During my recent travels, I took several sequential sets of photographs from which to generate wide-angle panoramas. Today I spent some time stitching them together. If you would like to see them in all their glory you will need to click on the image once to open in a new window and then click on it again to zoom in allowing you pan around the scene.
As much as I enjoyed my recent travel to Nevada, California, Utah, and Arizona, I regretted not being able to attend Maya’s first Nordic ski race. Fortunately, one of the other parents did a great job documenting the competition and shared these photos taken last week. Despite being relatively new to the sport, Maya was elected a co-captain of the team.
When you mention Las Vegas and wildlife in the same sentence one does not generally conjure up images of the type in today’s post. My red-eye flight to Boston did not leave until 10PM giving me the better part of the day to go on a wildlife safari.
I had planned to be playing soccer today but with yesterday’s elimination from the King’s Cup I found myself with an unexpected free day. I decided to head over to the Mojave National Preserve, about a 90 minute drive from Vegas. At 1,600,000 acres it is the third largest unit of the National Park System in the contiguous United States. It contains the largest and densest Joshua Tree forest in the world, the Kelso Sand Dunes, and numerous volcanic formations.
Failure to path plan before arriving caused me to hike an additional 4 miles in search of the lava tube pictured below. The first image is of the entrance which is a rather tight fit and requires some scrambling to gain entry. It eventually opens up into a main chamber which is partially illuminated by light entering through holes in the ceiling. The final image is of one of those openings viewed from the outside looking down. Stepping into one of these would not end well and hiking in this area needs to be done carefully.
The winning outcomes Boston United experienced yesterday were not to be duplicated today. Our first game ended in a 1-1 tie and our second in a 0-1 loss which eliminated us from the tournament before tomorrow’s semi-finals. The torture I endured during my massage yesterday appears to have been worthwhile. I was able to play in both matches and did not do any further damage to my hamstring. I have little doubt that the team we lost to will go on to win the tournament. They were last year’s champions and simply a more skillful side than ours. Despite the loss, it is very satisfying to be competing in soccer of this caliber and to be doing so on a perfect day on a pitch nestled at the base of the mountains which surround Las Vegas.
The motivating reason for my trip to Las Vegas was to compete in the King’s Cup soccer tournament with a team of fellow Bostonians. In addition to a couple of guys that I normally play with on Concord United, the team includes members from teams I normally compete against. Although we have a nice collection of talent, we lack the cohesiveness on display from teams who have played together for years. Nonetheless, we managed two come-from-behind wins (2-1 and 2-1) to end the first day of bracket play in very good standing. I tweaked my left hamstring and decided to sit out the second half of the second game. Later, I joined several teammates for a Thai massage (masseuse walks on you with her feet) after the game. My massage was customized to help rejuvenate my hamstring. I had never experienced such pain and was so nauseous afterward that I threw up when I returned to the hotel. Time will tell whether the “muscle therapy” was worth the pain.
Originally created for the 2010 Burning Man Festival by artist Marco Cochrane and his team, the four-ton, forty-foot-tall naked dancer now stands in front of the Monte Carlo. It is a stunning work of art that looks even better from the ground than from my hotel room window.
I spent the afternoon with my soccer team, Boston United, to review tournament logistics and for a very welcome light practice.
There is no way to sugar coat my feelings about Las Vegas. It is simply a city I do not care for. I don’t drink, I don’t gamble, I don’t appreciate veneered beauty. I can’t help but look past the glitz and glamour to the sadness I see everywhere. On an extended walk this afternoon, I encountered a quotation by Ralph Waldo Emerson which really caused me to stop and think. At first I thought about all the magnificent sights I had witnessed during the prior week. Then I thought about the scene pictured above. I am really looking forward to playing soccer but can’t wait to be out of this place.
I dined at the Hard Rock Cafe across from the Monte Carlo where my team is staying (a healthy salad, for the record) and found the interior lighting to be quite interesting.
I returned from the desert to “civilization” today. It is time to start transitioning from photographic adventure mode to soccer competition mode (my teammates start arriving tomorrow for our tournament this weekend). More importantly, my limited set of clothing was in dire need of laundering. I am staying at “the D Las Vegas” which I secured for a rate of $21 plus taxes. My campsite in Death Valley cost $22. Go figure! The hotel is quite nice, located just off of famous Fremont Street. At one end you will find the Heart Attack Grill with a scale at the door to weigh patrons. What does the success of this establishment say about our country? Two minutes after the dimly lit fellow pictured below entered the restaurant, another erupted in a full-volume expletive rant when he tipped the scale at a mere 335 pounds.
Badwater Basin was my first destination this morning. It is an endorheic basin (closed drainage basin that retains water) located 282 feet below sea level, the lowest point in North America. Rain water that is captured here evaporates quickly leaving behind salt deposits in the most fascinating structures and patterns. After returning to Furnace Creek for breakfast, I took off for my main destination, the Racetrack Playa. I stopped frequently along the way including at the 1/2 mile wide Ubehebe Crater to capture scenes of particular interest.
After the Ubehebe Crater it is another 27 miles to the Racetrack along a bone-jarring, teeth-rattling gravel/rock road with an interesting intersection at the 20-mile mark for Teakettle Junction.
The Racetrack is so named for its sailing stones. Slabs of dolomite and syenite ranging from a few hundred grams to hundreds of pounds inscribe visible linear tracks as they slide across the playa surface, without human or animal intervention. Instead, rocks move when ice sheets just a few millimeters thick start to melt during periods of light wind. Unfortunately, the salt flat was recently vandalized by some moron who drove onto the pristine dry lake bed and made donuts with their car. I am a peaceful man, but if I were to encounter the cretin who did this I would not hesitate to carve similar lines into his face. It will take decades for nature to erase these tracks.
A check of the weather report this morning suggested that Death Valley National Park would be spared from the massive storm system that is pummeling much of the West coast. The drive there took me past the Hoover Dam where I was compelled to stop; it is both an engineering marvel and work of art.
Memorial Bridge and the US 93 Bypass were completed six years ago. Prior to that, all traffic was carried over the crest of the dam. The new bridge is quite impressive in its own right, built using the same arch and pillar design that can be found on the bridge over the dam’s massive spillway.
While continuing my drive to DVNP, I encountered a herd of about twenty long horn sheep grazing by the side of the highway. It turns out that they prefer munching on the well-maintained border grass than climbing all over the cliffs in search of food. Dozens of other motorists stopped for pictures as well. Eventually, a police cruiser showed up and chased the sheep back towards their natural habitat. Not every day you see a police car herding sheep. I shot a video of the rather comical affair and may post it when I return from traveling.
The weather at my destination, as predicted, was relatively warm with clear skies. Winds, however, were gusting to 40 mph so I pitched my tent behind a small outcropping of trees, aligning it with the wind direction so as to minimize the chance of being blown into the desert like a tumbleweed.
Slot canyons have always held a special place in my heart. Years ago I visited Upper Antelope Canyon, arguably one of the most amazing examples on Earth. Today I ventured into Lower Antelope Canyon which is every bit as amazing. Overcast skies made for less than optimal lighting but every now and then the sun would find a hole in the clouds and the canyon would glow.
Pictured below is what the canyon looks like from the top. Many sections are so narrow that only one person can pass at a time.
I emerged from the canyon just before noon and checked the weather to determine my next destination. The Grand Canyon South Rim looked clear so I made a beeline for the park hoping to arrive in time for some decent evening light. My effort was rewarded and I made the best of the 2 hours I had to work with.
With a major storm approaching from the Pacific, I have decided to abandon initial plans to move northwards towards Bryce and instead am making my way east towards Page, AZ. Temperatures remained below freezing all day which actually facilitated hiking to the Toadstool Hoodoos which was my first stop. Most people come here for the star attraction, pictured above, but I found many other gems by exploring some of the more isolated and inaccessible nooks and crannies.
Lake Powell was created by the Glen Canyon Dam which is a most impressive bit of engineering. Equally magnificent is the adjacent bridge which spans the Colorado River.
My second3-milee hike of the day took me down to the river’s edge where I found many beautiful rock formations and total solitude.
My final destination for the day was Horseshoe Bend. Even though I have been here several times before, I am awestruck each time I step to the cliff’s edge (OK, I actually crawl on my belly due to my fear of falling). I am so jealous of all the tourists who simply walk along the edge snapping photos as if on a stroll through their living room. I am amazed that more do not wind up at the bottom of the canyon. The only way I can take photos here is with my camera mounted on a tripod. From my prone position, I trigger the 10s timer and extend the assembly horizontally over the edge for an unobstructed view of the entire bend. It took a little trial and error, but I am happy with the result.
The North Coyote Buttes are most famous for a rock formation known as the Wave. It is a scene on every landscape photographer’s bucket list. Today my dream to visit this breathtakingly beautiful location came true. Snow overnight only enhanced the splendor. I partner hiked with a young woman named Jordan, the only other solo hiker winning yesterday’s lottery. The icy “trail” conditions, sub-zero temperatures, and challenging route finding on the 9.5-mile hike made the pairing a smart idea. Of the twenty lottery winners we were the first to arrive at the Wave and were rewarded with virgin snow. Jordan shares my interest in photography and the outdoors and was kind enough to take several pictures of me.
Although the Wave is arguably the jewel in the North Coyote Buttes, it is by no means the only spectacular geographic feature. We spent close to 7 hours exploring the area and would have remained for longer if not for the small matter of getting back before dark.
When we arrived this morning the temperature was 18F and the dirt road to the trailhead was frozen facilitating a relatively easy traverse. Not so as we were departing. With temperature just a tad above freezing the road had degraded into a muddy mess. The 8-mile exit journey was easily the most dangerous part of our day and that is saying something considering we “tobogganed” down a steep slope when we ran out of all other viable options for descent. The Jeep Renegade 4×4 I rented certainly earned its keep today.
