Canyons & the Wind Rivers!

Revisiting Red Canyon . . .

. . . Our stop along the highway when passing by previously had piqued our interest in haviing a closer look at that amazing brilliant green valley buttressed by stark red cliffs; it was wonderful to have the opportunity for exploration in that direction.

Although we anticipated a pleasant drive, the experience was so much more than any expectations.  Indeed, for its entirety, it was one of the most beautiful places I’ve ever seen.  All that excessive spring moisture has produced abundant grasses that carpet the rolling terrain along the way.  Down low, nearly hidden by the excessively wet spring-season abundance of high grass & other vegetation is a small stream working its way slowly downward, in the process creating a riparian area through the valley bottom.

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

At one juncture, we spent time trying to identify what birds were calling in the giant cottonwoods framing an abandoned cabin, but were wholly unsuccessful.  There were many at that spot.  I was sure I heard an oriole, but could not spot it nor any of the others.  We’ve neglected to mention other birds added to the trip list a bit before this stop; they include double-crested cormorant, great-tailed grackle, ring-billed gull, eastern kingbird, Say's phoebe, song sparrow, barn swallow & rock wren.

  

Much of that bottomland is managed by the Nature Conservancy, which has it posted for “No trespassing”.  In my case, they needn’t have bothered - I was far too busy with fending off the biting insects where I was.

 

 

Even the road that took us through that luscious country is attractive.

In contrast . . .

. . . Sinks Canyon was as strange as Red Canyon was beautiful.  Where Red Canyon’s waterway was a quietly meandering stream, Sinks Canyon has a fast-descending river - the middle fork of the Popo Agie (prononuced Puh-POE-zha - interpret that as you wish).  

And that is where the sink enters the picture.  The river comes cascading crazily down over boulders, crashes into a huge limestone cave mouth . . . and disappears completely!  

  

 

 

 

  

 

 

The rough & rocky channel below there is completely dry for about one-fourth mile until numerous gentle streams of water flow from stream-side bushes to fill a large placid pool, continuing on down the canyon as if nothing unusual had just occurred.  Locally, that place is called “The rise”.

 

 

 

Many huge trout, moochers though they may be, inhabit that pool, no doubt attracted and enlarged by the food that visitors purchase onsite to feed them from a platform above.

The river’s quarter-mile journey through the sink remains a mystery.  Dye tests have shown that, for an unknown reason, the water takes about two hours to travel that short distance.   Not only that (as if that wasn’t sufficiently odd), there is substantially more water when it exits the sink than when it went in.  Evidently, the surmise is that the river flows downward for a substantial distance underground prior to coming back up to return to the surface channel.

It is a really fascinating thing to see.  I love my friend Tom's suggestion to drop a rubber ducky into the top end, and wait to see when, or if it surfaces at the rise.

Lazuli buntings were numerous in that area - one of my favorites.

 

On the mountain . . .

More dirt roads - a little rough, but necessary to reach mountain lakes in the Wind River Range.  One halt we called was priceless: there stood a dusky grouse in mid-road.  She was statue-still, and giving us the stink eye.  After a spell of being glared at, we began to understand why she had stopped us as surely as if she'd been a school crossing guard with a sign hoisted overhead.

Out of the roadside bushes came a juvenile taking its time marching over to the bushes on the other side of the road.  But there mom still stood as stern as could be, until another youngster strutted across, then another and another until she had five safely across.  There may have been others before we arrived; nevertheless, there was no question who was in charge during that interchange.  Wish I could have gotten better shots, but in making sure not to upset the apple cart by opening the door, I  was photographing through the windshield while the empress was in shadow.

 

 

Now to those lakes: we fished two of them - Louis & Fiddlers - successfully . . .

 

 

. . . and had a blast at a spot on the Little Popo Agie, where the trout were hungry, and the scenery was absolutely breathtaking.