If I hadn't seen it wid me own eyes, I'd not have believed.
I got off the freeway and stopped to think about things. It wuz then I noticed the overflowing barrels and piles of trash stacked round.
Rather than call, I emailed the Nevada Department of Transportation. Three days later, when I came back, I couldn't believe my eyes!
Its a miracle!
Toward late afternoon it began to clear.
I discovered this place in 2016 or thereabouts and was last here in 2018.
The large, barrel cactuses coquettishly hide themselves amongst the creosote and Joshua trees.
Below is a three-minute video of images of Bears Ears National Monument. It incudes photos by Josh Ewing, former Executive Director of Friends of Cedar Mesa.
Here's a link to the Friends announcement of the restoration.
Slickrock near Bluff, Utah
(South side of Bears Ears)
A favored source of entertainment is button-holing folks and proselytizing on behalf of Western Watersheds Project and Advocates for the West. I've been pleasantly surprised at how many people are aware of the depratory (I also enjoy making up words) impact of livestock and are receptive to my litanies.
We were taking our time moving westward. After a two-day layover outside Flagstaff, we felt ready to ride, but by Kingman, Arizona we were tired. Garmin maps showed a road going north into the desert at the Franconia Rd exit.
There's nothing to see in this image; it's simply a memento
(though the bidet thinks it adds a juanty spin)
After a high-speed traverse of deep sand, first one way, then coming back, I had to admit the road wasn't there. With no energy to explore further, we made camp between the freeway and the railroad tracks...a mistake. The trains ran every 20 minutes until midnight, then about once an hour. The freeway didn't get quiet until around 1:30 a.m.
It'd been hot in the afternoon and I'd parked across from her to take advantage of the shade from her camper. At 3:00 a.m. two pickups managed to squeeeeeze between our vehicles. They honked (warningly, annoyedly?) as they roared off.
Soon several other vehicles arrived and baaaarely managed to get through. Then came A REALLY BIG truck. I sat up and flashed my headlights to let 'em know I was there. I got out, pulled on muh pants, moved the water jugs and cooler out from behind Phoebe, threw the luggage from the hood inside and moved the box off the driver's seat. I then backed to the other side of the road and parked. We watched -- she'd gotten up to see what was going on -- as several LARGE rigs drove by. The string of lights grew as people accumulated near some heavy equipment we'd seen parked on and next to the tracks. Soon it was all going.
We didn't get much sleep and in the morning dragged ourselves around, bemoaning the bizarreness of it all. An "inspector" stopped by and said he didn't know where the Main People were from but all the workers were local; they'd been told to be at the job-site at 3:00 a.m. It sounded just plain cruel.
Fortunately, around 11 p.m. the night before, I'd made a reservation at the Holiday Inn in Victorville. It took us 3.5 hours to travel the 130 miles. Our spliffoes were drooping so badly we could barely haul our stuff up to the room. Supper was delightful though as we emptied her refrigerator. She's heading into the city and will be well-fed from here on.
Spliffoes are the poochy parts on a (tabby) cat's face
where their whiskers come out
For those unfamiliar, here's what spliffoes normally look like
We stopped at Kayenta for gas. A short distance away a gentleman was selling some yellow round things. I went over to see.
"Canaries," he called 'em. Said they were from Utah and he'd nearly sold out the eight thousand pounds he'd brought down. The cheapest was five dollars, out of my budget these days. We chatted a bit about our heritages and he decided that since I was a foreigner, in the heart of Navajo Land, he'd gift me with one.
There's something about accepting a gift from someone whose family has suffered -- and is still subject to -- untold miseries at the hands of the dominant culture.
It was one of the sweetest, most delicious cantaloupes I've ever eaten.
Keep It Wild (cap)
Time for Coffee!
(Imusa stove-top espresso maker)
According to this book I come by it genetically.
Whilst exploring near Mexican Hat, this (apparently) purposefully-placed specimen appeared. I've never seen green before. And the size is kinda small for coyote, my first guess.
Monocline
Two miles north of Mexican Hat Rock, at the junction of highways 163 and 261, if you look south, the eroded face of the monocline presents -- when the sun is further over than in this picture -- a beautiful pattern of waves and colors. (Worth stopping for.)
It was raining and EVERYONE ELSE was either -- depending on their vehicle -- taking advantage of the gravel-topped surface or heading for pavement. There was FAR too much traffic. We went looking for a quieter place....and found it just up the road.
In the morning the sky continued to clear and we enjoyed the solitude. Though this being in "the window" of when the temperatures are the best, the hordes are arriving.
