Nine Mile
July 30, 2016

Odd name for a place, but Nine Mile Canyon intrigued us by its reputation as a top location for extensive Fremont and Ute rock art sites.

Our destination was not especially nearby and the journey was made longer by a 20-mile detour caused by a wrong turn, but eventually, we closed in.  Our approach was further slowed when we came to the Gate Canyon narrows, which we had to navigate via a road that wound precariously close under leaning crumbling cliffs.

It was pretty nervous-making being under those high, high walls with rocks from fist- to vehicle-size that had become dislodged and fallen beside and onto the road.  Exiting the narrows, we entered Nine Mile, which was slightly wider but no less crumbly.

Eagles . . .

Barely into Nine Mile, we excitedly called a screeching halt as a golden eagle lifted off from an agricultural field right in front of us.  We were anxious to get our binoculars on the bird as it soared in front of a mammoth cliff.

When we saw it land on a ledge far overhead, we were astounded to see a second eagle take flight near the first's perch.  We couldn't tear ourselves away from watching as the pair soared one way and another, dancing together in the air, following a heat thermal as it carried them circling up over the cliff top.  Finally, they ceased their play and together flew a straight line away and out of our sight.

As we turned to leave, suddenly we realized there was another eagle flying out of the canyon behind where the pair had played . . . and then even another!  We surmised the second pair were the juveniles that were waiting for the 'rents to bring home the chow.

What an amazing experience!  We took full advantage, watching the show right up to curtain call.

The gorge . . .

Nine Mile Canyon has occasional irrigated fields and historic ranch activity in the places where the canyon bottom opens up, but the main gorge and its tributaries are primarily rock- and sand-bottomed; even hiking is difficult because of the rubble-strewn way.

Precarious pinnacles perch perilously atop narrow fins of rock that reach out from ridges that loom and lean overhead with such intensity and beauty that it makes the experience absolutely awe-inspiring.  I found it impossible to stop snapping photographs, none of which convey anything of the immensity and grandeur.

The useful life of this fence expired quite some time ago.

When we encountered this huge boulder that was supported only by loose gravelly material, we were finally intimidated enough to turn back from hiking further up that canyon.  It can't be long before it follows the others in crashing to the canyon floor.

Petroglyphs, pictographs, graffiti . . .

People of the Fremont culture left their mark throughout the region, followed by interesting Ute art on the rock faces; more modern man has contributed his part, also.

Fertility symbol?  This figure certainly appears to indicate pregnancy.  I love the hooves on the bighorn.

I thought at first this was a thunderbird.  Second look makes me wonder if it's a man being attacked by a large bird.  Chris suggested a man wearing a headdress.

I have no idea about the sprays coming out from a center point, but love the men wearing headdresses and riding horseback.

Although not clear in the photo, this panel shows a group of horsemen hunting elk.

Buffalo figure prominently throughout the canyon.  This one appears to be very well fed.

I was fascinated by this buffalo.  Are those spears sticking out of its back?

Very intriguing!  Moon phases?  Eclipses?

Chris said this short-legged buffalo liked having its neck scratched.

This one runs the gamut: pregnant buffalo, stylized sun, bighorn sheep, someone who came through shortly after the end of the Civil War, an ocher Fremont figure, and I would swear that is a man on horseback leading two pack mules.

Horrifying!  Easily the most beautiful pictograph we saw there, sadly destroyed by the property owner.  No, we were not trespassing; we remained behind the fence.  Even worse, they misspelled "trespassing".

This well-known site, the Great Hunt Panel in Cottonwood Canyon, is amazing!  Although signage, maps and directions in those canyons are poor to misleading to non-existent, the hunt panel is well-marked and interpreted.  The surmise is that this panel illustrates an actual event that may have taken place more than 1,000 years ago: a fall hunt when the rams, ewes and fawns gather, the only time the entire herd is in one place, with the rams at the top and ewes with fawns below, and the hunters with bows & arrows.  I'm fairly uncertain about the little round figure in the center, though.

Near the junction of Gate and Nine Mile canyons, we saw lots of 19th & 20th century scribblings.  Some of it was by early ranchers; however, much of it was likely done by buffalo soldiers of the 9th Cavalry Regiment.  They are the ones who built the road through Nine Mile to link Fort Duchesne to Price.

Nine Mile Canyon was an important transportation route in eastern Utah until the railroad was completed in 1905.  The road opened the canyon up to settlement.

After the 1889 discovery of Gilsonite, traffic in the canyon increased.  Industrial use in the region has caused dust to become damaging to the rock art, a problem that continues to current day.  Attempts to forestall destruction of those ancient art forms may also be hurting them as dust abatement materials are sprayed onto the dirt roads.

This chameleon put me in mind of the numerous lizard petroglyphs we saw along Cub Creek.

Vernal . . .

We are in our second week staying in Vernal and enjoying it very much.  The people of this region seem to be the most friendly, kindest, most neighborly folks that I have encountered.  That includes 100% of the people we’ve dealt with - whether on a business basis or casual conversation.

There appears to be endless opportunity for recreation: sightseeing, fishing, boating, hunting, hiking and swimming, to name a few.

The town is small, but offers ample shopping except possibly for major appliance and vehicle purchases.

There are, however, some flies in the ointment.  One I mentioned previously; that is the dependency on oil.  Unlike at least one oil town I know, Mid-bust-land, there are other attributes besides crude; however, locals have told me that the economy is strongly dependent on oil.

The second drawback is winter weather, and I mean serious long winter weather.  The extreme cold without much surcease is at least partially caused by Vernal’s location in a large basin that allows all the surrounding cold air to drain and settle there.

We had intended to be here for one week, but opted to stretch that stay out.  We moved from the Fossil Valley RV Park to the KOA a bit farther from town center.  Both are nice, although very different.  Fossil Valley has very small shaded spaces with lanes lined by tall trees.  The KOA is a mixed bag; we gave up shade for a larger space and less town noise, although we can hear the highway traffic pretty well.

Museums . . .

Vernal has both a heritage museum and a natural history museum.  Via a coin flip and time constraints, we have made it only to the heritage facility.  Like many small-town museums, it primarily consists of donated collections.  Unlike many, though, it is well sorted and organized, although I was disappointed at the lack of provenance of much of the Indian artifact section.

"They never left the gates open" . . .

My latest fascination, Josie Bassett Morris, was well represented in the exhibits.  How priceless is her quote about the outlaws the family knew in the area where she grew up - Brown's Park!

"I knew some people that were outlaws of course.  But at the time I knew 'em lots of 'em I didn't know were outlaws.  Never thought of it . . . they never left gates open, they never stole your saddle horse, they never robbed your cabin, they never done things of that kind, no sir!  No sir, they never!"

That definitely sets some realistic priorities . . . I couldn't resist purchasing a book about her.

In addition to building her own cabin, ponds, fences & outbuildings, living without power or plumbing, producing all her own food and supplying others and just generally being self-sufficient, Josie managed to make quilts, too.  This crazy quilt is hers; I wish it was unfolded so we could see the whole thing.

First ladies . . .

This is not usually my "thing"; however, something caught our interest in this doll collection.  The set consists of all the presidential first ladies through Nancy Reagan.

Because of Chris' kinship to President Martin Van Buren, we are aware of his daughter-in-law, Angelica Van Buren, who served as first lady during his term in office.  Mom W. has a photograph of Angelica hanging in her hallway, thus we know what she looks like and that was what caught our eye - the doll is the spittin' image of that picture!  At 20, Angelica was the youngest woman ever to fill that position, having married the president's son Abraham while Martin was in office.

That got us to looking at the others, and sure enough, the sculptor, Phyllis Juhlin Park, has done a masterful job with those dolls; they look like who they depict.  What an endeavor that must have been!  I can't imagine how long it took her to complete the job.

Angelica Van Buren, president Martin Van Buren's daughter-in-law, who served as his first lady despite being only 20 years of age.

Gilsonite, again . . .

Good heavens, more Gilsonite, this time in a big ol' chunk.  And to think I've lived 70 years without ever hearing about this stuff and now it's everywhere I turn.

This historic photo illustrates the unusual manner that Gilsonite is mined: trenches, sometimes many miles long, that follow the mineral's narrow veins.

Musica! . . .

The heritage museum had two derelict pianos awaiting much-needed attention and one antique organ.  Obviously, none of those were playable, but my ears perked up when the attendant told us the nearby library was in possession of a good piano.  A jaunt over there and a quick request resulted in Chris sitting down and making some amazing music.

The piano, a $40,000 Schiller in perfect condition, resonated powerfully throughout the huge room - what an exhilarating experience!

 

Maybe I should start an album of Chris playing pianos across the country.

A soda fountain in the desert . . .

What a way to end a long dusty day tramping around boulder-strewn canyons - a hamburger and a chocolate ice cream soda.  Marion, a Danish immigrant, opened her soda fountain in the small town of Roosevelt in 1933 after a stint delivering Wonder bread.  According to her great nephew, Chad, who operates the eatery/variety store still, Marion was a fun individual and a tireless worker.

Even after her passing, the emporium remains a stuffed-to-the-max floor-to-ceiling mass of miscellany offered for sale.  Along one wall is a counter with stools and a few booths where locals and tourists mingle over reasonably priced and delectable sandwiches and soda fountain drinks.

KOA doin's . . .

We're enjoying our new digs at the KOA.  The more open and larger spaces offered us a perfect opportunity to view the Aquarids meteor shower.  Feeding hummingbirds here is a whole different ballgame, too.  In the first three days, they ate a cup of nectar and threatened our very existence if we didn't supply a refill.  The sunsets aren't too shabby, either.

One chance in a million
July 30, 2016

The one day we were required to remain at home for an afternoon because the step-repair men were coming, I looked out at the motor home setting up right next to us, and was flabbergasted to see friends moving in as our neighbors!

On this trip, we have talked to people who are going to Prescott, people who have been to Prescott, people who are moving to Prescott, people who live in Prescott and people whose college roommate was from Prescott, but we had not met anyone we actually knew . . . until now.

Whatever are the chances?  Astronomically high, I am certain, that not only were our new neighbors Prescott residents, but they are friends whom we have known for substantial time and even attend church with.

It was great fun visiting with Bill & Betty and dining out together, marveling at the serendipity of being in the same place at the same time in a random RV park in another state.

Moonshine arch . . .

Knowing that the step warriors were not to arrive until afternoon, we accepted the gift of the morning as a time to hike out to nearby Moonshine arch, a most magnificent sight.  The hike was not overly long, less than a mile to get there, but pretty dang steep for some stretches, although well worth the effort.  The views along the way were awesome; the arch itself was amazing!

The stone bridge is right up against a rock alcove that would be worth seeing all by itself, but the two in combination are really stupendous.  I love the striations and convolutions of the massive structures.

Clearly, we climbed up fairly high from the surrounding countryside.

The only other folks out there was a young couple who hiked the strenuous trail much faster than we.  They kindly did not lord it over us and were sweet as could be.

Chris joined the young people up top of that precariously narrow precipice; I kept my feet on a more secure terra firma.

These roots prove the adage that "Where there's a will, there's a way"; they stretch about 15 feet down this rock chute and then easily another 20 feet inside the rock overhang before they disappear beneath the sand.

Historic ranches . . .

Our first foray to Josie Bassett Morris' ranch site on the Dinosaur National Monument was intriguing; however, an impending rainstorm compelled us to depart before our exploration was complete.  Seems that a low-water crossing on Cub Creek floods, insuring that whichever side of the rushing water you're on is the side on which you remain until the flood subsides.

Thus a return was necessary as I wanted to hike in Hog Canyon, the larger of the two box canyons that Josie utilized to corral her cattle.  On our return, we were fortunate weather-wise and had the canyon all to ourselves.

About a mile long and wide-bottomed (no snide remarks here, please), the canyon is thickly vegetated; a clear stream of water magically appears from beneath a cliff and runs down its length.  Rock walls tower far, far overhead and mirror the incredible beauty found throughout that region.  The cliffs are pocked by numerous caves and enticing hidey-holes.

In many places, the canyon floor is interrupted by house-size boulders that have thundered off the crumbling cliffs, many times dislodging huge numbers of other rocks and debris.  Even in that relatively small space, we encountered a surprising variety in vegetation and eco-systems.

 And plenty of poison ivy . . .

At the canyon's mouth, Josie created water catchment ponds.

If this were from one of our Florida hikes with Darren, there would be 'gators lurking.

I'm unsure if this wheat-like grass is a descendant of one of Josie's crops or a wholly wild plant but it was strikingly beautiful.

In addition, we encountered a rattlesnake of a type I haven't seen before.  It did not seem at all impressed by our presence and took its own sweet time to vacate our path, giving me ample opportunity for photographs.

Just in case anyone doubts my identification.

The Chew ranch is a private holding within the Dinosaur National Monument, owned by the same family for more than a hundred years.  I couldn't help but wonder if the Jack Chew that was associated with this ranch was related to the Jack Chew we knew in Chino Valley.

The ranch is beautifully and strategically located along the Green River and its bottomland.

These educational signs are spaced along the road as it rises out of the basin in which Vernal lies.  It's interesting to know which rock formation you're traversing, what era it was deposited and what fossilization can be found there.

We found a small vein of uintahite or asphaltite, also known as gilsonite, back at Fantasy Canyon, a mineral neither of us had ever heard of.  Naturally, the señor had to do some research about it and discovered that it is mined locally, but occurs nowhere else at all.  He also had to see if it would burn; obviously, it does.

This is Henrietta.  An RV neighbor said he puts her out to scare off little children.  He says she is/was a fox, which I have some doubts about, and that he found her in the same ratty condition, poorly taxidermied, in his grandfather's attic.  Henrietta gave me quite a start when I first noticed her.

A note . . .

Charlotte pointed out that I missed the boat when I announced the celebration of my birthday in dinosaur land but failed to mention the obvious age parallels.  Shucks, I hate it when I miss a good line . . .