We’ve decided to just hang out, taking it easy today. We can get things in order, have a nice meal. It has been a lot of travel for several days. We’ve found a good place to just enjoy for a time. When it seems right, we have walks to look forward to, long and short.
We’ve just left Kodachrome State Park in southern Utah. We wander down a two lane highway through little Mormon towns and settlements. This is beautiful country where green pastures and creeks pass through colorful hills, buttes and mountains.
Each farm has an old homestead house. These are the remnants of standardized homes provided for pioneers by the church community, when they would settle an area. These early shelters are still there for memory and identity.
This valley has the meandering Pariah River running through it. It is currently only a small creek maybe six or eight feet across. We’re heading to the mountains instead of more slot canyons. It is too hot for DF and maybe me, the diehard. A temperature of 83F was nice, but well into the 90F’s with little or no shade is uncomfortable. Perhaps another time, we did get a late start this year. There is another concern, fire. We smell the smoke which is emanating from the west in a towering cloud. There is a fire out west and we’ll head north-ish for cleaner air.
Off of a bend in the main highway that connects the local towns, we find the dirt road that leads up a canyon to higher elevations. Supposedly there are pine trees and cooler temperatures. I’m tired. There is a creek running along this route, which is encouraging. I find a small rough road, a two track jeep trail that is running through tall brush and trees to something, perhaps campsites.
Eventually, it leads to the base of a “North Creek Reservoir’s” dam.
Driving along the bottom of the dam it stops at a fine camping area. We are delighted by the good fortune. We park under the tree’s shade. Through a thicket, there is a creek. The only sound that we hear is its calming trickling waters.
After a sigh and a deep relaxing breath, we get out and walk around. Down a trail at the end of this kind of a road, there is running water out of a concrete shoot from the reservoir. The creek is the excess water from the small lake.
There is a second small dam here and this presents us with a small swimming hole. This coupled with the shallow mountain creek, may cause us to stay a couple of days. We take note of the colorful river rocks under the clear mountain water.
The trail coming in was rough, winding and tight. It would discourage most drivers. We would hear a slow lumbering visitor with plenty of notice. This spot is looking very good.
Continue readingBears Ears, Utah #42
We walk off and away from camp, down the raspy forest service road, attempting to stay off on the side to avoid the dust puffs. They are little clouds at each step of our feet. Just a few strides and our shoe’s colors blend into the surroundings. DF hangs back as my puffs head her way, traveling in front of her. It’s not sandy here. This is dried soil churned by vehicles. It turns to thick gooey mud when it rains and it then washes away, exposing the local rocks more and more. This is good for us. It makes a terrible trail, fit only for thick tires, 4×4 and destructive ATV’s. The latter churns up the soil deeper, making more dust, but this creates the solitude. Few people come this way and they move slowly, with caution.
We headed up to Redington Pass the other day. It is an easy access and with the climbing, it is such a more well-rounded exercise, more than just walking a path. It is also, traditionally, a nude area and trail with nude use signs posted. So, on this day, we needed a nice quick hike; one which we could be freely nude without being bothered to cover up for weekend and holiday crowds. We park and then have to legally cover our bodies long enough to walk from the parking lot to the other side of the road and then sufficiently away from the road. There, from the “nudity ahead” sign, it is liberation. The minimal coverings are tucked away into a backpack, or under a shoulder strap. There is no need of them, no matter who we encounter.
This day, we decide take the high route, so as to descend further upstream.
To see the rest of this post, you’ll have to find the “2” and click the page turning button, below.
We are hiking in the Tortolita Mountains. The first part of the story it here:
…We explore several minor wash canyons that cross the trail.
We’re taking a back road off of a dirt road that travels along the Pima County line’s north side. It should lead us to a mountain bike trail that heads into the Tortolita Mountain County Park.
It is familiar, it used to be in what I considered my back yard, a big backyard. I have taken this trail from the south many times, it is easy to find, a shot just past the windmill landmark.
See “Naked to the County Line”:
This time we’re coming in from the north, through a foothills of misleading dry flood washes. It is not clearly marked. The last time, I misread the landmarks and ended up in an entirely different area.
During that hike, we looked and looked for possibilities for the trailhead, or the correct wash as seen from a satellite photo. We thought that we found it as the sun set. Now, I hope to find it again.
To continue, you’ll probably have to go down to the button labeled page #2, until I can get “Classic Editor to work again.
We’re up here in Manti-La Sal National Forest, in the Bears ears National Monument. The morning has been casual, late rising, reading. We have a breakfast, then it is time for lunch.
A boy, a young buck scampers around, only about 50 feet away from camp. He decides to have a green snack and stops. This isn’t the female who directed us to this spot in the woods last evening. This guy is decorated with emerging antlers. We stand and watch, then, moving quietly, easily; we grab cameras. This gentleman is fearless.
We snap a few as we creep forward. He backs away eventually several feet to match our move. We know his boundaries.
Relaxed, after a restful afternoon, we decide to walk.
It’s time to gather provisions and gas. We’ll be heading up the road that cuts right in-between the Bear’s Ears, on top of its head and then onto its back. We’ll be lounging and exploring in the Manti-La Sal National Forest for a week or so.
In Blanding, Utah, I spend too much time for my liking. I’m stuck shoring up home insurance issues over the phone and checking internet texts and messages, after several days of no service. It has been a pleasure to be out of electronic contact, but this is the price. That process of waiting takes us to the visitor center, where I am able to spend some good time with a new hostess. She once lived up in those hills with her mother. I shamelessly grill her for insider’s information.
Just before we leave to backtrack to where we were this morning, which is 45 miles of carnuding. I pull off of the road at that sign that says ominously “Next services 121 Miles.” We strip, stuff away our clothing and resume down the now familiar road, to out west. For now, the wind blows through partly opened windows and the vent, circling, sensuously dancing all over naked bodies.
We find the road that will take us into the mountains. It is soon dirt. After a pickup truck passes, I get out to switching into 4×4 for stability. We are alone here at the base of this mountain. I turn off the motor. Now in silence, I look up into the steep walls before me. They circle around us. The vast Canyonlands are behind us now. This is the beginning of an entirely new terrain and set of unknowns to set off into, naked. There is a sense of adventure, a new beginning and freedom.
We had been up with the sun, yet here we are still getting a later start. This time however, the timing is best later in the morning. We’re heading for The House on Fire ruins. It faces away from the morning sun, now. We’d like to arrive when the refection of the sunlight on red rock makes the roof of the ruins look like fire.
It is a short hike, just maybe 30 minutes, a quick mile or so and there is no slope each way.
We grab a fee to pay for this more popular site, but when we arrive, there is no bucket at the trailhead. There is just one car. The trail registry says two people. This is good, very good, good potential. We may have things to ourselves, instead of the shuffle of too many tourists. There had been a half a dozen cars when we passed by during the previous afternoon.
We carefully make our way down a slope and into dense foliage accented with various red soils, sand and rock. As we walk along, the evident path is comfortably shaded, off and on. We haven’t gone far, just minutes, when we bump into an older couple. They are from Germany in full hiking regalia. He reports “very nice” in a very thick accent. She is silent. By her demeanor, I suspect that she is not confident in our foreign language. Helpful and beaming, nearly giddy, as if he had just visited something of memorable awe, he states, “20 minutes, follow the wash.” They disappear down the trail toward the trailhead. One car, two people heading back to it, so I know that nobody is ahead. My kilt is quickly off and it feels so wonderful. The air is beautiful and I’m feeling lucky. I didn’t expect this.
Curiously, when we arrive at the ruins, there is no clear trail for such a popular remarkable spot. We must climb through a tangle of bush and roots on a sharp slope and then up a bare rock slope. There they are, still in the shade, several stone masonry structures, connecting the lips of a rock floor and ceiling. We drop daypack and water bottles. We plan to hang out for a while, waiting for photo opportunity.
The ceiling is everything that the pictures have purported. There is a chipped strata of red and yellow tones that rise up, suggesting fire. It is massive and beautiful. DF playfully sings a phrase from a song. It sticks in my head, inspired by this sense of flame, “We don’t need no water let the MF burn, burn MF, burn.” The crude tune from the 1990’s has lost its anger. It is joyous excitement.
I’m continuing our series into Bears Ears National Monument in southeastern Utah. We’re looking for places to bivouac, set up camps near destinations and then get earlier starts on hikes.
We couldn’t leave our last camp soon enough because of gnats and the afternoon heat. The harsh part of Summer isn’t far off. The plan is to situate in higher elevations and the better weather, climbing to suit our lack of suits. We’ll need a place to stay to get an early start near a trailhead, which leads to a ruin that we intend to explore.
A camping spot is found near a very fun old wooden bridge.
The solid old conveyance is filled with character, there are trees for shade and a dry creeks ambiance, maybe cool air will flow down the wash as evening passes.
The spot should suit our needs, but now we need another spot in proximity to Bridges National Park, our hike for the morning. Fish and Owl sounds like a good spot. There is a Ranger Station nearby. Our information is sparse at this point and they will help.
The Free Range Naturist 