Land of a Thousand(ish) Icy Stream Crossings

A Douglas fir cone! In the bottom of the wash. Even though the canyon here at the mouth is full of sagebrush, willow, and cottonwoods. Anticipation heightens. Doug fir can only grow in the coolest, wettest of places in southeastern Utah. A relic of the past. Not like on the west coast where it is everywhere. Is there a grove of douglas fir higher up? Was this cone carried down the canyon in a flood? Will we find where they are hiding?

Low down where the cottonwoods and junipers grow.

One of the reasons I’d suggested this canyon for our backpacking trip this weekend is because I’d read there was ponderosa way up the canyon. And anyone who knows me knows how much I adore the puzzle-shaped bark and vanilla-scent, the soft needles. But I hadn’t thought there might be doug fir too. How neat! Oh what critical pieces of information are left out of most trip reports and guidebooks!

The stream is partially frozen over. Ice bridges. Sometimes just thin ice on top, not enough to support a person. It’s never clear how thick until you feel the ice crack and the cold bite on your toes. No other footprints before us. Just gotta go for it. For a thousand water crossings. Well, not really but who’s counting? Certainly not us.

Bridge or thin ice?

Icy hop scotch.

Around the bend, a sunny, sandy bank! In contrast to the ice, it’s warm enough to lay out like lizards. Packs become pillows. I sink into the sand and bask in the surprisingly warm afternoon glow of the late-January sun. The babbling of the stream chasing away all thoughts. My body relaxes for what seems like the first time in the weeks since the government shutdown began. For a moment, I’ve forgotten to feel stressed about the two paychecks I’ve missed (and will never get because I won’t get backpay) and how my savings are slipping away.

Also in a sunny alcove, that which is left behind by the ancient ones.

Finally the sun dips behind the cliff wall. The temperature plummets instantly. Time to move.

I love this contrast between the warmth and the ice. How quickly it all changes.

Douglas fir cones.

The douglas fur and ponderosa appear! So good to be among them. Tucked away in the quiet canyon. I think about how this moment is just a blimp in the span of time. How many years have these big old trees seen?

Land of ponderosa.

Towering.

Getting water at camp right at sunset.

The next day, leaving the canyon, the budding willows shine in the sunlight. Change is inevitable.

Hope.