Wednesday, October 29, 2014

Natural Bridges National Monument was only 65 miles from Monticello, UT and was probably as close as we would be in quite a while, so we took another road trip.  As we got ready, Sam sensed the impending departure and flashed those big puppy dog eyes to make sure he was not left behind.

In the Visitor's Center was the biggest public telescope I have seen in any park to date.  It was a 16.5-inch Starmaster Dobsonian.  Sadly, they quit star programs since it was getting too cold at night.  I noticed the park was a Gold Tier member in the International Dark Sky Association.  It would be difficult to imagine better observing conditions than we had last month at Goblin Valley State Park, but it would have been nice to see first hand. 

Bridges form differently than arches.  They are a direct result of erosion by a river making them a lot less common.  There were three bridges, each with its own overlook and trails.  We tried to get to all three as quickly as we could before doing any hiking.  First was Sipapu spanning 268 feet with a maximum height of 220 feet.  At its minimum point, the bridge was 31 feet wide and 53 feet thick.  The light was entirely too harsh to get any really nice pictures.  It almost disappeared into the background.

We could have hiked to the bottom (1.2 miles round trip), but Sam could not.  He was only allowed on paved areas which included overlooks.

Next was Kachina.  It was a little smaller spanning 204 feet with a height of 210 feet.  You can see it has been a while since there was any water flowing under this bridge.

Again, we could have hiked to the bottom (1.4 miles round trip), but Sam said "no".

When we got back to the car, there was a crazy raven perched on our rearview mirror.  He was vexed by rivals in every direction.  From his position, he was seeing his reflection in the side window, the windshield and, when he looked down, the rearview mirror.  He nearly wore himself out pecking at each reflection, barely taking note of our approach.

Sam approaching the car didn't even phase him.

I was afraid he was doing damage to the car, but no, not a bit.

The last bridge was not the largest, but it was probably the best known.  Certainly, it had the easiest access (shortest trail). Owachomo spanned 180 feet at a height of 106 feet.  It was the thinnest by far in both width (27 feet) and thickness (9 feet).

This bridge looked so much bigger than the first two, but only because it was so close to the overlook.

We left Sam in the car (it was a pretty cool day) and hiked to the bottom (0.4 miles round trip - 180-foot elevation change).

This is the backside of Owachomo Bridge (after we hiked through the bridge and across the dry creek bed, looking back).

A short distance to one side, the creek had a few puddles.

Maybe puddle is the wrong word - "small ponds" would be a better description.

Doesn't David look like a National Geographic photographer on assignment in the unexplored backcountry?

The air was so still, the water became a mirror.

Can you see David?  He was standing directly under the bridge, to give it a little scale.

Another 38 miles further south on highway 261, just outside the park, there was a turn-off for Muley Point.  The 5 miles of dirt road was pretty rough at times and took quite a while to cover, but the view made it worthwhile.

From two thousand feet above the San Juan River, we could easily see why this was named "the goosenecks."  The river flows about 6 miles to cover only 1.5 miles of linear distance.

You could see Monument Valley in the distance, facing south from Muley Point.  We were looking straight into the sun, leaving the vista drained of color.

To get a little further out on the point, we had to find a way down a 30-foot drop-off.  We were talking to a couple of folks from Canada who noticed a narrow crack with a slope down to the next level.  It turned out to be no trouble at all, but there was yet another drop we could not manage, so we never got to the end of the point. 

We decided to work our way down to a lower ledge.

Geologists say the San Juan River has uncovered a rock record exposing some 300 million years of time.

The color is a bit more apparent, looking to the east...

...or the west.

This ledge had some boulders that managed to defy gravity.  Does it look like David is near the edge?  He is not, we don't take risks.

After negotiating that same 5 miles of rough road, we reached the highway again where we had a choice - turn right down the Moki Dugway or left retracing our path home.  It's all about adventure - so Moki Dugway it was.  A lot of signs told us it was rough, unpaved, one-lane and 10% grade (check the links in the captions below for more detail).  No problem for our trusty toad!

Looking at Google Maps, I was ready to nix the Moki Dugway, 3 miles of dirt road heading down the side of a cliff.

But locals at Muley point assured us that it was a good road (as long as we had good brakes and no fear of heights).

This may be the Cedar Mesa Sandstone of the Early Permian Age, but really, I have no idea.  It was certainly striking, though!

At the bottom of the Dugway, the road was paved again and had amazing views in every direction. 

We drove right past the road heading into the Valley of the Gods, another dirt road we may explore while staying in Page, AZ.

It was getting late and we were still nearly 100 miles from home so we chose to explore Goosenecks State Park another time.  We stopped in Bluff, UT, for a couple of desperately needed ice cold Cokes.  They had a welcome sign saying they were established in 650 AD.  We need to research that a bit and maybe visit Bluff again someday.  Our loop totaled about 185 miles and I was surely ready to relax with a glass of wine when we finally made it home.