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Dog Lake…and Lakes Mary, Martha, and Catherine

These aren’t necessarily from the archives proper, but the photos are from a little while ago.  August of last year found me visiting my Utah kids and then visiting the mountains and canyons south and east of Salt Lake City.  You might remember that I lived there for a few years…a few years ago now…and that I spent most weekends hiking in those nearby Wasatch Mountains.

Of the many hikes that I took while living in Utah, I never went to the lakes that I am presenting in this post.  They are situated in the conjoined space at the far eastern end of Big and Little Cottonwood Canyons.  In fact, one can walk up to the lakes from the Big Cottonwood side, at the Brighton ski resort, and continue on the trail back down to the Alta ski resort in Little Cottonwood Canyon, or vice versa.

I didn’t visit the lakes for the precise reason that I described above…their proximity to potentially great quantities of people.  To give a small example of how many people one might encounter there, let me say that there were five vehicles, including mine, when I arrived in the parking lot at 5:55 am, and over 50 when I returned to my truck at 10:30 am…and that was on a Monday morning in the middle of summer.  When I lived there, I hiked on weekend mornings…so I avoided the place…in hopes of avoiding the above mentioned “great quantities of people.”

I didn’t study a map of the mountains before leaving for the hike, so I was a little surprised that I would encounter Dog Lake on the near approach to Lake Mary.  The little body of water in the second photo is Dog Lake.  There is another Dog Lake in Millcreek Canyon, just north of Big Cottonwood Canyon…and back when I used to study my mountain map of the area, I knew of both of these Dog Lakes…but had forgotten about this one.  You might remember a black and white rendition of the above photo….

The photo below is from the close approach to Lake Mary…just a little ways further into the mountains from Dog Lake.  As you can see the concrete wall in this image, you can tell that this is actually a reservoir, not a true lake.

Not that it matters much, what we call it…especially when we get up to the mountain-reflecting body of water and look out over it….

I had a sense of being home again when I was out on the trail heading up to the lakes…off in the mountains…very few people around…the smells of mountain earth, forest, flowers, grasses, and maybe even the water…all of it flooding my head…rejuvenating the muscle-memories and the actual physical sense of “being” in those surroundings.

I would have to confess then, too, that my body also knew it was only visiting, that it had been existing in the desert at maybe 1,200 feet in elevation…and that it was now hiking from over 8,700 feet up to 9,200 feet…and I felt that difference in my lack of wind and the need to “pull over” every now and then to catch my breath…heart pounding as it was rejoicing….

You can see the top of the reservoir wall in the below image.

There were three or four people sitting around Lake Mary and their voices carried loudly over the water and in the thinner air, so I made my few photographs and then headed back up the trail…up a little further to Lake Martha.

The bluebells were in a huge clump, almost like a grove, actually, if that’s possible…a rather large swath of near boggy forest floor that was covered in great, dark green leaves of some familiar plant whose name I didn’t know…with pink sparks of Indian paintbrush…and then almost purple gray smudges of what became bluebells as I got closer.

Life in passing…in waiting…in anticipation….

Between Lakes Martha and Catherine, there is a something like a minor cirque on the south side of the trail…it rather resembled an amphitheater…an almost bowl-like depression in the ground like some huge something had reached down and scooped out a chunk of earth and then littered the ground with grass and wildflowers and pine cones and rock litter from the hills above….

I sat in the grass and flowers for several minutes with my elbows propped on my knees, making photo after photo of the flowers…with my head and heart lost in the present and the past and wanting to stay there…right there…for fucking ever.

Anyway….

The bowl of Lake Catherine from the left…

…the middle…

…and the right….

This little guy has a bite of my chocolate brownie Cliff’s bar in his hands….

Now heading away from the lake…

Encountering another little squirrel-person eating what he’s supposed to eat…and appearing more fit and trim for doing so….

Lake Mary from above….

Yes…my favorite flower, ever…the Colorado Columbine in its various opening stages.

Below…red, white, and blue Wasatch Mountain wildflowers.

And the trail back down from Lake Mary with its patch of near hedge-like accompaniment of yellow flowers…and the forest beyond….

Thank you for enduring the longer post…for going home again with me to my beloved Wasatch Mountains…even if it was only for a few minutes.  If you enjoyed the hike even half as much as I did, I know you absolutely loved it.

White Tank Mountains – Brittlebush

Encelia farinosa

Arizona Sonora Desert Museum fact-sheet

Sunday

March 1, 2020

8:14 – 8:55 a.m.

White Tank Mountains, Surprise, Arizona, United States

Arizona State Trust Land

Hiking

“Alone”

Not Lonely

Never Alone

vintage desert

One from the archives…November, 2018…looking east along the Walking Jim Trail…Lake Pleasant in the distance…and the rolling desert hills in between here and there.

two sides of the sky

One minute apart looking in opposite directions….

7:34 am, above; 7:35 am, below

Morning in the desert on State Trust land, just north of the White Tank Mountains in northwest Surprise, Arizona, USA.

New River Exploration

It’s been over a month already since I went looking for something new, a local place that contained a bit of wildness, a place that I hoped contained something like wildness, anyway.

I cross a bridge on my way to work every morning that spans a desert river that was a mere stream when I encountered it on January 5th of this year.

At this particular location, the river runs between the Glendale Municipal Airport to the west and the Arizona Cardinals’ stadium to the east….

…so it’s not exactly far away from anything civilized…and one might even suggest that it’s still smack-dab in the middle of it all.

I “had” to hop the fence that you might have noticed in the very first photo above.  I wanted to walk and explore along the actual river, so I had to get away from the cemented and fenced bike and walking path.  It was only upon my return to the walkway that I noticed the No Trespassing sign with its warning of prosecution, fines, and jail time.  Good grief.

Anyway, I found a free-flowing river, of sorts, one that happened to still be alive and moving in the desert.  I’m not sure how much of it will still be around come summer, but it was pleasant enough during my few hours out there.

One might consider that the riparian vegetation and bird life was enough to make this something approaching “wild.”

When we look closely we can see microcosms of life beneath the desert trees; we can see the tiny flora that can’t help but enrich the soil of the waterway.

There was an unexpected diversity of riparian trees, bushes, grasses, and other assorted growing stuff along the way.

You may already know of my admiration for dew drops on morning desert grasses….

It was almost easy to forget that I was close to an airport and football stadium when I didn’t look around or hear an aircraft overhead.

There was a feeling of being “away,” as long as I focused on what I could see and not so much on what I could hear.

I’m not sure of the particular variety, but there were many cottonwood trees along the waterway.

And even a fairly grand assortment of bird-life, as well (more to be highlighted in a following post).

Even a richness in the winter-colored ground-cover….

I don’t know what they’re called, but I think they’re fascinating little Japanese lantern type things that I found in only one spot along the river.

After going south and exploring close to a mile along the waterway, I encountered a significantly boggy stretch of ground that would have prevented me from keeping my boots dry if I continued heading in that direction.

So I went back north and past the roadway that I drive every morning, under the overpass, and into another stretch of the riparian wilderness that was more densely packed with trees and reeds and tall wild grasses and other thriving things.  I had to skirt quite a bit of the more slowly moving water and take a broader view of the area.

I finally made it close enough to the water and found the above setting; it was almost like being under a forest canopy.

A final image of the New River plant life.

a tree in context

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Palo Verde tree with low clouds over White Tank Mountains, 11/29/2019.

Toward Frary Peak on Antelope Island – Part Middle

We pick-up this post where we ended the last one, nearly the same spot, slightly different perspective, and a few/many feet further up the trail.

The hiking figure below me on the trail is continuing on her trek upwards, as well, drawing nearer, becoming more defined, and still providing an excellent gauge for perspective.  She is near the center of the below image….

Looking back over these photographs, I am still held by the colors and the expanse of vision, even with the slight haze in the distance.  It seems to add to the almost ethereal state of the place in my memory, these several months since the hike.

The images of the broader landscape do not show much color in the grasses that cover the island, but taking a closer look, we can see that there is quite a bit of green remaining in the middle of August.

The hiker has now passed me in her trek up toward the peak.  She told me that she didn’t live too far away and that she hiked the trail several times a month.  How wonderful for her, and for the island as well, to have such a dedicated and frequent visitor.

A sun drenched trail on a summer morning….

The below photo shows Stansbury Island (peninsula?) to the west.  When the lake’s water level is as low as it has been in recent years, one can literally walk to the island on the exposed lake-bed.  I went exploring there several years ago and did not find it as compelling as my trips to Antelope Island.  There have been more mining and other commercial endeavors on Stansbury and only the far west side accommodates public visitation.

Looking north and east in the below photo, we can see the lighter gray of the lake-bed between the darker earth and the evident blue of the water…

….and south and east in the below image, down toward Salt Lake City with the Wasatch Mountains in the distance…and the layered and fractured rock in the foreground.

I had seen photos of the lone tree when I searched the internet for other images from the island.  The ones from winter-time with the stark white of the snow-covered ground were most compelling.

One last segment to follow….

White Tank Mountains – State Trust Land

In April of the past year I went trespassing onto State Trust land that lies north and west of the White Tank Mountains.

White Tank Mountains, northwest side

I have now obtained my permit and can hike, shoot guns, park my truck, camp, get drunk and disorderly, or just otherwise mind my own business out there in the fenced desert of western Maricopa County.

White Tank Mountains closer to destination

On that first foray, I noticed the barely visible zigzag road on the side of the distant mountainside and purposed to get there someday, sometime, some other not-scorching Arizona morning.  Those are clumps of mistletoe hanging/subsisting in the palo verde tree in the below photograph…and creosote/greasewood in the foreground.

White Tank Mountain creosote, palo verde, and saguaro

So that’s where I went with purpose yesterday morning, back to that formerly trespassed land.  My plans for the day had been canceled and I jumped at the opportunity to get out there, to get out into the out-of-doors that lies just northwest of the town where I reside…to get into the literal desert just out there and beyond.

White Tank Mountain wild grasses

I’ve mentioned in the past how I find much of the desert so unappealing, especially when viewed from a distance, when all one sees is the rolling or flat or hilly or mountainy landscape or terrain or whatever you might call it…those locations where it just looks like dirt with green fur on it, if there’s even any fur to be seen.

White Tank Mountain panorama

And I’ve said, too, that I have intentionally gone out into the same desert looking for what my inner eye/heart might consider to be beautiful, compelling, possessing of that “something” that would make my mountain/forest loving soul, say, “Yes…it is beautiful out here.”

White Tank Mountain cholla skeleton

I have also shared that in order to find those things, I have had to look closer, to find those smaller things that give me pause, that insist upon being captured in images for me to reflect upon later, for me to enjoy.

White Tank Mountain ocotillo blossom

And so I endeavored….

White Tank Mountain assorted fauna

…to bring back images that were not too bleached-out by the late morning and early afternoon sun…

White Tank Mountain desert hillside

…to capture what might be a compelling representation of the essence of the lives that inhabit such a landscape…

White Tank Mountains wild grasses

…photographs that demonstrate what the desert is inside of that bleakness…the rolling fuzzy dirt of our West….

White Tank Mountain cholla

…the persistence of living…

White Tank Mountains decaying cholla

…the evidence of death and decay…

White Tank Mountains grass and cactus

…and the beautiful juxtaposition of harsh and delicate…

White Tank Mountain cactus in grass

…sharp and soft…

White Tank Mountains cholla and creosote

…loud and mute…

White Tank Mountains cholla in grass

…and may they be treasured…all.

White Tank Mountains grassy hillside

Thank you….

ADDENDUM: here is a nice link from AZBackcountryExplorers.com that provides helpful information about using State Trust Land.

Toward Frary Peak on Antelope Island – Part First

My very first trip to Antelope Island State Park was in February of 2012.  If you’re curious, you can click on this link to be taken back to the post I published after that visit.  And now my very most recent trip, partially documented in the following images, is from seven and one half years later, August of 2019.

Looking northeast-ish….

As I noted in the earlier posts about the sunrise on Antelope Island, it was my intention to get to the trailhead of the path that leads to Frary Peak at sunrise…but I was somehow delayed by the splendor of said sunrise reflecting off of the lake, etc., and didn’t get there until about an hour and a half later.

Turning your head a bit to the right from the above image…with the Wasatch Mountains in the background….

The images that follow are a chronological accounting of my hike up to the higher reaches on the island, close to 6,600 feet in elevation.  The trail is 3.5 miles in length and has an elevation gain of about 2,050 feet…which places the trailhead at right around 4,550 feet above sea level.

And now looking further southeast…back down toward Salt Lake City….

And I guess we could say we’re looking pretty much due south now in the below photo.

I’m drawn to the earth colors, the undulating hills, minor canyons or drainages, the small and larger crags, and the space that is open, yet bordered by the near water and the far mountains…I find it all compelling in a visceral sort of way.

All of this curved area in the below photo is referred to as “White Rock Bay,” which you can see here in an image from February 2014, with a much different perspective, as viewed from the north.

If I’m not mistaken, that’s Fremont Island off to the north…just left of center in the below photo…across the water.

Blue-green-gray sage in the foreground has an alluring scent, kind of resinous…and strong enough to linger on my fingertips for hours after rubbing/crushing the leaves between them…a small take-home treasure.

I didn’t see any antelope, but there were multiple strings of American Bison slowly trailing down the far/western side of the island.

A person approaches, below….

More to follow….