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 . . .