Slippery river drainage:
In time, I reached the stream crossing that I had been told to look for by state botanists and other colleagues.
Right at the stream crossing I saw a small waterfall, and there--sure enough--were a few Pinguicula rosettes,
some of which were in flower.
Excellent! However, the plants were in places that were almost impossible to get close to, so I decided to
search the side canyon above the waterfall.
I immediately encountered a few tricky points with steep slopes, long drops, and crumbling rock faces that were conspiring
to kill foolish climbers, but by ferrying my gear (backpack, tripod, water, etc) in loads, I was able to
get past these adrenalin-juicing outcrops. Past these points I entered a beautiful and steep
drainage of bare rock, apparently swept free
of all loose material by high-water flows. The surface of the drainage was like polished marble. Indeed, since there were
some limestone outcrops, this might actually be marble.
Oh, one more story about the Night of the Mormon Crickets. When I reached the interstate highway, the crosswinds had
really picked up and my little rental car was being buffetted hard. Meanwhile, hundreds of tumbleweeds had been
set into motion by the storm. Driving was amazing--imagine being on the highway at night with dust blowing and
reducing visibility, and every ten seconds or so a rolling tumbleweed--ranging in size from that of a large TV to a
small couch--would shamble into view and if you would hit it, it would disintegrate into a fury of tiny fragments.
It was like a video game!
While the tumbleweeds were not dangerous, the
reflexive avoidance reactions of other drivers was very hazardous. They'd weave in terror every time a tumbleweed
would bound along. I learned to stay away from other drivers. Actually, I found it far more entertaining to crash my
rental into every tumbleweed that came my way.
Barry Rice, tumbleweed bounty-hunter!
