits of summer's sun warm our hearts and fill our bellies.  Then the sighing of pale yellow grasses and flaming autumn trees bring a poignant reminder that the end of the year approaches.  We hunker down through winter's white chill, warming ourselves at the hearth as we await spring's renewal.

In Heart of the World, Ian Baker writes of '...mytho-poetic terrain...a landscape lush with symbols, fulcrums where perception can turn to revelation.'

For me, the desert speaks more truly of our life cycle than the forest.  While I have treasured the returns of many springs and autumns, my life has only one precious cycle.  As I feel the loss of a best friend and then a brother, and see cancer change the course of lives dear to me, I recognize nature's long arm reaching in to bend our paths.  The fortunate among us have developed skills for self-determination and goal directness, exercising our allotment of free will.  But nature gradually or suddenly is withdrawing the loan.  

So now, at 70, in mid-October, I'm in my own very sweet autumn.

Color and Light

                                       

I headed out towards an obscure canyon, having heard it was beautiful and had some amazing petroglyphs.  But the road was too long and lonely -- I do have my limits.  So I stopped short, at a promontory wedged between a towering red mesa and a sinuous canyon.  It was impressive, but I figured I’d head back the next day.

I puttered through dinner and some reading...then the show began.  The cliff behind me curved slightly and the rising moon brushed its peak with pearly light.  I watched spellbound as that light crept down the wall into the canyon.  It was as if pixie dust were filling up the canyon’s vast empty space.

The magic dimmed as the moon rose higher, but dawn brought new delight.  The morning sun ignited all of last night’s surfaces with its glow, and it rose above the mesa in time to salute the setting moon.

I hadn’t realized when I arrived that my spot would offer such magic.  It’s all about the light!  (That's Monument Valley on the horizon.)

Cadillac Ranch RV, Bluff, Utah

I felt a little odd coming into Bluff after talking to no one for four days -- no shower either.  The very friendly proprietor of Cadillac Ranch RV directed me to the shower building.  When I emerged, he asked how it was.  I said it was maybe the best shower I'd ever had.  He grinned:  I can always tell who's really been out there camping and who hasn't. Ones that haven't go "Ewww."  Ones that have go, "Ahhhh!"

There's no mystery as to how Bluff got its name.

It's a very pretty little village with a lot of history plus The Bears Ears National Monument Education Center.

Their annual Winter Solstice Burn is a wonderful tradition.  During the October Arts Festival, artist Joe Pachak directs construction of a huge native animal out of local natural materials.  Then, to brighten the long winter night, all gather round to cheer its burning.  Something to return for, surely.

On the Road Again

"Travel liquifies the imagination."  
                                           Pascal Mercier, Night Train to Lisbon

Driving across California takes forever, but soon past Barstow the highway travels right through an ancient lava field.  The simple sight of those black rocks strewn across the Mojave lifts my spirits, as silly as that may sound.

                                wiki photo

Then dramatic mountains called The Needles emerge near the Colorado River.  Stunning!  Stirring!  The earth begins to reveal her bones!

                                wiki photo

As Arizona rolls by, and up, the blue of the sky deepens.  Turning north at Flagstaff, I'm like a bloodhound onto the scent.  The Colorado Plateau beckons with patches of red earth multiplying.  I ascend through colorful tablelands that melt more with every storm.

I arrive at my camp spot near Bluff, UT, just in time to see the red rock mesa ignited by the setting sun.  Home!