A most pleasant reunion
July 18, 2016

Our little side trip over to the nothing-at-all-like-a-metropolis of Tropic was for the sole purpose of seeing our friend, Harriet, in Escalante, so away we went on Saturday morning to meet up at the farmer's market where she offers her wares.

In the foreground are prints and cards that Harriet creates from her original artwork.  The top page is her artistic interpretation of the view from the Thunderbird Gallery and Maynard Dixon's studio, the same scene that Chris played on the piano there.

The itsy bitsy market is a real social hour for locals; it was ever so nice to see Harriet and to get acquainted with many of her friends and folks who have supported her through hard times.  I am very impressed with the sense of community in Escalante.

The day gave us much opportunity for catching-up conversation, which is wholly different in person than otherwise.  We met her furry felines, lunched at the unique Kiva Koffee House (I highly recommend it - for the food, the ambiance and the views from its perch at the edge of the canyon) and ventured once again along the ridge-top highway to Boulder, the one that we wisely avoid while hauling the trailer.

The lure in Boulder was its annual heritage festival on the grounds of the Anasazi State Park.

I loved the memorial Mardi Gras cow!

The setting was perfect for relaxing . . .

. . . really relaxing.

Many, many trekkers venture through the area.  The backpack on the left is notable - it is beautifully handmade.

What's a festival without a crystal ball and palm reader.

Back at Tropic . . .

Lush irrigated hay fields contrast with the surrounding multi-hued cliffs.

A farm lane, genealogy . . .

We availed ourselves of a Tropic farm lane to catch the sun's last rays across the valley and see what there was to see.

Ripening fruit is abundant; we've seen incredible volumes of cherries, peaches, apricots, pears and apples.

Plentiful fields provide pasturage and hay for stock raising.

We inadvertently foiled this guy's plans for an evening meal at the farmer's expense.

I had to laugh as I watched this handsome gelding stand in the sprinkler shower for a long evening cool-down.  He looked supremely content and showed not the slightest inclination to step out of the spray.

In the midst of our activities, I managed to complete a genealogy job and send it off and to put in a rather pitiful attempt at indexing for Family Search.  That organization requested volunteers to do indexing for online genealogy records.  My intentions were good; the resulting assistance rather paltry.

The sights . . .

The prominence of Powell Point can be seen from all the way down at Page and Lake Powell.

Everywhere a person turns in this country highlights a different spectacular scene, whether sand, painted desert, slick rock, balanced hoodoos, badlands or colored rock strata.

These two prehistoric structures are something like 300 feet up in a small rock alcove.  A couple from France came along while we were viewing these, so we loaned them our binoculars and attempted to explain what they were seeing despite speaking a different language.  My smattering of French completely deserted me as soon as I needed it.  Notice the gigantic snake rock art to the left of the granary.

My inability to say anything to the foreigners in their French language besides "Where is the library" did not deter the woman from utilizing what may have been her only English phrase.  She cheerfully waved and said "See you later", to which I responded in kind and we both laughed.

Johns Valley, Otter Creek . . . 

Not for the first time,  we made use of Johns Valley road to avoid the crazed ridge-top pavement between Escalante and Boulder; I am totally enthralled with the countryside along that route.  It's also very nice that traffic is almost completely confined to cattle and sheep.

We did not stop at the old mill site this time, did lots of exploring there last time through.

As we approached Otter Creek and its reservoir, I was excited to spot a raft of white pelicans circling the lake.  We walked along the creek and were rewarded with a life bird - a redhead, one lone duck bobbing along on a side pond of Otter Creek.  This is said to be a prime trout water; we would like to return to try it out.

Speed limit 80, Huntington Lake . . .

A short bypass on Interstate 70 shocks us with its sign cautioning motorists not to exceed 80 mph, jarring after our time on narrow winding back roads.

The day ends with us set up at Huntington Lake State Park where the inflatable island is a big attraction.