Flowers, Unchained

It has generally been my observation that wildflowers blossom in sequence.  In other words, they are adapted to bloom a different times during the spring, and not everything flowers at once.  Well, that may be true in general, but it seems incorrect in specific.  Anywhere you walk in the hills right now, everything is blooming.  We were out yesterday and counted at least a dozen different flowers—from claret cups to lilies.  But, the most impressive display was by the purple sage (Salvia dorrii, pictured below).  It is a favorite of VSO's, and we've noticed it from time to time, but yesterday we were walking through gardens of it.

Scrambling

I've been to this little arch before.  By myself.  It's a bit of a scramble.  But, the girls wanted to try it yesterday.  Using hands and feet.

Power Down

I know it is a First World problem, and that complaining about it makes us seem spoiled, but the power supply at Rural Ways is frequently interrupted.  Power "bumps" are routine, and the odd 12-hour outage happens several times per year.  It is hard to know what is going on, but this could be part of it:  Some of the hundred-year-old wooden poles need to be replaced.  This one snapped off yesterday at ground level and replanted itself six feet away.  The power surged, but stayed on, and the power company fixed the problem with a boom truck.  I hope they have a lot of trucks.

Anxiety

As one who suffers from a bit of acrophobia, unroped, fifth-class moves over 500 feet of air make me somewhat nervous.  But watching my daughter make those same moves causes serious anxiety.  Yesterday, when we wanted to hike in a certain canyon, but could find no way down, we ended up sliding off the end of the rock pyramid pictured above.  We had a good hike, but I couldn't enjoy it because I was so worried about getting out of there.  In the event, EDO scampered to the top without any hesitation, but I was a nervous wreck until we were well away from the edge.

No Man's

Buckhorn Wash is really nice at this time of year.  But, as anyone who has seen it lately can attest, it has been completely overrun by the motor crowd.  Coming from me, I'm sure it sounds like an exaggeration, but it's not.  We passed one camp of at least 14 monster campers—pop-outs and satellite dishes—along with the requisite number of motorcycles, ATVs, rhinos, and I don't know what-all.  I said 14.  In one camp.  Every RV has a huge truck to pull it, plus another truck so the wife can pull the trailer stacked with ATVs.  We were only trying to leave, but I bet we passed another 45 vehicles crowding into the canyon.

To get away from it all, EDO and I found ourselves on the trail to No Man's Mountain.  We never found it.  The mountain, that is.  But we were on the trail for a couple of hours.  We saw petrified wood, mollusk fossils, and dozens of wildflowers.  We heard no motors.  Good.