52.04 Nevada: Kraft Mountain and rock scrambling outside Red Rock Park.

"Excuse me? I'm not coming back to collect you. You're a big girl. Follow the rocks."
Behind Jenni (left corner), within the park, is Turtle Head...(not Jenni). See below.
This was a first visit to Kraft Mountain despite a number of previous hikes undertaken in the enclosed Red Rock Park, which lies behind the mountain. In fact, we are obviously so observant that we never noticed it although it's in walking distance of the park boundary. (Anyone require advice or directions from us?) Turtle Head Peak, viewed from our trail and the rocks climbed, shares one side of its face with this section of the greater Red Rock district, while the other side can only be viewed from the national park itself. Frankly, we'll return, probably without General MacArthur though, for it's a wonderful place. 

It's a delight for anyone wishing to climb, scramble and try new moves on the rocks and boulders. Combined with startling formations and exquisite coloring, including stripes on these massive boulders, one has all the ingredients for a challenging, strenuous and most fulfilling experience. It also helps to hone one's climbing and balancing skills. It's a 'rocker's' paradise.   

Turtle Head, um, is where Jen stands, some 2,000 feet above ground level (Circ 2018). (See picture above.)
Delightful environment.
She agrees to join me finally.
Perched on one of the hundreds of great rocks. "How dem stripe stones, Tex?"
and more, which are great to climb upon. A kid's delight.
I can't recall when we last had so much enjoyment on the rocks. Oh, yes. The day before.
Further perspective of the 'turtle'.
"Don't turn your back on me."
Taking the gap as well as the rocks.
Looking bewildered. Where to from here?
  The day before, we had walked from outside the park toward Calico Hills, where we stood observing the colorful boulders. Then we heard a dumb sounding accent and said 'hello' to a fellow from Ohio, now living in Las Vegas who of course was from the old country. What a 'squeeky' accent. Do we sound like that? Anyway, it's very seldom one meets a South African on a trail, even in the home country, in our experience. They probably prefer to play rugby, eat boerewors and biltong, and drive around in a Chevrolet. (Bit of a local thing). 

  The next day, on Kraft Mountain, we had just come over a crest and said hello to a woman coming from the opposite direction. Her initial comment was, which seemed out of context, "There's a South African coming up behind me." Lo and behold, we met John following his wife, Cheryl—an interesting couple. She's American but recognized our accents immediately for obvious reasons. John is from the Transkei and has an accent that is cultured, upper-class English but not 'effected'. It's embarrassing to mention that we spent forty minutes conversing instead of hiking. Two South Africans on consecutive days on two different tracks...unusual. 

Cheers, 

Jenni and Jeffrey

52.03 Nevada: Lake Mead from Hamblin Peak. Shapes, sizes, textures and colors including gusts of wind on the ridges and peaks.

Rugged, rough but it has its own beauty.
In the meantime, Jenni crosses a ridge in gusting winds. On two occasions, we both felt we might take-off. Fortunately, 'ground control' prevented us.
This is one of our favorite hikes in Nevada. During 6-7 outings, we've only come across one person on the peak where we ate brunch and spotted another in the distance on a secondary peak. The probable reason for this is that it's not a formal trail, not published. However, it's a good enough path to find a way to the peak, often coming across bighorn sheep along the way. It's rugged with a variation of climbs, loose gravel and stones but always fantastic views with a feeling of being in a special place. The pictures should vouch for our frequent comments that colors and shapes, including mountains, in these deserts are spectacular. 

The night before, we spent time visiting special friends in Las Vegas and enjoying a delicious home-cooked meal. We enjoyed the evening so much that we invited ourselves back for tea and scones the following Sunday. We have referred to this charming 'feet-on-the-ground' couple in the past, Gill and Clive Midgen. Clive is the wise-guy who is still trying to fathom why Denny's Restaurants have locks on their doors despite being open 24-hours per day. 

Anyway, Clive and I were talking of the weather (we had run out of intelligent conversation—it happens frequently when Clive and I are together—so we turned to a discussion of the dangers of high winds on mountains.) The following day, we experienced dangerous gusts on the top ridge that were frightening. I was pleased I remained in the car after what Jenni told me she experienced at the top. I don't want to promote tension between us and the Midgen's, but I have to wonder whether Clive had any influence in causing those gusts as it was he who specifically brought up the subject. 

What do they say? You should know whom your friends are. (Nonsense aside, they are a special couple whom we met 33 years ago in Dallas.) 

Jen on the way down from the peak.
As she continues, the views are stunning...but that's our opinion.
They call these 'pour-overs'. The region has many of these forming part of the washes enabling water to flow over...(as if water needs assistance).
Should you make the 2,000 feet climb to the peak, other parts of Lake Mead come into view. One can see the effect of the wind on the water.
A calm day.
Love the formations and colors...and the gal's not too bad either. (Comment could prove to be an expensive mistake).
Lake Mead, a tiny section viewed from Hamblin Peak.
Lone rock.
The lake viewed over the lower ridge in front of us.
Limitless colorful and mountainous desert.

Cheers, 

Jenni and Jeffrey 

One, maybe two, for the road.

The reality of the track.

A peek into Iceland--a little nostalgia.

An "Ice-desert".

Peak of Mount Sulur, 3,200 feet.
The drought is over.

Godafoss.
Cheers, 

Jenni and Jeffrey

50.52 Salt Lake City, Utah. Mount Wire from the Zoological Gardens trailhead. 50.53 Mount Wire from Pioneer Park trailhead.

Catching a glimpse of Salt Lake from below the peak.
Hazy and far but gives some perspective.
The views, aided with fall colors, were terrific.
The slants were more acute than much of the offerings from the media these days.

Always have the eye on the ball or better still, the snake.
There were no clear markings for Mount Wire that we could discern so we took the wrong path in the beginning. Some things never change. While consistency is a usually good discipline, not in this case.
This is not the easy route. Note on the 'horizon', people hiking upwards or perpendicular to us: That's the direct route. In addition, the extra ups-and downs, we had to descend to the creek below and ascend on the other side. As we often console ourselves with these words: Ultimately, we are the beneficiaries of the additional efforts required. Of course, you can have too much of a good thing.
Where to now?
Got a little crowded...not any people though.
Decided to give the Capitol a miss—not too fond of politicians—love the architecture though.

Part 2: A different approach, from Pioneer Park. 

Coming down the wire. Funny how the feeling changes when there's nothing immediately below one.
A view from the top; Salt Lake in the distance.
Still enjoying the color of the land.
Some snow on that occasion as we approach 'The Wire'.
Solid snow covering further up.
A final 'slant' of the city.
Cheers, 

Jenni and Jeffrey