Windy Ridge

The wind was strong today.  Almost violent.  We climbed steeply to a ridge above the boy scout camp.  There, among another grove of bristlecones, we were buffeted to the point of drunken staggering.  But it was good.  Good views of the Markagunt and beyond.

Back Country Traffic

It took a fair amount of effort to reach this little slot canyon.  First we dragged a boat-load (literally) of gear up the Paria River.  Then, after a pleasant night in camp, we hiked a long way.  And that is all I'm going to say about it.  As you can see, the canyon has plenty of traffic already:  VSO, EDO, and Reader 3.

Ridge Bagging

EDO has, of late, become more goal oriented.  When we go out to the canyons she likes to get to the top.  A few years ago she might ask if she could stop to play with sticks and pine cones, and I would go to the top by myself.  Now, she is right on my heels.  Last week we went for a very serious thrashing but failed to reach the top—just could not pull it off and were stuck on exceptionally steep ground.  This week was similarly difficult, but we topped out on a very nice ridge, full of ancient trees:  bristlecone, Utah juniper, and two-needle pinyon.

Surrounded by Talent

As if living with one famous artist were not enough, EDO has decided that she wants to learn a little about line and perspective.  For her first lesson, she sketched the living room at The Homestead.  She captured it, don't you think?  For those who are not sure:  The sketch is above; the real thing is below.

Colonized

I wore these old Adidas running shoes in the creek one day in August.  Afterwards, I left them on the front porch to dry in the sun.  When I brought them into the house, I noticed that they were full of sticky spider webs that had collected leaves.  Today, I tried to clean out the leaves.  After some sweeping with a paper-towel and some banging on the side of the trash can, I reached in and felt something soft and rolly-polly.  It was a black widow spider.  Yikes.  I looked at the other shoe.  Inside was a second black widow, even larger than the first.  Word to the wise:  If your shoes have been on the porch, you may want to look them over before you put them on.

Nuthatch

Along with the five-needle pines come the nuthatches.  Like this one:  A red-breasted nuthatch (Sitta canadensis) hanging around to see what I am doing.  The funny thing about a nuthatch, if you watch it closely, is that it will walk down the stem of a tree, head pointed at the ground.  The funny thing about this particular nuthatch is that it has a little triangle of wind ruffled feathers on its shoulder.

A Botanical First

At the end of September, while descending to the North Fork of North Creek from the south ridge of the canyon, a colleague noticed the telltale bottle brush branching habit of a bristlecone pine on a steep north-facing ledge.  It was the first time, to my knowledge, that Great Basin Bristlecone Pine (Pinus longaeva) has been identified in the Tushar Range of central Utah.  I subsequently returned to the area last week to confirm the presence of several small groves of GBBP on five sub-ridges of the main ridge separating the North Fork of North Creek from the South Fork.  A botanical first.

Tamed

I don't much like deer.  Most country people don't, I guess.  Deer are like rats:  A nuisance.  Pests.  Eating the hay; eating the orchard; eating the garden; jumping out into the road at all hours—broken headlights and dented fenders.  City people, on the other hand, like to look at deer:  Jerk their eyes away from the TV, see a deer out the window.  Awesome!  "I saw Dancing With the Stars and Bambi in the same evening."

Anyway, I think the best way to see deer is to feed them.  This little herd, in a rural development for Las Vegas people on the Markagunt Plateau, seemed to think that I might have a head of lettuce to distribute.  "Sorry.  I'm simply here to load some firewood.  Whoever has been feeding you is in 'the cabin,' watching TV.  Now, go away."