10.29 Scrambling along the cliffs above Colorado River, beyond Horseshoe Bend, Page

Heading towards back-country, editor stops to look over the side

Some two-and-a-bit miles from the viewing area at Page—making way up to the highest point above the river (over 1,000 feet)

We are fascinated by this area, the home of the Navajo nation. We like Horseshoe Bend and the way the Colorado River winds around the massive rock. There are other aspects that are attractive, too but overall, it has a nice feel— a gateway into Arizona from the north. We thought of hiking into the backcountry, following the river for a while. We did just that in a six-mile trip. When we reached a fence with a gap between the cliff and a ledge, we took it. As there was no warning posting preventing us from entering, we acted literally. The going was slow as we meandered alongside and above the river over the sandstone surface. It was terrific, free climbing and hiking on our own route. We chose to get to the cliff edges or move away when it became impassable or dangerous. All in all, it was interesting as each step was on virgin territory.

Editor well positioned to view the Colorado

Jenni makes her way into sunlight above river

Every so often, we would notice a boat plying its way below us. Although we were quite a distance away, sound bounces off the cliffs resulting in voices carrying from hundreds of yards below and up or down stream. It was tiring but exhilarating. The old man lay down for a ten-minute siesta at the turnaround spot; the photographer took advantage and captured the scene quite naturally, we think. Most times, we sit out in the great open spaces with nobody about, it is particularly refreshing and uplifting to view vast uninhabited areas. Then should we desire company, we find a spot to relieve ourselves and what do you know, someone will arrive. Works much of the time.

'Hey Pancho, don't roll over, fellow. By the way, love your socks. Who chose your colors today?'

Note the boat below, just sailed into the sunlight

We were in our room on our first night in Page, a nice motel, too. Our editor was reading a CIA type novel while we were probably doing something very intelligent. We forget what it was. ‘I think we have a bug,’ she says out aloud. We realize the book is having an effect on her. ‘Who is going to want to eavesdrop on us? You think anyone is interested in what mountain we’re going to climb on the morrow?’ We ask, humoring her as she sounds a little nervous. Perhaps we should suggest that she read something lighter at bedtime. “You don’t understand,’ she replies, ‘I think we have bugs in the bed.’ Just then she smacks the bed with her book and we hear her exclaim, ‘Ugh! Blood splattered on the sheets. I squashed the little bugger and there’s lots more.’ At that stage, she scampered from the bed.

Probably the highest point above the river

Farewell to Page and the Colorado

There we were, at 11:30 at night, moving to a new room after inspecting the bed carefully. Our editor made a good point. ‘Why should the other rooms be clear of bugs?’ Sometimes we hate it when she gets so logical, especially at that time of night. We thought we had done a reasonable job securing a new room, moving all items across and carrying her down the passage over one shoulder and our stock of drinks on the other. The good news is that the new bed appeared clear; one of us slept well while the editor checked for bugs throughout the rest of the night using the flashlight given to us by the Shapiro’s. We doubt whether Shirley has any idea how useful the ‘light became.

A couple of days later, our 'CIA agent' has numerous bites on her body. Wait until we camp outdoors again.

Cheers,

Jenni and Jeffrey

Power generation at the dam and irrigation down river

A view of Glen Canyon Dam

10.33 The San Francisco Mountain Range—Mount Humphreys Peak, Arizona’s highest

8 hours on the mountain for five minutes at the peak—go figure! (Nothing to figure, the feeling lasts forever))

In order to understand the pictures and this missive, we would like to provide some background. Last year, while visiting Flagstaff, we noticed this prominent mountain range, the San Francisco. We were overwhelmed and made plans to come back to attempt a climb of the highest peak, Mount Humphreys, at 12,633 feet. This happens to be the premier mountain in the Grand Canyon State—and people think it only has holes in the ground. In fact, should you look at the licence plate of a Zonie, it features this range. Coincidentally, we mentioned the Utah plate two weeks ago when we were at Delicate Arch.

From Humphreys, looking down on Weatherford

Quite breathtaking being there or looking at picture

Sorry Love, that's not as high as where you're heading

As we approached Flagstaff on our way to Prescott a few days ago,(we still have three blogs of hikes from that city), we looked out for these ‘beauties’. Covered in snow, they looked even better. However, it would hinder our climb. We closed our eyes a little to that point, thinking that we would only be dealing with snow; instead we found the trail covered in ice, black ice, too. Suffice to say, we may not be proud of our behavior, but the climb was superb. Unfortunately, the going was slow because it was the most treacherous path we have ever walked. Down was almost impossible; at times we thought we might be staying overnight. We are most fortunate that we are only showing bruises, sore muscles and a strain or two. We don’t have the technique for ice and were without the correct equipment, too. Yes, we know, once we discovered the ice we should have turned back. The problem is when we turn it is usually 360 degrees.

Various peaks gather around caldera

Our peak, Humphreys, nothing to look at although the highest. Hiker, also nothing to look at, heads towards peak

A treacherous trail, walking on side in snow wherever possible

A little about the hike as it was very special:

Temperature on ground : 32 degrees
At peak: Much colder; our faces froze, with wind thrown in for good measure.
Our butts: Well covered but cold and wet

Distance : 9.6 miles. (Did we say on ice?)
Elevation gain: 3,333 feet reaching 12,633 feet above sea level

Time on Mountain: An embarrassing 8 hours, 3 hours more than a summer hike. We have never been so slow. At our age, it takes a lot of effort to get off our behinds after each fall. Seriously though, it was day of more mental application as each step had to be thought through carefully.

A 'happy boy' about to summit in biting cold

At saddle (below peaks), the snow was thick, no ice thankfully. (Note makeshift hiking poles (branches))

It is and was a splendid hike that we wish to repeat but before snow season. Our editor was not a happy ‘girl’ today. It’s going to take an awful lot of bribery for her to acquiesce.

A special blessing is in order for our safe return to the condo in Sedona. We don’t intend to be dramatic but we try to tell it as it is, in our missives. B’H.

Cheers,

Jenni and Jeffrey

We left so late but picked up a treat as the sun waited for us to get down the mountain

As we rise, we observe the ski slopes of 'Snow Bowl'

A few more from the peak and saddle:

A closing to an incredible day

10.28 Sunset on the Colorado River at Horseshoe Bend, Page, Arizona

Numero Uno

Jenni on the cliffs, getting braver, not necessarily wiser, each day

Colorado River flows around the horseshoe

Monday was a work and travel day. However, when our editor struck gold with an idea to take a hike to a favorite, Horseshoe Bend in Page soon after arrival, we could not resist. A visit to the Colorado River, watching it snake around the horseshoe, is something not to miss. Add in the steep cliffs, distant mountains and a sunset to follow, how can one resist that atmosphere. Besides, it's not a good idea to cross our dear editor, particularly when we are hungry and she has yet to prepare dinner.

'Brass monkey' on golden wall, the time, position and place are outstanding

Sun brings out gold in 'dem' rocks, a golden opportunity

We normally arrive via Highway 89, crossing the bridge at Glen Canyon Dam and then proceeding directly into town. No problem for us as we have a particular ‘soft’ spot for Page. This time we arrived on Highway 98; notice the reversal of the figures. We became confused. It is not a good thing to be, that is, confused. However, as it is normal for us (confusion), it shows consistency and therefore is, in fact, positive. Whatever the merits of this twisted logic, nevertheless, it makes it darn difficult to find the way to our destinations. In the end, experience came through and we found both the motel and the Colorado River although not necessarily in that order. The river can be tricky to spot as it sits below the land surface, deep in the canyons that it’s reputed to have created. That’s a story for another day.

A protruding rock catches last light

Jenni tries a little sunshine at height

Multi-colors at sundown

We also took time to visit the Glen Canyon Dam, another amazing piece of engineering. When man does positive things, it is in the realm of miraculous. However, it seems that we humans enjoy the negative…such a pity.

Each day, we have the potential to witness a miracle at both sunrise and sunset wherever in the world we are. We are tending to try and view as many of these phenomena as can fit into our schedule. We only publish a few pictures, sometimes one-in-fifteen that we snap, but we think the few that are displayed herein, make the point.

Welcome to the land of the Great Navajo Nation, not forgetting our good friend, Chief Chutz-Pah or Chutzy, for short. It was in this town that we met Chutzy, some years ago.

Cheers,

Jenni and Jeffrey

The brightness just before twilight

Rocking on the Colorado River

Jenni captures the time

Mountains in distance catch the last light, too

10.27 Mesa Arch and journey to Blanding, UT

Looking from Mesa Arch into the canyon, a personal favorite—it 'don't' get better, pardner

After the challenging Gooseberry hike, we set off to cross the Mesa Arch. We found this bridge about three years before—we liked it. This time our editor, who hung back on the last occasion, took it in her stride. On the one side, the fall is twenty feet onto hard rock. However, on the other side of the arch, the drop is a little more, a further 1,500 feet to the canyon floor. By that time, whether the floor is hard rock or soft sand, it is academic to one’s health.

My angel crosses Mesa Arch, a bridge to nowhwere but personal growth

A view through the arch

The view from the bridge into the canyon is spectacular. The photographs, we think, attest to this.

The La Salle Mountain Range

Sunset on Highway 191

We left Canyonlands for Blanding after spending four nights in Moab. This park is about thirty-five miles from Moab which in turn is five miles from Arches. Unfortunately, the time arrived to leave Utah, a man and his wife. However, a little part of us remains in this great state as well as our other nine wives. The drive to Blanding and then towards Four Corners, entering Arizona and on towards Page is another treat—it’s as though a person has not left a beautiful national park.

The La Salle Mountain Range, a another reason to return

Won't say what he was doing immediately before this position. Farewell to Canyonlands (the small part we visited), a spectacular place

One more peek before hitting the road at a place of rugged beauty, form and color


Cheers,

Jenni and Jeffrey

10.19 In Hoodoo land once more, after the rain, during the cold and as the snow commences

Scene from hike; distant mountains provide clue of impending storm

Red, white and blue—a different perspective

Bryce discovers a new hoodoo (in green, lower right), somewhat smoother but perhaps a little less intelligent than average.

Priest or Rabbi, couldn't tell, tries to maintain interest. What's new?

We have moved around a little but extended our stays at least on four occasions, reduced them twice. We checked in at Ruby’s Inn in Bryce for three nights and extended for a further three. One of the motivating factors is that our room has both hot and cold running water. This is quite a luxury and got us very excited. We said to our editor that because hot water is available only for odd hours should not distract her. Sometimes she is inclined to be a little spoilt. Nevertheless, we married her knowing that she is accustomed to a hot bath (thank Heaven)—we cannot complain.

Characters bask in sun, not for long, though. They have no idea what's in store.

Sunday morning, after two nights of snow

If we are to complain about life on the road this would be a very short note. Therefore, we had to think very hard. Our editor does not like us to look at pretty women, something we don’t like to do either. However, while we search for plain women, this she does not mind, how can we tell if a woman is plain or pretty until we have observed her. Also, much revolves around taste. Maybe, all the women we see we perceive as plain whereas she thinks they are attractive. This gets us into much trouble. We don’t know the answer. Should we catch her looking at another man, we’ll go in search of a bear to chase her. We dislike a hypocrite intensely.

Besides, when do we get a chance to gaze at women. We are always busy searching for bears, snakes, mountain lions, baboons, dogs, wolves, ice, black ice, the trail, cold winds, cliff edges, lightning and thunder, gorgeous scenery, OU symbols, rain, lunch, a place to relieve ourselves and that’s just to begin. Who has the time for anything else?

After the hike, what we missed live, thankfully

Another set of 'lovable' guys

We have developed a peeve on the road. Before, we had nothing against crows. In fact, some of our best friends were crows—that doesn’t sound quite right. Moving on, when we’re on the trail, usually on the way down and back to the car, we ask the editor how far to go. “Two miles,” our editor says, for example, “as the crow flies.” That’s when we get angry. We are not crows—tell that to the birds we always say. We find the distance is always twice that they fly. We get so envious of crows that we believe therein lies our dislike for them.

Other than that, we count our blessings with much gratitude.

Cold editor on canyon floor

We left Bryce, after 6 wonderful days. The first four were mild and sunny, for the last two it rained followed by a heavy snow. The contrasts, which the pictures will illustrate, are amazing. Although we are not fond of being in snow, it makes for wonderful viewing. Another aspect that was remarkable is that within the period, we experienced both summer and winter conditions—three hikes were in short sleeves. Normally, one would have to make two separate trips to enjoy the contrasts although in Bryce, snow can fall in summer.

This bunch is really tight

On Friday, we spent the morning working while keeping an eye on the rain. When it stopped for ten minutes, we headed out for our final hike. We did not have the time for the Riggs trail we intended following so we remained with the Peekaboo and offshoot again. The weather created a different atmosphere, particularly the cloud formations compared with cloudless earlier days. Unfortunately, the path felt like clay and our boots accumulated the soil making it a bit of a challenge. When we returned for Shabbat, we were invigorated again after squeezing in a fast but very beautiful 5 miles with plenty of elevation gains, at least 1,500 feet. By going down into the amphitheatre, one is able to see the hoodoos close up—a little imagination and they appear to take on forms that are familiar.

Cheers,

Jenni and Jeffrey

Not so much a smile as a frozen face

A view through the gap, the clouds dissipate for a few minutes

The last sunshine we saw at Bryce...maybe ever

"Cheers, Bryce"