The one that really got away, and Palm Canyon

Martinez Lake . . .

Yet another body of water to check out - Martinez Lake, impounded by Imperial Dam - and one that was unique in that it is mostly inaccessible except by boat.  In fact, it seemed perfect to explore by kayak with its many finger channels winding through reed-covered shorelines.  On our next visit, I would like to rent a small motor boat to fully explore it and the river's main channel.

 

 

A fishing fiasco . . .

We found only one place to fish that lake - a dock that reached out into a large open water - so that's where we began our ill-fated fishing experience.

It began innocently enough.  Each of us were using two rods with different methods.  "Watch my poles", the señor requested, as he headed for the truck to retrieve something or other.  Not an uncommon thing to ask, and I was happy to comply (but I suspect I may never again do so).  

As I kept my peripheral attention on his angling set-up, I noticed a sudden ruckus to my left.  Wow, I rushed over to where he had been fishing only about six feet away and grabbed his rod that was dancing quite an enthusiastic jig.  I hooked the fish and began to reel it in, except that he had left his drag open and the line was completely snarled around the reel.  As I worked on sorting out how it was entangled and how to free it, I was trying to deal with what was obviously a large fish on the line.

At that point, I became aware of a commotion back at my station and turned just in time to see the splash as my rod and reel hit the water after being pulled up and over the railing where it had been leaning!  It happened so fast that I could only stand and stare at the empty space where my fishing pole had been.

Eventually, the señor ambled on back, untangled the mess and almost landed an estimated five or six pound catfish.  It was too heavy to take out of the water.  Didn't compare to the monster at Port O'Connor, but a hefty catch, at any rate.  We couldn't help but wonder at the size of the one that absconded with my rod and reel.

Badlands . . .

As we explored the countryside, we came to an area dubbed The Painted Desert.  Seemed the perfect time to get in a scramble out through some intriguing landscape.  We saw nary another person, while fully expecting to encounter a burro or many.  There was ample evidence of their presence, and I was disappointed never to spot any.  The hike was invigorating and interesting even so.

A military presence . . .

The region is surrounded by Army proving grounds and various military installations.  Two weather balloons were visible near us, and we heard bomb explosions in the distance, as well as a variety of military aircraft overhead.  It was impossible not to think of what is happening in Ukraine.

Palm Canyon . . .

Just about every one of the million times I've ridden down Highway 95 and passed the turnoff sign for Palm Canyon, I have reiterated my desire to go there.  For the record, I envisioned the experience as a stroll along between high rock cliffs culminating in a palm-shaded and -cooled grove.

As it turns out, the reality was far different from my imaginings.  I have long been in awe of the many rugged mountains ringing those wide-open desert plains; that admiration is only enhanced by every visit.  I cannot get enough of how the sun light and cloud shadows accentuate every crease and crevice in the rocks.

Massive and majestic Signal Peak in the Kofa Range is where the trees are nestled snugly in a south-facing crevasse.

 

It is possible to get right among the palms, the only place in Arizona where native California palms grown in their native habitat; however, we viewed them from across the ravine as do most folks, not that we encountered many others during our climb.

A trail of sorts has been scrabbled out to wind around the bouldery slope, and just in case a person is too busy watching their footing to notice when the trees come into view, a sign has been posted.  I had to laugh about it, but it actually would be easy to miss them if you weren't keeping a close eye out.

 

I've read that there are about a hundred of them; we also spotted a few singles and pairs in other vertical cracks in the solid rock face.

 

 

Next time, we will try the trek down into the canyon and back up the other side, but I admit I'm not overly  excited about doing it.  It's another of many things that I might pass up, but end up being happy I went ahead and did it.

Even without the attraction of the fascinating trees surviving in their niche (don't we all feel comfort in our own niche!), the jaunt would have been well worth it for the incredible beauty offered by nature.  A bonus was the ocotillos were opening blossoms with a hue that is one of my all-time favorites.

Spiraling . . .

If it were not for the señor's penchant for google-earthing, we would never have known about the Koh-Kopelli spiral labyrinth that has been painstakingly crafted on the desert varnish ground surface by an anonymous being.  Even after spotting it in the overhead photos, it was not easy to find.  We were happy that we took the time to do it; we walked the entire spiral, a lengthy and time-consuming activity, and felt very good about it.

I found a great satisfaction as I walked: a strong sense of being only in the moment, no thought of the beginning nor of the end.  I had only experienced Chartres labyrinths previously; this was unique in that there were no twists and turns, only continuing forward.

The señor, however, had at some point counted the number of revolutions - 22.

Desert flowers . . .

Besides brittle bush, which was profusely blooming, we saw no other desert wildflowers, which made the ocotillo and palo verde flowers even more welcome.