Graffiti, Dam, and Dinosaurs — All in a Day’s Travel

Colorado River, Glen Canyon Dam Overlook

Colorado River, Glen Canyon Dam Overlook © 2014 Bo Mackison

Day two of bonus travel.  Page, Arizona.
I take a detour on a scenic view road,
discover the Glen Canyon Dam Overlook.

Glen Canyon Dam Overlook

Logan and Sam, Volunteers Removing Graffiti  © 2014 Bo Mackison

On my climb down the red rock trail,
I meet three college kids hard at work,
scrub brushes in hand, cleaning graffiti from the red rock.

They tell me their story while they work.
They’re honor students from Southern Utah University
visiting Glen Canyon – hiking, exploring, and volunteering.

Glen Canyon Dam Overlook

Sammi and Graffiti Removal at Glen Canyon © 2014 Bo Mackison

Logan from St. George, Sammi from Tontopah, Nevada
and Sam from Salt Lake City, all intent on cleaning the hot rock.
Logan laughs as he says, “We’re the nerdy kids, not the cool kids.”

I disagree. I think they’re the cool kids.

Glen Canyon Dam Overlook

Jayci and Alyssa with Park Ranger Cynthia © 2014 Bo Mackison

Hiking on the red rock towards the Colorado River,
I meet more volunteers removing streaks of
unsightly graffiti from the red rock.

Glen Canyon Dam Overlook

Ranger Cynthia Sequanna Demonstrating Graffiti Removal to Damaris

Jayci from Cedar City, Alyssa from St. George,
and Damaris from Salt lake City work with Park Ranger Cynthia Sequanna.
A big thanks to these students. And to the Park Ranger, too.

I’ve discovered positive energy on these red rocks, for sure.

Revived, I get back on the road,
Kanab Utah 73 miles.
Carl Hayden Visitor Center 1 mile.

Glen Canyon Dam at Carl Hayden Visitor Center

Glen Canyon Dam © 2014 Bo Mackison

Elevation 3827 feet.
Waters of the Colorado River are backed up 185 miles
by the Glen Canyon Dam to create Lake Powell.

During prolonged droughts, released water
provides for the desert cities to the south.
Full in 1980, now the lake fluctuates near the 50% mark.

I leave Arizona, enter Utah.
Its motto – “Life Elevated.”
The rock is layered in more colors than I can imagine.

Not only reds and oranges, there’s shades of gray,
white, green, blue, yellow.
Hard to drive, there’s too much to see!

BLM Dinosaur Visitor Center

Big Water Dinosaur ©2014 Bo Mackison

Big Water, Utah.
Rocks like chimneys, puffy clouds like smoke.

Big Water Visitor Center. Grand Staircase/Escalante National Monument.
Tiny building in the big desert, but inside are huge dinosaur specimens,
bone not plastic,  from digs in the immediate area.

Merle Graffam and His Dinosaur Find

Flyer about Dinosaur Discover Merle Graffam © 2014 Bo Mackison

Adding another  bonus to my bonus travel,
I have the pleasure of meeting local paleontology expert Merle Graffam.

Discoverer of the first Therizinosaurus found in the Western Hemisphere,
an entirely new dinosaur species, now scientifically known as Nothronychus Graffami.

All because he decided he needed more exercise
and thought the Utah sands would be an ideal  outdoor gym.
And that claw he saw sticking out of the gray sand – yes indeed,
Graffam’s very own dinosaur.

His autograph is on the flyer, it even says “to Bo”
but Bo was so stunned by a celebrity sighting
she forgot she had her camera slung over her shoulder!

Essence of Place – White Sands in Chihuahuan Desert

White Sands National Monument, New Mexico

White Sands National Monument ©2013 Bo Mackison

White Sands National Monument in southern New Mexico is a desert within a desert.

The park is surrounded by the Chihuahuan Desert – a desert  of low scrub plants. This desert of white sand dunes has even less vegetation than the Chihuahuan Desert.

Sherpa and I stopped at White Sands on our cross country trip from the Midwest to Tucson. Since I had a limited amount of time for photographs, I attempted to capture the essence of the park in a few select photographs.

The above landscape photo shows a progression of dunes, each topped with low grasses and yucca. The dunes are spotted with plants that thrive in gypsum — the white sand is pure gypsum. Gyp moonpad and gyp nama are common.

Sund Dune

Sand Dune ©2014 Bo Mackison

This photo of the arch of a crescent shaped dune is a small part of the larger desert landscape.

This kind of landscape photograph is often called an intimate landscape, and is a technique pioneered by Eliot Porter. Typically there is little emphasis on the horizon, the lighting, or a long shot of a vista, but instead the focus is on pattern, texture and composition.

Intimate landscapes often have an abstract feel.

Sand Drift

Sand Drift © 2014 Bo Mackison

The ripples of sand drifts offered plenty of opportunity for a close up photo.

The texture of the fine sand is nearly visible, the texture of sugar. This isn’t a typical macro-photograph, but it does give a good indication of the movement paths of wind blown sand.

Photo Session in White Sands National Monument

Portrait Session in White Sands © 2014 Bo Mackison

A portrait in a landscape, or an unexpected detail in a landscape.

When I saw this photographer setting up his equipment for a portrait, I had to get a shot even though they were far away. It gives a different perspective of White Sands – the grasses in the foregorund, the gently rolling sand hills, and then the tiny figures on the horizon – a photographer adjusting his camera on a tripod, and his posing subject.

White Sands National Monument

White Sands National Monument © 2014 Bo Mackison

White Sands National Monument attracts a fair number of sledders.

The gift shop at the park headquarters even sells the round discs for sledding. So it seemed appropriate, as part of capturing the park’s overall feel, that I include a photograph of the visitors who came to the desert for a sled ride.

White Sands National Monument, New Mexico

Rabbitbrush in White Sand © 2014 Bo Mackison

And a final photograph, a bit of the hardy vegetation that grows in one of the more hostile climates in the world.

Not many plants thrive with little rainfall, constant wind and creeping sands, drastic changes in temperatures of day and night, scorching sun and intense heat in the summer, and a soil that has minimal nutrients. The rabbitbrush and dune grasses are highly adapted plants that live where few plants can.

 

Return to the Chiricachuas

The first time I visited Chiricahua National Monument in southeastern Arizona, on my first visit to Arizona in 2008, I was in awe of the vast mountain spires, the chimneys and balanced rocks and imposing towers of stone. Interspersed within this wonderland of rock was a forest of many shades of green, and an immense variety of vegetation caused by the interconnection of four major habitats – the Chihuahuan Desert from the east, the Sonoran Desert from the west, the Rocky Mountains from the north and the Sierra Madre Mountains from the south.

All come together in Chiricahua, a sky island, and the combined diversity in nature was almost unimaginable. A drive from northern Canada, through the United States, and ending in northern Mexico would give you a similar experience, but add 2,000 miles to your drive.

Chiricahua

Chiricahua National Monument © 2012 Bo Mackison

When I was in Arizona last winter, I had hoped to visit the Monument again, but I ran out of time. No problem, I thought. I’ll go see the Chiricahuas when I come back. They’ll still be there. I’ll have more time to explore, and I can camp again in the delightful Bonita Springs Campground.

I returned to Chiricahua National Monument a few days ago. And I was partly wrong in my assumptions. Yes, the Chiricahuas are still there, the mountains as vast and intricate as always. But no, they are not the same. Last May, 2011, only a few weeks after my return to the Midwest, a human-caused fire started in the drought-dry Coronado National Forest many miles south of the park.

A deep freeze the February before had killed much of the annual and perennial vegetation in the area. And a regional drought had made the whole of southeastern Arizona like a tinder box. One carelessly watched campfire was all it took. Six weeks after the initial blaze, almost 223,000 acres in the Chiracahua Mountains, and 100% of Chiricahua National Monument, had burned. Buildings were saved, a few hundred acres of trees in the lower elevations and near the campground had been protected, but everything else had been damaged to some extent by the wildfire.

Last week, I finally had the chance for a proper visit. I set up my campsite, and then took the last tour of the day of the Faraway Ranch,the historical ranch that was instrumental in establishing this part of the Chiricahuas as a National Monument back in the 1920s. Then I headed up into the mountains on the eight mile long road to see the summit and assess the damage I had only heard about.

The rocks were there, but the trees I remember were burnt tree matchsticks. Entire mountains had been denuded. Here and there a few survivors showed green against the pale rock, but the damage was — perhaps I am being dramatic here, but the only word I can think of is — heartbreaking.

As I walked around I still admired the rocks. They are still spectacular. But I wondered what had happened to all the species of mammals and bats, hummingbirds and insects, the trees and the flowers, that had flourished here in such unprecedented numbers. Where had everything gone?

I saw a few birds soaring between the rocks and one lizard. I saw a few wildflowers, hugging the road. A few bushes, some scarred. A few trees.

I left my camera in the car. Even though it was late afternoon, and the time was approaching the golden hour, my enthusiasm for photography was at a low. I drove back to the campground, packed up the few things I’d piled on the picnic table, and drove back to Tucson.

Before I left, I took a couple of photographs near the Faraway Ranch where the trees were saved.

Chiricahua National Monument

Spared Chiricahuas © 2012 Bo Mackison

The monument won’t be the monument I remember falling in love with until my grandchildren’s children are old enough to hike the trails. I’ll be back before then, ready to find the beauty I know is still there, ready to take photographs of Chiricahua.

I need a little time to adjust to Chiricahua as it is now. But I’ll be back.

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Bo Mackison is a photographer and owner of Seeded Earth Studio LLC, living and photographing in southern Arizona.

 

Organ Pipe Cactus — Another Visit

IMG_1781

Organ Pipe and the Whirling Cloud

I’m feeling quite a lot like this organ pipe cactus–all askew on my base of support, a bit in disarray, not knowing which direction I should be heading next. And in my tangled chaos, I need to pull out some organization and steady work habits.

The Tempe Art Festival begins this Friday, March 25 and goes through Sunday, March 27. I was notified of a recent booth change for Seeded Earth Studio which appears to be to my benefit. I am now located on Mill Street between University and Seventh and I have a corner booth. Now I am imagining a number of corner booth set-ups, both in my head and on paper. Of course, I never really make the final set-up decision until I am there, rearranging the panels like it’s a giant toy puzzle.

I’ll be pre-occupied for the next few days–putting the finishing touches on my hand crafted cards, assembling the sets, and making a card insert for each set. There are five new sets, all with an Arizona theme — desert botanical, desert landscape, Arizona National Parks, Mission at San Xavier del Bac, and Tumacacori Mission.

I also need to check each of my new prints and photo canvases–part of my quality control. There will be  first-time-exhibited photographs of Arizona at the Tempe show. I will probably keep checking them–a bit compulsively–until they are safely hung on the booth’s walls or placed in a print bin. But I want my booth to be perfect when the clock strikes 10:00 a.m. on this Friday and the first visitors come into the Seeded Earth Studio booth. I’m quite excited!

Now…back to work!

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Bo Mackison is a photographer and owner of Seeded Earth Studio LLC. She is living in Tucson through the first week in April, exhibiting her photography in art fairs, taking photographs in deserts,  and blogging about “Bo goes solo”. She is also scrambling to get everything in top-notch order for her upcoming show.

Organ Pipe Cactus National Monument

Organ Pipe Cactus at Organ Pipe Cactus NM

Organ Pipes at Organ Pipe Cactus NM

Journal Entry:

8:50 am. 74˚ F, windy, gusting to 30 mph. Sunny, no clouds, but dusty in the distance–the faraway mountains that I usually see in detail are obscured in a dust cloud.

I am quite fond of the organ pipe cactus. It doesn’t really live in this part of the Sonoran Desert, it has been planted by the Desert Museum staff. Before I go back to Wisconsin, I want to make one more trip Organ Pipe Land, to Organ Pipe Cactus National Monument, nearly three hours west of Tucson.

Organ Pipe — this one has 14 arms. Are they called arms? Most of them come straight from the ground. Two arms on this plant have split–like twins–and have a V-shape at the top.

18 feet–tallest. 8 inches–shortest.

I wonder what makes the girth of the cactus pull in–like a cord was tightened around its circumference and then removed, leaving an indentation. It’s a handsome specimen with lots of strictures. I like its shape. It is more interesting, the changes. Wouldn’t be as visually appealling if each arm was perfectly smooth, all the way from bottom to the very tip.

Just like people. The prim and proper aren’t nearly as interesting as those who don’t insist on showing the world only their perfect selves. It seems the more mistakes one makes, the more chances, risks that person has taken, the more they have learned.

Mistakes = trying over and over until the problem is solved, the project is finished.

Sometimes a mistake is apparent–this organ pipe had a virus and one of its ends is malformed, bulbous, some might say it is ugly, but I think its curves and bubbled surfaces are distinctive. It doesn’t lessen the worth of the organ pipe in my eyes. It gives me something more to study, to contemplate. It’s like a bit of decoration on the cactus plant.

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Bo Mackison is a photographer and owner of Seeded Earth Studio LLC. She is living in Tucson for two months, exhibiting her photography in art shows, taking photographs, and blogging about photography, art fairs, and living life “solo.”