I may have mentioned in passing that it has been dry. Well. It has been very dry. The last wetting rain (.10 inches of moisture) in Castle Valley was at Thanksgiving: We haven't had rain or snow in nearly 70 days. Winter is normally the wet season so it is not a good start to the year.
When the dry, but cold, weather allows, I've been doing some work on ponderosa pine in Joes Valley. Today, I invited VSO to join me in the valley so that she could check out an alcove that may have been used in archaic times. Later, after I complained that she was interested only in anthropology, she also helped me with a tree.
The forecast was dire, but the reality has been reasonable: The north winds are steady at 25 MPH and the temperatures have been mid-teens (with corresponding wind chills of 3F to 6F), but if you pull up the hood and keep moving, it's not too bad. Beyond that, the sunsets are beautiful and the trails are quiet.
It hasn't necessarily been warm this winter, but we've generally avoided the bitter cold weather. Until now. The forecast is for single digits overnight and daytime wind chills below zero. When I am working in the woods, I often need bare fingers (to get the core in the straw for one), so I decided to stock up on some field data yesterday—the last warm day. I found this pine in Joes Valley. It is 120 feet tall and 44 inches in diameter. A monster for this part of the world. Unfortunately, it took 10 tries for the cutting screw on the increment borer to catch. I got just one core.
I've walked the Double Dog on a few occasions before when I've had a little extra time. I planned to do it on Thursday, too, but got to the road in the dark and decided not to complete the full north loop. Yesterday, I started a little earlier and finished in about 90 minutes. I thought it was at least five miles, but I tracked it and came back with 4.8. Actually, when you track it, Avenza gives you all the details: 471 feet of elevation gain (and loss); 1:32:28 total moving time; 3.14 MPH average moving speed; 19.16 minute/mile. Slow for a runner, but fast for a walker I guess.
Yesterday we went into Ernie's Canyon for a couple of miles. Nothing too spectacular: VSO found a couple of pictographs and EDO climbed the scree for a closer look at a small arch. We can give it more time later, though: You can get to the mouth of the canyon (from Price) in about 90 minutes.
Normally, I would not set foot on a National Park Service trail, but EDO thought that today would be a good day for Navajo Knobs. VSO and I agreed to go with her. It wasn't awful: We probably encountered four or five parties (which is six too many for me), but after we summited we had the return trip to ourselves.
The Park Service says that the entire trail is 4.7 miles from the parking lot to the Knob, with 1620 feet of elevation gain. VSO eventually dropped out, but we made the 9.4 mile round trip (3,240 vert) in exactly four and a half hours. EDO walks fast! And is good with punctuation.
We spent yesterday scrambling through the canyons at the head of Tantalus Creek looking for a couple more sites documented by Morss in his 1931 monograph. We were not completely successful, but did certainly find our way to "Site 16." According to Morss, the cave had originally been fronted by a wall of "cedar" woven with willow and daubed with mud. By the late 1920s, the construction of the Bowns Reservoir had raised the water table, filling the cave with seeps and springs, and causing the roof to collapse.
He noted that there were 20 feet of undamaged wall at the east end of the cave when he visited the site. As you can see, above, the eastern roof has fallen, too, and the only thing remaining are a few pieces of juniper that originally supported the "cedar" wall. The cave is now a swamp, filled with willow and river birch. For me, the highlight of the afternoon was checking out this beautiful old ponderosa that we found growing on the rim of the canyon.
We made it about four miles up Sheet's Gulch before we encountered a pool we couldn't cross. EDO said that we'd probably need to get down into the water. It was in the forties, so not too cold, but there was a strong north wind. We would have needed to strip below the waist, ford the pool, climb over a five foot chock stone, and then get dressed again. Plus, we were on our way out and had to come back.
So we turned around and tried a side canyon. It developed into an hour long foray, but got us thinking about side canyon jumbles. If you wanted to put some time into it, there were dozens of places that you could try scrambling to the rim. The other benefit of a shorter hike is that we had time to goof around at the arch.
We agreed, though I'm not sure that VSO was committed to it, to try the alternate route up Fern's Nipple. By alternate, I don't mean another trail, but full-on, backcountry route finding. It took us more than three hours to get to the top (reach the teat, ahem). (I'm adding a second image, below, to illustrate the summit climb.)
At that point, I was seriously worried that we wouldn't be able to make it back to the Chev before dark. Fortunately, EDO saved the day by finding the tourist route and leading us down. Six to seven miles across 3,200 vertical feet of rugged backcountry in six hours. We reached the truck by 5:30p. I was impressed.
In 1931, Noel Morss published his "Report on the Explorations under the Caflin-Emerson Fund, 1928-1929," in which he described numerous Fremont sites studied and at least partially excavated by a team from Harvard University. Many of the sites are in the vicinity of the Fremont River and the Waterpocket Fold, which are near (or in) Capitol Reef National Park.
Yesterday, VSO and I went into Spring Gulch to see a number of the rock shelters that Morss included in his paper (and probably some that were not). We noted potsherds, stone tools, ground stone, and possible pictographs. It was a nice day for late December and we made it a couple of miles upstream (and back) before dark.
Ever since we got the Thanksgiving snow storm, the roads in the Swell have been muddy. Yesterday we planned a trip to Short Canyon, but didn't make it. I chickened out. In some places it is snotty enough that you could wind up in the ditch.
So, we wandered some of the broken boulders beneath the Molen Reef looking for pictographs. (We didn't find any.)
I was planning to drive to the saddle between Horse and Range, but the Chev skidded out on a steep switchback in the snow. So, I parked it and we walked from there. We probably could have made it to the saddle in about an hour, but decided to dive off onto the ridge above the road after about 40 minutes.
It was a good choice. It took at least two hours to cover the ridge and slide down the shoulder to the road. The ground was steep but, aside from one ill-advised fifth-class move that nearly left me with a cracked skull, we managed to keep our footing all the way down.
We were just beyond the mouth of Saddle Horse Canyon and it was past 2p. That doesn't sound very late, but it had taken us two hours to walk there and two hours to drive there, so we were looking at being back in Price by 6p (at the earliest), which is well after dark at this time of year. On EDO's Avenza map, it showed a nearby foot trail running straight up the canyon wall to the rim, which could possibly turn our return slog into a short loop.
I was somewhat doubtful that the trail existed, and even more doubtful that we could find it in the snow. But, there it was: An old horse trail that zig-zagged up the slickrock and put us in position to loop back to the Chev by 3:45p. We were in town by 5:30p.
Out at the Wedge, the BLM has built the Goodwater Trail, a 14 mile non-motorized trail along the rim. My understanding is that it is a popular trail and, given all the dog shit, graffiti, and ad hoc fire rings, I don't doubt it. Which is why I agreed to go only on the first Sunday of winter.
EDO wanted to run from the west trailhead to the east trailhead and I was the shuttle driver. In the event, we saw just one overlander bro (with dog) and he was leaving. EDO finished in two and a half hours. I asked if she would want to do it again (on another day) and she said, "Yes." Might need to find another shuttle driver.
We've been out here before, looking for the route from the Smith Cabin to the top of the Horse Thief Trail. Today we found it, all three of us walking from the road to the saddle in two and a half hours.
Coming from the other side, EDO and I had climbed from the river to the saddle two years ago. Now we've reconnoitered both halves and lack only a committed shuttle driver to set us up for a through hike.
After all the snow we saw yesterday, I thought it was time to set the first track of the season. I drove to my favorite ski ridge at the top of Indian Canyon with the Karhus in the Chev. And then I went for a walk in my ski boots.
Before we left I assured VSO, "there is no new snow, we will not be post-holing, we will be able to park near any tree we want to cut." In the event, I was incorrect on all counts. There were eight inches of new snow on the highway (above), we were not able to park (but instead got stuck in a frozen plow berm, below), and were forced to post-hole for an hour before we found a tree to cut.
Worst of all, once we decided on a tree, VSO's picture of it made Rural Ways look like a wild-eyed serial killer (below).
In Price, the north wind usually blows all day at 30 MPH. For the last week, though, it has been still. And sunny. And mid-forties. These are very nice conditions. If you're working in the woods in forty degree weather, and the sun is on you, and the wind isn't blowing, you can do it in a flannel shirt. There is currently a little snow at 7,200 feet, but it, too, is benign.
