The Leaning Hydro Towers of Hoover Dam

In an earlier post regarding those ubiquitous electric towers I made mention about the pylons sticking nearly horizontally out of the cliff face above the Colorado just below Hoover Dam.  It turns out I do have a picture of them available, and a rather nice one of part of the dam itself.

I kept looking at the things thinking they would fall over.  In some ways, I find them every bit the engineering marvel that the dam itself is.  I imagine that they could have easily been anchored more securely standing straight up, as the Niagara pylons are at both the Canadian and American power stations, but maybe here we just had an engineer adding one more extreme to an already dramatic place.  

A Tiny River

Sick as a dog here yet today, but still trying to live up to promises of a post every other day.  How about just a picture for now, of the small Colorado river just miles downstream of where it begins its journey.  A lovely mountain meadow, and a friend.

Sadly, those grey forests you see on the far slopes are decaying.  No one entirely knows why, but field biologists working for the USDA are saying that insects that were once contained at lower elevations because of temperatures being inhospitable higher up are now migrating to higher elevations and attacking the spruces and firs that do not have adequate defenses for themselves.  Even then, beetle metabolisms have shot through the roof, and they are attacking immature and mature healthy trees rather than seedlings or old and diseased specimens.  Things change in nature, things die, but it sure is a sad sight to see entire ecosystems take a bullet like this.

If you have a chance to get to the Rockies, by all means, do it now.  Things might look very different even 10 years down the line.

Traffic and a Water Rant.

Traffic, as you can see, can happen just about anywhere.  In this case, it happens about 90 miles away from anything remotely resembling gridlock, and is a wonderful reminder that while highway maintenance is necessary, it is very poorly timed, and places far too much emphasis on driving competence that most people do not just have.   I'm looking at you, person who likes to merge after the sign told you to!

Such a lovely scene utterly disgraced by the supposed miracle of the internal combustion engine.  For those wondering, this is along interstate 70 in Colorado, westbound, about 90 miles away from Grand Junction.  The canyon, called Glenwood Canyon, is among the many vistas one can pass by in the boring, sheltered world of a car along the interstate.  The Colorado River has cut and flows through the canyon, at this stage taking on its familiar brown, wild appearance.

Granted, it still has to drop over 5,000 feet and course through two major deserts before it can find its way to the sea.  Hopefully.  For much of the last 20 years, it has made it within miles of the Gulf of California only to sink into the hot sand, the sad little trickle unable to cope with being drained so excessively for desert farms.  If you are not upset that the south western states want to divert the Great Lakes to them, drive on interstate 10 between Tucson and Phoenix, and then kindly write the USDA to take a lesson from Israel in the importance of drip irrigation.  Grow those oranges in California and Florida, grow those apples in Michigan, and trust me, wheat grows just fine in the Dakotas without an extended growing season.  

Anyway, enough about my water raving, Glenwood canyon is a lovely little stretch of land, whether you drive or take the train.  

Arizona Strip Country: Vermilion Cliffs National Monument

One of the lesser known national monuments, the Vermilion Cliffs, is easily one of the most surprising ones.  In taking a jaunt through the Arizona Strip back in June, I had planned to at least give a passing visit to as many NPS sites as I could handle (which, trust me, even for a passport stamp fanatic like me, is a very bad idea).  I had done some research on what sites were in the area, such as Pipe Spring National Monument, and noticed a few others, such as the cliffs, were significantly large and filled up that usual nice green map shading that attracts your blogger here as if it were the ultimate candle and I was a moth.

I had made the assumption that such cliffs would easily stand out, that a visitor center would be clearly marked, and that signs a plenty would direct me to the scenic areas otherwise.  Well, it turns out that is one of those more annoying national park sites that are under the jurisdiction of the Bureau of Land Management.  Now, some places, like Grand Staircase-Escalante National Monument, have lovely visitor centers and enthusiastic staff that are all about having silly travelers like me go all "park fan" on them, but for the most part, the BLM is more concerned with making sure land gets used properly than with making sure people can enjoy themselves, get connected with nature, and learn things.  That said, it turns out that they did have a visitor center at Navajo Bridge, the last crossing over the Colorado river that one can drive on before it cuts the vast canyons of the Grand Canyon further downstream.  Silly me, I was less concerned with stopping and enjoying the view than I was with getting on to more monuments.  

I at least afforded myself enough time to stop on the new bridge and take a shot of the river.  This is a downstream view of the Colorado river, not too far away from which the Grand Canyon has its relatively humble beginnings.  Though you see cliffs off in the left horizon, and the Vermilions are off to the right outside of this image, the land immediately around the top of the canyon walls are quite flat; as one drives toward the bridge from the west along US 89, the canyon can be seen nearby as a shadow in the otherwise barren and flat land.  The river is 500 feet below the bridge.  The soil and rock is extremely red.  The land is trodden by few people.  I have to say, I want to come back here some day, and perhaps my greatest travel regret ever is passing through here so quickly.  Maybe I was so much in awe of creation still, after having been to the North Rim of the Grand Canyon only an hour or so prior, but Marble Canyon and the Vermilion Cliffs enthralled me, put me in an extreme state of relaxation, and made me not want to go.  Yet, on I went, almost without a second thought until I was near Flagstaff.  Maybe I was nature drunk.

Anyway, how about the actual cliffs, you know, the point of this post?  Well, let's go see those in just a minute.  For now, as a reference point, this is where we are talking about:

The cliffs themselves are the yellow... banana looking circle I put there.  The orange dot next to them is the Navajo Bridge.  The Arizona Strip is so named, as you can see, because it is cut off from the rest of the state by the gap of the Grand Canyon.  In many ways, it feels like it is isolated from the rest of the continent.  But enough of my pseudo-mystical ramblings, you came for the pictures!

Now, as you can see, at first I did not think much of them.  Yes, those are awesome looking cliffs, and but I had seen taller ones, was still in something of a nature daze, and was mindlessly making my way to "the next stop".  Yeah, you know what, I think I will blame all this on just being out of it at the time.  Anyway, the skies had opened up not ten minutes before getting here, and let me tell you, this is one of those places that rain improves a whole heck of a lot.  The cliffs literally started running water, mud, and even small rocks like mad, and the colors burst out them.  Now, that picture is blurry because I did not think to slow down for a better shot,  but those boulders captured my attention.  A few miles later, I realized where I was, probably because the cliffs got closer and a bit more colorful.

Still, even though I was excited to see yet another place on the map come alive, I was more concerned with destinations than the journey (I promise to stop complaining about this soon), and I had seen cliffs like this before.  The talus piles at the bottom of the cliffs, for example, reminded me of the Book Cliffs near Grand Junction, Colorado, the very first part of the dramatic dry and sculpted west that I had come across back in 2008.  At that point, as if God was mad at me for not being impressed with his work, I came across one of the most beautiful things I have ever seen in my life.  You may disagree, but you were also not there, and trust me, the camera just not do it justice.  

These are the Vermilion Cliffs.  I am told that on the Paria plateau above the rim of the cliffs are some of the most amazing rock formations anywhere on the planet, including The Wave (check out some pictures in the link provided).  Of course, when I come back here (not an if), I plan to explore the area on foot.  Still, I can imagine that at that time, as when I was here before, I will just want to stare at these marvelous red walls as if they were some sort of a natural holy icon.  Now for me, much like a religious icon, these cliffs, even in these pictures, serve to empty out the mind and calm the spirit so that it may listen.  Maybe I was not ready to receive what such a meditative experience might have to offer, and so I rushed.  I don't know.  I plan to return to find out.  

Sadly, I had another camera card with pictures of the washes bursting with RED water in them.  I do not know where I put it, but I will certainly make a second post of this place when I do find it.