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

Return To Dolores River

Confluence of the Dolores and the San Miguel.

The Dolores River in southwest Colorado is one of the lonesomest. Which also makes it one of the loveliest. Of course.

Born in the high snow fed mountains of the San Juan Range in southwest Colorado, it empties onto the high and dry Colorado Plateau near the towns of Dolores and then Cortez, Colorado. There it is pretty much choked off by the dam that impounds McPhee Reservoir. 

But below the dam it still has a long way to go before it empties into the Colorado River above Moab in southeast Utah. Having carved a mighty but relatively short gorge, it re-emerges at Bedrock, in the Paradox Valley (appropriate name?). Limping down another impressive canyon, it's rejuvenated by the cold, clear (except for the cow shit along its banks) San Miguel River, a good flyfishing trout steam. Thankfully. Because it still has quite a ways to go, and it surely would rather look better by the time it gets there. 

As I followed it down, I couldn't help but to urge it on. Especially on a clear, crisp high country April Colorado day. 

Dolores River, Colorado.

Photo locations: San Miguel County, Colorado.

© 2015 Stephen J. Krieg

Not The Magic Bus

The non-magic bus, and the Henry Mountains.

A windy early spring day on the Colorado Plateau in southeast Utah. I'd been driving and photographing since about 6 AM. A wonderful day. Now it was time to head home, wearily. 

I left Hanksville, itself a rather lonesome but friendly little town in the middle of nowhere, after enjoying a buffalo burger at "Stan's Burger Shak". Thus fortified, I drove east on Highway 95, one of the wonderfully lonesomest roads anywhere. 

The bulk of the Henry Mountains -- last mountain range in the U.S. to be explored and mapped -- loomed above the low cliffs south of town. It had been windy all day, and the dust made for a thick haze in the air. (As the motel owner in Hanksville had joked the previous evening, the sand here is so fine that it comes through the walls. Not just the windows and door frames. Bragging rights.)

Then, out on the high sagebrush plain, amidst the free ranging cows, was that RV again. I pulled over to photograph it, again. It's kind of creepy looking, being out there all alone, no visible road to have driven it there on. Busted out windows, door gaping open. Graffiti sprayed all over the side. Before or after its abandonment? Who? Why?

Mysterious. And so it deserves my Lonesomest RV In Utah award. Somebody let me know who to mail the award to, won't you?

Photo location: Wayne County, Utah. Maybe Garfield County. Somewhere near the county line. 

© 2015 Stephen J. Krieg

Between Nowhere And Glen Canyon

At the trailhead of Collins Canyon

Early March, southeast Utah. It's been two weeks since the last snow here, things have dried out a lot under the high desert sun. The days keep getting longer, sunlight wise. I decided to stretch my vehicle's wheels a bit after work. 

Highway 276, toward the cliffs of Glen Canyon, and Navajo Mountain.

On the highway to Glen Canyon at Halls Crossing, I soaked up some low evening rays at Grand Flat. Cedar Mesa slickrock sandstone. Scattered pinyons and junipers. Clear mountain air. Blue sky and, the ultimate touch, rain curtain clouds to the east. 

Evening light, Grand Flats.

Finally, it was time to watch a rain curtain become lit up by the sunset. I almost didn't want to go back home. 

Sunset clouds, Highway 95.

Though home is temporary, so I will be back.

San Juan County, Utah, how I admire you.

© 2015 Stephen J. Krieg

The Spanish Peaks, Colorado

[The Spanish Peaks, from near La Veta, Colorado] 

Lonesome Valley Steve was in southern Colorado this time. On my way down into New Mexico. Just for a few days.

Across southern Colorado from Cortez to Pagosa Springs, across Wolf Creek Pass ("...way up on the Great Divide, truckin' on down the other siii-iiide..." if you know the song. If not, never mind.). 

[Blanca Peak, and neighbors, east of Alamosa, Colorado.] 

After Alamosa was Blanca Peak to the north. One of the Fourteeners, you know. A darn good looking peak, even if it had way too little snow for January. Climate change, get used to it. It's not going to go away. 

Refueled at Monte Vista, still shaking my head at how far gas prices have fallen in a year. Not complaining, though. 

Approaching Walsenburg and I-25, I saw the turnoff onto Colorado 12, south to La Veta and the Spanish Peaks. I took it. Seventy miles of slower mountain road south to Trinidad, but beautiful and...Lonesome lovely. Lonesome Valley Days for sure.

[Downtown La Veta, Colorado, January sunset time.]

La Veta is one of those tiny mountain towns that just make me want to up and move there. Even though all the side streets are unpaved. Which, between winter and summer means mud streets. 

Further south, after dark, I even caught the sight of a mountain lion that had just crossed the road, ambling on down to the creek bottom. Good medicine. 

Photo locations: Alamosa, Costilla, and Las Animas Counties, southern Colorado. 

© 2015 Stephen J. Krieg

High Desert Winter Sunset, Southeast Utah

[Navajo Mountain in the distance, from Natural Bridges National Monument] 

It's been so still here these winter days. For weeks, with not much breeze. Oh, one more winter storm to freshen things up, then back to stillness.

In the middle of winter, stillness has its advantages. Especially on the high Colorado Plateau in southeast Utah. Cold nights but sunny days. Without wind, the sun feels extra warm. 

An atmospheric inversion of unprecedented longevity has been around for something like a month. Nobody around here has seen this. Fog clouds hanging down in the river bottoms: Colorado River, San Juan River. It moves around a little without leaving. 

[Cedar Mesa Sunset panorama, from Natural Bridges] 

Up here on Cedar Mesa, we're above it. We watch it from afar. People call up here to see if it's foggy way up here, too. Nope, we say. Come on up and bask in the winter sun. 

Being a dedicated sunset watcher, I always find myself scanning the skies to the west in late afternoon. How will the sunset colors be? It all depends on the clouds, because they are the reflectors. Or they close the curtain completely. Or they are totally absent, in which case the sunset is merely, um, nice. 

[Navajo Mountain from across Cedar Mesa at sunset.] 

So here are some from a recent evening here. The inversion was still nuzzling about in the distance. It made the high buttes and cliffs even more prominent. 

Photo location: Natural Bridges National Monument, San Juan County, Utah.