Backdoor to Bowery Creek

It was pretty late in the day and my legs were tired.  I'd just whipped the girls in some two-on-one soccer drills, so I was moving slowly.  I was in a small, dry wash just up the Second Left Hand Road from the ford.  I had noted the wash the day before because it had at least one bristlecone pine in it and I wanted to see if there were more.  There weren't.  But, on the theory that there is always something interesting to see in these little washes, I continued my slow hike.  Finally, I decided that there was nothing, that I was bored with pinyon, juniper, and Douglas fir, and that it was about time to turn around.

I was in a little bowl at the top of the wash where the main stream course split into two or three little rills.  I could see the top of the bowl not too far away and, before going down, I decided to push up to the top of the saddle to see if there was a view.  And there was.  I found myself atop the broken red cliffs to the west of Bowery Creek.  It was spectacular.  I've always liked that spot and have stopped to make pictures of it many times.  (See the lead-off picture, above.)  I've sometimes thought of scrambling up one if its gullies, but they are steep, loose, and manky, so my thinking has never progressed much beyond wishing I were younger.

Surprisingly, on the top of that ridge, I found that my legs were not quite so tired anymore and I made my way along it, peering off all the ledges.  Much to my delight, I discovered a second bristlecone (pictured), as well as a lone limber pine there on the wind blasted ridge.  To see each of southern Utah's four native pines in one day is note-worthy in any case, but to do so on a used-up afternoon, when I had already (mentally) started for home was a big bonus.  It all just goes to prove my theory that there is always something interesting to see in these little washes.  Unless there isn't.  And, then all you've got to say for yourself is that you've just had a walk in the woods and have smelled the pinyon and heard the chickadees.

Peas on Earth

Last year, the pea fence went in on the last day of March.  We were anticipating the growth of a few legumes during April.  This year, the legumes are already three inches tall.  It should make for a nice long growing season.  Unfortunately, the March temperatures have already exceeded my maximum tolerance.  It was 73F today.  We could be in for a hard summer.

Tree Hunting

As I have noted before, the Sherratt Library at SUU has scanned and cataloged many historical photographs owned by the Dixie National Forest.  I was looking at this image in Sherratt's online archive the other day, and I decided to go out to the forest to see if I could find the large conifer tree in the middle of the picture.  The original was made by Paul S. Bieler in June of 1941, and it shows a 60 or 70 foot tree on the west side of Bowery Creek that, 70 years ago, towered above its neighbors.

This is what the area looks like today.  Again, as I have noted before, there have been few, if any, natural disturbances on this part of the forest for many years.  As a result, these canyons are dense with brush and smaller trees, and the older, larger trees are no longer visible.  I could, on the other hand, tell that there were some largish pines on the other side of the creek, so I scrambled over there.  The first one that I came to was a nice looking 20-inch ponderosa, probably 60 feet tall and maturing nicely, but could it really be a couple of hundred years old?  Without an increment borer, I couldn't be sure, so I pushed on through the brush towards the next specimen.

Bingo.  When I got to it, I was sure.  It was the Bieler tree.  A 36-inch open grown "pumpkin," a beautiful, healthy ponderosa with a plentiful cone crop and vigorous needles.  Unfortunately, it no longer grows in the open, but is becoming choked by pinyon, juniper, oak, mahogany, and its own progeny.  If it is going to survive another 71 years, until 2083, it might benefit from some thinning and under-burning.

The Black Mountains

Tiger's goal was to hike to the top of the Black Mountains.  Driving out there we agreed that what we didn't want to do was spend the whole morning walking up and down through the pinyon-juniper covered foothills, where we would have no view of our progress.  We drove to North Kane Spring and started off towards the northwest.  Pretty soon we were down in the wash, which we took to be Cottonwood Creek, and were slogging up and down through the pinyon-juniper woodlands.  We could see nothing, least of all the Black Mountains.  After about 90 minutes, and three or four miles, Tiger told me that he needed to be in Cedar City by 1p.  And that was that.  We turned around and slopped through three or four miles of muddy, pinon-juniper foothills back to the truck.  It was, I suppose, a failed mission.  But, as Tiger put it, we got some fresh air, a little exercise, and we learned something about the country.  Or, as I was thinking, we came home with the smell of thawing sagebrush in our clothes and the quick, spring song of chickadees in our ears.  We'll get to the top of the Black Mountains next week.