The spires, Cathedral Rock, taken from a unique position, Sedona, close to sunset.
Jenni dwarfed by canyon walls, Fall Canyon, Death Valley.
Jen approaches the first climb, Big Dune, Nevada.
We set out from our motel in Bullhead City, Arizona heading toward Nevada which happens to be across the Colorado River, a mere few minutes yonder. What a fascinating river it is. We’ve observed it in Colorado, Utah, Arizona, Nevada and probably elsewhere but certainly in multi-places within the states mentioned. A few days ago, we overlooked it at the Grand Canyon—this river sure gets around. At times, we feel sorry for it as humans are forever damming it and ‘stealing’ its water. We’ve seen it at our favorite, Lake Mead, at Hoover Dam, Davis, Lakes Powell and Havasu, Imperial, Parker and Glen Canyon dams. The river pauses at many other places, too. We have to drink to survive, of course, nevertheless, we do feel a tinge of embarrassment for these appropriations.
We chose to wander across the desert, a few miles over the border into Nevada. Having parked at the side of a road leading to Davis Dam, we went cross country toward the mountains some 4 or so miles distant. As we have realized over the years, no mountain is ever lower than it appears or terrain as level as it seems—quite the contrary. We spent the day dropping down into depressions, dry washes, and canyons and of course, rising from each one. Eventually, we reached the mountain range and selected to ascend the peak of the one identified at our commencement. It was a delightful experience. We both concurred that there’s something honest or refreshing about doing it the natural way—what appears to be virgin territory. Don’t get us wrong. We love trails but it’s special tackling nature on its own terms and hopefully, succeeding. We joked, not funny though, that our hike was tantamount to designing a trail. Jen wants to give it a name—maybe, Amateurs-R-Us. (continued below...)
Stiff ascending after diverting from the end of the Golden Canyon hike, Death Valley, California.
Particularly steep and soft to the right, Big Dune, Nevada.
Cathedral Rock, Sedona, negotiating the gulley.
Golden Canyon, Death Valley.
From the saddle between Black and Red Mountains, a view of a "solitary hiker" at peak of the latter.
This is a rather long preamble to something which I have felt strongly about for an extended period. Over the years, as we have trudged up, over and down mountains as well along rough terrain, it’s a constant reminder of our predecessors. In earlier times, the land was without roads, trails or paths. Imagine what it was like for pioneers to advance into the interior and cross countries with only primitive tools and equipment, wagons and carts powered by animals. The land was filled with wild beasts, many predators of man, hazards unknown, a hostile, rough and unforgiving land, disease, inhospitable conditions and perhaps mostly, the great unknown. Whereas I have tremendous admiration and awe for man’s technological accomplishments, I believe I relate more to the challenges met in conquering the land and opening it up to future generations. I also believe we, the future generations, have not and continue not to understand and appreciate what sacrifices were made by these pioneers. Place yourself into the lives of those who accomplished success on these torturous journeys including even a greater number who probably did not make the full stretch or even short distances.
Why do we not understand or appreciate it? Think of your travel experiences; I certainly do and am embarrassed. It was a hardship to sit in an automobile with temperature control, food and liquid available, and now, televisions, phones, computers and other gadgets and think nothing of complaining of boredom and any other inconvenience. En route, there are places to stop, stretch, dine, shower or sleep for the night. A person does not even have to go out for food. You order in, drive-through or even have so-called fast-food delivered. Heck, we are soft generations. We certainly can’t hold a torch to these earlier generations. Yes, I know. Man has traveled to the moon, linked continents by air and sea, even rail and has invented miraculous technology. It is amazing, incredible, unbelievable—select your description. However, this does not affect or shape or build a person as does the sweat, hardship, suffering and discovery as those who opened-up new frontiers here on the raw and inhospitable land and environment. I walk around in awe of these pioneers.
I’m now ready to face, preferably duck, an expected verbal and 'physical' onslaught.
Plateau Point, Grand Canyon, watching the flow of another grand river, The Colorado. Our position is some 3,300 feet below the rim.
Golden Canyon, Death Valley, California...still amazed by the beauty of this section.
Big Dune again. Jen makes first prints since last wind sweep.
Jen coming out of another canyon, using rings to gain purchase, in the Mojave Desert, California.
A somewhat different approach to Cathedral Rock, Sedona. The perspective from there is overwhelming although the sun had just gone a bit too low to capture brighter coloring.
Jen on Lizard peak, Lake Havasu City. We liked it so much we climbed it on 3 occasions, incorporating it in other hikes.
Lake Mead National Preserve: Crossing the desert on our 'own trail' toward distant mountains with Davis Dam in background.
As the storm clouds create vast shadows over Lake Havasu, we head down from Lizard Peak.
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A view as we make our way down into the canyon on the Bright Angel Trail.
Cheers,
Jenni and Jeffrey
A remnant in the Petrified Forest...formerly part of a tree trunk, now colored rock.