Monsoon Part 1

When it rains out here in our semi-arid environment, it is an event. It is also an opportunity for a unique 'Light' which paints the landscape in an ever-changing palette. The scene I was looking for was a late afternoon sky with a 'Disneyesque thunderstorm off in the distance, accentuating the majestic natural architecture of Canyonlands National Park'. What I found was the angry Canyon Gods out for a lark, mocking the desert heat.

Science Interlude: deserts can be hot and dry, cold, coastal, and semi-arid

I'd been watching the sky and weather map all day from home for a dull white cloud cover to break up. I spent time assembling a CFexpress card while occasionally refreshing the Weather map floating in the corner of my screen. Building the card wasn't going to plan because the thermal paste I'd pulled out of a drawer was somewhat aged. It was more like chewed bubble gum rather than the peanut butter consistency it should have been. When I finally came out of my 'fog of focus' and got the final micro screw into the case, I looked at the map and then out the window. The satellite overlay showed openings in the cloud cover over Moab, and we had patches of blue Sky here in the Grand Valley. Quick as the wind, I rose with a clatter. I sprang from my chair... You can fill in the rest.

I generally take my 1997 Toyota T100 on my photo hunts, but I knew I'd be home late and didn't want to unload the truck at night in the dark. I don't want to tempt anyone by leaving my gear out, so I always unload when I get home. This time, since it was an evening trip, the 4Runner was free, so I loaded up. When I got home, I could pull into the garage, creep into bed, and not wake the wife and cat.

Author's Note: You will eventually realize that if you follow this blog, the T100 is a character in these adventures.

I quickly loaded up the tripod case, camera gear case, sound equipment bag, Ecoflow batteries, and my Bag 'o' Radios. I was heading to Canyonlands National Park, specifically to Island in the Sky, and trying my luck at one of my several favorite overlooks. I put some ice in the water bottle, and I was off.

The 'celestial tapestry' was playing with my head on this trip, as the number 40 kept showing up that evening. I rounded the last traffic circle and headed down the I-70 ramp. Zeroed the odometer and checked the clock; it was 4:40 PM. After I had done the 'eighty miles at eighty miles per hour' across Utah, and made the run down Utah 191, through the canyons, up the switchbacks, and finally reached the Canyonlands National Park identity sign, there it was again, '6:40'.

Author's Note: It's a little further than 80 miles to run across Utah when I leave Colorado, though it is a usable description, in my chimeric delusional way, of getting to Utah 191 and heading down to Moab.

I made a stop just south of the Moab Airport to try and take a shot of some rocks off to the West that were being lit up by the low Sun reaching through the clouds. Still, by the time I found a place to pull over, set up the tripod, and check the camera settings, the best of the light had already passed. I took a quick shot with the wide-angle lens, and it looks like that will edit up nicely. I took a few more bracketed shots at 400 mm, but the light had faded, so I reloaded the 4Runner and headed down 191 toward the road into Canyonlands.

...and another image of rocks.

The entrance to Canyonlands is located on Utah 131 at the Utah Giants roadside attraction. I might describe it as a 'great place to take kids during ill-planned ultra-hot July Vacations in Moab,' but then again, I haven't been there, so I won't. I'll leave it at that.

Book recommendations: Another Roadside Attraction, Tim Robbins.

There, they can see a life-size simulacra of our majestic imaginary Dinosaurs herded into a fenced-in walkway. From the roadside, I can't see any feathers on the fiberglass models. Still, they are as realistic as the miniature toys that live in every toy shop. I always tell myself to stop and take a look around. Now that I'm writing narratives of my photo wanderings, it will be an investment. There is real  a dinosaur track site just across the road from the 'Giants'. So, if you are there, do both, early in the morning when it is still cool, especially if you are on a July Trip with the kids. There are track sites all over this area. You could have an entire vacation visiting track sites and see the rest of the Colorado Uplift along the way. If I see interest I'll post about that.

Moving past the 'Giants', Utah 131 passes through a canyon of Entrada Sandstone, towering on either side, and then proceeds up through some switchbacks before emerging onto the flats of the Island in the Sky mesa.

Science Interlude: The red sandstone that forms the Island in the Sky escarpment is Entrata Sandstone. Wikipedia: The Entrada Sandstone is a formation in the San Rafael Group found in the U.S. states of Wyoming, Colorado, northwest New Mexico, northeast Arizona, and southeast Utah. Part of the Colorado Plateau, this formation was deposited during the Jurassic Period, approximately 180 to 140 million years ago, in various environments, including tidal mudflats, beaches, and sand dunes. The Middle Jurassic San Rafael Group was dominantly deposited as ergs (sand seas) in a desert environment around the shallow Sundance Sea.

My mind's eye vision of the Disneyesque thunderstorm had begun fading away as I drove down 191.  When I turned off I-70, the Sky was still around 20% blue, but I could see a storm was moving over the escarpment off in the distance. I had made that short stop near the airport to try to catch some light, and could see that the Sky over the mesas ahead was all stormy, but I was close, so I committed to going up to Island in the Sky. As I traveled onward, I passed the Canyonlands National Park arrowhead sign. 

Collect National Park sign pictures. Trade them with your friends.

I pulled out my entrance pass and driver's license, wanting to be ready. The booth Rangers can get a bit testy waiting for you to fumble in your wallet. I stopped at the Rangers Booth, but the Rangers were gone for the evening and had closed up. I showed my pass to the sign taped to the window and headed into the park.

At this point, I was in the clouds. The storm I had been watching was now around me. Visibility was still good, not foggy, just a low ceiling. If there are breaks in the clouds, you can catch some bright, clean light. Though the evening light was just a cast of grey through the clouds. There was a stiff breeze, up to buffeting level, with light rain, but that lasted only a few seconds at a time. I was committed. Onward.

I decided to drive over to the Green River Overlook to see what was happening down in the canyons. There, the setting sun would be off to my right. West for those who know where the Sun sets in their neighborhood. The Green River Overlook is a world-class view, and as I said, I was committed. I'll take what I can get.

I slipped past the 'take your chances campground' and drove down to the parking lot. I call the campground that because it is first-come, first-served, and I've only seen open spots in the Winter. There was just one lonely trailer with its generator running. At the parking area, there was one vehicle. A tan Mercedes Camper Van. They are everywhere out here. While I was getting my gear, another blue Honda sedan drove through, slowed down, and didn't stop. I see that a lot, parking lot pun not intended.

I checked the camera battery and the locks on the tripod legs one more time, then off I go to the overlook. Sling bag with the Z8, the 14-24 mm, and the 100-400 mm.

Note: I'll write a post soon, discussing my photo kit.

Walking over to the overlook, I passed a guy with wild, long hair heading back to the parking lot. I said my usual "how ya doing," but he was somewhere else and didn't acknowledge me. One of those super skinny men, with an extended curly halo around his head. Looked European, which is rare this year.

For some reason, this reminded me I hadn't brought anything for the Ravens. I made a note to put that on my checklist when I got back to the 4Runner. There weren't any around. Too much wind. They hang out at the overlooks looking for tourist dropings. Count your fingers.

Another sedan pulled in, and those people followed me out to the overlook. They took some phone pics of each other, climbed up and down on the rocks, and whooped a bit, looking for an echo. There is little at the Green River Overlook to reflect sound back. The acoustics are wrong there, but everyone tries. Just miles of open desert 1500 ft below you, the mesa escarpment cliffs rounding off a giant amphitheater, and the Green River Canyon cutting the desert off in the distance. There are mesas, buttes, and the Henry Mountains off in the distance, but these were draped in rain sheets, mist, and angry clouds. Low dark clouds moving fast under fists of grey light. I took a cell phone pic, which is my habit, then started unfolding the tripod.

I always take a quick cell phone shot so I'll never go home empty-handed. The tertiary canyon, which cuts into the desert, is where the Green River runs. It meets the Colorado River a little further South of this point. The white rim of that canyon is the White Rim Sandstone, which in this region forms the boundary between the Permian and the Jurassic periods. This marks the Permian Extinction Event, which I'll write about in a future post.

Author's Note: In the distance from the Green River Overlook, you can see the Henry Mountains. This is approximately 55 miles (89 km) as the Raven flies and around 156 miles (251 km) by car, with a travel time of just over 3 hours to reach the West side of Canyonlands.

The Henry Mountains from the Moon View overlook near Hanksville, Utah

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To be continued...

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