Ghosts Of The Cowboys: Vermilion Cliffs, Arizona Strip

Highway 89A on the Arizona Strip.

Early November, and back to the Arizona Strip. That lonely, austere, beautiful high desert land between Grand Canyon and the Utah state line.

Welcome to the Vermilion Cliffs National Monument.

The Marble Platform, the flat shelf above the Marble Canyon portion of the Grand Canyon of the Colorado River. Sagebrush and saltbush and bare soil in between. Soil and stones and bedrock. 

The Vermilion Cliffs and approaching early winter storm.

And lots of blue sky, normally. But not today. Winter was approaching, and I wanted to be there.

I might be that rare person that, when the weather forecast indicates a snow storm coming into an area, I head for it instead of away. Well, at least in late fall I do. I love the changing of the seasons. And not being sweaty just by sitting outside doing nothing at the time, relaxing. And not having to clean the bug guts off the windshield yet again that day.

Simple things.

The clouds were very low, enveloping the Kaibab Plateau just to the west. Snowing up there. But not down here on the Platform. Not yet. If the weather forecaster man in Flagstaff was right, it would be snowing right about this elevation -- 5,000 feet -- before the day was done. So I was hopeful.

Vermilion Cliffs cowboy cabin ruin.

From Highway 89A I drove onto a sandy BLM (Bureau of Land Management) road that headed straight north toward the Cliffs. It was a spot I'd visited before, and it had an historic red rock cowboy cabin ruin.

Cowboy cabin light and shadows. The roof is gone, but not the rafters.

I walked out back of the cabin to take in more of the scenery, of the brilliant light. The corrals are still there. It was clear that this had been no quick, thrown-together deal. A lot of work had gone into it. A cement truck had been driven back here, for the poured concrete foundation of the cabin, and the cement watering or feeding troughs out back, I don't know which.

Corrals and winter storm light, Vermilion Cliffs.

Stock pens and approaching storm clouds, Vermilion Cliffs.

Cowboy cabin ruin and Vermilion Cliffs.

Approaching winter storm, Vermilion Cliffs, Arizona Strip.

Corral, Cliffs, and storm clouds.

Storm clouds, red sand, and sagebrush.

I imagined living there. I'm no cowboy. Just a naturalist, a lover of nature, the land. But just like back then, you have to have a livable income. Otherwise you will have to leave, and your house will start aging back into the landscape.

Photo location: Marble Platform and Vermilion Cliffs National Monument, Coconino County, Arizona.

© Copyright 2015 Stephen J. Krieg

Kaibab Plateau Springtime

[Photo: Afternoon sun through aspen-fir forest, Kaibab National Forest] 

Mid May on the 8,000 foot-plus elevation Kaibab Plateau in northern Arizona means early springtime. This year was cooler there than last, somewhat wetter. With the way the climate's changing, probably a lot warmer than historically. 

It is what it is. It's still an incredible place. High sub-alpine forests growing out of the bowing back of upthrust rock layers that at its southern edge forms the North Rim of Grand Canyon. 

Grand Canyon gets almost all the attention. And at the North Rim, only 10% of the visitation of the South Rim. Thus the many roads on the Kaibab National Forest outside the Park are even more unknown to the masses.

As they should be. High, wild, lonesome. For those not in a hurry. Those with a vehicle that can take rough roads. Who know enough to have plenty of fuel, food, water.

Like me.

The air was clear, crisp. Between storm fronts. The aspen leaves were emerging after another winter. It was greening up. 

I was glad to be back. It had been a year since I'd seen this place like this. A half year since leaving it. 

Lots to think over. 

Photo location: Kaibab National Forest, North Kaibab Ranger District, Arizona Strip.

© 2015 Stephen J. Krieg

Echo Cliffs Road Restored

Bus climbing US Hwy. 89 through the Echo Cliffs, Arizona.

It had been two years since a landslide took a section of US Highway 89 in northern Arizona for a ride. Down the cliff face, rather at odds with which the traffic had been traveling.

It's a spectacular area. High desert, overlooking the Marble Platform area of Grand Canyon. A nice highway cutting through the Echo Cliffs between Page and Bitter Spring, Arizona. Then one night: whoosh. Or whatever it sounded like. Probably not whoosh, though.

Fortunately no one was driving on that section of road that night. 

Being a geologically unstable slope, it took a lot of engineering work, and money, to fix it. It took longer than expected, too. But they did. Now it's open once again.

Enjoy.

Photo location: US Highway 89 between Bitter Springs and Page, Coconino County, Arizona.

© 2015 Stephen J. Krieg

Fall Colors Again At Last: North Rim and Kaibab Plateau

[Photo: Aspen colors, Forest Service Road 610, Kaibab National Forest, Arizona]

From Lonesome Valley I drove 300 miles north to live for the season on the Kaibab Plateau, at the North Rim of Grand Canyon National Park. From springtime up there (mid May) straight through to fall. Camping, camping, camping. They said it was too cold when I got there in the spring. Then after I breezed through that they said, oh wait until the monsoon thunderstorm season. But I cruised through that, too. After that they said, you really are here for the duration, aren't you?

They usually underestimate me. I'm a native of the Allegheny Mountains of northern Pennsylvania, and have been wandering the woods almost all my life. Plus 14 years as a forester in Oregon, Washington, Colorado, Montana and Maine. And many wilderness trips in other states.

I'm a backwoods boy. A backcountry boy. Maybe a modern day mountain man. It seems like I'm always waiting for something. Waiting to go to the next place, I guess. Sometimes it's not so comfortable, but most of the time it's one thing: freedom.

This year it has been the freedom to live at the North Rim the entire season, to explore it as I never could with any number of weekend trips. It's been day by day. 

Now it's fall, time for the aspen colors. The best time of year. After the leaves drop I will be waiting for the first snowfall. Waiting, waiting.