Kachina Natural Bridge, January

[Kachina Bridge, from the west buttress.]

Natural Bridges National Monument in southeast Utah is the only place in the world with three massive natural stone bridges in such close proximity to each other. 

I decided to revisit the youngest of the three, Kachina Bridge. The trail was free of ice from the past two storms, because there it faces almost west, and so it gets afternoon sun in the low light of winter. 

Down the stone trail, across slickrock and down some stone steps cut into the bedrock, or built upon it. One short ladder section, bolted to the cliff and polished smooth by the hands and boots of many hikers. 

[Kachina Bridge, west face, halfway down the trail.] 

Down to the canyon bottom. The stones and soft sand of the stream bed. Down underneath the belly of the massive stone beast arching above. 

Nice afternoon light. 

I climbed the sand embankment at the west buttress. Photographed a pile of massive boulders created by the most recent shedding of rock from the bridge above, in the 1990's. 

Then photographed some ancient (700 years ago, plus) artwork on the stone buttresses. The Hopi say they can trace these symbols to their ancestral clans, before they migrated to the Hopi mesas down in northeast Arizona. 

Incredible to ponder.

[Bighorn sheep petroglyph and yellow hands pictographs, Kachina Bridge.] 

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

© 2015 Stephen J. Krieg

Snowy Peaks, Red Rock Canyons

[Comb Ridge, San Juan County, Utah] 

A local friend calls Highway 95 west from Blanding, Utah "the road to the good stuff". And she should know, having combed this region for about 30 years. 

So I was again driving Hwy. 95 west, savoring the sights as usual. Up and through the massive cut in the red sandstone at the crest of Comb Ridge. Then down the west side, crossing Comb Wash. And up onto Cedar Mesa, the million-acre wild land with all the rugged canyons cut into its sides. Where everybody comes to hike down in to see the ancient Anasazi / Ancestral Puebloan cliff dwelling ruins that were last inhabited about 700 years ago. Great stuff. Part of my friend's "good stuff". 

Pulling over at a favorite viewpoint where I could see north from the lip of Cedar Mesa, I enjoyed the view toward Comb Ridge and the distant Abajo, or Blue, Mountains west of Blanding and Monticello. 

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[Abajo Mountains through the clouds, from Cedar Mesa] 

This sums up a lot of what I appreciate about San Juan County: red rock canyons and snow capped mountains. Geology, archaeology, ecological diversity, and plenty of it.

© 2015 Stephen J. Krieg

Snowscapes in Slickrock Country

[Butler Wash area in snow, San Juan County.] 

A lovely mid winter storm in southeast Utah. Canyon Country, Four Corners Country. Perfect snow, and I was in the mood for roaming outdoors again.

From Blanding west on Highway 95. Such a wonderfully lonesome road. Unless you consider the seeming suicidal deer, which can instantly decide that somehow the other side of the road must be the safer side. 

On this morning, though, the snowstorm had the deer bedded down in the trees, in the draws, out of harm's way. So the highway was mine.

I had plenty of time. Thus a diversion: stop and hike the short (half mile) trail to the viewpoint of Butler Wash Ruins. 

[Snowy bench, Butler Wash] 

"Ruins," as in the remains of ancient pueblos, tucked under a massive sandstone cliff. I had visited there before, even hiked down into the Wash and up to the ruins themselves. But today I would content myself with confining myself to the trail to the overlook. It should be beautiful, and slippery enough without being even more adventuresome.

[700-year-old (or so) pueblo ruins.] 

I was the first one through the virgin snow that day. It was still so overcast, and the snow so white, that it was hard to discern the lay of the trail. So I stumbled and slid a bit, taking care not to fall. My goal was to make it to the viewpoint without putting my traction aids on my boots, just to see whether I could. 

I decided I couldn't. Or at least shouldn't. The experiment was complete, so I stretched them over my soles and enjoyed a much more confident trek.

[Pull-on traction devices, huge difference.]

At the ruins overlook, I made my photos and video of the wide mouthed alcoves in the cliff across the way. Then I started back toward the trailhead. The view to the south caught my eye, so I strayed off trail across the sandstone slickrock. The tiny intermittent stream was flowing down through the snow. Beautiful, sensual patterns in the perfect snow.

[Small pools in the slick rock.] 

[Sideways slickrock stream.]  

 

[Snowflakes on ice veneer, on pool.] 

[Prickly pear cactus in the snow.] 

Photo location: San Juan County, southeast Utah.

Prints and photo products are available on my Fine Art America sales website:
http://stephen-krieg.pixels.com/

© 2015 Stephen J. Krieg 

The Clouds Part

Highway 95, west of Natural Bridges, Utah.

Utah Highway 95, down along White Canyon. No cell service, no problem. Because I'd rather be using my camera, anyway.

An inversion still had the cloud cover down low. But not all the way to the river. Sweet. I could play both sides of it just by driving along.

Fresh snow, fog, blue skies, red rock cliffs. A highway so lonesome you only see a few cars in an hour.

Photo location: San Juan County, southeast Utah.

Down White Canyon

Utah Highway 14, east of Hanksville, Utah.

 The highway goes on forever. Doesn't it?

Shouldn't it?

Christmas Across Southern Utah

Bryce Canyon National Park, Utah, Christmas morning.

My Christmas day started at Bryce Canyon National Park. It had been a while since I'd been back up there (over 8,000 feet in elevation) and I'd headed into a snow storm. Literally. I'd gone there when I saw a storm was coming in, and met it. It's the Mountain Man Way. 

But I had to get home that day, over 250 miles to the east. So I couldn't linger too long at Bryce, unless I wanted to stay a second night and drive back very early in the dark. I didn't.

Near Tropic, Utah. Love the cliffs and canyon country.

So it was down to Tropic (Is it really that warm? Not today). Beautiful country with the cliffs around the valley. This is the upper reach of the immense Paria River watershed, which only ends where it empties into the Colorado River at Lees Ferry, Arizona. A long, long, long way downstream.

Paria River at Tropic, Utah.

I love the small towns that dot southern Utah. And there aren't many of them. To this day it's still wild, rugged country. The locals are very friendly, which I've noticed is the norm when the people are few and they depend on each other. And outsiders, tourists, which are a big part of the economy around here these days. Spend some money enjoying our beautiful area; we love showing it off if you'll respect it, too. 

Highway 12 cuts through the cliffs.

I sure respect it. I enjoy rural highways with almost no other cars on them. It makes it so much easier to pull off on a second's notice to take yet another photo. 

Which I did a lot of on this trip. It was snowing a lot, but the road was fine, mostly. Nothing my trusty RAV4 couldn't handle without sliding. 

Approaching Henrieville, Utah.

Then on to Escalante. I like that town. Another vow to visit again, who knows what might happen? Just outside town was a very nice tribute to the Hole In The Rock pioneers of 1879-1880. Yes, in December and January, too. A feat that amazes us to this day. 

Escalante, Utah outskirts. The clouds were even opening up.

So it was on to Boulder, Utah. Boulder Town it says on the map. Maybe to distinguish it from the much more famous City of Boulder perched on the Front Range in Colorado. At any rate, this Boulder sits at the head of the Burr Trail, an incredible road that winds down through the Waterpocket Fold, which is a cool name in itself. 

Grand Staircase-Escalante National Monument from Highway 12 overlook, west of Boulder, Utah.

Besides, Utah's Boulder sits near the Circle Cliffs, amazing sandstone cliffs that...well, aren't straight. They have joints in their slickrock faces that make plates in the rock that I suspect were the inspiration for The Thing's body in The Fantastic Four. Oh, go ahead and laugh. Then check out my photos. Yeah. "It's clobberin' time!".

Circle Cliffs in snow, Boulder, Utah.

Looking down the upper Burr Trail.

I really wanted to camp there at the upper end of the Burr Trail, with the Circle Cliffs. So beautiful, especially with the new coating of snow, like marshmallow creme or confectioner's sugar wiped across them. Next time, I vowed. May there always be a next time. Some of them do come true. 

Highway 12 above Boulder goes up and over a shoulder of the Aquarius Plateau, also nicknamed Boulder Mountain. Whatever. It does go high into aspen forest, with splendid views to the south of the vast lands around here. Out there. The kind of view that leaves you wanting to put everything into perspective. Wanting to visit it all. Knowing you never will explore it all, but the effort will be its own reward. 

Down off Boulder Mountain. Time to cross the upper end of Capitol Reef National Park. And by now it was late afternoon on a late December day. Meaning a short winter day, sunset coming soon. Talk about burning daylight. Got to get in all that I can in such a short time, because then it will just be a drive in the dark. 

Stay tuned.

December Weather Finally Arrives in Canyon Country

[Outside the snowy Visitor Center, Natural Bridges National Monument, Utah.]

I was up this morning well before dawn, as usual. Soon after I could hear the rain falling on the roof: the promised storm front had moved inland from California all the way to southeast Utah. 

But soon after...no sound. It was getting light, so I looked outside and saw snow falling. The rain had become the white stuff that quickly. Falling straight down, no wind. A wet, heavy, beautiful snowfall.

Russ and I opened the Visitor Center. Old Glory raised on the flagpole, cash registers open for business, visitor statistics logged on the clipboards. Lights turned on inside. Sidewalk shoveled. Soothing instrumental music playing. 

Nobody came. Not right away. That's all right, we're out in the middle of nowhere and it takes some time to get here. Meanwhile our erstwhile maintenance crew was running the snowplow truck, clearing the road in from Highway 95. 

Eventually the first visitor came. Then a couple more. Such soft glowing snow light outside, coming in through our floor to ceiling windows. Wet snow sticking on every piece of vegetation outside. 

I walked down to the house to eat lunch. The clouds were starting to clear. I had to get out there, had to do a rove, even though there were only two of us manning the Visitor Center. After all, we weren't exactly being swamped by visitors. Though the few that came enjoyed it: welcoming, peaceful, no lines of tourists. 

[Canyonlands Natural History Association Book Store, Natural Bridges Visitor Center, snowy day].

 So out the loop drive, Bridge View Drive officially, I drove. Stopped to take photos in the bright light, the reflections on the wet slickrock sandstone, on the surfaces of the water pockets. 

On the trail down to Kachina Bridge I met up with two young ladies that I'd talked to in the Visitor Center. "Did you come to check on us?" Well, yes. Maybe. I knew you'd be fine, the road is fine and it's above freezing so there will be no ice on the trails. Until morning. I came to check on the Park. On this fantastic place, the only place in the world with three mighty stone bridges within a few miles of each other. With fresh snow on the mesa rim. That's what I came to check on. 

[Walkway to Sipapu Bridge viewpoint, some blue sky already].

Meanwhile, back at the Visitor Center Russ and I wrapped up the day. I tallied up the sales. The book store proceeds go into the Park programs, not into some corporation's balance sheet. I gently point that out to visitors whenever I can, because they like knowing that. Give back to the park while buying something you like. It's synergy.

But the day was not quite done. Still on the menu: sunset. 

I drove out to the big curve I've dubbed Sunset Curve. Why? Because it's a big curve in the road. Ok, ok, but because it has a nice turnout spot which faces west for the sunset. Awesome view, no power lines, no nothing except clean air, high desert mesa, buttes and sky. 

As sunset colors go, it was muted. Which only served to not distract me from the foreground, the fresh snow on the sandstone boulders, the high desert mesa. I loved the soft light, I walked around with my camera and tripod all around.

[Snowy sandstone boulders at sunset].

If it gets much better than this, I don't want to know about it. I'm not sure I could take it. Though I'd try.

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

Click on each image for a much larger version.


Prints and photo products are available on my Fine Art America sales website:
http://stephen-krieg.pixels.com/

© 2014 Stephen J. Krieg