"There is a way that nature speaks, that land speaks. Most of the time we are simply not patient enough, quiet enough, to pay attention to the story."...Linda Hogan
In mid-September we took a sightseeing drive to the Rio Grande Reservoir area, driving our SUV as far upstream as allowed, with the major purpose of trying to find/sight the herd of bighorn sheep that our friend Donny recently had photographed. Though we didn't find sheep, it was a very rewarding day, including a stop at Freemon's Ranch for lunch and ice cream. Ah, so that's where those extra pounds came from!
The Rio Grande and the Upper Rio Grande valley, from miles above Creede to South Fork, CO, provide habitat for migrating wild birds of every type. Near the end of the road, following the river upstream and skirting the reservoirs along the way, huge flocks of ducks were cavorting, feeding and resting in the shallows. They were delightful to watch.
The Rio Grande headwaters lie high in the mountains above this point where streams converge @ about 12,800' elevation in Hinsdale County at the base of Canby Mountain, just east of the Continental Divide, then tumble down into the valley several miles above Creede, CO. The river flows at high elevation for much of its great length. Words fail me as I struggle to explain or describe the natural beauty of this valley with its meandering river flow, verdant meadows, rugged rock outcrops, undulating hills, and gigantic stands of golden aspens.
"The last portion of State Highway 149 (aka Silver Thread Highway) between Creede and Lake City was turned into a paved road from a dirt road in 1984."...from RECIPES FROM THE UPPER RIO GRANDE.
I like the little cookbook's more romantic description of the Rio Grande's source: "The Rio Grande River begins in a high snow bank on volcanic Stoney Pass and travels 1885 miles to the Gulf of Mexico." This part of the river system supports ranches (at least one of which has been owned by the same family for 5 generations, for over 100 years), protected wildlife areas and varied recreational pursuits. The bucolic scene of a young couple fishing on a bend of the river on a sunny Sunday afternoon quite adequately demonstrates the magnetic attraction of the area.
By this time of the season the aspens had begun to color here, providing a preview of what we'd later enjoy around Lake City on the other side of Slumgullion Pass.
The Rio Grande, despite its name and length, is never navigable by anything larger than small fishing boats. At 1,885 miles long, it is the fourth-longest river system in the United States, and is said to be the 20th longest river in the world.
The river's place in the history of the settlement of the West and the great cattle drives of that era has been well chronicled, Hollywood style, in several notable Western movies. The common use of the term Rio Grande began with early American settlers in south Texas; it was previously and locally known by several unpronouncable American Indian names meaning Big River, Great Waters, or Female River. It was also known in Mexico as Rio Grande del Norte and Rio Bravo.
"It is not so much for its beauty that the forest makes a claim on men's hearts, as for that subtle something, that quality of air, that emanation from old trees, that so wonderfully changes and renews a weary spirit."....Robert Louis Stevenson
"If you truly love Nature, you will find beauty everywhere."...Vincent Van Gogh. Often when we're experiencing the magnificent landscapes of different areas of the country, I'm reminded of my Mother. When I was quite young we were driving through a very familiar area on a miserable a late winter afternoon when Mom looked out the car window at a plowed field covered with the dirty remnants of an old snowfall, bordered by the ugly, bare trees of a hedgerow and said, "Isn't that beautiful!" I remember thinking she must be nuts. Now when I find myself thinking or speaking the same way, I have to add to Mr. Van Gogh's quote, if you truly love Nature, you SEEK beauty everywhere!
"If the sight of the blue skies fills you with joy, if a blade of grass springing up in the field has power to move you, if the simple things in nature have a message you understand, rejoice, for your soul is alive."...Eleanora Duse
The mountains have received several night snowfalls and down in the valley the rains have been frequent. We Leaf Watchers (we spend weeks watching, as opposed to Leaf Peepers who only see them once in a season) keep up a running chatter about just when is the right time to do our photography. As for me, if it were not for all the editing required after one of these trips, I'd do it three times as often! I never get tired of looking.
Local artist, entrepreneur and active citizen Russ Brown really turned me on to aspens this year. I dropped in to his shop/studio one day, piqued by a short paragraph in one of his very recent newspaper ads. In it Russ spoke of a grove of aspens as an interconnected family of trees. When I talked to Russ about this subject, he described aspens in a way that further whetted my interest, and I did a bit of internet research to satisfy my curiosity. In the following narrative I've used excerpts from various web sites, along with my own observations.
This is our rig, we're preparing for the ride up North Henson Creek & Matterhorn trail, in front of a typical colony of aspens.
"If the sight of the blue skies fills you with joy, if a blade of grass springing up in the field has power to move you, if the simple things in nature have a message you understand, rejoice, for your soul is alive."...Eleanora DuseI hope you enjoy these various quotes from WABI SABI, The Art of Everyday Life, Diane Durston. I talk a bit more about this book in a later segment. Several factual pieces are lifted from Wikipedia; the quoted cookbook is one of my treasures from the summer of 2009.
You may already know..if a particular picture especially appeals to you, double click on it to see a larger version. As the days passed, the nighttime temp's began dropping lower and lower and it was easy to see that our summer sojourn would soon end. Truly, in many ways this is one of the best times to be in Lake City...the town is quiet, emptied of tourists; the RV park is down to a smaller group of folks who have no deadlines back home; the air takes on a weightless quality; the intense mountain sun is welcomed as it gently warms the sides and insides of our trailers; activities (or lack thereof) are more spontaneous, like Marvelous Marv's delicious chili supper (and hats off to Carla as well!); we're saying a lot of "see you next summer;" and a sense of loss sets in as we know in some cases we may never again meet to share these summer adventures.
You may already know..if a particular picture especially appeals to you, double click on it to see a larger version. As the days passed, the nighttime temp's began dropping lower and lower and it was easy to see that our summer sojourn would soon end. Truly, in many ways this is one of the best times to be in Lake City...the town is quiet, emptied of tourists; the RV park is down to a smaller group of folks who have no deadlines back home; the air takes on a weightless quality; the intense mountain sun is welcomed as it gently warms the sides and insides of our trailers; activities (or lack thereof) are more spontaneous, like Marvelous Marv's delicious chili supper (and hats off to Carla as well!); we're saying a lot of "see you next summer;" and a sense of loss sets in as we know in some cases we may never again meet to share these summer adventures.
With the advent of our planned departure date, we set about squeezing in two more ATV rides, with plenty of picture-taking stops, while the aspens are at or near their peak of beauty. The first of these was to North Henson Creek/Matterhorn trail, part of which we'd never done before, and part of which on side trails we have yet to see....next year!
The mountains have received several night snowfalls and down in the valley the rains have been frequent. We Leaf Watchers (we spend weeks watching, as opposed to Leaf Peepers who only see them once in a season) keep up a running chatter about just when is the right time to do our photography. As for me, if it were not for all the editing required after one of these trips, I'd do it three times as often! I never get tired of looking.
Local artist, entrepreneur and active citizen Russ Brown really turned me on to aspens this year. I dropped in to his shop/studio one day, piqued by a short paragraph in one of his very recent newspaper ads. In it Russ spoke of a grove of aspens as an interconnected family of trees. When I talked to Russ about this subject, he described aspens in a way that further whetted my interest, and I did a bit of internet research to satisfy my curiosity. In the following narrative I've used excerpts from various web sites, along with my own observations.Western aspens in the more arid areas tend to grow in pure stands due to their mainly clonal reproductive method, leading to their unique visual cohesiveness in the landscape. With reproduction primarily by means of root suckers sometimes emerging as distant as 30-40 meters from the parent tree, the trees grow in large clonal colonies derived from a single seedling. The clonal nature of colonies, or stands, of aspens leads to virtually identical coloration and shape within a specific grouping or colony.
Each individual tree can live for 40-150 years above ground, but the root system of the colony is long-lived, as much as thousands of years.
This is our rig, we're preparing for the ride up North Henson Creek & Matterhorn trail, in front of a typical colony of aspens.A stand of aspen typically consists of a mosaic of clones, leading to the occasional lovely sight of an aspen grove that features one, or two, or more trees of a bright apricot to russet color, totally surrounded by the more prevalent bright golden leaves of the larger colony.
Aspens do not thrive very well in the shade, and it is difficult for seedlings to grow in an already mature stand. Fire indirectly benefits aspen trees, since it allows the saplings to flourish in open sunlight in the burned area.
The characteristic flutter of aspen leaves is the result of stems that are flat in cross-section rather than round. This feature gives them strength in the vertical direction while allowing them to twist flexibly in the wind.
Here we've arrived at the end of the trail on Matterhorn trail--further exploration is limited to walking. We have much more exploring to do on the side trails of this ride next summer.
Aspens have a symbiotic and cyclical relationship with pines & firs. As aspen colonies mature and become thick, saplings do not survive in the heavy shade and eventually the mature trees die off, leaving the root system intact and supporting the few saplings that have survived. In the meantime, pine & fir seedlings have thrived in the protection of the mature aspens and eventually the aspen stand is populated primarily by the conifers. Eventually the conifers meet their demise, usually when a lightning strike ignites a fire, and the cycle repeats itself. The aspen root system now produces more suckers, they grow quickly in the open landscape and form a new, visible colony.
Aspens do not thrive very well in the shade, and it is difficult for seedlings to grow in an already mature stand. Fire indirectly benefits aspen trees, since it allows the saplings to flourish in open sunlight in the burned area.
The characteristic flutter of aspen leaves is the result of stems that are flat in cross-section rather than round. This feature gives them strength in the vertical direction while allowing them to twist flexibly in the wind.
Here we've arrived at the end of the trail on Matterhorn trail--further exploration is limited to walking. We have much more exploring to do on the side trails of this ride next summer.
Aspens have a symbiotic and cyclical relationship with pines & firs. As aspen colonies mature and become thick, saplings do not survive in the heavy shade and eventually the mature trees die off, leaving the root system intact and supporting the few saplings that have survived. In the meantime, pine & fir seedlings have thrived in the protection of the mature aspens and eventually the aspen stand is populated primarily by the conifers. Eventually the conifers meet their demise, usually when a lightning strike ignites a fire, and the cycle repeats itself. The aspen root system now produces more suckers, they grow quickly in the open landscape and form a new, visible colony.Russ tells me that he can observe this phenomenon by looking out his studio window at the aspen colony atop the mountain across the town, across the river, and up, up, up on the ridge. He says the colony is receding in size, will someday revert to conifers, and then back to aspens again--not in OUR lifetime, though!
Late summer in the mountains--a small stream bubbles downhill, a ribbon of silver on the left, feeding the puddle which quietly reflects clouds, sky & tree near the end of North Henson Creek trail.
Late summer in the mountains--a small stream bubbles downhill, a ribbon of silver on the left, feeding the puddle which quietly reflects clouds, sky & tree near the end of North Henson Creek trail. "The world is mud-lucious and puddle-wonderful." E. E. Cummings
We're totally alone here today, and feel itty bitty in the midst of these towering trees, steep mountainsides blanketed with aspen colonies, and mountaintop ridges edged with the first snows of autumn.
There's something beautiful to see at every glance and we're reluctant to leave. The prospect of getting caught in the impending cold afternoon rains pushes us to move on.
We stop to examine the Wilderness map and talk about new adventures to tackle in 2010.
The mountain meadows throughout the Wilderness are widely used by sheepherders during the summer months. Their guardian dogs are real pro's, and can view humans as just another predator. These signs are posted at many of the trailheads to warn visitors about how to conduct themselves in the presence of these working dogs and their charges.
The skies suddenly clear temporarily and the landscape brightens. I talk Edmund out of his cap long enough to get a pic of him where for once we can actually see his face!
My hooded sweatshirt and comfortable jeans (meaning they're roomy enough to sit on the ATV seat for extended rides without binding and also will accommodate a light layer underneath) are perfect for today's on again, off again sunshine. We often start out with 3 layers and end with only 1 on...the rest go into the ATV's storage box behind the passenger seat.
Back to the aspen story. The largest and oldest known colony or clone is the "Pando" (Latin for I spread) clone, located in the Fishlake National Forest in southern Utah. It is over 100 acres in size contains more than 47,000 individual stems, and is said to weigh more than 14 million lb. It has been aged at 80,000 years. That must be quite a sight at this time of year! More commonly, clones age to 5-10,000 years.
It's an easy mental jump to the realization that these immense root systems are actually holding the landscape in place throughout the regions where the underground structure survives below the heat of the fires, helping to prevent massive erosion by quickly sending out new shoots which grow as much as a meter per growing season initially. Aspens easily out compete other species which must regenerate from seed, and since they need full sun, they actually depend on periodic disturbance such as fire, avalanche for clone survival.
We're totally alone here today, and feel itty bitty in the midst of these towering trees, steep mountainsides blanketed with aspen colonies, and mountaintop ridges edged with the first snows of autumn.
There's something beautiful to see at every glance and we're reluctant to leave. The prospect of getting caught in the impending cold afternoon rains pushes us to move on.
We stop to examine the Wilderness map and talk about new adventures to tackle in 2010.
The mountain meadows throughout the Wilderness are widely used by sheepherders during the summer months. Their guardian dogs are real pro's, and can view humans as just another predator. These signs are posted at many of the trailheads to warn visitors about how to conduct themselves in the presence of these working dogs and their charges.
The skies suddenly clear temporarily and the landscape brightens. I talk Edmund out of his cap long enough to get a pic of him where for once we can actually see his face!
My hooded sweatshirt and comfortable jeans (meaning they're roomy enough to sit on the ATV seat for extended rides without binding and also will accommodate a light layer underneath) are perfect for today's on again, off again sunshine. We often start out with 3 layers and end with only 1 on...the rest go into the ATV's storage box behind the passenger seat.
Back to the aspen story. The largest and oldest known colony or clone is the "Pando" (Latin for I spread) clone, located in the Fishlake National Forest in southern Utah. It is over 100 acres in size contains more than 47,000 individual stems, and is said to weigh more than 14 million lb. It has been aged at 80,000 years. That must be quite a sight at this time of year! More commonly, clones age to 5-10,000 years.
It's an easy mental jump to the realization that these immense root systems are actually holding the landscape in place throughout the regions where the underground structure survives below the heat of the fires, helping to prevent massive erosion by quickly sending out new shoots which grow as much as a meter per growing season initially. Aspens easily out compete other species which must regenerate from seed, and since they need full sun, they actually depend on periodic disturbance such as fire, avalanche for clone survival. Interestingly, another species more familiar to our Arizona desert dwellers, has the same characteristic of clonal survival and ancient specimens (as much as 11,000 years old): our "perfume of the desert" creosote!
An example of that one vivid russet aspen surrounded by the more typical golden trees. We find that the aspens south of Slumgullion Pass, through the Upper Rio Grande valley, are significantly more orange/apricot/russet than those north of the pass and around Lake City, where a lighter yellow and brilliant gold are more common.
Like these along the road which follows Henson Creek upstream.
Our last ATV ride of the season was a return to Nellie Creek trail, an area of much natural beauty that is even more attractive at this early autumn season and where I'd hoped to get some very nice photos when the aspens peaked.
The storm fronts which brought the pure white early snows had begun to make the trees shed their leaves as well.
Extra clothing layers were welcome in the shaded spots along the trail, where icy crystals of combined sleet & snow have already accumulated and sparkle like an accidental spill of faceted glass beads.
The air this morning is exceptionally clear, the sky a deep, intense blue, and we're feeling a bit nostalgic, even sad, to be on our last ATV ride for this summer.
We linger and stare even longer at sights that are by now familiar landmarks, made brand new to our eyes by the snowfall and brilliant fall sun.
Nellie Creek falls, earlier surrounded by lush green foliage, is now framed by greens, golds and reds and gleams brighter in the more open sunlight now that many of the trees have been stripped of their leaves. Only the gush of the falls and a slight flutter in the remaining leaves break the silence where we stop for this one last photo.
An example of that one vivid russet aspen surrounded by the more typical golden trees. We find that the aspens south of Slumgullion Pass, through the Upper Rio Grande valley, are significantly more orange/apricot/russet than those north of the pass and around Lake City, where a lighter yellow and brilliant gold are more common.
Like these along the road which follows Henson Creek upstream.
Our last ATV ride of the season was a return to Nellie Creek trail, an area of much natural beauty that is even more attractive at this early autumn season and where I'd hoped to get some very nice photos when the aspens peaked.
The storm fronts which brought the pure white early snows had begun to make the trees shed their leaves as well.
Extra clothing layers were welcome in the shaded spots along the trail, where icy crystals of combined sleet & snow have already accumulated and sparkle like an accidental spill of faceted glass beads.
The air this morning is exceptionally clear, the sky a deep, intense blue, and we're feeling a bit nostalgic, even sad, to be on our last ATV ride for this summer.
We linger and stare even longer at sights that are by now familiar landmarks, made brand new to our eyes by the snowfall and brilliant fall sun.
Nellie Creek falls, earlier surrounded by lush green foliage, is now framed by greens, golds and reds and gleams brighter in the more open sunlight now that many of the trees have been stripped of their leaves. Only the gush of the falls and a slight flutter in the remaining leaves break the silence where we stop for this one last photo."See how nature--trees, flowers, grass--grows in silence; see the stars, the moon and the sun, how they move in silence. We need silence to be able to touch souls."....Mother Teresa.
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We made a speedy departure from Henson Creek RV Park to get ahead of a predicted snow storm on the mountain passes. One morning in late September we awoke to a dire forecast of high elevation snow & ice, we had cloudy skies and 20 degrees outside,...looked at one another and said, "Let's pack up and go." We left four hours later, a record speed, and as we approached the Lake San Cristobal overlook we stopped for one last view of the new snow on the mountains.
I skirted ice puddles as I followed the path upward to the traditional photo op spot above the lake. Alone there in the morning stillness I once again felt insignificant in the presence of the beauty surrounding me, and in the weak sunlight of that cloudy morn this very familiar scene took on an ethereal quality.
Just as I arrived back at the parking area and turned for a final glance toward Lake City, the sun illuminated the peak of Uncompahgre way out there in the distance, blanketed with new snow, looking for all the world like the top of a marble monument as it glimmered brightly behind the shadows and colors of the hillside between.
We were motivated to stop at Windy Point for a different view of the San Juans, dominated from this vantage point by Uncompahgre. By this time the clouds were gathering heavier, the wind was chilling our fingers and the light was dimming with the cloud cover, but several photographers were in place, hoping for that one great shot of this majestic mountain.
Views like this AND the hot weather in Arizona are what motivate us to remain in LC well into September. With most of the summer residents now gone, September's a quiet time, an even slower pace, a time to reminisce a little and treasure the joy of being able to once again spend our summer months in this mountain valley.
Our drive home was uneventful, we escaped any serious weather problems. As we topped Wolf Creek Pass we both saw a snow cloud looming ahead, but as we progressed down the pass the cloud was struck by the sun and looked like sparkling fairy dust riding on the breeze, then drifted up the canyons, running and darting like a child playing hide-and-seek and disappeared over the horizon. A beautiful and fitting ending to a wonderful summer in this spot sometimes described as "Lake City: somewhere between Heaven and Gunnison."
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Last winter my Debbie sent us a very small book entitled WABI SABI, The Art of Everyday Life. It traveled to Colorado with us, and during the summer I often mulled over the words of wisdom it contains. This little book reemerged when we unpacked papers & boxes, and I found myself drawn back to those words of wisdom.
For example, Juan Ramon Jiminez said, "A permanent state of transition is man's most noble condition."
I ponder this and am reminded of the old saying, "The only constant in life is change." Indeed, we find ourselves in constant transition...both because of our advancing age and because of the lifestyle we pursue. Though we remain healthy, still the age-related transitions feel exponential in their speed and impact. Right now, with the transition from our summer respite in Colorado back to Arizona, we reminisce about & appreciate even more what we've left behind, and we remember how we felt the same way as we transitioned last June from Vistoso Village to Henson Creek RV Park.
I ponder this and am reminded of the old saying, "The only constant in life is change." Indeed, we find ourselves in constant transition...both because of our advancing age and because of the lifestyle we pursue. Though we remain healthy, still the age-related transitions feel exponential in their speed and impact. Right now, with the transition from our summer respite in Colorado back to Arizona, we reminisce about & appreciate even more what we've left behind, and we remember how we felt the same way as we transitioned last June from Vistoso Village to Henson Creek RV Park.
We made a speedy departure from Henson Creek RV Park to get ahead of a predicted snow storm on the mountain passes. One morning in late September we awoke to a dire forecast of high elevation snow & ice, we had cloudy skies and 20 degrees outside,...looked at one another and said, "Let's pack up and go." We left four hours later, a record speed, and as we approached the Lake San Cristobal overlook we stopped for one last view of the new snow on the mountains.
I skirted ice puddles as I followed the path upward to the traditional photo op spot above the lake. Alone there in the morning stillness I once again felt insignificant in the presence of the beauty surrounding me, and in the weak sunlight of that cloudy morn this very familiar scene took on an ethereal quality.
Just as I arrived back at the parking area and turned for a final glance toward Lake City, the sun illuminated the peak of Uncompahgre way out there in the distance, blanketed with new snow, looking for all the world like the top of a marble monument as it glimmered brightly behind the shadows and colors of the hillside between.
We were motivated to stop at Windy Point for a different view of the San Juans, dominated from this vantage point by Uncompahgre. By this time the clouds were gathering heavier, the wind was chilling our fingers and the light was dimming with the cloud cover, but several photographers were in place, hoping for that one great shot of this majestic mountain.
Views like this AND the hot weather in Arizona are what motivate us to remain in LC well into September. With most of the summer residents now gone, September's a quiet time, an even slower pace, a time to reminisce a little and treasure the joy of being able to once again spend our summer months in this mountain valley.Our drive home was uneventful, we escaped any serious weather problems. As we topped Wolf Creek Pass we both saw a snow cloud looming ahead, but as we progressed down the pass the cloud was struck by the sun and looked like sparkling fairy dust riding on the breeze, then drifted up the canyons, running and darting like a child playing hide-and-seek and disappeared over the horizon. A beautiful and fitting ending to a wonderful summer in this spot sometimes described as "Lake City: somewhere between Heaven and Gunnison."
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