Dragons in the Mountains

 

On My Way to the Ridge.

On a nice late summer day last week, there was nothing better I could think of doing than go exploring places in the mountains I haven't been yet. So that's what I did. After driving a ways up a jeep trail, I parked my 4Runner and continued walking through the woods on a trail to a large meadow. There I found another trail that led up onto a ridge. On that trail I came across this little red dragon, a horned toad which might have looked ferocious if it hadn't been but an inch long. After spending a few minutes watching and photographing the little lizard, I moved on up the trail. 

Little Horned Toad

Only a few steps later I found another, bigger dragon:

Bigger Horned Toad

Horned toads always seem to me a little like miniature dinosaurs, maybe something like a mini ankylosaurus. This horned toad, at four inches or so long, is the biggest one I've ever seen. Perhaps not quite dragon material to humans, but I imagine that's the way ants might see them. Horned toads eat ants.

Overlooking Diamond Fork

Continuing up the trail I reached the top of the ridge. From there I could see Strawberry Ridge to the east. To the west were the Wasatch Mountains, rising up nearly 12,000 feet above sea level. The view southward overlooked Diamond Fork Canyon and the Sheep Creek area.

Southern Wasatch Mountains; Mt. Nebo in the Far Distance.

There on the ridge I sat and enjoyed the evening. The weather was pleasant and the view spectacular!  As the evening grew late I watched a full moon rise in the east...

...and was also treated to a wonderful sunset in the west.

After dark, I hiked down off the ridge and headed back through the woods the way I had come. Broken beams of moonlight shone down through a forest of aspens and tall evergreens. Pale aspen tree trunks glowed in the bright moonlight. A small snake quickly crawled out of my path and into the brush by the trail. It was too dark by then to clearly see markings on the snake, but I'm guessing it was a racer or garter snake, judging from it's general size and shape. A rhythmic chorus of crickets and other night sounds accompanied my walk back to the car.

I ought to do this sort of thing more often.

Thanks for reading!

Utah County Plein Air Show 2022

12" x 16" Oil on Panel

The Utah County plein air event is going on now. Paintings for the competition were turned in last Saturday. The opening reception is this Friday, June 3rd from 6:00 PM to 9:00 PM at the Health and Justice building, 151 South University Avenue in Provo. For more information, visit their website at:

http://www.utahcountyart.com/index.php

11" x 14" Oil on Panel

These are my two entries fore the show. I chose to go to a couple of the higher elevations in the county for these two paintings. I'm looking forward to seeing what other's have entered into the show! The exhibit will be up through July, I understand, so if you happen to be in the area, come see the show!

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!

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.

Mid October Hues

20" x 20" Oil on Panel

Here's a square painting for once. I kind of like the format, so I might just paint a few more of them. Who knows, I could start trying other non-standard formats also.

This painting shows the subtle, earthy colors of a mid October rural landscape. It's days like this that make me want to outfit one of my paintboxes with only earth tone oil colors, just for scenes like this. This painting could have been made using mainly earth colors, such as yellow ochre, burnt umber and burnt sienna, but I used my usual split primary plus viridian palette instead, because that's what I have. Such a bright palette can be used to create earth tone colors just fine, it's just a little more expensive to do it that way. It would be interesting to see how a scene like this could be painted with a Zorn-ish palette, such as yellow ochre, cadmium red, and ivory black or ultramarine blue, plus titanium white. I'll be sure to give that a try sometime soon.

This painting will be in a show early next year. I'll explain more about the show later, as we get closer to it.

Exploring September Woods

Long View Beyond the Woods

It's the end of September. In the mountains, a few trees are already beginning to display their autumn colors. Late summer asters and goldenrod seem to be the most common wildflowers blooming this late in the season. The early autumn sun shines more gently than it did during the height of summer.

A handful of times this month I've gone up into the mountains in an unsuccessful attempt to hunt forest grouse. Despite the lack of success bagging any game, time spent in the mountain forests and ridges has been time well spent. I believe it's time I need to spend there.

Meadow, Forrest and Mountain

The canyons, woods, and ridge tops of the southern Wasatch range haven't given me any grouse yet, but they've provided thoughtful time to myself as I've explored stands of aspen and evergreen. There have been tremendous views from ridge tops where one can see for many miles; views not only pleasing to the eye, but also challenging to the mind.

Overlooking Sanpete Valley

What is it about those views of ridge after ridge, canyon after canyon that compel me to stop and try to comprehend them? What is in those canyons and on those mountains that could be different from where I stand looking out over such an expansive landscape? Are there other opportunities there? More potential? More grouse? New opportunities for plein air painting? More opportunities to learn about the landscape, and about life?

I can't begin to describe everything I've seen on trips into the wild, nor explain many of the things I've experienced there. I'm certain I'll continue to see and experience new things in visits to the wild, yet I'm sure there's also much that gets missed. Time spent out there changes me, probably in ways I'm not always aware of.

A Gathering of Evergreens

The shotgun I carried on these hunts never was fired, but a camera was frequently brought into action. All of the pictures in this post are from my September hunts.

A Woodsy Trail

One of the places I went to had large areas burned in big wildfires last year. There's still plenty of places to go that aren't burnt, but I frequently came across areas of standing charred trees where new green brush was beginning to push up through ashen soil.

Charred Forrest

One thing hunting does for me is that it compels me to hike and explore places I wouldn't otherwise go. If such trips don't result in fresh wild table fare, they always give me other things that are well worth the expense of a hunting license. There were plenty of opportunities to view wildlife other than what I was after. Deer, wild turkeys, pine squirrels, woodpeckers, flickers, ravens and red-tailed hawks were among the wildlife I enjoyed seeing on these mountain trips. On occasion I'd come across curious things, such as an ancient dead pine tree that looked like it should be haunted.

Tree Monster

In another place, I found this assemblage of sticks and logs. My guess is it was either once a hunter's blind or built by some bushcrafter practicing making a survival shelter.

Here's my companion on these trips into the September woods. Turns out all it did was come along for the ride, but that's OK. 'Twern't any trouble at all.

The later half of the month definitely had a feeling of changing seasons. During one visit to the mountains late in the month, mild temperatures and increasing cloud cover gave the sky a very un-summer like mood. Cloud cover became broken and ragged. Curtains of rain hung from dark clouds in the southeastern sky. The rain seemed to drag around the edges of the landscape, but left me alone during most of the day.

Changing Colors

Hunting up a draw through aspen thickets, I continued until I came to a ridge line edged with scrub oak. I didn't expect to see any game birds on the ridge, I simply wanted to be there. After tarrying a little on the ridge, I headed back down a different slope, going from one stand of quakies to another. The dirt road, and my car, came into view far too soon. There was still time left in the day, so I headed up through a meadow and into another section of woods. There aspen leaves shimmered and whispered in the autumn breeze.

Diamond Fork

Cloud cover and the late time of day finally combined to spread a continuous shadow across the landscape. Returning through forest and meadow, I watched as the lowering sun at first gilded cloud tops, then painted them with a pinkish orange hue. A light, unsteady rain began to fall where I was. Standing beside my car, I watched the evening deepen. In the distance a jagged bolt of lightning flashed in dark storm clouds. Tomorrow morning these mountaintops will have a light dusting of snow. But this evening two things seem to tug at me, pulling in opposite directions. It was time to go, but I really didn't want to.

Changing Weather

Mt. Olympus on a Hot Summer's Day

9" x 12" Oil on Panel

This is a plein air painting of Mt. Olympus as seen from Olympus Hills Park in Holliday. This section of the park is a nice wild little area near the eastern edge of the city. Walking paths meander through tall grasses and scrub oak, providing a little bit of nature in a broad valley otherwise filled mostly with city.

The day I painted this was very hot, probably over 100° F (38° C). Of course, the view I wanted required that I set up in direct sun for a few hours. I didn't think I could withstand the summer heat long enough to do a large painting, so I kept it fairly small. Judging by how I felt when the painting was finished, I was probably right.

Climbing Provo Peak 2019

Provo Peak (Oil on Panel)

This is a painting I made a few years ago Of Provo Peak, as seen from the valley near the boat harbor. Last Week, a friend of mine and I decided to hike Provo Peak, which rises 11,068 feet (about 3,374 meters) above sea level.

Provo Peak, Photographed from the Side of Lionshead Peak.

We started out in the afternoon, driving up Provo Canyon to Squaw Peak Road. There the driving became progressively worse the farther up the road we went. It seems that once past Rock Canyon Campground, the high mountain dirt road gets no maintenance. The road was full of rocks and deep ruts. A few places had holes as big as our car. It wasn't anything my 4Runner couldn't handle, we just had to drive slowly - often as slow as two miles an hour. It took us a couple hours to get from the beginning of the road to the trailhead.

Cascade Mountain, viewed from the Provo Peak trailhead.

Not long after beginning our climb, we found an unattended campfire. This is the second time in a week I've found campfires abandoned yet still burning in the mountains! And it's fire season. We didn't have enough water to put the fire out, so we dug up a lot of dirt and threw that on the fire until it stopped smoking.

Cascade Mountain, as seen from farther up the ridge.

The trail to the peak is not very good in some places. It's steep and full of loose rocks. Three times I left the trail and found my own way up the mountain for a while because the trail was so difficult and unsafe.

The higher we climbed, the hazier the weather became. I wonder if the haze was possibly from wildfires burning in other parts of the West. By the time we reached the 11,068 ft. high peak, the haze largely obscured the distant views we had hoped to see. The climb was still well worth it though! 

This was the fourth time I've climbed Provo Peak, and it's been a long time since the time before. I took a few photos from the top before we began our hike back down. The sun set before we were halfway down the mountainside. We made it to the trailhead, and the 4Runner, with the help of my flashlight. 

Hazy view of Cascade Mountain from the top of Provo Peak.

The view toward East Peak.

Looking southward from the peak along the main ridge.

The view ESE.

Looking down Slate Canyon to Utah Lake. 

The view from the top, toward Mt. Nebo.