A Snapshot and The Scoop: Alluvial Fans

Turkey Flats, located in Joshua Tree National Park, is a prime example of the formation of alluvial fans that occur down slopes of mountains. Comprised of sediments such as gravel, sand, rock, alluvial fans form when those sediments are washed down mountainsides then spread out once they hit the base of the mountain, filling the basin with soil that once covered summits and slopes. Broad and fan shaped, alluvium is typically deposited at the mouth of canyons. The finer-grained particles spread out farther from the mountain and can hold water better than the coarser sediment, supporting plant life such as creosote bush and bunch grass, while cacti cling to the bare slopes above.

A Snapshot and The Scoop: A Desert Shrub

Swollen with water from winter storms, the ocotillo sprouts its waxy little leaves all over the many arms of its branches and attracts insects to its engorged, cracked, woody stems. Resembling a bunch of thorny dead sticks reaching toward the baking desert sun for most of the year, the ocotillo bursts into leaf and flower during the rainy season in the Sonoran Desert. Technically considered a shrub, the ocotillo can easily be mistaken for a cactus when it doesn't have its leaves or flowers thanks to the sharp spines that cover every inch of its multiple arms. It's during the wettest seasons of the year that its true colors shine, and what an incredible sight it is!

A Snapshot and The Scoop: Silver Bell Mine

The Silver Bell Mine, pictured above, is one of a few old prospecting locations scattered throughout Joshua Tree National Park. Once used to extract gold, lead, and copper from the surrounding desert mountains, the mine reached its peak in 1917 and was eventually abandoned in the 1960's. Reports from the height of gold fever showed the mine had low gold value, but rather high copper value - worth about $90 a ton.

A Snapshot and The Scoop: Organ Pipe Cactus

The Sonoran Desert might just be one of the most biologically rich deserts in the world. I mean, where else can you find both Saguaro cacti and Organ Pipe Cacti in the same place, not to mention the innumerable other cacti, shrub, and grass species that thrive in this green desert. While yes, technically the Sonoran is a desert, the cacti here get absolutely huge - take the Organ Pipe cactus in the picture above as an example. While not quite as tall as a saguaro, the organ pipe cacti certainly earns its cred as a huge cactus strictly from how wide it gets. Its many arms sprout from one base, focus more on taking up space than growing up high. It's still the second tallest plant for miles, and I was giddy every time I saw a new fantastically-shaped cactus. If I could grow them where I live you bet your bottom dollar I'd have a yard full of these babies!

A Snapshot and The Scoop: Palm Tree Oasis

Palm trees and cottonwoods are not exactly what you might expect to see in one of the driest deserts in the country, but it's no mirage. Surrounding a natural spring, a dozen palm trees and a few hardy cottonwoods populated a small, sheltered depression located in the lower elevations of Joshua Tree National Park. Walking among the palm trees, allowed to grow wild and therefore unmaintained with their palm fronds still attached, was like walking into a jungle. Even in the winter the topmost fronds were vibrant green, and the soft bubbling of the hidden spring echoed through the small pocket of stone and wood. One of few natural springs in the area, the oasis attracts plants and animals alike who need the water to survive the harsh desert climate.

A Snapshot and The Scoop: Wrong Side of the Barrier

You know that sinking feeling in your stomach when you realize things are just not going your way? Yeah, that's how I felt when I realized I was on the wrong side of this road block when trying to leave Chiricahua National Monument as I fled a brewing blizzard in the higher elevations of the park. Fleeing snow storms seemed to be the theme of this year's winter trip, despite the fact that I was in the desert for crying out loud, and aren't deserts supposed to get little to no precipitation??? I had been exploring the scenic monument road which took me to elevations above 9000 feet within the park, but I didn't even get out of my car at the top - I took one look at the inches of snow already on the ground and one glance up to the tops of the towering pine trees that I couldn't even see, and hightailed it (safely) back down. I passed a ranger going up while I was all but crawling down the slick mountain roads, and although I didn't know it at the time they were checking for guests and presumably kicking us out due to the storm. I was the only one stupid enough to be up there in the snow, though I was on my way down, so they followed some ways behind me. I thought for sure they'd locked this gate and I would have to wait for them before I could leave, but closer inspection showed me it wasn't chained and I could push it open to get through. I closed it behind me, of course, though I doubt anyone else would try to go up the mountain in a blizzard. Ah well, you live and you learn.

A Snapshot and The Scoop: Cholla Garden

Imagine my delight when, while driving the park road at Joshua Tree National Park as I was heading to lower (warmer) elevations, I rounded a curve in the road and was faced with a wide swath of cholla (choy-a) cacti! Labeled a Cholla Garden on the map, I'd noticed it when I first looked over the park information upon arrival, but I hadn't paid attention to where exactly this garden was, nor did I realize I was approaching it as I fled the higher elevation snow storms. I absolutely had to stop and wander the lined nature trail through the natural garden, full to bursting with cholla after cholla packed into a relatively large area. I definitely spent more time among the cacti here than I had spent outside my car in the entire rest of the park, but I was hardly complaining. I love cacti, and I'm always thrilled to see cacti gardens wherever I go. I even have a little cacti collection at home, started way back when my family and I first traveled to the desert southwest in 2001.

A Snapshot and The Scoop: Blown Away

Before this winter I had never experienced the sensation of almost being blown off my feet, but I certainly experienced it during my visit to Joshua Tree National Park. I really honestly thought I might be blown off the mountain top with the force of the winds whipped up by the winter storm lashing the park, to the point where I was bent almost double trying to make myself as small as possible and brace against the wind. I had driven to the park's highest elevation reachable by vehicle out of curiosity and the desire to at least see where the park roads took me, even though I wouldn't be hiking. The winds were blocked by a pile of boulders in the parking lot, but once I'd cleared the boulders I had to stop to regain my footing as I almost got blown over. Needless to say, I only stayed on the mountain top long enough to note that I really couldn't see shit due to the snow storm, snapped a few pictures anyway, then hurried back down to my car as I was pushed along by the gale howling at my back. I couldn't get back to the warmth and stillness of my car fast enough.

A Snapshot and The Scoop: Contact Zone

In the photo above we have the evidence of volcanic activity, earth upheaval, stream action, and erosion all in one place. The lighter rock was once magma buried deep within the earth. It pushed its way into the surrounding rock - the darker gneiss (pronounced nice) - where it solidified and crystallized into the granite we see today. Upheavals deep within the earth's crust forced the gneiss and granite to the surface, where a far wetter climate than what's present today cut the rock into a valley with a stream that carried sediment away. All of this occurring over millions of years, today showing us the contact zone where molten rock once met solid stone.

A Snapshot and the Scoop: "Action!"

This may look like an ancient ruin, but it was actually part of a movie set built in 1965 for "The Professionals." Recognized for it's incredibly geologic formations, many movies and commercials are filmed within the Valley of Fire State Park boundaries, which has caused park rangers to have to carefully manage who gets permits to film so that no lasting environmental impacts are made. I won't lie here, I rarely watch movies and have not seen any of the ones filmed in the park, but just the physical reminder that things like this exist is pretty neat!

A Snapshot and The Scoop: Reminders of the Past

Built by the CCC during the Great Depression, three cabins sit against a stone cliff overlooking the part of Valley of Fire State Park. The cabins are made from the same sandstone that's found in the rest of the park, and at first glance it's easy to miss them, which is sort of the point. Used by campers and travelers for years, the cabins now stand as empty reminders of what the CCC accomplished throughout the park, the state of Nevada, and the rest of the country as citizens struggled during the depression.

A Snapshot and The Scoop: Shooting Wildife

I had so much fun spotting and following this herd of Desert Bighorn Sheep during my visit to Valley of Fire State Park. Myself and another pair of guys followed the herd by car at first, then when they got closer we pulled over and pulled out our cameras, planting ourselves on the side of the road and watching them graze, wander, and head-butt for a good twenty or so minutes. Although it was bright and sunny out, the wind was blustery and by the time the herd moved off down the valley I was shivering, teeth chattering as I bid the other photographers goodbye. It's always fun to get good shots of animals doing what they naturally do - from the safety of a proper distance and a zoom lens.

A Snapshot and The Scoop: Mouse's Tank

In the desert, little shaded pockets of sandstone, usually located in the bottom of canyons, that are filled with perennial water are called "tanks". These tanks are life-saving resources for desert animals and humans alike, such as the Southern Paiute Indian this particular tank located in Valley of Fire State Park in Nevada is named after. "Little Mouse" was a fugitive accused of killing two prospectors, and used this water source while hiding from the law in the late 1800s. Though he was eventually caught and killed, Little Mouse survived for far longer than anyone would have thought in this dry desert, all because he found this tank of water. Today, desert-dwelling animals such as lizards, snakes, mice, and big horn sheep use this water source and others like it to survive where there are no rivers or lakes, and where rain is scarce.

A Bit of a Letdown: Joshua Tree National Park

Disillusioned. Perhaps it was because it was cloudy, or maybe because it was snowing (in southern California!), or maybe because I was sleep-deprived, but regardless, my first impression of Joshua Tree National Park was lackluster. Maybe I had over hyped the park I've heard so much about as a premier place for rock climbing and camping and backcountry hiking, but when I actually got there I really didn't see what all the fuss was about. I mean sure, the miles and miles of paved and dirt roads were great to drive, the Joshua Trees were otherworldly, and you can never go wrong with dropping me into the middle of a desert, and while I can absolutely see why it deserves national park designation I just wasn't all that impressed. Is it possible to get travel burnout? Have I really been to so many places that one of the most visited national parks rates as just an "eh" on my list of natural wonders in the country?

I'm probably not being completely fair. I really was sleep-deprived, coming off of two days of manning aid stations at this year's Grandmasters Ultra race, both nights of which were spent shivering in blisteringly cold, windy conditions despite our best efforts to provide warmth for the runners and ourselves. I was also (still sort of am) struggling with my depression, and dealing with the letdown of my expectations for my February desert trip not being met. I had been so looking forward to the desert sun, for brilliant red rock canyons and towering mountains bathed in light and shadow. While I did get that (during the day) for the two days I was on the Arizona/Nevada/Utah border (a post for another time) both the drive to the area and the rest of the week afterward before I got home were plagued with winter storms, traffic-snarling blizzards, and overcast skies. I went out there for the sun, damn it!

It snowed the entire time I explored the upper elevations of Joshua Tree. Sometimes the snow was light and I took short walks through the desert plants, sometimes the snow was heavy and I sat in my car on the side of the road, pouting. I did make sure to drive the scenic dirt roads marked on the park map, and those ended up being my favorite parts of the visit. You all know how much I love to drive, and if I couldn't hike among the cracked granite boulders famous for their rock-climbing routes then at least I could see them from the warmth and comfort of my car. I mean, technically I could have hiked, but why would I purposely subject myself to being cold and wet and miserable when I was already grumpy with how my visit was going? If I'd done that I probably would have wound up with hypothermia and absolutely no desire to return to the park someday in the future when there's better weather.

As it was, I spent nearly the whole day in the park determined to see everything I could from my car because I had driven all the way out there and I am way more stubborn than what's probably good for me. The clouds cleared off a bit once I descended into the lower elevations, from the Mojave Desert into the Colorado Desert, though by the time I got there it was later in the afternoon and not much left to drive of the main park road. Don't get me wrong, the scenery was exactly what I'd been hoping for when planning my visit; rugged mountains lined with Joshua Tree forests, wide valleys filled with all sorts of my favorite cacti, sand-colored granite blocks as tall as skyscrapers, and a general lack of other people in the area because I purposely visited in the middle of the week (and also apparently during a winter snowstorm). Joshua Tree was beautiful and packed with the activities that would normally make me giddy and itching to get my hiking shoes on to explore, but I just wasn't feeling it this time around.

Someday, whenever I make my way into southern California again, I'll revisit Joshua Tree and give it a second chance. Someday I'll go back and there won't be a cloud in the sky and I'll soak up as much of that desert sun as I can handle (spoiler: it's a lot). Someday I'll hike as many miles of cacti-choked trails as I want, and maybe even do a bit of climbing while I'm at it. I'll keep dreaming until that someday comes.

A Snapshot and The Scoop: The Three Corners

Reachable only via (really awesome) four-wheel drive roads, the corners of Arizona, Nevada, and Utah converge out in the middle of the Mojave Desert, not far from the tiny town of Littlefield, Arizona. While not as famous as it's Four Corners counterpart (Arizona, Colorado, New Mexico, and Utah), the three corners is still a bustling place during good-weather days. It was also the most remote aid station at this year's Grandmasters Ultra race, and I spent a day here with Torrey, Tyler, and Chris while we served runners completing their race. I would probably never have visited this little concrete and metal monument if not for the race, so props to the race directors for giving me a chance to see something new!

A Snapshot and The Scoop: The Vanishing Creek

There is a place, deep in the heart of Colorado where towering sand dunes are surrounded by rugged mountain ranges, where water flows above ground only during certain times of the year. Medano Creek borders the dune field at Great Sand Dunes National Park, flowing only when the snow is melting from the slopes of the mountains upstream. Once the snow is gone the creek stops flowing above ground, instead sinking the moisture into the sand while still travelling downstream, surfacing beyond the park in lush wetlands that play host to migrating birds, elk, deer, moose, and bears. Sometimes, during spring and early summer, the creek is cold and deep and fast-moving, stretching all the way from the dunes parking lot to the dunes themselves. During our visit last year Torrey and I followed all that was left of the stream, a little trickle of water, all they way to its end, when it gives up on the surface and soaks into the sand below. In all my visits to the park I've never actually seen the end of the creek - I've only ever seen it full and flowing or completely dry - so this was a fun little sight to see, there at the end of summer.

Chiricahua

Curiosity and ambition are the two main motivating factors that drive my travels. I have a huge goal to visit every unit of the national park system, and that combined with a general lack of tight schedules while traveling leave me with ample opportunity to stop at roadside attractions on a whim. These same factors compel me to drive every scenic byway marked on a map (because I still use paper maps, especially due to my tendency to visit places with little to no cell service), which is why I found myself heading to Chiricahua National Monument in southeastern Arizona on my way home from a week in the desert.

I hadn't been quite ready to return home, though I wasn't actively looking for ways to stall, and once the little green square on the map caught my attention I knew I'd be checking it out. I'd never heard of Chiricauhua, though I suppose that's not too difficult to believe considering it's a ways away from basically every major transportation corridor in the area. I didn't mind the distraction, and turned off at the appropriate exit to make my way across rolling plains deep in a valley between rugged desert mountain ranges. This little national monument lies nestled at the foot of one of these mountain ranges, and my approach was overshadowed by a looming storm. At lower elevations the precipitation was rain, though as I climbed up into the mountains by way of the two-lane monument drive the rain turned to sleet. It was a mixture of sleet and snow by the time I reached the visitors center, and full on snowing when I left the building a few minutes later.

Chiricahua is a place where five of the seven "life zones" in the northern hemisphere are stacked on top of each other in the space of a few miles, defined by differences in elevation, moisture, soil, and sun exposure. Starting at the lowest elevations we see the Lower Sonoran Zone characterized by bare patches of earth sprinkled with thorny desert plants, followed by the Upper Sonoran, Transition, Canadian, and finally the Hudsonian Zone above 9000 feet, where spruce, fir, and aspens thrive. Microhabitats are everywhere, catering to a multitude of species that otherwise would never converge here. Mountain-dwelling bears share the area with desert tortoises, deer are everywhere, and there are more birds in this location than nearly anywhere else in the Sonoran Desert.

One species I didn't see as I made my way up the scenic drive was humans. I didn't see a single other person as I drove, winding through canyons and along mountainside cliffs to the road's end at the summit, though hindsight shows that was probably due to the storm that was intensifying in the higher elevations of the park. The snow was heavier at the top, several inches already laying in dripping sheets over the parking lot and picnic tables that supposedly showcased unrivaled views of the valley below. During my visit I could barely see the tops of the ponderosas next to me, let alone the valley bottom, and I didn't linger at the top for long. I had no desire to take a tumble down the mountainside on my way back down along the increasingly slick road, and threw my car into the lowest gear possible in order to keep it under control. I left none too soon - they closed the park road just after I left.

2019 Wrap Up: It Was A Quiet Year

Muted. As far as travelling is concerned, it's been a quite year for me. I've been just exhausted this year, which has led me to choosing to stay home more often than not, spending my weekends, long weekends, and even longer breaks around holidays lounging around my house and yard. I have been able to get out and run, though, so I'm still spending plenty of time outdoors - on both streets and trails- so I'm not lacking in the sunshine department at least. I did manage to get a few trips in this year, so read on below for a recap:

I kicked off 2019 by taking a week-long vacation to the deserts of Arizona with my cat. Hoodoo and I volunteered at an ultra race along the borders of Arizona, Nevada, and Utah, then we took off on our own to explore the deserts for a few days before heading home. We saw quite a bit of Arizona on our trip, and are already looking forward to going back again in the new year.

We adopted a new dog, and I "had" to travel to pick him up from my friend/his foster mom in Oklahoma. Bullet is a gentle, incredibly affectionate shepherd and fits in with our family like he's always belonged. And yeah, seeing Julia and her family while picking him up was the icing on the cake.

Callie, Hoodoo, and I took a weekend in late March to run away and look for alligators, and to spend a night on the gulf coast. We found plenty of gators, and while Hoodoo didn't appreciate the wind off the gulf we still got in a gorgeous sunrise stroll along the coast.

Hoodoo's and my trip to White Sands National Monument (now National Park!!) was . . . not great. It began with a hot day and a spectacular sunset followed by a lovely and quiet sunrise, then devolved into chaos and whipping sand and a flying tent with its occupants (us) still in it. One terrified cat, shredded tent, and broken wrist later, I don't think I'll be visiting White Sands again for a while. It took me six weeks to physically heal, and probably way longer than that to get over the disappointment of that disaster of a trip.

Despite still being in a wrist brace I took off by myself for ten days of driving and travelling around the east coast on what might be my most epic driving adventure to date. I visited 24 states plus Washington D.C. in that amount of time, saw the borders of Canada and the Atlantic Ocean, hit a ton of state and national parks, and tent camped most of those nights. It was a much needed retreat from normal life, and one of my top adventures of the year.

For the second year in a row LeakyCon was hosted in Dallas, and for the second year in a row I got tickets! Eleven year old me would never have forgiven myself if I had the chance to see Tom Felton (who played Draco Malfoy in the Harry Potter films) in person, and I am thrilled that I went.

For the sixth year in a row Torrey and I headed to Colorado in August, where we spent a week hiking 14,000 foot mountains, camping, sight-seeing, soaking in hot springs, and attempting but failing to backpack in sand dunes (no more sand dunes for me for a while, dammit!) We also went to Pikes Peak for the Ascent and Marathon for the sixth time, with me once again acting as cheerleader. We've got 49 more 14'ers to hike, and I can't wait for the years and adventures to come.

In September Jared and I actually travelled together and spent a weekend on the Texas Gulf Coast celebrating a friend's beautiful wedding. Not only did I get Jared to travel, but I even got him to go swimming in the Gulf with me! Talk about miracles!

Another wedding, this time for my cousin, led me back to Nebraska in October, where I hung out with family and celebrated a couple's love by partying the night away. It was a super short trip for me, with really only a single day and night with my family before turning around and heading home, but it was all the sweeter for it.

A day trip in November when Torrey came down to my neck of the woods for a visit found us in gator country along the Texas coast, where we saw quite a few of these reptiles and also made a trip to see the gulf before heading home at sunset. A long day with many hours in the car, but good company makes the miles and hours fly by.

On a random Saturday in mid-November I was heading north to meet my dad somewhere in Oklahoma to exchange a precious package: the little kitten pictured above, now named Nova, had been hit by a car the week prior while on my way in to work. I found her, began her recovery, and proceeded to bombard my family with pictures and videos of the little kitten with a bobbed tail who just wouldn't give up. My sister decided she wanted her, so my dad and I met up halfway between our homes for lunch and to get Nova to her new family. It might be the craziest adventure I've ever had: driving 12 hours for a one-hour lunch and to exchange a cat, but who cares. Nova is happy and healthy and now I get to see her any time I visit! It's a win for everyone.

Again, it's actually been a pretty quiet year this year. I travelled the least amount this year since I started tracking back in 2014, and while it seemed like it was okay while it was happening I now wish I'd made a little more effort throughout the year. Of course, some things that prevented my travels were beyond my control, but there's always next year to be more enthusiastic. Anyway, the usual stats are below:

Adventures: 11
Hours: 986.86
Miles Driven: 18,298
Total Cost: $3,078.92
States Visited: 29 plus Washington D.C.
Hiked: 59.6 miles
State Parks Visited: 6
National Parks Visited: 9
National Monument Visited: 3
National Forests Visited: 3
Wilderness Areas Visited: 1
National Seashore: 1
Navajo Tribal Park: 1
Number of Nights Tent Camping: 12
Number of Nights Sleeping IN the Car: 8
Number of Nights Backpacking: 2
Number of Nights in a Hotel: 4
Number of Nights in a House: 10
Number of Nights in an RV: 2
Animal Companions: 31
Human Companions: 33 plus various wedding guests

2020 is a new year, a fresh start, and I may or may not already have all of my vacation time planned out for the whole year. I've got several week-long trips booked already, with the first one beginning in February in the deserts. I just know this year is going to be a good one, so goodbye to the adventures of 2019 and hello to the new ones of 2020!

A Snapshot and The Scoop: Sand Sculptures

Wind and water can sculpt some amazing formations, even if they might be small, delicate things that blow away with a breath. Gypsum especially seems to form an array of fragile flakes, built by water and torn by wind. Even in the middle of the dune field at White Sands National Monument, if you pay attention you can find little sculptures left in tribute to the wild, which will vanish with the next storm.

A Snapshot and The Scoop: Nature-Made Pincushions

Yet another desert plant I seriously want to add to my collection, the Pin Cushion Cactus just looks so cute! Sure, I wouldn't particularly want to snuggle up to its prickly-spun stem, but I can once again see myself having one or two in my home. And honestly, as far as cacti go, this little guy is hardly one that will hurt too bad if you accidentally get poked. Am I a crazy cactus lady? Probably. Do I care? Nope!