Comb Wash, Utah

Made famous by Edward Abbey, I wandered in from the north side. The sand/clay gets deep enough to prompt Eggbert to considerations of high-centering, but momentum carried the day.


Looking North.

Southward

Shelter From The Storm

And the rains came. The view changed every few minutes so there was no lack of entertainment.

Somewhat self-consciously usurping the best seat in the house, I sat my ground for two days. In that time several interesting folks surmounted the intimidation factor and stopped to partake of the view. The first, a Norwegian Instructional Technologies (IT) specialist (John Petter Hagen) attending a conference in Las Vegas, said it all when he enthusiastically emoted: "It takes your breath away!!" We commiserated on the depredations caused by livestock. He said they have similar problems with reindeer.

The couple from Wales were vanning it and equally effusive. It's always great to meet folks whose appreciation rivals my own...and she has a sister who's an artist. Quickly employing today's technology, she whupped out her tablet and showed me some of her work. It was good enough to excite my dormant Marketeering desires. Of course it was hard to ignore the first image: multiple nude females cavorting in Matisse-esque postures with a lush and equally sensual landscape.

And last but by no means least was the man from Zurich. He was on a Suzuki motorcycle and imparted his knowledge of tires. I learned about road versus offroad pattern ratios and got to use some of my vestigial German.

But I needed shelter in which to cook. There've been a couple of occasions when I created shade, but this was my first attempt to fend off rain....so it took a while. Of course, one of the advantages of the lifestyle is the like, total disregard for expediency. As it happened, the result was better than anticipated. I was so pleased I felt compelled to THOROuGHLY document it.

Though impressed by my creativity, I later swapped the rake for a five-gallon jug.

Port side ties went to the radio antennae and the hub caps. The antennae served as a centering device with a secondary guy to the rear-view mirror taking the "weight."

Ensconced -- that's the coffeepot on the right burner. Yes, it's cowboy coffee. And it does a right fine job of growin' yer nose hare. The propane tank hails from Whitehorse, the capital of the Yukon where a kindly dealer traded me straight across for my backyard grill behemoth.

This fine photo was taken by John Petter Hagen an avid photographer with a superb collection on Flickr.





















And then one day you look in the mirror and wonder, "How'd I get so old....and phat?"

Cedar Mesa, Utah

I spent the past week roaming the area west by northwest of Blanding and Bluff. Road conditions vary with many having extended sections of what appears to be sand but is, in fact, clay.

When it gets damp it becomes slippery; and when it gets wet it forms a thick, impassable gumbo. 

I was camped near The Twist on Hole-in-the-Rock Rd when clouds started to gather. It meant leaving sooner than planned, but after an all-night rain the next evening I was glad I'd made the decision. I could move about in The Valley of The Gods without having ten pounds of mud on my feet (see next post).

For those unfamiliar, Cedar Mesa is said to have more archeological sites than anywhere else in the world. And this is the best time of year to visit. By the end of next month daytime temperatures will average 35 degrees centigrade and higher (upper nineties).

Hobb's Wash

The dome rock on the west side of Butler Wash 

includes a smaller tributary "discovered" by George Hobbs & friends one evening in the late 1800s when he was scouting a route for some Mormons. 

The view of Butler Wash can't be captured, esp with a camera that is fast-failing. Hopefully this'll be enough tuh incline yuh tuh go see fer yerse'f.

Laguna Pueblo Arts Center

Next time you're on interstate 40 about forty miles West of Albuquerque, you may wanna stop at the Laguna Indian Arts Center of New Laguna Pueblo. They have some excellent Kachinas (including a few contemporary ones wearing tennis shoes), jewelry (there are/were a couple of money clips that are especially good deals) and much more...all of which is authentic, Native American crafted work.

Watch for the Laguna Burger exit and follow old route 66 about a New York block past the gas station. The Center sits back from the highway a little. The window at the left end (with the awning) is where they dispense the fry-bread.

It's family owned and operated. If you go, please say hi to Dom (short for Dominic) for me. And don't hesitate to engage with him or his friends on topics of discussion; the place is a hot-bed of debate.

Angel Peak Scenic Area

It's a beautiful drive up highway 550 from ABQ to Farmington, but 181 miles is too far for me in one day. Fortunately, Angel Peak Scenic Area appeared. 

I scouted the campground and sure enough it was there. No water, just a couple of pit toilets, some picnic tables and fire rings. ALL the amenities!!

So I took one of the many dirt tracks leading into the surrounding oil and gas fields. It's a bit like being in the queue at the airport runway. The wells have small engines whose cumulative effect is a constant thrum. 

Roads leading down in are steep; I walked.

And when you look at all the "pads" and their impact, it's pretty hard to take seriously the bureaucratic admonition to "Leave No Trace." Der sho' ain't much out dar dat ain't already bin trayst!!


There's still snow up north.

Middlemarch IN mID-mARCH

If'n yer plannin' tuh partake of the view from Middlemarch Pass, youse oughta stop at DK Prickly Pear Emporium in Pearce. It's a tad further down S. Ghost Town Trail (road) past W. Pearce Road...on the east. Hours are Thursday through Saturday 10:30 - 4:30. 

It was here I found my first piece of china. A few weeks ago while dining with a comely young woman in Quartzsite, I made the decision to replace my plastique. Raised on Meissen's onion pattern and Rosenthal, my aesthetic is now post-moderne. I figger'd ah'd know hit when I seed it. And so it was....exclusively for Cabela's. 

And a couple of silver-plated spoons. I prefer silver or plated, but what with the mental and sight deteriorations, I have to keep an eye out (blind in one eye...that's a pun) for replacements. She charged a buck each.

You noticed on the card the shop is owned by two. And on the 14th -- of this month -- I think it was Kay Harris who waited patiently as I perused the collection. I've had the relentless ponders about going back for the (authentic) wicker picnic basket, the collection of 1950s plastic farm animals and a pair of tiny, beautifully variegated, earrings on the bottom shelf of the jewelry display case. That magnificent, collectible, totally-post-moderne plate was a mere $6.00.

Wending topward (go left at the big fork), I passed a few well-used campspots, but no beckoning nymphs. And it was meant to be...I attained the pinnacle at the ovarial moment. And as the sun's crepuscular rays illumned the valley, the distant mountains flaunted their regal purples. I pulled forth the martini shaker and settled in."It" being naught more than a wide spot in the road I nodded to Samuel Beckett (Waiting for Godot) and pushed my hair behind my ears as I bobbed my head to Sir McCartney's emotive inquiry. Fortunately, no one came by. It's that kind of place.

Without a camera (see previous post), I have only memories, which, these days, are on fast-fade. It's narrow, winding, dirt and suitable, I guess, for trailers as long as you don't want to turn around. A fine place to piddle.