The next day, John and I went to the biopark. I’ve posted many biopark pictures before, but never of this guy.
Can you see what that is? It’s the underside of a porcupine. It’s sleeping up high on an overhead pergola covered in vines. We’re standing under it, looking straight up.
We always have a good time at the biopark.
Next we went to Old Town. It’s not usually a good idea to go to Old Town on a summer Sunday unless you like throngs of tourists. But it’s strange, the tourists don’t seem to stray more than a hundred feet from the plaza, even though Old Town has tons of nooks and crannies to explore. Here’s one of several wonderful courtyards not more than a block and a half from the plaza. And no one was there.
I discovered a fabric artist in an empty shop in one of the overlooked courtyards. I have been collecting fabric (from old clothes) and have been thinking for awhile about what I want to do with it. I want to make pictures with the fabric, but I haven’t decided on my exact technique. I’m collecting ideas, so I bought this cute little clutch.
I think whatever I make will be less cute and more – hmm, well, we’ll see. I haven’t made anything yet.
Laura is getting a peacock tattoo, so I have been inspired to send her pictures of peacocks. I’ll write all about her tattoo when it’s finished. Here’s a metal peacock from Old Town:
Eventually we got the big thunderstorm and monsoon rains that had been threatening all week. John and I enjoyed watching the storm from our covered back porch. Except once the lightening struck so close that I screamed! You know how you’re supposed to count, one-hundred, two-hundred…to estimate how far away the lightenings? There was no counting. There was no time to even register what had just happened and consider counting. Just a simultaneous flash, hiss, sharp snap, and booming. (And screaming, lol, followed by swearing, followed by my husband quietly reminding me that the close-by neighbors have small children. Oops.)
After the monsoon rains, they opened the forests back up. It’s common in New Mexico for the forests to close during May and June until the monsoons start, as a wildfire precaution, because spring is dry and windy.
John and I were among the many people waiting for the announcement that the forests were open. On the morning of the opening, we eagerly headed up into the Sandias. But didn’t get very far. The road was still blocked off. What’s the deal? The news reports said the forests were open.
While we pondered what to do, suddenly it looked they were opening – yay!
But no, all they did was let the ranger through the barricade and close it again. We waited around speculating with fellow hopeful hikers. Word spread – yes, the forest was open, but the road wasn’t open due to downed branches. We were welcome to park and walk in. So we did.
The first trail was only a short walk up the road. We had never been on that trail before, because we always drive up higher. It was a nice trail, plenty green.
By the time we returned from our hike, they had removed the barrier. I suppose all the later visitors passing by wondered why there were so many cars parked at that spot, which wasn’t even at a trailhead.
We had a nice time in Albuquerque, and John got lots of work done. We had driven out separately, so I headed back to Tucson a couple of days before he did. I spent the drive thinking about our unwieldy 7 hour commute.
Before John even got back to Tucson that week, he found out he would need to go back the next week. We had hoped to spend the week of July 4 in Tucson, but he ended up flying back out again on July 5. He used to be able to spend weeks at a time working from home in Tucson. But no more. Even though the pandemic is not over, it’s no longer as deadly, and his online meetings are being replaced with in-person meetings.
We knew this day would come. Maybe it’s time we move back to Albuquerque?
I have a friend, Anjie, who lives in the east mountains, just east of Albuquerque. She commutes in to work at the University of New Mexico Medical Center, and I live on the far east edge of town, so her commute takes her close to my house. Whenever I visit Albuquerque, we try to schedule a walk in the hills near me after she gets off of work. We always have a nice time catching up.
The day after I walked with Anjie, I was out walking with John after work and the light was funny. Beautiful, but it didn’t seem quite right. Is that clouds and the reflections of the low afternoon sun, or is that smoke?
John found a news site – sure enough, Carnuel was burning. Carnuel is a small community between Albuquerque and the east mountains, along Interstate 40. The freeway was closed and so was Route 66.
The only way to go east out of Albuquerque is I-40 and the old route 66 that runs next to it like a frontage road. There’s really no other way east out of Albuquerque without going 60 miles north to Santa Fe or an equal distance south. It’s possible to go east from Placitas, but it’s a poorly maintained, very rough 4-wheel drive track through the mountains and not appropriate for regular passenger cars.
It was rush hour and I knew it was Anjie’s only way home. I texted her, “Are you stuck?” Sure enough, she was. Here’s the photos she took from her car, while stopped on the freeway.
She was stuck out there a long time. She never did get home that night.
Eventually the authorities got the stuck cars turned around and headed back into Albuquerque. I offered our house for the night, but she has relatives in town and stayed with them.
They got the fire out thankfully, and it didn’t burn the entire east mountains down, or the houses in the foothills. The previous month there had been a huge fire in northern New Mexico. We were lucky this time.
After the cement pour and some other remodel tasks in Tucson, such as meeting with a cabinet designer, I left to join John in Albuquerque. He’s been having to work in Albuquerque nearly every week lately. I didn’t like having to drive out and back by myself, but it was nice to be able to go out and return on my own schedule, rather than at the whim of his ever-changing work requirements. I enjoyed my visit, and sure wish I could just click my heels together and be out there and back again with no trouble!
The theme for my first couple of days in Albuquerque seemed to be “birds”.
On the first morning, I was busy in the kitchen when Biska alerted me to something odd happening on the back patio. Luckily her doggie door only leads to the side yard and not the back yard, or this poor bird would have been a goner.
It was just standing there, motionless, with its mouth open. I wasn’t sure what was wrong with it so I put out a little water. It was an exceptionally hot and dry day, before the monsoon rains had started.
It didn’t move at all when I set the water down. I went back into the house and got back to work on whatever I was doing. When I checked back later, it was gone. Hopefully it had just been in shock and flew away after recovering.
The next day I left Biska at home and went for a walk with my friend along the ditches in the Bosque.
It’s a very beautiful place, with a nice restaurant and a casual café. We got coffee and croissants at the café and ate on the patio under a pomegranate tree.
On our way to the bathrooms, we spotted this guy:
I told him he was beautiful, so he decided to show off some more:
John better watch out – this guy was pretty impressive, lol.
My friend has an exceedingly delightful, small, older home, full of southwest charm, within walking distance of Old Town.
Her beautiful tree is a mimosa tree. I love them and I want to get one for our house in Tucson. They are messy though – not only the flowers, but seedpods everywhere. It would go best in the front or side yards – not near the pool!
I suppose you aren’t staying up late nights worrying about how to pronounce Tempe. But just in case you were, let me help you out.
Before I moved to the southwest in 2001, I would have pronounced it TEM-peh. I would have been wrong.
After numerous years of getting used to the Spanish language influence in the southwest, I would have pronounced it TEM-pay. I would still have been wrong.
After being told that the ending makes a long ee sound, I would have pronounced it TEM-pee. But that’s still wrong! That may be how most people in the rest of country pronounce it, but if you subscribe to the belief that the locals determine how place names are pronounced, then the correct way to say Tempe is tem-PEE! The accent is on the PEE.
It’s awkward to say it that way, and it sort of makes you think they’re all searching for a bathroom. But that is how the locals say it. Tem-peeeeee!
For more fun Arizona pronunciation, here’s a good link: https://www.onlyinyourstate.com/arizona/az-mispronounce-words/
The room between our kitchen and our garage is going to be our new dining room.
It was originally an Arizona room before a previous owner converted it into a family room. An Arizona room is basically a covered and screened back patio, except they are often located between the house and the garage, with a window or open decorative cement blocks built into the wall along the street side, allowing for a cross breeze. According to Wikipedia, “…residents slept in their Arizona room during the summer months, before the advent of air conditioning…Arizona rooms are often decorated with Southwestern decor and furniture, and reflect the casual, informal style characteristic of the Southwest.“
I really can’t imagine trying to sleep in the middle of the summer in Arizona without air conditioning. And I love the heat! It would have been hard. Some nights it doesn’t get below 80º.
Even though we can now peacefully sleep in our air conditioned bedroom, I still really like the concept of an Arizona room. It’s nice to be outside, yet protected from the aggressive little tropical mosquitos that swarm during August and September. I’m looking forward to getting our back patio screened later this summer. But it won’t be a true Arizona room because it won’t have the cross breeze.
Our original Arizona room was converted to a family room by a previous owner many years ago. It has the most character of any of the rooms in the house, because when the previous owners made the conversion, the left the burnt adobe brick exposed. It’s going to make an excellent dining room.
But because it had once been an exterior space next to the garage, the floor had originally been built at the same height of the garage floor, which is 2.5″ lower than the rest of the house. When the previous owners enclosed the room, they added a thin cement overlay to the original brick floor, but they did not add the volume of cement it would have taken to level the floor with the rest of the house. Therefore, we have a 2.5″ ledge running across the middle of our kitchen-dining area.
Talk about a trip hazard!
I’m going to lose track of how many floors John and I have leveled. We’ve owned at least three prior houses that had sunken living rooms. The sunken living rooms were frequently built in the 1970’s – 90’s when the “open concept” was popular and the architects were trying to create a sense of room definition while using fewer walls. We dislike them, considering them dated and a trip hazard. At our first house in Albuquerque, guests would regularly fall off the edge of the landing near the front door, right into the sunken living room as we all stood around greeting each other or saying our good-byes. It was not a good design!
Since then, whenever we plan to upgrade the flooring, we level the floor first, before going to the effort and expense of installing new flooring. So our first step in this remodel is to level the floor!
A few days before the cement pour, our contractor came out to prep the space. This picture is confusing. A hole in the wall in the shape of a top hat? Are we getting creative, or what?
We’re going to install a new 8′ wide sliding glass door instead of the original 6′ wide door, but the new door hasn’t arrived yet, due to delivery delays. Cement is also really hard to get, so when our contractor got a call that there was going to be cement available on a certain day, he jumped right on it. We couldn’t lay cement up against a wall that’s going away, but we wanted to use the 6′ door until the 8′ door arrives.
Here’s the old 6′ wide door reinstalled after the cement pour. We jerry-rigged the old door back in place temporarily. We are (a month later) still waiting for the new, wider door. Once it comes in, our contractor will cut the rest of the drywall to the new, wider size. This isn’t pretty but it works for now.
Here the room is prepped before the cement arrived. There’s a form across the doorway to the garage, the baseboards are removed, and rebar is installed. Note the lovely lilac paint that was hiding under the baseboards, lol. Not a good match for the brick! What were they thinking? And we thought the previous owner’s blue walls were bad.
Our contractor installed wood forms, including a step out to the back patio. If you look very closely in the bottom left corner of the next picture, you can see some of the original patio brick. It’s under the wall that was installed when the room was enclosed and the first cement floor was added. That’s when they should have raised the floor height.
Cement is messy, so everything was taped off.
In the original layout, the door on the left would have been the back door out of the small, galley kitchen, and the door on the right would have been a sliding glass door off the dining room, both doors leading into what was the Arizona room.
This room started as an Arizona room, was converted to a family room, and now we’re going to make it into a dining room. We’re going to use the previous dining room as space to expand the kitchen, and for a breakfast nook. More on that later.
They’re planning to bring the cement in through the garage.
The cement crew is here, but no cement. The cement truck is late and we’re a bit worried. Our contractor steps outside to make some calls. We’re prepped and ready to go. Cement is so hard to get right now that it wouldn’t be a huge surprise if this delivery fell through. And it could be another month before another delivery is available.
Huge relief – the cement is here!
And we’re pumping! Yep, it’s splashing everywhere.
They work quickly to level it as it’s pumping in.
It’s loud and spasmodic.
Ugha-ugha-ugha-ugha-ugha
We couldn’t walk on it – or reinstall the doors – until it cured.
Our cement contractor told a story about a pour he did out in the rural area to the east of Tucson in a basement, and the doors were left off all night while the cement cured. In the morning there were clear paw prints of a mountain lion and her cubs, including an indent where they had laid down on the cool surface. The contractor offered to resurface it, but the homeowner loved the prints and left it that way.
We leaned our doors up for the night the best we could. With my luck I’d get something significantly less desirable than lion prints. I was just praying for no stuck cockroaches.
When the cement started to cure, these footprints slowly appeared out of nowhere. They were like ghost prints because there was no detectable indent or texture disturbance, just a color difference caused by the slower rate of curing, presumably due to greater density where the cement was compacted by the weight of the person.
As the cement continued to cure, the footprints faded.
They are only barely discernible now.
That crack’s not an issue, by the way. The new cement has multiple fine cracks, which is to be expected. They will covered by tile. The cracks are not structural and will not impact the tile.
We had put the furniture into the garage, and then John went to Albuquerque and I wasn’t able to get it back out of the garage by myself. So I dismantled my backyard hammock and set it up inside. The hammock I could move by myself!
With a hammock in there it’s looking more like an Arizona room and less like a dining room – almost as if we’re going the wrong direction! But projects often look worse before they look better.
Meanwhile it’s hilarious to watch John and I trip over nothing as we cross the room, automatically compensating out of habit for a step-up or step-down that is no longer there.
The next morning we went back to the trailhead with the goal of heading into the canyon that John had started to explore the afternoon before.
Wow, that’s quite a canyon.
I made it down the first ledge.
Ummm…so gorgeous, but…does it just drop off?
I inched down a bit further.
I still appear to be approaching a dropoff.
I looked back up the way I came. I can get back up that, right?
Ok, this is looking like about as far as I’m going to get.
I’ll just take a couple of scenic shots of the sides of the canyon before turning back.
I inched out a little farther. John’s like, look, see, it’s fine. No problem.
No problem for you maybe! I know this is the correct route down, but occasional cairn piles marking the route into a huge canyon doesn’t feel like a “trail” to me. Sorry, but I’m heading back up! Get me outta here.
It was very pretty, but I figured I had seen enough. I took a few more pictures on my way out. It was really stunning.
A final backward glance – geez, I went out there?
Almost to the top…
Ugh, I have to get back up that. Can you see Biska’s little face up there in the shadows, looking out over the canyon, waiting for me? I’m coming Biska!
John walked behind, helping me when I needed a boost or a steady hand. He and Biska were acting like they were taking a walk in the park.
Finally I was out of the canyon (whew).
Biska and I sat and rested at the top while John hiked along the cliff edge to see where the two canyons intersected. I had no interest in peering over the edge. It was peaceful on the mesa and I didn’t mind waiting.
Here’s John’s photos from the edge of the top of the canyon.
The next morning, we headed home. We often go to Utah around the time of John’s birthday, because it’s one of his favorite things to do.
There should always be cheesecake at the end of every trail. Happy Birthday, John!
After two nights at White Canyon we decided we had time for one more spot. John knew of another area he wanted to check out, near somewhere he had once backpacked many years ago.
On the map he spotted a road that lead to a trailhead. It looked like it might be a good spot to camp. We like to be near a trailhead for hiking. About half a mile or a mile away from the trailhead is perfect, because it’s close enough to walk to the trailhead, but not so close that we are contending with trailhead traffic while resting at our campsite.
It turned out the entire area was perfect for camping – trees for shade, flat enough to get off the road, but not so flat as to be utterly boring. We pulled off the road at a spot that had been used as a campsite in the past, about a mile before the trailhead. I was hoping for cell reception, but there didn’t seem to be much.
I liked the area because the piñon trees reminded me of New Mexico. (Piñons are short pine trees, alternatively spelled pinyon, and yes, the pine nuts are edible.)
As soon as we arrived, John and Biska ran down the road to the trailhead into the canyons to check it out while I got settled. On their walk, John found another campsite closer to the trailhead that he liked. It had great views.
But I liked our campsite better, nestled in some trees. I enjoy views, but I don’t like exposed campsites.
When John and Biska got to the trailhead parking area, nobody was there. Nobody was there the next day when I went down with him either. And nobody drove past our campsite on the road. A ranger drove down and back once. That was it. I shouldn’t even be telling you about it this unknown, amazing place. Shhh!
Here’s pictures from John and Biska’s short reconnaissance hike when we first got there.
Wow, so spectacular – and nobody here.
After John and Biska got back from checking out the canyon, we went on an evening stroll along the top of an easily accessible nearby ridge. I was hoping to pick up cell reception, but didn’t get much. Oh well, if anyone needs us they can wait another day or two.
I think those two bumps on the horizon are the “Bears Ears” of Bears Ears National Monument.
I just loved it out there – so peaceful and relaxing.
See our van down there? There’s our van!
Getting dark now, time to head back to our campsite. In the morning we’ll hike into the canyons.
Let me do a quick recap, since I posted the last couple of posts in the wrong order. I was able to reorder them on my blog, but I can’t do anything about the fact that the emails went out in the wrong order, for those of you who subscribe by email.
After a rough drive out to Utah, we spent our first night at a small creek near Grosvenor Arch, which turned out to be a muddy ditch overrun by cattle, so we only stayed one night. The next morning we drove around on the nearby ridges looking for a better site, but didn’t see anything particularly promising further up that road. So we went out to the highway and headed north until we found a different dirt road that looked better.
We were looking for the shelter of trees because a weather front was upon us and we didn’t want to be exposed in a windstorm. But in the desert, trees are more common in high elevations and we didn’t want to go up too high because it would be cold with the weather front approaching. Where to go?
We found the perfect spot under some big pine trees south of Canaan Peak, and spent two days relaxing and hiking. We had some wind above us in the trees, but it was surprisingly calm down at ground level. We couldn’t even tell that the winds were screaming out on the desert plains just a few miles away.
We left the pines on the last windy day. We drove through Escalante, Torrey, and Hanksville, which was a beautiful drive, and then we dropped south on Hwy 95 to White Canyon.
When we arrived at White Canyon it was still windy with dirt in the air, but it was stunningly beautiful.
The next morning we had calm weather and blue skies. Perfect timing!
We spent the day hiking around, exploring. Our morning hike was my choice – up a shallow canyon above White Canyon.
Look at those funny little balls of rock. Often when we’re hiking I wish I was a geologist and a biologist so I would know what I was looking at. I am an environmental scientist, but I mostly know about mitigating human impact on the environment, such as the regulation of air quality and water quality impacts. I don’t tend to know details about the specific rocks and bushes (unless they’re endangered).
This rock was crazy. It’s hard to see in the picture, but it’s about a foot or two tall, and only about an inch thick. It’s nuts how the sandstone will erode.
Here’s another example, again it’s hard to tell in the photo what you’re looking at, but that rock is less than a centimeter thick in places; a shell of sandstone that has been eroded from below.
John took a close-up of this little cave, because he loves caves
He leaned in closer and closer until he ended up with this photo:
And I was like, aak, yuck, no, it looks like my colon!
Better stick with the amazing vistas.
I quit at the bottom of this ledge, but John and Biska went just a little bit farther.
She’s turning out to be a fine rock-scrambling desert dog!
Time to head back toward camp.
Luckily Biska didn’t see this guy.
After we got back to the campsite, John’s next goal was to hike down into the main canyon. We had already hiked up-canyon that morning and I didn’t want to go down to the big canyon, so I decided to stay behind at the campsite.
Here I am, collecting heart-shaped rocks near our campsite. Biska’s like, “Mom? There’s nothing interesting in that pile of rocks. The exciting lizards are hiding in the bushes! You’re looking in the wrong place!”
Finding heart-shaped rocks in the desert is equivalent to my superpower of finding 4-leaf clovers. John tried to help, lol. He’s better than me at most things in life, but this is my superpower and he can’t compete.
Although I admit, some of those aren’t perfect hearts, lol. But no heart is perfect.
The weather started to look a little threatening for John’s hike down into the main canyon – possible afternoon thundershowers.
It can be very dangerous in canyons during and after rain events due to flash flooding. But in this case, we knew where it might rain, we understood the layout of the canyons in that area, and we knew the potential direction of water flow. So we were confident that current conditions were safe for his hike. Less predictable is lightning, but we didn’t hear any, even in the distance. The canyon was very close to camp, so we figured he would have enough time to get back to camp if needed.
Here’s pictures from his hike:
They had a fun hike, did not get rained on, and came back with beautiful pictures.
After camping at a couple of new spots southwest of Escalante (and southeast of Bryce), we decided to head out to a tried-and-true spot. John wanted to camp in the sandstone formations, and we knew just the place. Several times in the past we’ve camped at a little-known canyon called White Canyon, off Hwy 95, near the Hite crossing of the Colorado River, north of Lake Powel, between Canyonlands and Glen Canyon.
We had an extremely scenic drive to get there; Escalante to Boulder to Torrey to Hanksville and then south on 95. If you ever want to do a driving tour of the lesser-known sections of southern Utah, be sure to drive at least the section from Escalante to Torrey.
It was still very windy, so I was dubious about leaving the protective forest campsite we had found, but the forecast called for the winds stopping that night. John said it would be perfect – we would do our driving during the worst of the wind, get ourselves situated, and then we would wake up to great weather in the morning.
When we first arrived that afternoon, the air was full of dirt from the windstorm.
It was still very beautiful though.
Here’s my picture out the van door. I collect these “van view” shots.
Sunset that night was gorgeous.
Wow, the lighting was amazing.
And the next morning, perfect weather, no wind, and a strong blue sky.
I accidentally posted about White Canyon before this post, so in case you’re confused, this is the second place we went to in Utah. This is where we waited out the windstorm, before we went on to White Canyon.
After a disappointing first night along a cattle-infested muddy wash near Grosvenor Arch, we were on the search for a new campsite. The dirt road that extended past the arch was surprisingly full of campers, so we wanted to find a less popular spot.
We also wanted somewhere fairly warm and sheltered. We knew a front was coming through, and it had already gotten windy. I didn’t want to be out in the middle of the desert during a sandstorm. So we headed toward the trees.
John knows the remote regions of Utah very well, which is really helpful when doing this kind of trip. We hadn’t been to this particular spot before, but his general knowledge helped us make educated guesses about where to go.
This spot turned out to be perfect. The huge pines filtered the rising winds, keeping it surprisingly calm. And it wasn’t so high up in elevation as to be too cold. It was a pleasant spot and completely empty.
At first we put Biska out on her line, but after awhile we realized we didn’t need to keep her tied up. The road didn’t go anywhere and nobody drove by the entire time we were out there. Biska won’t just run off – the only reason we sometimes need to keep her tied or leashed is if there are other people around. She’s extremely friendly and will burst into people’s campsites and jump all over them if we let her.
We set up a cell tower booster. There’s generally very little cell reception in the remote sections of southern Utah. We feel very lucky when we get any reception at all.
We don’t need to surf the internet or watch TV or anything, but we feel much better if we can get a text message in and out in case we run into issues such as a health emergency. We also don’t like to be completely unavailable if something comes up at one of our rentals. We have a handyman, so almost everything can be handled long distance – if we have enough cell reception to get a text out to authorize and arrange anything that’s needed.
I love the pines and there were plenty of places to walk.
And wildflowers!
I would have been content to spend the entire vacation there. But John still wanted the classic red-rock Utah experience. So on the third day, when the storm was almost over, we headed back out toward the desert.
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