Agua Caliente County Park, Anza-Borrego, CA

Last weekend I joined a group camping out in Agua Caliente County Park, just outside of Julian in southern California. While driving through Ramona in the late afternoon,  I spotted this windmill and turned the car around, grabbed my camera and started snapping pictures.

This gorgeous oak tree stood out against the gray, cloudy sky, while the grass glowed in the incandescent sunlight. I wanted to stay overnight, under the tree, wrapped in a blanket.

One morning Orville, Bill, Sue and I went on an early morning hike up into the hills to watch the sun rise. Bill is the man in red, climbing up the rocky hillside through ocotillo bushes.

 

That would be me, looking out at the sun rising, loving life early in the morning.  Before we took off hiking, Bill made me a cup of real coffee; an amazing feat considering it was 5am and still dark.

 

Sun lighting up the sky, mountain, agave and spindly ocotillo bush. In a couple of weeks the long sticky branches will be topped with fiery red blooms.

 Sue standing in the morning light. This woman is incredible and camps and hikes all around the world by herself; definitely a gal after my own heart.

 Early morning view from our campsite in Agua Caliente County Park in Julian.

Orville and Bill, enjoying the early morning.

One morning we took a drive out to the mud caves. Craig is standing in the entrance to one of the caves. I thought he was joking when he said we were going in there. I would never have guessed that a cave was in that narrow cleft in the cliff.

Dave is the mastermind behind the whole mud caves thing. I couldn't find them again if you paid me a million bucks. He drove us down strange dirt roads, making quick turns down other strange dirt roads, passed a street sign for Hollywood and Vine and eventually came to a stop. I learned my lesson from the last trip and told them I was not going to drive, but would drive in the Jeep with the boss.

Big, bad Bart; no just kidding. He is actually a very nice guy, retired Marine, always wears shorts, tackles all the hard stuff and yet definitely has a soft heart.

Inside the mud cave it was all dark and spooky. Towards the back of the cave, light came through a large hole in the ceiling let  and illuminated the swirling sandstone.

Whenever I see such crazy, amazing beauty in the natural world, I thank God for all that He has made. He is totally and wonderfully awesome.

 

The little girl in front is Victoria, a sweet darling who proudly states that she is five and a half. She was such a good little hiker and never complained. Every once in a while she would hold out her hand and say I need help, and whoever was nearby would help her up or down whatever rock she was climbing. Such a joy, such a sweetheart.

Dave in a moment of quiet contemplation; is he thinking when will we ever get out of here? or why did I eat all that spicy chili last night?

Michelle's beautiful daughter, walking into the light; keep going girlfriend!

The caves turned into a twisted canyon which eventually led us back to the surface. The desert has such an ethereal beauty that can only be grasped by being there. Wish you could have been there!

Me, Victoria, Tanya and Dave, a little blurry but we are there! When I asked Bart if he could take our picture, he reassured me he had taken many pictures; he just didn't say how they came out.......hmmm.

The mud eye monster; a prehistoric creature that lives in mud caves and was caught in a storm and will forever be embedded into the walls of this cave. Poor little guy.

Here is Orville, a mighty man of God. Thank you Orville for organizing such a wonderful trip! It was a blast; at times a little hot, sometimes very windy, but all in all good fun, food and fellowship.

  "Praise the Lord! For it is good to sing praises to our God; For it is pleasant, and praise is beautiful." Psalm 147:1

 Here is Michelle, a gal that everybody loves.  Somehow she always ends up with a big rock in her backpack which makes her pack so heavy.  Looks like she learned her lesson this time and didn't bring a backpack. Good job, Michelle!

Stunning view as we drove through the desert after our walk in the mud.  

This would be Holly, a dear, sweet gal that I sincerely enjoyed meeting.

Here is Victoria, the girl who captured all of our hearts. Tanya, you have done such a wonderful job raising this beautiful, darling girl. May God be with you, dear sister.

 

 Sitting around the campfire, shooting the breeze; Bill was always cooking up some amazing thing over the open fire; bacon wrapped biscuits, beef kabobs and kept talking about marshmallows but I never saw any. Everyone promised me S'mores, but I never got one. Next time I will take matters into my own hands and bring marshmallows, graham crackers and chocolate.  

On my way home, I stopped in Box Canyon and hiked around a bit taking pictures.

Its getting late and I must go. Good night, one and all.

You are loved. You are special. Believe it. Receive it.

Sheep Canyon, Anza Borrego State Park, CA

Last weekend I joined a group from Calvary Chapel and went camping up in Anza Borrego State Park in southern California. The park takes its name from the 18th century explorer Juan Bautista de Anza, and the word borrego is the Spanish name for bighorn sheep, which still thrive in the park. After driving up a steep mountain road, we pulled over to catch a glimpse of the vast expanse of desert landscape.

We stopped at the Galleta Meadows Estates where artist Ricardo Breceda has created more than 130 metal sculptures and planted them in the desert sand. This particular section portrays workers in a vineyard, complete with grape vines, baskets of grapes, cowboys and what not. That would be me with the tin man!

The Estate is owned by Denis Avery and he continues to add more and more sculptures to his desert garden; gigantic insects, people, dinosaurs. It's downright crazy!

To get to our first camp we had to drive up a treacherous dirt road for six miles. I nearly died. My little Subaru climbed over rocks, crossed streams and trudged up the mountain while I prayed that her guts wouldn't be yanked out by some random boulder. Our reward was camping next to a beautiful stream in the middle of the desert. It was awesome and wonderfully quiet as we sat by the fire and listened to the water and talked til we couldn't talk any more.

 

In the morning we loaded all of our gear onto Dave's jeep and started walking along the creek through green tamarisk trees and cool shade.

"When the poor and needy seek water, and there is none, and their tongues fail for thirst, I, the Lord, will hear them; I the God of Israel will not forsake them." Isaiah 41:17 

As soon as we hit the Sheep Canyon Trail, I stayed towards the back of our group and kept my eyes open for unusual things.

The trail was very hot and dry, even though it was winter. I kept longing for our little campsite by the creek, but instead I was out in the hot sun, fighting a migraine and doing my best to keep a good attitude.

The trail went from sandy to rocky rather quickly as we picked our way up the mountain through a pile of rocks.

Wendy took my picture in front of this spindly Ocotillo. In a few months, these plants will be alive with fiery red blooms but now they just looked like a bunch of sticks. Bill spotted one plant that had two blooms, so I guess that is a sign that spring is on the way.

I always find beauty in strangely shaped dead trees. I kept falling behind as I found interesting things to look at, then had to run in the sand to catch up with the group.

Spiky agave, hardy desert souls that manage to survive out in the intense heat and cold.

If you look closely you can see the little animal tracks embedded in the dry mud. I am not sure what made them, maybe a bobcat?

Bill and me standing by the fire, enjoying a cup of coffee as the sun is setting.

Dave and Wendy in the camp kitchen.

We were fortunate to find this funky camp stove at our campsite. We lit a beautiful fire that lasted throughout the evening. I set up my tiny tent in the background, and chose to leave the rainfly off so I could see the stars...fun at first until about 3am when I began to regret my decision as I scrambled for any available piece of clothing to cover my freezing body. 

Ken, Steve, Michelle, Craig and Bill enjoying our chips and salsa before dinner. Craig, the guy standing with the hat, and Dave the guy below, were our fearless leaders for the trip.

Dave and his kitchen; all the modern conveniences out in the middle of the desert. Better than the Ritz! Thank you Dave for cooking up such great meals and doing such an excellent job!

Some of the group; a fun loving bunch who love to laugh.

Gorgeous rugged beauty...

By the time we hiked back to our cars, I was ready for a shower and comfortable bed, but then I realized I had to do the Indiana Jones thing again and shuddered. Lucky for me I followed Craig down that awful dirt road and was able to avoid some of the rough spots. Wendy came in my car and talked me through the panic as I drove through the water, encouraging me through each scary spot. So much for my desert adventure. I am glad to be home, safe and sound with my blue fish.

Zion National Park, Utah

That would be me, drinking coffee in front of Zion National Park Lodge. For two weeks I stayed in Zion, not at the Lodge but in a nice campsite right on the Virgin River.

Every day five deer roamed through the campground. It is always a joy for me to see any kind of wildlife; it never gets old. This little guy sat down to rest while the rest of the rest of the deer browsed on leaves and grass.

Each morning I sat right here, looking out at the river and drinking my Starbucks Via. A gal could get used to something like this. Whenever I am at home my heart longs for the sound of the river tumbling over the rocks and before long I have packed my gear and am back on the road looking for water.

One of the prettiest walks in Zion National Park is the Pairus Trail; a nearly 4 mile round trip hike that begins in the campground and goes up to Canyon Junction and back again. The best time to take the hike is after dinner just as the sun is setting. The mountains literally glow with the last rays of sunshine. One night I took the hike and it was dark by the time I got to the junction; a little spooky but very cool at the same time.  Instead of walking back on the trail, I hopped the shuttle that took me back to camp.

One afternoon while out on the Pairus, I encountered my German neighbors who very obligingly took my picture. The cool air, red cliffs, open landscapes and dramatic scenery all made me very happy as you can see.

I love cloudy days, probably because I am melancholic by nature. Everything looks so exciting to me with grey, white and black clouds in the sky.

"In every walk with nature one receives far more than he seeks." John Muir I do agree with Mr. Muir. Every time I am out walking in the natural world, my heart is uplifted, my spirit is cleansed and I always feel better.

Camping by myself can get lonely. I usually try to talk to people and once in a while go on hikes with fellow campers. I met all kinds of people on this trip; a young rock climber from Joshua Tree, a middle aged Hispanic man who loved to gamble, an older couple who treasured the quiet, lots of people from Germany and one slightly eccentric rock collector who had to show me hundreds of rocks in the back of his truck and tell me where he got each one. My most memorable encounter was after I climbed out of the Left Fork of the Virgin and was completely exhausted, hot and sweaty. I was pouring water over my head and leaning up against my car when an old biker with white hair and a black leather do-rag came over and talked to me. He told me about recently losing his wife to a lung disease, the pain of living alone and his bad legs that just don't work at times. I felt compelled to pray for him, so I asked him and he was delighted. It was a precious moment, sitting on a rock overlooking the canyon and praying for this LDS biker. After we prayed he was so happy. That made me happy.

This was my first sign of autumn in the Park; colorful maple leaves intermingling with greenery. Fall is my favorite time of year and Zion in the Fall is outrageous. Of course thousands of other people feel the same way, so to avoid the crowds, I often took the road less traveled into places hardly anyone visits.

That would be me sitting under the spray of water at Weeping Rock.

At Weeping Rock, ancient water constantly seeps from the sandstone and forms a spray of waterfall dripping over the cliff. Lush hanging gardens thrive on the cliffs and in the spring bloom with living color.

One of my hideaways.....a beautiful side canyon with undulating sandstone walls. For hours I explored every nook and cranny of the canyon, searching out the animal tracks and small pools of water. Never saw one person...very cool and yes I do carry pepper spray and a knife but would probably spray myself and cut off my finger if it came down to it.

"As for me, I will call upon God, and the Lord shall save me. Evening and morning and at noon I will pray, and cry aloud, and He shall hear my voice." Psalm 55:16-17 Whenever I get out in the wild places, my heart is immediately drawn to the Lord. I cry out to Him just as David did in this Psalm from the Bible. The Lord always hears my cries and blesses me with His presence.

I am fascinated with color, shape and texture. Taking a walk through these little side canyons satisfies my tactile needs. I run my fingers through the grainy sand, caress the ridges and cracks in the rocks and pick up sticks and leaves just to feel them in my hands. I must admit sometimes I hug trees. Weird, but it gives me strength.

I live near the coast and don't often see color like this. We do have some colored trees, but to find them wild and ungroomed is so much more fun. Wilderness has its own kind of untethered beauty that plays my heartstrings like nothing else can.

A side canyon I happened upon....what an incredible place.

Sweet scent of pine still lingers in my memory.....a tender emotion that softens my rough places.

A riotous explosion of color; could almost hear the leaves dancing.  

One day I got it in my head that I would hike down to the Left Fork of the Virgin River. I actually did this hike once, but came up this trail after a nine mile hike from Wildcat Canyon through the Subway. I knew I couldn't go up the canyon to the Subway without a permit, so I just thought I would hike down and swim in the river. In order to even get to the trail, I had to hike about a mile out to the edge of the cliffs, a beautiful walk through pine, shrubs and red rock cliffs.

Did get a little nervous when I saw this sign; it seemed so portentous, as if it were giving me a warning of some kind.

I started down the rugged trail, a path that led straight down the side of the cliff. Never saw a soul. The trail rapidly turned into no trail, just a massive landslide. I sat down and contemplated my future. I finally decided it was a good day to die and kept going, slipping and sliding on my butt, across the landslide and down the mountain. After a bit I panicked and sat down to eat my lunch. Suddenly four young adults came skipping down the landslide trail like it was nothing. I watched them go down the mountain and  knew it was possible for me to make it. It wasn't long before I was down the mountain, hot and sweaty but alive and well.

There is no trail once you get down into the canyon, so I just jumped the rocks and headed up the river.

I found some very cool little water falls and swimming holes and promptly jumped in the water. The air was so warm that I dried off rather quickly.

A few hikers passed by me, on their way up to the Subway; an amazing tubular tunnel that reflects the light like an abalone.

When I looked up at this mountain and realized I had climbed way down here, I was  totally amazed.  Everything was great until I realized I had to climb all the way back up again.

Jumped back in the swimming hole for one last swim with the fishes before heading up the long, grueling trail.

Quintessential Zion; my home away from home.

 Light illuminating the mountaintops.

The East Side of Zion National Park is a great place to get off the road and hike away from the crowds. I always find peace and solace in the quiet places.

One red tree in the midst of tall green pines; she is different than all the other trees and actually likes being red and losing her leaves each fall. She is not afraid to be naked as she knows spring will soon clothe her in the finest garment of fresh, green leaves. Oh, to be a tree.

I found a small pool at the end of this sandy trail in some out of the way side canyon. Bighorn Sheep prints were everywhere, obviously using this as a watering hole and a safe place to rest.

I found this reflection in Echo Canyon; a passing moment of ephemeral beauty.

Red sandstone weathering away into gorgeous shapes with deep color and intriguing patterns. Hope that happens to me when I get old. But as I was recently reminded by the Passafiume family, "Its not the years...it's the mileage." Indiana Jones

On my last evening in Zion, I hopped on the shuttle and road to the end of the canyon to walk along the river. The lighting was just perfect as I wandered along the river, soaking in every bit of red sandstone, lofty cliffs, warbling river water and setting sun. Until we meet again......