Please Close Gate


PLEASE CLOSE the GATE.  (Another boring high-desert ramble Wif Da Dorgz)

I don’t know what they’re keeping out, or in.  Perhaps they just want to make all the motor-idiots slow down, even stop, while going from one side to the other.  This gate nor fence wouldn’t deter the bighorns, below …

The Nine-Mile Hill bighorn sheep herd, part of which is pictured above, hadn’t been very visible these past few months.  Today, they’re out grazing, in their full glory for all the nearby highway traffic to view.

Meanwhile, back at “the gate” Rocksea, Sleven, and Dually engage in a pre-hike sniffaroony.

We stop on a ridgetop just south of what I call East Pass to Cactus Park.  View is to northwest — with snow-covered Pinyon Mesa on the horizon, and the red desert sandstone cliffs along Unaweep Canyon beyond the relatively flat Cactus Park.  What would be impressively visible just a couple miles further west — unseen from this vantage point — are the massive pre-cambrian granite cliffs which displace and replace the reddish sandstone.

Turning 120-degrees to the east, we look to the shaley steep slopes of theBookcliffs.  What you can’t see is that my house, along with a few thousand others, is on the valley floor before the Bookcliffs.

Gibbler Mountain, the primary west-edge landmark of Cactus Park.  A pleasant breezy cloudily-scattered-cloudy day.

Dool pauses alongside an inuk-thingy in the trees.

Rocksea peers down …

The truck is just off the “road” towards the left.

We get home.  The kitten is prostrate at the foot of the Lithograph of the Cat-Saint Bearing Fish.

… we’re in trouble.

SNOW RUN (& ‘drive’)

This gallery contains 16 photos.

Satyrday nite, Nov. 10, we had our first ‘stick-to-the-ground’ snow since last winter.  Not a LOT of snow, but the accompanying cold temps (it’s also been a while since we’ve been sub-freezing) kept the white stuff around a while.  And … Continue reading

Indiana Betunada and the Wombat CowSkull Shrine

Dogzeneye discover the Wombat Cow-Skull Shrine.

Darned E T’s.  What should be a glorious sunrise is compromised, thrown into a bit of doubt, by yet another of their hovering spy-craft keeping watch on us.  The thinly-veiled attempt at disguising it as a cloud didn’t fool me.  I think they’re wasting their time keeping me under surveillance!  So, later in the day I decide to go on a foray into the Olivivas Wilderness Area, taking the dogs along with.

The weatherman warned to “expect a bit of weather,” and bit of weather it (whatever “it” is) did, indeed.  What had been a dry mostly cloudless week rapidly changed.  The front rolled in …

Dually peers down into gathering fog.  Soon, it began to snow.  (First of “the season” for this area).  The white stuff melted pretty quick after it hit the ground, but there were brief intense flurries.

The clouds thickened.  The wind picked up.  RockSea gives the lower elevation one last look before we turned and …

… stumbled onto the Wombat CowSkull Shrine.  In a mysterious* open area where nothing grew, the word “wombat” was spelled-out with rocks.  Above it was a sort of … shrine? Totem? Warning symbol?

*(“Mysterious” as during our trek we moved through as thick a forest as one would encounter in the “high desert” — which our region is categorized as.  Yeah … this forest wouldn’t be “thick” in, say, the Pacific Northwest).

View of the Wombat from right-to-left, and

from left-to-right.

Rocksea and the mysterious assemblage of bones.  The dogs didn’t even linger to consider hauling off a piece for gnawing.  (There was a large enough collection of the rest of the skeleton nearby).

I checked the time and we would have to hurry to get back to the car before dark.

I usually have a basic idea of where I am when in the Olivivas Wilderness Area.  This time I was put to the test, what with fog and diminishing light.  And I had a difficult time keeping my cigar lit.   We arrived back where the car was parked with less than five minutes before it would have been completely dark.

Is everything related to everything else?  or are there many disparate un-connected random chaotic aspects and things and trends winding about?  Somehow, it made sense when I got home and checked the stats on my blog.  One search term which someone had entered, and was directed to this site was:

“Our give a shit expired long ago”

It’s like the man said, when this happens, I think you can then DO THINGS without a sense of attachment nor identification with the fruits of your actions.  Hompity ho …