Where's Waldo? Camouflage in the Desert

Lizard hanging out on a wall, Antelope Canyon, UT

We have spent quite a bit of time in the desert. Most of our friends think we're nuts: "But there's nothing there!" We hear that a lot.

I think you have to get into a certain mindset to enjoy it. Back up, take a different view of your surroundings, and you will be surprised by how much is going on right under your feet. On a broad scale, the mountains and valleys are in plain view, the earth building up the mountains just to have the weather tear it down right in front of your eyes. I think that's cool.

Titus Canyon, Death Valley National Park

The other attraction of the desert, for me, is what manages to live in such harsh conditions. We love it but would never visit Death Valley in the summer. The creatures that live there year round manage to do so through winter nights that get down in the 20s all the way through the highs in the summer that can reach 130 degrees Fahrenheit (and that's just the air temperature, down on the ground it can get as hot as 200F.)

The weather is just one of the difficulties the smaller desert dwellers face. There are mountain lions, coyotes, hawks, owls, ravens, egrets and herons (near the few water sources) all looking for a meal. The little reptiles and rodents have come up with some pretty clever ways to stay alive, some of which would be the envy of anyone who shops at Cabela's.

Ring-necked Lizard, doing his best to blend in.

Mark is a fiend for reptiles. While I'm off looking at the plant life, he's running through the desert in pursuit of the ring-necked lizard he's been dying to get a picture of. On more than one occasion I've lost him on a trail as he races off, yelling over his shoulder "Chuckwalla! Chuckwalla!"

The holy grail of Mark's world, the chuckwalla is a huge reptile that also happens to be very shy. When it feels threatened, it runs into a crevice in a rocky outcropping and inflates it's lungs, fending off all efforts to pry it out. We've been lucky enough to spot a few over the years, and they are a pretty amazing sight. I'm glad they're shy; they remind me of a dry version of a Komodo Dragon. They just look fierce.

Chuckwalla, posing for the telephoto lens.

Chuckwalla at home. This guy was probably two feet long, not counting his tail.

What's really incredible is the camouflage that so many of the desert dwellers have. We have quite literally almost stepped on things, not seeing them until they move. During one very memorable hike in Anza Borrego I was close behind Mark when he (by dumb luck) stepped right over a whipsnake lying curled up in the middle of the trail. My foot was hovering right over it when I saw it at the last second. I don't think I have ever leapt that far or that high in my life. Of course Mark ran right back, never one to pass an opportunity for a reptile photo shoot (after he peeled me off his back, that is.)

The Whipsnake that started my NBA aspirations.

Even the mammals get in on the camo action. It's amazing to me how the very same animal can look so different, depending on where it lives. Here's a few rabbits for comparison:

Jackrabbit in New Mexico, outside Carlsbad Caverns.

Jackrabbit in Arches NP, Utah
Notice how the coloring changes, depending on the surrounding vegetation.

One of my greatest regrets is accidentally running over a Horned Lizard (sometimes called a Horny Toad, although it's not a toad at all.) I was driving back to camp when it crawled out onto the road in front of us. I swerved to a point where I thought it would go between the tires but I didn't calculate it out quite right and the most sickening squelching, splattering sound could be heard in the back fender. To this day I feel bad; they're not endangered, but they are a pretty rare sight. To make things worse, we had just come off a side road where we had spent a good twenty minutes taking photos of (very possibly) this same lizard.

Horned Lizard
It's no wonder this guy was trying to hide from us. Oh, the humanity!

We're heading to Arizona in May, and I'm sure we'll find some more critters to photograph. We're pretty excited about it. They are, quite probably, not as thrilled. I can only hope the Horned Lizard community hasn't take up a petition against me...

Of course, there are always the things in the desert you'd rather not see.
I think a little camouflage now and then is a good thing.

Been There, Got The T-Shirt

I don't consider myself an addictive personality. Oh sure, I can go a little overboard with the chocolate now and then, but overall I don't feel there's much I couldn't live without. Lately though, during a little early spring cleaning, I realized I just may have a problem.

A whole drawer full, in fact.

I love t-shirts. Not just any t-shirt, but the ones you can find at the visitor's centers and gift stores at national and state parks. I've collected them for as many years as Mark and I have been camping together...no, that's wrong...longer than that. I think I got my first one when I was in high school. I try to tell myself that pictures are what we take away with us when we go to these places, but about 90% of the time I come home with a shirt, hat or sweatshirt as well.

Here's a picture of what I found on the top layer of my drawer:

I went through them just before Christmas and must have given ten shirts to charity. I thought I was doing better. I thought wrong.

I'm embarrassed to say I'm wearing one right now; my pink Yosemite shirt, purchased this summer on our annual trip. I've got one (or more) from all the major parks in the western states, a few from Canada, and a couple from our local county park. It's gotten so bad I have flat storage boxes that slide under the bed filled with shirts that won't fit in the drawer. And that doesn't even include my ball cap collection.

I wear them all, but confess to having a few favorites. My Crater Lake national park t-shirt started out life navy blue but has faded to a light purple, and holes are starting to form along the shoulder seam. I tried to put it in the rag pile but just couldn't bring myself to do it. I've gone so far as to search online to see if they sell the same style as a replacement. No dice.

Mark rolls his eyes when we walk into park stores and as a preemptive measure, warns me I can buy one only if I get rid of one (if by "get rid of" you mean putting it in the box under the bed, then it's a deal...) He can't exactly complain though; he's got a few himself, one of which he still wears even though it looks like an 80s acid-wash gone bad. The seams have the look of really sloppy lace, and there are spots on the back worn so thin by his backpack they're almost translucent.

Mark wearing his favorite Yosemite shirt when it was new-ish. Photo taken in Arches NP, Utah.
(We have a rule: we can't wear a shirt bearing the name of the park we are currently in. For instance, when camping in Yosemite, we have to wear a Glacier or Rainier shirt. Wouldn't want to look like a tourist or something...)

We're working on our plans for trips this year. We've got maps laid out all over the dining room table and guide books with sticky notes poking out the sides; we're looking for some interesting new places to explore in the Arizona and southern Utah regions. We have certain criteria: it can't be too crowded, the weather can't be too cold, and some four wheel driving has to be required. All of this is fine by me, as long as there's a gift store on the way out.

If I don't have a t-shirt, how can I prove I was there?

Utah: Arches and Canyonlands National Parks

If you haven't been to Utah, be sure to put it on your bucket list. Much more than Mormons and the Sundance Film Festival, the state has some of the most spectacular and unusual scenery anywhere on earth. Because (as they say) a picture is worth a thousand words, and I'm feeling pretty lazy, I'll let you look it over for yourselves:

Arches National Park

The campground in Arches is nestled in the sandstone monoliths.

Always red, the sandstone almost glows towards sunset.

Along the trail on "Park Avenue"

Looking out across the park along the Windows Trail

Snow covered peaks of the Rockies, just over the state line in Colorado,
 create a dramatic backdrop to the sandstone.

Balanced Rock

Double Arch, made famous in the opening scene in the third Indiana Jones movie.

Delicate Arch, so iconic it landed on the back of the Utah quarter.

Hiking in Arches: not for the acrophobic.

Landscape Arch

Window Arch. If you look very closely, there are people sitting on the rock outcropping in the
bottom  of the photo.

Canyonlands National Park

Islands in the Sky

One of the horseshoe bends on the Green River.

The White Rim Road is a 4 wheel drive trail through the canyon.
Haven't done it yet--it's on our list.

Bright blue potash evaporation ponds look out of place in the red landscape.

Critters and Petroglyphs:

A horse and rider share a portrait with a lizard.

A miniature arch with a garden of desert flowers.

There are thousands of rabbits that inhabit the desert surrounding Arches.

A leopard lizard posing for the camera.

Indian Paintbrush

Another media-savvy reptile.

Desert Big-Horn sheep must have been more prolific in the past. Maybe
the guys on horseback had something to do with their disappearance.

One in a continuing series entitled "Mark in Holes"

These photos were taken on our 2006 trip through southeastern Utah. Next post will include our eventful trip home.