We're in Moab, Utah, just this week, dividing our time between Arches National Park and Canyonlands. Today we visited the Wolfe Ranch, a one-room log cabin built by a veteran of the Civil War. Just up the hill from this historic place was a wall of petroglyphs that scientists estimate were created sometime between 1650 and 1850. Notice in the picture how the Paiutes are mounted on horses, with bighorn sheep and a dog. The drawing is lifelike, brightly painted, and very clear. Central Plains Indians rode horseback starting with the explorations of the Spanish in the 16th Century.


What fascinated me about this set of petroglyphs is in comparing them to petroglyphs we had seen at Capitol Reef National Park. This next picture shows petroglyphs painted some time between 700 and 1300 by the Fremont people. Some consider the Fremont People to be ancestors of the Anasazi or Puebloan peoples further south. Notice how much more abstract the drawings are -- although people and animals are clearly shown. Signs say we don't know much about the meanings of these petroglyphs, although additional information on these older petroglyphs is at http://www.nps.gov/archive/care/petpull.htm as well as another article on decoding petroglyphs at http://johnpratt.com/items/docs/lds/meridian/2006/petroglyphs.html by the controversial Martineau who was raised by Paiutes after being orphaned.

The country here is so beautiful, inspiring arches, magnificent mountains, sweeping vistas, and yet the land is also harsh, arid, dry desert, and difficult to live in. These drawings in stone, along with cliff dwellings help us understand the past, even if we cannot fully reconstruct it. Just one more picture (with more to come in WebShots) to show the amazing geography here. Today we climbed a "moderately strenuous" trail to Delicate Arch, over steep slick rock with ravens swooping down. A person stands underneath the arch in this picture; check the scale. It's monumental. Whew! Make it a good week. Beth

Tuesday morning and I'm looking out the window at a desert scene, gnarled juniper, pitted lava rocks, sage brush and yellow-flowering Rabbitbrush slowly warming as morning gray is replaced by sun. I realize that I don't have to rush off to a meeting or a class and that any schedule I make is pretty much my own. At first this feeling is relaxing, exhilerating, and like a dog shaking off obligations like water, I feel free. Of course, living between our tent and hotel rooms offers a certain anonymity. Sue Monk Kidd, author of THE SECRET OF BEES, talks in an afterword about the importance of place as healing, yet what about the absence of place. Do those "things" we've collected over our lives give us our identity, a sense of connectedness, routine as peace?

The place we've lived in this last week has been eye-opening. We spent a week tenting in Zion, hiking everywhere, sometimes on truly challenging hikes, where we clung to climber's chains and looked straight down. The picture below shows our view of Zion on our last day. Park officials have shifted over to a shuttle service to handle the some 5,000 visitors a day -- the result is quiet in the canyon, although we pass each other on the trails, always polite. From our campsite, we could see a massive red mountain. Later in the week we hiked to an outcropping there to discover it had been used for grain storage by ancient peoples. High above the valley, the site was defensible, yet surrounded by unforgettable views.


We then drove over to Capitol Reef National Park, a geologist's dream. Apparently many millions of years ago (65 million), the tectonic plates of east and west met here. The resulting "crash" led to an uplift in the earth of between 4,000 to 11,000 feet and created a kind of fold in the earth's crust that is visible for about 100 miles. The rock formations here are formidable, massive, heart-stopping. We wandered through the Narrows at Grand Wash Trail to find canyons closing and then another corner, another canyon, yet narrower, massive cliffs on each side. Weather warnings told us to watch for flash floods; the evidence was everywhere -- wash outs, giant boulders dumped haphazardly, undercuts on the sides of the canyon -- and yet we saw junipers with berries, their bark so worn and twisted we wondered how they could survive. I don't see how any picture could do justice to this. The early Mormons farmed here isolated and safe; locals are a little displeased as they were displaced when Capitol Reef became a national monument. Tourism doesn't quite make up for the loss of land.



Yesterday, coming out of the canyon, we heard soft bird calls and discovered a covey of six chukkers hunting for food through the grasses, calling to each other. I stood quietly and photographed them, mystery birds until we got back to Sibley's Bird reference. Ah, birds. So these are the small pleasures of daily life, unexpectedly good coffee, a good view out my window (wherever that may be), and the chance to write. May your week go well. Beth

We’ve just spent our third day at Bryce Canyon National Park, and today a light dusting of snow capped our last hike along Inspiration Point. As we drove to our motel, we spotted four pronghorn antelopes bedded down in the grasses for warmth. Yesterday, we hiked the famed Navajo Loop trail, through the Queen’s Garden and up to Sunrise Point, a total of 3.5 miles and a descent of 580 feet down switchbacks into a tight box canyon, with the ascent at the end of the trail an equally challenging 580 feet back up at roughly 10,000 feet elevation. But along the way, what vistas! Those hoodoos, shaped over 10 million years of erosion, really pillars of rock colored by mineral content to gold, white or iron rich red, dazzle the eyes. Everywhere we look, these fantastic shapes invite photographs. Check Webshots (see link at the right) to see a few.

According to the Park Service, people have lived in this valley about 12,000 years. The Paiutes say the hoodoos are ancient peoples (perhaps Pueblo or Fremont) turned to stone by Coyote. Sometimes I can see faces in the stones, but mostly I am in awe at the grand architecture of this place that no photo can capture. The play of light, the range of color, and the sweep of intricate formations constantly change. Snow and rain freeze and then thaw, with runoff leading to new fantastic shapes, while tall pine trees compete for space, growing somehow in marginal spaces.

We are adjusting very well to being on the road, although gusts of wind up to 60 pushed us into a lovely motel, Bybee’s Steppingstone in the nearby town of Tropic, complete with quilts, satellite TV, and some access to internet. Allen has been enjoying baseball playoffs as well as college football. We have now invested in sturdy tent stakes and are hoping the lower elevation and calmer weather at Zion will lead us back to camping. We're seeing more RVs and mini-vans everywhere; what a different way of life. I miss family and friends, maybe work, certainly my books and computer, but each day is such an adventure. Experiencing these parks is humbling in a way with such a profusion of natural beauty. We have had so many days in which I thought this surely will be the ultimate highlight of our trip. And then another day comes along with experiences so amazing, that they eclipse what has gone before. May your days be as bright. Beth

This last week has been spent in Spokane, visiting with Rachel and Nick for Rachel's birthday (see Mario the cat at the birthday party), and repacking for our now 8-month trip through the rest of the United States, starting with Nevada and the Great Basin National Park. Tonight our tent is pitched on a grassy lot with trees nearby. We can see a desert landscape and the beginnings of the Rockies with a dusting of snow. We fixed the tent in Spokane with a wonderful welder who spent about an hour firing up much complicated equipment (and he recorded the tent pole

The land around Ely is a sweeping barren vista of sagebrush, occasional cows, and mountains. In town, buildings from the 1930s and 1940s are overlaid with Las-Vegas-like casino lights. Cowboys, hunters, and lots of trucks complete the scene. And I almost forgot to mention that everywhere we see RV's, mobile homes (big ones!), and snowbirds heading south. We were told to look for circles of light in the desert as the RV's gather round camp fires, but this may be an urban legend. That's it for tonight. The stars are coming out, and all is well. May it be so for you and yours. Beth

Monday night, Baker City, Oregon. Yesterday we explored Craters of the Moon, a 75-mile national monument park in Idaho where astronauts once trained because of its moon-like barren environment. At Craters of the Moon, a series of volcanos erupted about 15,000 years ago and have continued to erupt about every 2,000 years. The last eruption was 2,000 years ago, so geologists predict the next eruption could be any time, that is geologic time, any time within 100 or 1,000 years. Not exactly next week.

After Waterton, Glacier, and Yellowstone, I was not prepared to be wowed. But, wow! We learned about the two types of lava, named after Hawaiian lava, aa (rough rocks) and Pahoehoe (smooth stuff). The pahoehoe forms in long ropy lava tubes, some small and some large enough to form caves. We climbed down into Indian Cave, a very large lava tube that extends about 800 hundred feet long and in places 30 feet high and 50 feet wide. The Shoshone used this particular cave to shelter from the severe snowy winters in their travel across the lava expanse; some of the stones inside the cave may have ceremonial significance, though no additional information is available. The trail was not marked through this cave, and we had to scramble over lava rocks about 20 feet high. Two ravens flew through the cave, and parts were dark, but rest assured, we could see the light at the end of the tunnel. We emerged from the other end to find again no trail back. We hiked now along the top of this gigantic lava tube, using markers for bearings. This was almost too much adventure! We also stood inside a spatter cone, hiked up a cinder cone, and walked around several trails, admiring the tenacity of life, as trees and shrubs somehow find a niche and survive the extremes of temperature and soil.

Today has been the first day of school at Linn-Benton, and I find myself thinking of colleagues and students starting classes for the first time. Instead of teaching, today we spent at the Oregon Trail Discovery Center in Baker City. I have renewed appreciation for those pioneers who headed west in covered wagons. We hiked around the hill outside the Center and stood in the old trail ruts for a moment. All the pictures showed great privation as people mostly walked the 2,000 miles along the Oregon trail. At least I’m back in Oregon, but headed tomorrow for Hell’s Canyon, then north to Spokane. Each day is sunny. May it be so for you! Beth

Friday morning, West Yellowstone. These past two days we've hiked Mammoth Hot Springs and the Norris Geyser Basin. It's hard not to realize the interconnectedness of all things in nature, even to the micro level, as the temperature of some of these hot springs affect what can live in any pool as does the mineral content, so colors range from rich orange to purest blue. For example, yellow has more sulphur (smelly eggs) between 140-181 degrees F, while emerald green is mostly algae at below 133 degrees F.

The entire ecosystem is a scientist's dream! Signs everywhere warn people to stay on the trail, for the crust of the earth is very fragile. Every year some people are scalded and some die because they fall through the crust; sometimes the boardwalks themselves must be changed because vents, pools, and mudpots shift. We can see sturdy pine trees growing right to the edge of the basin, and as we walk through, hear the puffs, huffs, and gurgles of different kinds of water and steam pushing up from underneath the ground.

Our absolute favorite at Mammoth Hot Springs was the Orange Mound with its mysterious white, orange and green coloring. Who could forget at Norris Basin the Emerald Pool, the Blue Mud Steam Vent, the Pearl Geyser, or the Steamboat Geyser (it's last eruption of some 300 feet was in 2005, with an unpredictable cycle sometime in the next 40 years or so).

Yes, we continue to see lots of animals everywhere. Yesterday a bison was trying to cross the road, but a river of slow-moving cars prevented him, so he headed down one lane, backing up traffic, while we moved in the opposite direction. I'll try to post more pictures in WEBSHOTS (see link to right), but our connection with internet is tenuous, and starting tomorrow, we'll be on the road again, headed for the Tetons. Ah for the days of comcast! The writing is going reasonably well, but the hills around us as we enter Yellowstone are starting to be dotted with the deep red and brilliant yellow of true fall. That must mean school is soon starting. Make it a good week! Beth

Thursday, September 18, 2007. Last night the weather turned cold, 32 degrees, but Yellowstone is simply overwhelming in its beauty. Formed by a series of three immense volcanic eruptions millions of years ago, the entire park (approximately 35 by 45 miles) is really the caldera of the last ancient volcano. As we travel throughout the park, we see sweeping forest and mountain views, bison, a herd of elk, lots of tourists, and, thankfully, no bears, except Brownie, our gift bear for joining the Yellowstone Association, which preserves the park.

Yellowstone is recovering from the disastrous fire of 1988. We can see evidence of the damage everywhere. Blackened Lodgepole pines spot the forest floor here and there, but the forest floor is crowded with new growth. Apparently, the pinecones of the Lodgepole pine are sealed shut until a fire opens the cone and 50,000 seeds spring out from just one cone. This rich new growth covers the hills, with trees already 6-10 feet high.

Our goal this first day is to hike through the Grand Canyon of Yellowstone and view its Upper and Lower Falls. This is no small feat at an elevation of about 9,000 feet (breathe deeply!), and drops to the canyon floor of about 300 feet. The views are spectacular, the rock colors white, red, black, orange and brown, all depending on the level of iron and minerals, and all hewn into fantastic shapes by erosion. By the end of the day, our feet are tired, but we are ready to return tomorrow for more exploration. I can't believe these pictures as everywhere I look, I see a postcard view! Beth