Hancock Peak

Today we went to the Hancock Peak Trail.  I thought we were behind the storm, and I gave EDO my rain jacket to use as a wind-breaker.  In the event, I was right:  We heard some rumblings and walked in the wind, but the storm had moved on, it never hit us.  It was beautiful, though, cool and almost dark.

Drought Check at the Pond

Last year we went out to the pond at the end of June.  It was dry:  Evidence of the strengthening drought.  This year, too.  I went there with EDO today and found it unchanged from last season.  The wetland uphill from the pond is flowing (above), but the pond itself is dry (below).

Summit Picnic

I was very sorry that VSO couldn't join me because she would have truly enjoyed it, but I did make it to Summit Park last night for a picnic with Mark and Kristi.  When I left Salt Lake, it was 107F, but by the time we sat down to dinner, the clouds were dark and the wind was blowing fir needles into our spruce vodka.  As my reader might know, M and K are excellent company and, by the time I left, it was 68F:  A very good end to a long hot day.

A Tale of Two Lodgings

We have often lived apart over the past several years.  This week, we needed care for VSO.  Unfortunately, that meant that she spent many days in an institution:  St. Mark's hospital (above).  I, on the other hand, had more freedom, and lived alone in the bee loud glade (below).  I hope that we will soon be together again.  Living with bees, not institutions.

Look Up, Look Down

Yesterday, EDO and I hiked the loop around Brian Head Peak.  It seems like we do it once a year.  It is a very nice hike, though, and maybe we should go more often.  On the back side, it was the clouds that were dramatic.  On the front, the fields of penstemon were brighter than I've ever seen them.  There were two purple-blue species blooming together—the Markagunt and Rydberg's.  The architecture of each is different, but the color is identical.

Sawmill Canyon

Whenever you encounter a place with the name of "sawmill," you can bet that lumber was produced there a hundred years ago.  I don't know how many small sawmills there were around southern Utah prior to 1950, but it was a lot.  For many years, these one-saw sawmills were powered by steam, and the only thing left at many of these sites is the old boiler.  The boilers were constructed in such a way that they don't burn up, they don't rust away, and they are too big to move.  Last week, I went for a hike in Sawmill Canyon.

Halfway to the Ridge

Yesterday, I went to Argyle Canyon, drove east for a couple of miles, and then tried FR152, which goes up the ridge to the National Forest.  Unfortunately the road is not suitable for full-sized vehicles, so I parked near the bottom and started walking.  A thundershower struck at that moment and created near-comfortable conditions for hiking.  In addition, it is wildflower season, and the owl clover was beautiful.  When I got about halfway up, the clouds cleared, the sun popped out, and the temperatures immediately rose by about 150 degrees.  That was it for me.  I turned and headed for the A/C.  On the way down, I stopped in a little creek to dip my head in the cascade.