I wanted to be on the road by 9:00 am and breaking camp has gotten to be a slick (well that might be an exaggeration) routine. I think what makes a difference is I no longer worry about dirt and try and sweep out tent and get all of the sand and grit off the equipment. Just roll it all up and while my dirty hands on my dirty pants. As it happened in Organ Pipe Cactus NP Kili yet again sat alone in the middle of the empty campsite and just didn’t want to move on. Perhaps he is road weary and not into this change thing like his “Mom.”

But we bid adieu to Mt. Lemon, enjoyed the drive down though I still am still aghast at the gray pall hanging over the Tucson Valley (and most everywhere else I have travel in the western states). I counted at least thirty cyclist grinding up the mountain as I was heading heading down. There was a day I would have probably joined them but was not looking upon them with envy for sure. The goal was a Suburban Extended Stay Motel in Alamogordo, New Mexico with a visit to White Sands National Monument the next day. I was trucking along the interstate (there was no feasible alternative route ) and saw a sign for Chiricahua National Monument. Thinking I may never be back in this area (way too many new areas to explore) that why not take a side trip to visit it. So I sailed off the ramp and headed that way. Then a sign announced it was 42 miles to it. iI began to second guess myself since I had no idea why it was created or what the uniqueness was to designate it a monument. But since the drive today was not an extensive one, I continued on through a pleasant valley, a sea of grass dotted with mesquite and cactus, and up into an isolated mountainous range. Chiricahua Monument is very biodiverse as it intersects he Chihuahuan and Sonoran deserts and southern Rockies and northern Sierra Madre. It was established to protect the pinnacles. Rock pinnacles tower over the road that winds up into fir woodlands. There is an infinite variety of spires, and rocks balanced on top of one another and often appearing as if these rock towers might topple over any minute.

The many shapes can let the imagination go wild. So I was in great form finding faces in the myriad of balanced rocks on the 8 mile scenic drive to the summit, Massai Point.

I noticed I was low on gas but knew I had enough to get back to the interstate. But I wanted to take the shortest route which would take me through the historical site of Fort Bowie. The hitch was it was 12 miles of more gravel roads. It was a lovely bucolic drive in rolling hills. One of the problems with these gravel roads is that the jiggling tends to loosen the front clamps on my car top carrier and it, having a mind of its own slides over the right side of the car – definitely not very aerodynamic. So yet again i would have to get out my step stool (because I am SO short) to fix the clamps when at my destination.

 

Once back on the interstate, I had to take the next exit for gas which was 23 miles up. When refueled and with fountain soda in hand I got back on the interstate going west— the wrong direction. It was 12 miles back and 12 miles forward before I was truly on my way. I began to think I was on the wrong road – one that was permitted for trucks only because it seemed I was squeezed up front and behind and on the side by one truck after another. I would pass an occasional car but to pass the time I decide to count the trucks and cars going in the opposite direct for a few miles. When I reach 100 trucks I had counted only 51 cars. Is I wasn’t completely skewed in my perception of this truck route. I finally arrive at the motel around 6:30. I think and was a bit relieved to not be setting up camp. I inched my little Prius in between two monster pick-ups and observed she was surrounded by more and more trucks in the parking lot. I am beginning to think I am behind the times! Shortly thereafter I began to re-remeber why I prefer to camp vs. motels. It is awful trying to walk a couple of dogs around a motel parking lot (or if I chose so here, along a busy highway). As with most motels west of the Mississippi every single border is some kind of stone – rarely a blade of grass to be seen and if there is some it is wild and full of burrs. So Simba poops right in the middle of the parking lot. I felt like leaving it there but dutifully picked it up. He hates to walk on the stones or burrs. But a hot shower felt great and spent some time on the internet— which was painfully slow. As I was thinking about turning off the light it occurred to me I had to make the rounds of the parking lot again with the pups— camping they can just hop out of the tent and find their own spot in the woods. So I had to put on my clothes again and perform the ritual circles.

I had thought about spending another day at the motel but change my mind since the wifi was pathetic and I was bored to tears circling the parking lot. But I did get a load of laundry done , checked out and we were on the road to White Sands National Monument in the Tularosa Basin. This monument captured my heart years ago when I was in southern New Mexico. This to me is a very wistful and serene place with white gypsum shimmering sand dunes of all sizes and shapes in the Chihuahua Desert. It is a vast sea of wave-like dunes in the desert. That seem to be alive as they are constantly building, cresting and then receding. The sand seemed hard packed and moist and because of the gypsum remain that way in draught. I took a hike with the dogs (yes they are dog friendly here) up one of the dune trails but they were not very keen about the sand. Many years ago I had my heart set on camping at White Sands and because of violent thunderstorms they closed the park and did not permit me to go into the campsites. I was so angry and upset but looking back I can understand the reaction given this is such a magical place. It was great fun watching kids slide down the dunes in saucers and then having a picnic in one of their “space age” picnic shelters.

 

 

After leaving the monument we were heading directly east across the desert to the Tucson area. I planned to first go to Saguaro National Park – Tucson Mountain District Unit. There was a level paved walk around their cactus garden so I set out with the dogs. By now it was 12:30 and it was already in the low 90’s. I didn’t have much enthusiasm for it nor did the dogs after about 10 minutes. So we piled back in the car and headed off to do the Scenic Bajda Loop Drive. I kept thinking, through much of the desert, and here in Saguaro, that some jokester had come along and plant massive fields of green prickly fence posts or perhaps telephone poles. They just dotted the land for miles.

 

But I soon discovered theses “post” have already had a long life. But I soon discovered theses “post” have already had a long life cycle. The Saguaro cactus grow very slowly and though these looked to me like new fields of cacti, most of these 7+ foot of cacti would be about 50 years old. They don’t sprout even their first arms for about 75 years. When I see these saguaros with their arms reaching towards the sky I think of the salutation to the sun routine in yoga. These cacti appear to be reaching to the heavens . So the field of posts took on a whole different meaning, now seeing them as living elders with the wisdom to survive and grow in the harshest of environments. The Bajda loop was be very similar to the washboard dirts roads of the Organ Pipe scenic drives and though quite lovely did not seem nearly as spectacle as the Ajo Drive. So to amuse myself I did have fun making up roles various cactus were fulfilling. There were dancers, huggers, twisters, muscle men, schnoz’s, and it probably does not need saying but a multitude of phalluses.

Since the Ironwood Forest National Monument was only about 15 miles from here I decided to drive over there. There may be no main entrance but Siri took me to the wrong side from what I can gather. No real entrance sign and a terrible road. I pulled over a ways in to get a better look at a magnificent saguaro cactus and along came a truck. The driver was making sure I was okay and then suggested I not go much further as it gets rougher and one needs a higher clearance vehicle. He then told me how to go around so the other side of the monument. At this point I determined this idea was a bust and I best head to my campsite in Rose Canyon up the Catalina Highway on Lemon Mountain. This is a gorgeous drive though it was sad to see the Tuscon valley covered with smaze and thus views so distorted. The drive is referred to as the Sky Island Scenic Byway, referring to the areas in Arizona where pine covered mountains rise above the desert. Suddenly while driving, after about a few miles, I became aware that I had now left the desert suguaro cactus and was back up in conifer territory, with spruce and pine at the highest elevation .

I also kept seeing the temperature dropping for each 1000 feet of altitude we were gaining and within that hour it went from 91 to 59 degrees. I arrived at a lovely wooded campsite at an elevation of about 7500 feet. I welcomed by a jovial host, who even volunteered to charge my computer when I asked if there was anyplace near where I might be able to do that. I purchased some firewood and proceed to set up camp and have dinner. My plan was to have a cozy evening by the fire but after walking the dogs up to the camp hosts site to retrieve the computer all I wanted to do was hunker down in the tent out of the chilly wind…which is exactly what I did.

I was really looking forward to a down day here on Mt. Lemon. So we had a slow ease into the day morning and when well nourished and after having gotten better organized I wanted to visit Rose Canyon Lake. So Kili, Simba and I had a brisk walk – temperature that is – not pace. We went down into the canyon on the forest service road and found this small trout which lake quite charming. There were a fishermen by the shore and Kili was smelling his food – so the man generously gave Kili a big chunk of his beef burrito. I have met so many really nice and friendly people along the way. No big conversation but many pleasant little chats. So we gazed a bit and returned to the campsite.

Todays drive was up to the top of Mount Lemon – a very short 10 miles. I stopped at a couple of vista but there was so muchparticulate matter in the air it was hard to see anything at all very clearly. There was also a lot of scarring on the hillsides from forest fires. A ranger i spoke with said most are from lightning strikes but sometimes there is one from a careless camper. I passed a few cyclists on the way up. Many of the professional triathletes I have read about who train in the Tucson area use the Catalina drive to the top of Mt. Lemon as a training ride. What a long 25 mile uphill grind!!! I finally found a grocery at the Ski Village – well one that actually sold pricey lunch meat and hot dogs along with the usually souvenirs (of course saying Mt. Lemon not Florida or Colorado). So I got my minimal appetite dog some hot dogs. The rest of the was spent at the campsite relaxing, writing, early dinner and the first campfire of the return trip.

Most of the areas I have travel through are in a high danger fire zone so campfires were out of the question. But up here in the conifer forest at about 7800 feet altitude there was minimal danger. Sitting by the campfire brings back so many memories of both spending summers at Mullet Lake in Michigan as a child and also all of my wonderful experiences as a Girl Scout.

 

 

In contrast to Joshua tree my arrival at Organ Pipe Cactus National Monument campground was not so smooth . The day was pretty much like most of travel days: break camp (and I made my goal of 9:00 am); gas up; return any necessary messages or phone calls when in cell range; and stop and get ice and expensive lunch meat to feed Kili, the dog with no appetite. Then, on I traveled across the desert. I was moving from bear country into rattlesnake territory. It is about 55 years since I studied geography and I probably killed all the brain cells that stored that learning with all the college drinking and partying. I mention that because I wish I had more knowledge of the land, the geology and the vegetation zones and what I was observing as I travel eastward. Even with all my travels in the US, much has been on interstates and I never keenly observed on a micro scale the geology and vegetation along the way.  I always thought of desert as relatively flat and boring. But It was extremely fascinating as I drove on east to see the changes in the desert scape from the Mojave to the Sonoran The predominant color was in the tan-gold spectrum with the desert sands reminding me of spun taffy.  The mountains at a distance seemed void of vegetation, quite dark and empty, but closer up they were dotted with varying shades of grey vegetation. I avoid all highways on the way down to Organ Pipe and came through a variety of small decaying towns. What took me aback the most was upon traveling down 72 towards Gila bend,  just out of Vicksburg, I passed a couple of huge farms with cattle feed lots in this area where no amount of hay could possibly be grown to feed the cattle. There were huge walls of hay stacks on the farms as well as truckloads of hay on the road being brought in. There were what I call “cowports” with fans, akin to a carports for cows – huge long rows of covered feed stall. To see that whole operation in the middle of the desert when it was 97 degrees at the end of October, was upsetting for me. It seems inhumane. But I am not a cow and really have no idea how a cow experiences this. But I don’t like it! Much of the route also had open range and many signs warning about watching out for livestock. I was extremely saddened to see a dead cow by the roadside. I have seen deer, all sorts of smaller animals, alligators but never a dead cow. Along the same route there were aqueducts to bring the water down for irrigation the desert. I can’t imagine how much of a waste of water that is (even if food is being grown) because of the high evaporation rate in the hot arid region. As I got further and further south the temperature climbed to 99 degrees and the last 80 miles of the road to Organ Pipe was a straight shot. A new presence was two border control stops – mostly for the traffic heading north from down south Mexico way. The other difference was the often placed signs of warning about illegal immigrants and smugglers.

I decided however I did not need to be fearful – as most of those who know me and know historically the risks i have taken I began to notice more and more Saguaro cactus, at first, few and far between. The reminded me of sentries posted to guard the way. As I got closer the “head” count was higher but they all still seemed like lone sentinels standing there quite stalwart and some quite imposing with their multiple arms.

 

 

I arrived at the campground in good order at the Twin Peaks campground and proceed to find a campsite as this is a no reservation park. It is a quite large but ver nice campground with real plumbing and solar hot water showers.

All was on track until I made a turn into the lane for a campsite and cut the corner quite close, not seeing two tall curbs that just happened to inexplicably plant themselves in front of my wheel. Well my powerful Prius just jumped right up on them and hung herself there and could not plow right on over like perhaps a 4WD could. NOW WHAT? After conferring for quite a while with a camper nearby, I decided it best to call AAA and request service out here in the middle of the desert about 80 miles from someplace. I got it arranged much to my relief. In the meantime I set up camp – not on my chosen site, but on the one nearest the car. Shortly. the camp host, John, came by and spent a while surveying the predicament Pretty Priss Prius got into. He decided to call the park rangers. Of course by now it is pitch dark out. While waiting, along came Border Control. They patrol the area as the park is only 4 miles from the Mexico Border. They didn’t have any new ideas. But then my hero, the park ranger, guns and all showed up and he and John were able to remove the plastic molding which was what was the real cause of the hang up. Once removed they were able to jockey they car out from the curbs. So we pulled the car into the closet site and decided to wait till morning. By now it was an hour and a half since I called AAA so I called to cancel but within 5 minutes this huge tow truck is straining up the narrow camp roads. I had him, as best he could, check out the car to see if he could spot any other damage and it seems okay so I bade him farewell.

 

What is really mazing to me is that there is good cell phone reception here and this is extremely rare in any national park or monument .Then it occurred to me that they want people to be able to call if they encounter or spot any smugglers or illegal imigrants seeking entry. 

With that negotiated I still had not had any dinner and camp was not fully set up. So I pushed on and finally settled into the tent. Well Kili was panting and prowling! It was windy and the tent kept flapping and he wanted to investigate the noise. It was so dry as well that I thought he might be thirsty so we got out of the tent for a drink and to survey the land. I puy the water into the tent but that was not were it belong so back out it went. This went on three times until I just decided to ignore him. Of course Simba joined in the scene as well.

We awoke to a beautiful clear cool morning and after coffee i decided to take a 3 mile walk on the Palo Verde Trail with he dogs on, believe -it-or-not, a dog friendly trail and it was a nice trail as well.

When we got back an hour later I discover food paper litter all over the campsite. The Ravens has gotten into the cooler and extricated and consumed the lunch meat, cheese, pea pods, apple, and got the package with my allergy medicines ripped open though the viles were intact. Since it was now getting warmer and there was no shade on this site at all I decided I would move my site (yes I am a glutton for punishment) across the way as there was a “ramada,” a shaded roof for the picnic table area. It was not actually too hard of a chore as we were just going across the way and one site up.

With the heat rising, I decide the day would best be spent taking a couple of the interpretive driving ours to better experience and see the desert up close (as if it was close enough the previous night the I ran into a Cholla and it deposit one of its thorns about a 1/2 inch deep into my leg. I soon learned that there are very few stands of organ pipe in the us. Ii loves the sun and southerly slopes and can’t tolerate the sub freezing temperatures of the desert north of Mexico. The highlight drive was the Ajo Mountain Drive and it was truly an amazing scenic drive, through the Diablo Mountains to the base of the Ajo Mountains with majestic specimens of Organ Pipe and Saguaro Cactus which reflect the magnificence of the Sonoran. It was a washboard gravel road (I had not abused Now Not-so-Pretty Priss Prius enough to date, so we jiggled and shook, wound and dipped our way through this 21 mile stretch which seemed fitting given the, harsh, primitive nature of the landscape with a huge population of surge, organ pipe cactus,  mesquite, palo verde, jojoba, and a couple of my favorites— the chain fruit cholla and the teddy bear cholla. The organ pipe cactus is human friendly and has an abnormal growth out of the center called a crest. It is quite intricate as you can see below.They are beautify shimmering in the sunlight but filled with tiny hooked barbs. They are intriguing but dangerous as they quit adroitly hook into you clothing or shoe. it is often called jumping cholla and I can attest to how readily it attacks by the number of times it settled in me and on the dogs. . I need to carry tweezers because I have carelessly gotten to close to these little hitchhikers.

 

I found that so fascinating that I headed for a couple of other scenic drives. The next was the drive the both the North Puerto Blanco with views of the Ajo Valley and Pinkley Peak and South Puerto Blanco to Sento Basin. The southern part of this loop road was also a washboard and probably the most interesting thing on this route to me was views of the border fence, as the road parallels the US Mexico border for a few miles.The presence of border control vehicles was duly noticed. After about eight miles I opted to turn around since I would not be able to complete the loop. Pretty Priss Prius wasn’t up to it after her mishap the night before. She has finally come to he conclusion that she is not a 4WD vehicle and to complete it, one needs 4WD.

So we headed back up to do the North Puerto Blanco until Pretty Priss was prohibited from going on. But, first a stop in Lukeville, the US border town. I needed to get ice and hoped to get some lunch meat etc. to replace the foods the ravens looted that morning. I should have guessed but this was the only stop in town and there was no real food. I toyed with the idea then of taking a little side trip into Mexico but then thought better of it. I drove onto the northern section was much more scenic with views of the mountains, valleys and very dense fields of sugar and organ pipe.cactus.

After that I head to camp. I had hope it had cooled down a bit and the sun was low enough tolerate being outside. It was actually quite pleasant though still quite warm. The evening was uneventful and quiet. After a beautiful sunset, I enjoyed the stars twinkling peacefully in the dark clear clean dry night sky.

Simba wanted to get up for the sunrise so I crawled out of the tent, got my morning coffee going, and was able to download the newspaper (though I kind of regretted it as I have ignored the news for several days). But Simba cuddle on my lap and we welcomed the bright and beautiful sun as it peaked over the horizon. The color show before the rise was quite beautiful s well. Kili was fascinated by the Ravens waiting for an opportune moment and the Gambel’s quail flitting about in the under brush.Today was a moving on day so I dismantle our home and was ready to head out by nine. It was so sad though as I could tell Kili was not liking all of this routine of spending a couple nights and moving on. He went and laid down right in the middle of the empty tent pad and campsite. I had to coax him into the car.

Saturday was departure day and I was heading down to LA to visit my nephew Eric and his 10 month old son Clark – my first great nephew. I also had the additional task of returning to the Tom Bradley International Terminal at LAX to retrieve my passport left behind when returning from Australia. If you read my earlier blog you know how much i dislike LAX. But the only way to get it back was to pick it upon in person. So breaking camp was a slow process as things were still muddy wet and I have, of course, way to much stuff because there was room in the car for it! So I poked out of Pinnacles about 10:30 and headed south. I had to succumb to interstate driving as it was the only practical way to get there before sundown. I did not want to be negotiating the LA freeway system after dark.

However, looking at the map when leaving I spotted another potential adventure. I saw the Carrizo Plain National Monument on the map and since I have seen some quite splendid National Monument already on this trip, I had Siri devise a route on local roads to it. This also would help me avoid some of the freeways.The plain, sitting between the Caliente Range and the Tembler Range, is a drainage basin with the water draining to Soda Lake. During the dry season the water entirely evaporates and what is left is a salt encrusted lake basin. It was a well chosen adventure as the plain is the largest single native grassland remains in California at 50 miles long and at times 15 miles wide. The surrounding mountains have their own unique look and color and were dressed out in shades of maize, goldenrod, desert sand, almond and brown. Soda Lake Road was paved for a bit but then the route turned into a washboard cattle-guarded stone throwing gravel road. But I am always up for the challenge and we jounced on through the pain, marveling at magical landscapes of the of the natural world. Every day I am thankful for these national parks and monuments for the beauty and unique natural settings they preserve.

I do not know how I would have managed the spiderweb of LA freeways without dear Siri. I was aghast at the volume of traffic on Saturday afternoon. The highways were packed and often bumper to bumper 6-7 lanes across. I was staying at the good old dog friendly Motel 6 in Van Nuys. Even this very spare motel with its very spare rooms was $98.00. But I have a distaste for spending $200.00 or exorbitant pet fees to pop in, sleep, and pop out again in the am. I began to have my doubts though when there was a guard for the parking lot and warning signs saying no guest allowed in rooms unless registered. It was across the street from a huge beer manufacturing plant, and there was a spot in the parking lot designated for police car. But all was quiet, room decent and clean and free wi-fi! Didn’t need much more. Besides if I had too much luxury it would spoil me for my camping adventures.

The next national park stop was to be Joshua Tree. But first was a visit with my nephew and first grand nephew Clark We had a lovely brunch with Eric and Allison and even Kili and Simba got along with their dogs. True to the bad habits Simba adopted while in Oregon (i.e. peeing on Tasia’s carpet) he managed to present a healthy poop in the middle of the entry way, only to be discovered when baby Clark crawled over there to examine it. Because the family was under the weather we left about 12:30 and headed to LAX for my passport.

That went very smooth until I could not find my car in the lot across from the International Terminal. Now I had noted it was on level 4 row E but somehow I went in a different entrance and ended up in a different garage. Thanks to imaps the spot was marked and I could wind may way back to the correct garage. I then was able to adeptly negotiate the maze of freeways heading east from LAX to Joshua Tree National Park. In the process of getting there I continued to feel that disdain that I have for most freeways and it wasn’t much different here. As I tried to appreciate the backdrop for these communities, the mountains and hills of the environs of LA, I can’t help but be distracted by the power lines, multitude of signs, and sheer number of chain stores and fast food places which are carbon copied from interchange to interchange. Granted some communities try to make their chain stores fit into the landscape of the area and do a relatively decent job but it still is a challenge to be able to look beyond the back of the cement adobe and sand colored buildings with their registered bright colored trademark signs and appreciate the setting.I arrived around 5:00 at Joshua Tree and encountered a landscape quite unlike any other I had seen.

I stopped at the visitors center and got a map and discovered on the map that the campground I had reserved was another 10 miles down the road. By now I was in the desert with an elevation of 3000 feet. Things looked quite barren and bleak at first glance but I headed on toward 29 Palms Oasis. We were now in rattlesnake territory rather than bear territory. I easily found the campground and immediately fell in love with the area. The rock formations were incredible and unlike any I had seen before and the campsites were nested within the protection of massive boulder. I was definitely at this point a very happy camper and camp setup was easy and accomplished before dark. I had great enthusiasm for tomorrows adventures. The first thing I learned however was the Joshua Tree is not a tree or a cactus but a monocot which is similar in structure to grasses and have a slow growth cycle (one inch a year) . To me that was fascinating.

Given the anticipated high temperatures and lack of shade in the desert ,I knew this would be a scenic driving day. The dogs and I took a early morning walk before the heat began to build up then it was off in the car. I had not anticipated how large this national park are would be so I knew I had no desire to do the whole circumference of the park. So we headed back to the West Entrance Station and cruised from there. I knew I wanted to head through the Hidden Valley area and on up towards the Keys View at 5185 feet. It was a beautiful view of the valley, surrounding San Bernadino Mountains and desert. I later learned that one could observe the St. Andreas Fault in the valley below but wasn’t aware of that up top. I was a suburb view of the valley and of course a great little opportunity for a short walk with the dogs. Yes, there was a 1/4 mile path they could be on! Just as we were thinking about moving on up pulled a full busload of tourist, so rather than be engorged by this mass of people, we headed back on down to the flats.

Visiting the Cholla Cactus Garden and Ocotillo Patch in the Pinto Basin seemed interesting so we head out the Pinto Basin Road toward the Cottonwood Visitors Center. What became quite fascinating was being aware that two deserts, the Mojave and Colorado (part of the larger Sonoran), transition in the middle of the park and though there is a great biodiversity in this transition zone you can see the in the northwestern Mojave give way to the Colorado in the southeastern reaches. The Joshua Tree is unique to the Mojave and is mixed in with pinyon, juniper, scrub oak, yucca and prickly pear. They thrive in this moist cooler higher elevation than of the Mojave I could observe the gradual changing to the vegetation as I moved southeast into the more arid climate of the Colorado, I began seeing the dominant vegetation was the creosote bush, ocotillo, palo verde and the infamous jumping cholla cactus (teddy bear cholla). There was very little wildlife to observe as it was the heat of the day and few flowers as it is the waning season even in the desert.

 

I spotted a patch of cholla cactus as I drove along and stopped to take some pictures. I had not yet fully understood their reputation but I ended up with a couple off cholla hitchhikers embedding in my crocks and had a horrible time getting them out and not lacerating my fingers or have them poking through the sole into my foot. So when I reached the cholla garden I was super cautious as their barbs are viscous . The ocotillo patch was minimal but became interesting as it appeared to be a cactus but is not. And and up closer look, from a very rough woody textured bark, revealed tiny leaves budding all up and down its stalks. Though from a distance it appears dead, it can be very much alive just waiting for the rains. Our tour ended down at Cottonwood Springs were I went up a sandy gravely incline better to observe the Palm Oasis and managed to loose my footing on the sand surface and take a beautiful skid ending with some vivid road rash on my left thigh. Another lesson in not wearing the correct shoe for the activity.

One of the most fun activities was to observe the myriad of stacked boulder throughout the park, with joints formed horizontally and vertically, resulting in piles of angular granite blocks. Over time, they weathered and eroded and scattered across the desert. Ones imagination can run wild and I could find all kind of faces and objects in the rock formations. The rest of the stay was peaceful with a beautiful sunset walk, dark starlit skies, and a night in my cozy tent with my canine buddies.

 

After breaking camp the journey down to Organ Pipe Cactus National Monument commenced. Kili, unlike myself, does not do well with change.  And so began his pattern of finding a spot on the campsite to rest and resist leaving. even when all spaced and cleared away.