Big game!
August 31, 2016
Wildlife, birds, vegetation, rocks, water, scenery - all fascinating, intriguing, captivating, but none of it compares to what happened on our last hike of the trip. The trek was on the Coal Creek trail, a little utilized destination that leads into the South San Juan Wilderness. It was not the most attractive hike we've done: a very narrow steep trail through thick underbrush, heavily treed, mucky, eroded and unmaintained.
Although the trail accesses the wilderness area, it may not be very popular because there are no lakes along its way, and the dearth of humanity may explain the large amount of bear sign we noted. We made it a point to chatter away as we walked through fairly extensive brushy areas.
Not too far after we crossed Coal Creek, Chris was in the lead on the single-file track when he stopped suddenly and said, "I see a bear!" Although we've seen bears in "the wild", we'd never encountered one while out hiking on a lonely trail.
Somehow, my thought has always been that if I sighted a bear, I could gain safety by putting some trees between me and bruin. Well, never mind that absurd idea: "our" bear was no more interested in interacting with us than we were with him, thus he took off lickety-split on a trajectory across in front of us so that we got to watch him run. That cinnamon-hued beast could have covered the 100 feet between us before I could have so much as thought about unrooting my feet.
We were crazy excited to have seen him and crazy grateful it transpired the way it did. So . . . that is the last time I go hiking in the boonies without bear spray . . . in my hand . . . at the ready. I don't believe in pushing my luck.
Grizzlies . . .
With bears being in the forefront of my thoughts, I did a bit of research and discovered that there are some who think the South San Juan Wilderness region may still harbor some of the grizzly variety. The last verified of that species in Colorado was killed in 1979 when it attacked a hunting guide who managed to kill it with a hand-held arrow in the course of a frightful struggle!
I found this information about the area we hiked online: "Many call the South San Juan Wilderness Colorado's wildest corner. True, the landscape here, one of broken volcanic peaks and cliffs, poses a formidable barrier to travel, but the overriding reason for this reputation resides in the probable presence of one critter - the 'griz'. Of all the places in Colorado likely to still harbor North America's most fearsome creature, the rugged and remote southern San Juan Mountains seem best suited. A great bear was killed here in 1979, the last known Colorado grizzly. But rumor, extrapolation and scientific evidence all join hands to suggest strongly that more grizzlies, if they still live anywhere in Colorado, inhabit the recesses of this rugged Wilderness, which many claim as the wildest left in the state."
"Because of the impenetrable forests and rugged terrain, state wildlife biologists rate the south San Juans the best suited habitat in Colorado for wilderness dependent species, such as grizzlies and wolverines, that thrive only in unmodified natural habitats rarely visited by humans. Both of the species were long thought to be extinct in Colorado, but circumstantial evidence points to their possible continued existence here. In 1979, some 25 years after the last grizzly sighting in Colorado, a bow hunter killed a startled sow in the south San Juans. Soon after, the Colorado Division of Wildlife launched a search for additional grizzlies in the area. Their snares and searches came up empty, but citizens unconvinced by the lack of evidence launched their own search in 1990. Several summers' efforts by volunteers of Round River Conservation Studies and Save Our San Juans uncovered hair samples, scat, and several reliable bear sightings, enough to convince knowledgeable bear authorities that grizzlies probably still roam this mountainous region."
This link goes to that man's amazing account of his harrowing experience with the grizzly: http://denver.cbslocal.com/2012/05/23/man-recounts-a-fight-for-life-with-colorados-last-grizzly/. It is an interesting read, although poorly transcribed.
Lower Piedra . . .
Last summer, we hiked along the Piedra River near its upper terminus, and planned to later enter its canyon further downstream, an effort that I called a halt to this time because the road was becoming far more narrow and precipitous than I cared for. Impending storms also worked against the plan, as lightning began to strike thereabouts.
The canyon-wall drive did offer some striking views, though. At one point, we spotted two large flocks of wild turkeys in the only place along there that wasn't nearly straight up and down. We would have halted for a hike there except for the blasted (sorry!) lightning.
 |
| Between terror (mine) at this road's precipitous drop-offs and an impending lightning-filled rainstorm, we called off that drive. |
 |
| The Piedra River |
 |
| We were clueless what this large shallow turquoise pool was about. |
Treasure Falls . . .
We had not been to Treasure Falls for several years, so decided a revisit was in order, and we were very happy we returned. We chose a so-called primitive trail for our climb up to the waterfall's base and found it to be steep but easily doable and prettier than the more used path.
Not at all surprisingly, I couldn't stop taking photographs of the water, the foliage and the views.
West Fork . . .
As it turns out, there remain several regions in the Pagosa area that we have not yet explored. We enjoyed one short hike west of Windy Pass and Treasure Falls, which led us to a driving jaunt crossing the West Fork of the San Juan River.
We had to laugh when we caught a break in the wall of trees and saw Treasure Falls from an entirely different perspective. When viewed from the start of the hike up to the cascade, it appears that it drops from way up at the top of the sheer cliff; its seeming massiveness dwindles into insignificance when viewed from across the valley.
 |
| There it is: that massive waterfall seen against the backdrop of the infinitely more massive mountains. |
Soaking . . .
We love the Pagosa area for hiking and exploring; however, The Springs is the primary attraction. No matter what else is happening, we like to get over there daily for a soak in various temperature pools - a relaxing and rejuvenating experience.
 |
| This extensive deposit has been created by the hot mineralized spring water. |
 |
| Meanwhile, back at the ranch, we enjoyed getting to know Bob & Catherine, both as our
RV neighbors and visiting while soaking. They, along with canines Ruby
& Dexter, were camping in a Tab trailer with tent extension, one
of many such ingenious set-ups we've seen on various teardrop
trailers. The couple enjoys their outings, but say they are ready to
upsize a bit. |
 |
| For
the first time, we saw tubers on the San Juan up by the RV park. I
have no idea where they may have put in nor how many times they must
have dragged bottom with the flow so low. |
 |
| Always the goats by Pagosa Riverside RV Park, but this batch was very un-goat-like when they continued grazing instead of rushing to the fence for ear scratching. |
Aztec, Acoma . . .
All things, of the desired type or the glad-to-be-rid-of-it kind, eventually cease, and so it was with our summer sojourn. The plan was to depart Colorado, drive to Holbrook where we would spend one night while packing and cleaning the trailer and arrive home in a fairly leisurely way.
That all went somewhat according to plan except for one strategical error. We'd been to the Aztec Ruins National Monument once before - a very long time ago - and somehow, since we would be going right by it, our logic seemed irrefutable that we should revisit the site.
Aztec is located near Farmington, New Mexico, right along out route, and was easily accessible with the trailer. The villages were occupied, so we are told, between 1100 and 1300 a.d. I am amazed at the advanced planning that went into their construction, including being astronomically aligned for reasons that are lost in antiquity.
In places, the three-story high structures retain original roofs and ceilings; I marvel to be able to walk through room after room, connected by doorways so low they require me to stoop fully over to get through.
The site consists of more than 400 rooms and several ceremonial kivas, and is known for its great kiva, the largest in the Southwest.
Stabilization work is being conducted to forestall further crumbling of the ancient walls. We were fortunate to be able to speak with some of the workmen engaged in the process. They were very friendly and forthcoming about their endeavors, explaining in detail how and what they were doing.
Of course I had questions, and they patiently answered them all, showing me the logs and photographs that chronicled every step of the process.
The best part was when they enthusiastically invited us to their home village of Acoma, another Native American pueblo that has continued to be inhabited. They explained that the following day, September 2, is set aside for Acoma's largest festival of the year. Our plans precluded accepting their invitation; however, we have determined to attend next year.
Because that was a fairly long driving day and we were missing our daily hike, we followed up our tour of Aztec with a walk on a portion of the Old Spanish Trail that lies near the ruins and crosses the Animas River there. In 1829, a trade caravan of 60 men led by Antonio Armijo passed by there as they traveled from New Mexico to California and camped beside the Animas, near a place where we crossed it on a footbridge.
Our "short" stop that expanded to exploring the ruins and an accompanying museum and walking the trail, combined with heavy traffic through Farmington and Gallup and a plethora of delaying highway construction caused us to be working until 9:30 that night to get all packed and cleaned. Ah well, it got done and we once again enjoyed the pancake breakfast offered at the Holbrook KOA, so we were off and gone early and arrived home mid-day, a satisfying end to a frenetic explore of Utah and Colorado.
Arizona calls . . .
Not content to cease our wanderings, I have set a goal to hike in every wilderness area in Arizona. First up, two days after getting home, was Juniper Mesa Wilderness, one we have skirted around in previous hikes, but not really gone into.
Traversing Williamson Valley Road, we encountered a bull snake that artfully arranged itself on the roadway where it would surely be run over, so we turned around and convinced it to relocate, not without some difficulty, I might add. Perhaps it was still too cool to be enthusiastic about moving, but we finally got it off the road where it quite rudely and loudly hissed at us.
More stops along the way at water tanks to peruse the bird situation: at one, a lone swimmer stumped us for a while until we identified it as a molting juvenile Wilson's phalarope. When we checked at the end of our day, it was still putzing around the small pond, content to continually pick at bits of something on the water's surface.
 |
| We had the place all to ourselves for our six-mile hike on Oaks & Willows Trail in Juniper Mesa Wilderness. Truthfully, it was very rough and rocky footing for pretty much the entire distance; this was the single view we obtained for our trouble. |
