More Travels 4-Geo Adjustments

Geological Adjustments

An early morning sun bathes the high plateau.

In spite of the disastrous flooding in the eastern part of the state, area called the Front Range, this part of Colorado is beautiful. Temperatures at 8:00 a.m. registered in the high 60's with bright sun and puffy fair weather clouds.
How ironic that it was flooding that wore away the Uncompahgre Uplift, part of the greater Colorado Plateau, high above the surrounding terrain millions of years ago. Now the canyons are cut deeper by water, wind and frost.
"We got four and a half inches of rain last week," said the night clerk at the motel, "but it didn't come all at once."
"I guess that's why parches of clay in the run-offs look a tiny bit damp," I told Andy as we re-entered Colorado National Monument this morning.

A spectacular cluster of monoliths
hide the Devil's Kitchen.

Two hours later we returned to our little Black Ford Focus in the parking lot of the Devil's Kitchen Trail. This challenging climb into the back country of sandstone cliffs rewarded us with majestic views and tiny wonders. The formations rise from the canyon floor like sky-scrapers in stone. Last week's rain heightened the color variation in the rock strata and forced thousands of wild flowers into late bloom. We clambered up a monolith wall, scaled a cliff and scooted on our butts over boulders the size of trailers.

 

From the interior of Devil's Kitchen
we frame a window of magnificence.

Pinion jays called overhead from tree to tree, and we heard the screech of a bird of prey, either a red tail hawk or a golden eagle. Retirement Trip #4 was in full swing. 

Ute Indians relish the fruit of the
prickly pear cactus.

Cold Shivers Point, at more than 6,198 feet, overlooked Columbus Canyon. An illustrative sign showed a van being lifted from the canyon via helicopter cables. "Don't litter," warned the sign.
"Who would litter with a van?" I asked Andy.
"Stolen car," he responded.
Guess I don't have a criminal mind!
Upper Monument Canyon Trailhead took us to Coke Ovens. The half-mile trail downhill overlooked rock formations with caps that resembled gigantic stoves with pipe exhausts. The half-mile back was all uphill. In spite of the climb, we felt the deep solitude of the remote canyon.
"We only have one more long trail for today," said Andy about 11:30 a.m. He wanted to climb the CCC Trail up to the junction with the Black Ridge Trail on the very top of the ridge.
"I'll bet you can see Utah from the top!" he exclaimed.
We set out; I labored as fast as I could behind him until near the top we reached an open high dessert meadow strewn with rocks. Then the drops started.

Clouds move in during our mid-afternoon hike.

Heavy black clouds rolled overhead. We hurried back to a tiny overhang of ledge, sat down in the sandy rubble and waited.
"I'm only concerned about the camera and phone," I told him. "It doesn't matter if I get wet." But hardly a drop hit the ground -- until we headed back down. Then for a minute the sky opened up. By then the camera was safely stashed inside my windbreaker in the backpack and the phone was encased in a plastic baggie. A little rain never hurt anyone!
In the Visitor Center, Ranger Margaret joked with us about the weather and Tracie started the two 12-minute videos: first, the geology of the Colorado Plateau and then, a pictorial essay about the park. We learned that it has taken millions of years to carve the many massive rock spires, huge domes, balanced rocks, arches, windows, stone pedestals and sheer-walled canyons that make up the scenic splendor of Colorado National Monument
"Did you bring the rain?" asked Margaret before we left. "Predictions were for sun all day."
But once we headed outside the Visitor Center, a steady downpour set in.

A touching bronze reminds
visitors to the Vietnam
War Memorial in Fruita
of the sacrifices of
servicemen and women.

While we browsed in the Colorado State Visitor Center in Fruita, the weather front shifted east. Travel Counselor Sylvia chatted with us about the town, her husband's origins in Vermont, our travels, as we sipped her freshly brewed coffee. "Retirees come to this area for the beauty," she said. "For some, the huge homes on the hillsides could be a fourth or fifth dwelling, and building costs in Fruita are more reasonable than they are in Grand Junction."
We picked up travel brochures and a restaurant guide.
Just outside was the Colorado Western Slope Vietnam War Memorial Park, a special tribute to the men and women who served in the U.S. Armed Forces from 1959 to 1075.

Balanced Rock stands as a testament
to the artistry of wind and water.

Back in the park, we stopped for photos at Balanced Rock, a monolith and boulder created by the whims of natural erosion. After 10,000 years, it now lives on borrowed time.
The one mile Alcove Natural Trail wasn't a circular trail after all. The easy mile-long path wound back into a blind canyon with hundred-foot circular walls.
"I wouldn't want to be in here during a downpour," said Andy.
But with sun peeking through overhead, the cove was gorgeous.

Alcove Nature Trail,
aptly named, has plenty of
protective shelves
carved by rushing water. 

Jack rabbits hopped across our path, darting out from under pinion pine rubble and hiding under spreading branches of a low-growing Utah juniper, as we headed back toward the parking area.
At Echo Canyon, Andy experimented with sounds. All the barks, chirps, howls and whoops reverberated for two seconds against the circular rock walls, that had been carved by runoff in flood seasons. The only evidence today was a tiny stream along the canyon floor.

Skies clear for a last afternoon visit along the Rim Rock Drive.

                         Clouds built and cleared, as we headed back to Grand Junction for the evening.
"It doesn't know what it wants to do," said Andy.
But it wasn't raining, and the sun was out.