Merry Christmas from Jolly's Ranch!

 

9" x 12" Oil on Panel

Down the valley from where I live is a canyon in the Wasatch Range I've visited a lot this year. A few miles up the canyon is a city park that, I presume, used to be a ranch. I've driven past that park many times on my way to higher altitudes, each time thinking I should stop and paint there some time. Yesterday, Christmas Eve, was finally that time.

One nice thing about painting in winter: no bugs in your painting!

MERRY CHRISTMAS!

Taking a Walk Through Autumn's Colors

In recent months I've spent a fair amount of time wandering through forests high up in the mountains. These forests have aspens and evergreens on more northerly inclined slopes and in sheltered areas, while Gambel oak predominate on drier, more southerly exposures. Rocky Mountain Maple grow in their own little pockets or scattered throughout.

The colors this fall have been impressive in spite of a dry summer. Maples show a relatively wide range of color, with vivid reds and oranges, to yellow that competes with aspens and box elder for any sightseer's attention. Aspens shimmer gold in the breeze, brilliant against a backdrop of evergreens. Oak leaves display a subtle rust color, much more subdued than the showier parts of the forest.

On my woods walks I've seen chickadees, nuthatches, jays, and crows. Ruffed grouse are the color of the forest floor and can be hard to see. Chipmunks are quite common. They often show curiosity, their tails and legs twitching as they watch me before they dart away. Pine squirrels chatter from pine boughs here or there. High overhead, a few hawks in their migration wheel and glide across the sky.

Deer are common in these woods, as are wild turkeys. I've also seen moose and bear here. Judging from sign I've seen, elk roam this area, too, although I've yet to see them in this particular section of the mountains. No telling what other things, hidden from my view, have shared these woods with me on my visits.

One particular day in early October, I walked into an isolated patch of aspens surrounded by tall evergreens. This pocket of aspens was maybe about eighty yards long. Their golden leaves shimmered and rustled in the gentle autumn breeze. Trees still had most of their foliage, though the ground was nearly covered with fallen yellow aspen leaves, giving the impression of gold overhead and gold under foot. The air temperature was perfect. The soft breezes and whisper of aspen leaves soothing. The color was dazzling. I stood there for several minutes, quite content, in what seemed almost like a mild trance. Suddenly, a grouse thundered into the air from it's hiding spot nearby, flew the length of the aspen stand and into the pines. I watched the grouse fly, all the while feeling like I was trying to wake up.

My walk took me up through the woods and onto a ridge. An open meadow there provided a wonderful view of surrounding mountains. Being late in the day, the low angle of sunlight painted distant ridges and peaks with bright sienna and umbers, while cool shadows flooded into deep canyons. Those shadows soon covered everything. In the dark, I walked an old logging road to a dirt road that followed the main ridge between Hobble Creek and Diamond Fork. As I walked the road, a few deer crossed ahead of me. The deer were barely visible in the dark, appearing like ghosts. When I reached where the deer had crossed, I could hear them hurrying away through the brush. Mindful that things more concerning than deer roam these woods at night, I fished a flashlight out of my day pack.

Following the road back would be the long way, but I found another old logging road that seemed to lead in the direction I wanted to go. That trail led down to another meadow, one I was familiar with. From there I was able to follow game trails and cattle trails back to my car.

Spring City Plein Air 2020

 

11" x 14" Oil on Panel

Spent the last week painting and getting ready for the annual Spring City Plein Air show. Got a late start because I thought the event had been canceled like all the other plein air events this year. Found out two days into the event that it was still on, so I hurried down to Spring City to get my painting panels stamped and start painting!

11" x 14" Oil on Panel

Went to a place south of town for the first painting. The next day I went up onto the Skyline Drive and did an alpine painting of a group of trees overlooking the valley. I think it's the first time I've ever painted above 10,000 feet elevation. While painting the second day I kept myself hydrated by drinking water from a plastic water bottle I had brought with me. The bottle hissed when I first opened it at altitude. Later, upon returning to the valley, I found that the water bottle had partially collapsed from the change in air pressure. When I loosened the cap, the bottle reinflated itself.

12" x 9" Oil on Panel

The last painting was made at some red rock formations in Diamond Fork Canyon. It's not exactly Southern Utah, but between the red rock formations, the red sand, and some little lizards running around, I felt like I was stepping out of a southern Utah bubble when I was finished and left to go home.

The show will be mainly displayed online for the next couple weeks. For those wishing to purchase a painting from the show, you can click here, or go to springcityarts.com, click on "Plein Air Paintings", and follow directions from there. Last I looked, my paintings are displayed on page 10 of their "Plein Air Paintings" site.

Utah County Plein Air Show

In a year marked by such unpleasantries as a pandemic, recession, earthquake, riots, upcoming elections, and so forth, so many of the plein air competitions, like so many things, have been canceled. But not the Utah County Plein Air Show!

Two years ago was the first year for the Utah County Plein Air Show, and I was part of that, but last year I didn't participate. This year, however, even though I was one of the last to get my panels stamped for the competition, I really did jump at the chance to enter into the event.

There was some confusion when I went to turn in my three finished entries for the show. A Utah County Art Board email said turn in for paintings was June 27 by 11:00 AM. I hadn't checked on the email but was going by what was printed on a form the art board handed out when I registered for the competition, which stated turn in time was 12 NOON. I arrived at the venue on the 27th at around 11:30 thinking I still had time. I was met in the parking lot by a board member who was leaving. She informed me the deadline was 11 AM and that everyone had already left! Luckily I had the form with me and, perhaps with a little excitement, showed her the form and pointed out the 12 Noon deadline stated on the form. The board member agreed and called someone to come open the venue again so I could enter my paintings. The paintings were finally entered into the show.

Unfortunately, I forgot to photograph my paintings before turning them in, so I had to go back later and get these three poorly done photos after the show opened. Hopefully they'll still give you a good enough idea of how the paintings look. The first painting (shown above) was made in the Spanish Fork River Bottoms along a bike trail there. The next painting was made near the pass between Hobble Creek Canyon and Diamond Fork Canyon. Upon reaching the pass, I turned onto a dirt track that ran along a ridge top. I followed the track for a couple miles before picking this spot to paint.

A day or two later I returned to the pass and set up by a large meadow that contained some corrals. There I made the last painting, shown here with a little extra blue added on one side by the show's judge:

Come see the exhibit! The show will be up until August 29th. There's plenty of paintings by several  painters to see. It's located at the Health and Justice Building at 151 S. University Ave, Provo, Utah. Check ahead for hours.

Early May Hike - Dry Hills

This Post returns to the theme of hiking in the West Desert. 

Looking Back Down the Trail, Towards Mt. Nebo.

Early in May I traveled to the south end of Goshen Canyon to visit an area I'd seen before but never hiked. This place might seem unimpressive in comparison with much more spectacular mountains not far away (such as shown in the first two images of this post), but it has qualities all it's own. The West Desert is an important part of the diversity of landscape that exists here in the Intermountain West. I had explored the eastern ridge above the canyon a couple weeks before. The plan this trip was to climb and walk the higher, more extensive western ridge.

Closer View of Mt. Nebo.

The western ridge provides spectacular views in every direction. Hiking up the trail towards the ridge, I frequently paused to look back across Juab Valley at Mt. Nebo, which rises to nearly 12,000 feet above sea level. The ridge I would be hiking this day is not nearly so high, rugged, cold and daunting as those snow capped peaks. Compared to climbing Nebo, my hike that day was rather easy. Maybe another day, Nebo!

Higher Up the Ridge.

Upon reaching the ridge line, I left the trail and headed higher. By this time I was reminded that gnat season was in full swing as no-see-ums mounted a close assault on me. Mosquitoes joined the attack. I dug through my daypack and found a small spray bottle of insect repellent. Applying the repellent pretty much ended the no-see-um's onslaught. The mosquitoes, however, were not impressed and continued to press their attacks.

A creek flows through the canyon, but the hills and ridges around the canyon are dry. That dryness shows in the pale, greyed colors of trees, grass and rocks. This time of year, though, the drab colors of the hills and ridges are punctuated here and there with bright red blossoms of cactus. The surprisingly intense red of the cactus flowers contrasts dramatically with the subdued hues of the surrounding landscape.

Blooming Cactus

More Cactus

Yet More Cactus

There's not a lot of other wild flowers on these hillsides. Those that are in bloom are small, and could easily be overlooked by unobservant passers by. No other flora here even approaches the brilliance of the cactus flowers, but as far as I'm concerned, all of it deserves a hiker's notice.

Once away from the immediate area of the creek, it seems the only species of tree on these hills is juniper. One of the reasons, and probably the main one, for how sparse the trees are on these hills is because of wildfires that occasionally sweep the area.

Fire Killed Tree

 The ridge I walked was a series of peaks and saddles that gradually rose higher the farther north I traveled. The geology of the ridge where I hiked up seem to reveal some granite and basalt. As I headed north along the ridge, the rock formations became limestone and sandstone. 

All along the ridge I could hear the clear, brilliant songs of meadowlarks. At one ridgeline pass I was surprised by a flock of seagulls flying from Goshen Valley and apparently headed toward Mona Lake in Juab Valley. The seagulls cleared the pass by just a few yards directly in front of me, dipping and whirling and banking as they flew.

The Top?

On one of the highest peaks along this stretch of the ridge was an important looking marker. The pile of rocks and flag seem to suggest that this peak has some significance. I have no idea what that significance might be, or even if the peak has a name, but I did feel welcomed when I walked around to the other side of the flag.

"Welcome!"

The next picture shows the view looking north from the peak. The snow capped mountains in the far distance are, from left to right: Lone Peak, Mt. Timpanogos, Cascade Mountain, and Provo Peak. The closer peak at the left in the picture was my goal for the hike.

Looking North

Here's a view from the same spot of the southern end of Goshen Valley.

A View into Goshen Valley

Looking directly south, I could see much of the ridge I had just walked, and a lot more ridges I haven't walked - yet.

Looking Back the Way I Had Come.

Leaving that peak, the ridge took me across another saddle and over a peak that had widely scattered juniper trees growing on it. It's one of the very few places directly on the ridge that had any trees at all. Down a wash on the western side of the ridge I could hear a batch of chukar partridges chatting among themselves.

The Next-to-the-Last peak on the Ridge.

Hiking beyond that, I finally made it to the end of the ridge. The last peak was marked with a scraggly-looking pole that was slowly loosing what I think were it's guy wires. The pole may have had a flag on it at one time, but looked like it would make a better lightning rod than flagpole.

End of the Ridge, But Not the Hike...

Walking around to the other side of the marker I looked down the end of the ridge. Two golden eagles were in a dead tree on the other side, just below the peak. Startled by my sudden appearance right above them, they took flight. The eagles soared back and forth a hundred or so yards from me. I tried to take a couple pictures of them, but the pics didn't turn out.

I really wanted to stay and watch the eagles but mosquitoes were becoming intolerable. I was killing mosquitoes on my arms, sometimes three or four per swat. Also, the sun was just above the mountains to the west, and it would be dark soon. I headed down the mountainside to find a way back to my car. Farther down the slope I crossed a small ridge and traveled into a little valley where I saw a herd of mule deer. It was fully night by the time I crossed another small ridge on my way out of that valley. I hiked in the dark looking for a dirt road I believed was in the area. If I found it, it should lead me back to where the car was parked. As I walked farther down the mountainside I heard a coyote begin to yap and howl in the hills just across the canyon. Finally I found the road. From there I walked in the dark along the dusty road playing a game I call, "Where The Heck Did I Park The Car?!" I can't say it's always a fun game. I don't know how far I walked - by this time it seemed a lot longer than it probably was - but I eventually arrived at my car. From there it was down the dirt trail to pavement, and then, back home.

Pre-pandemic Portrait Sketches

12" x 9" Pastel on Sanded Paper

These two portrait sketches are from a few weeks before when just about everything - including live drawing sessions - was shut down on account of current worldwide viral and governmental circumstances. I'm certainly looking forward to when the disease is brought under control, vaccines and better treatments are developed, and I can start going to drawing sessions again. 

14" x 11" Charcoal on Grey Paper

In the mean time, there are other things to do. I miss the benefits of going to live drawing sessions every week, but it's probably not worth the risks right now, especially to anyone who could become seriously ill, or worse. Besides, drawing a model who's wearing a face mask might not be very helpful. Also, I doubt hand sanitizer would make a very good solvent or medium for any kind of painting!

Two Hikes

This post compresses two hikes into one post. The first was on West Mountain a few days before the first day of Spring, the second hike was in the East Tintic Mountains a couple days after the Vernal Equinox. Weather for both hikes was partly to mostly cloudy, with a chance for precipitation.

Click on the photos to see larger versions.

The first photo shows the approach to the stone gateway into the mysterious mountain!

Then through the gateway!

My hike followed a broad wash in a canyon which zig-zaged up the mountain. Here it passes a wall of vertical rock strata.

Looking back at a section of the rock wall.

I wonder what might live in that jagged cave?

Looking back down canyon. The rocky, treeless nature of this landscape reminds me of pictures I've seen of Siani, where the ancient Twelve Tribes of Israel wandered for forty years on the way to the Promised Land. Perhaps it even reminds me of remote parts of the Holy Land.

Looking down canyon again, a while later, with a view across the lake and towards the Traverse Mountains.

Getting higher up canyon where the snow is.

The wash begins to narrow.

Eventually, the wash narrowed into a gully. I wanted to climb higher, and did walk a little ways past where the next photo was taken, but storm clouds were gathering overhead, and soon some rain began to fall. Gullies are not good places to be in rainstorms, so I donned my rain gear and turned back down the canyon. Most of the return hike was after nightfall.

The rain ended and the cloud cover became broken as I reached the bottom of the canyon. Upon exiting the canyon I saw to the west and south, huge anvil-shaped clouds silhouetted against an orangish afterglow along the horizon. Above me the constellation Orion and the Pleiades shone down through scattered clouds.

Some might find such a barren landscape unappealing, but I enjoyed it! It doesn't matter to me so much whether a place is forested, grassy, rocky, mountainous, hilly, marshy, sandy, or what-have-you. What matters to me is that it is wild. I found mule deer and chukar partridges, among other wildlife, in the canyon. Some of the limestone outcrops and boulders appear to have fossilized crinoids or brachiopods in them. Someday I'll take that canyon again, when I have enough time, and try to follow it all the way to the top.

Me in the canyon:

__________________________

The next hike was around a week later, this time in the East Tintic Mountains. The first photo is well into the hike, as I had already climbed over a barbed wire fence, crossed a large chained area, hiked through some brush and over a small ridge. Here a rancher's road ended at a gate in another fence. One day I'll pass through that gate and explore farther up that way, but on this day I chose to go another direction.

One of the reasons I had picked this place to hike was because the Wasatch Mountains were socked in by winter weather that seemed unwilling to relent to Spring. I imagine a hike in one of my usual Wasatch canyons would have likely been a hike in a blizzard. Here, the weather was a little cool, but pleasant, with the sun shining most of the day. This photo shows sunshine where I was, and the distant Wasatch Range rising into storm clouds.

I hiked over small ridges and in and out of washes all afternoon, not following any particular route. The next photo shows the typical pinyon pine and juniper covered hills I hiked in that day:

In failing daylight, I photographed this rock outcrop at the edge of a wash:

Some of the hiking gear I typically take with me:

Once again, my hike back was after dark. I arrived at the car after 9:00 PM. Stars shone down through a hazy sky, with the planet Venus in the western sky upstaging every other star with it's dazzling brilliance. This time of year, it's still winter constellations that show in the late evening sky; Orion, Canis Major, Gemini, Auriga, Taurus, and the Pleiades, to name a few. Mid summer will bring a different parade of constellations to the night sky; Cygnus, Aquila, and Lyra - their brightest stars forming an asterism called the Summer Triangle. Also, low in the southern sky Scorpius will have finally climbed above the horizon. I certainly look forward to summer, but won't pass up the wonderful opportunities Springtime hikes provide!

A selfie from the East Tintic Mountain hike: