Category: Travel

Cholla and Brittlebush Picture of the Week

Cholla and Brittlebush

It’s the end of April, and last week we went from, “let’s open up the windows and let some warmth in,” to “Oh my Gawd—turn on the air conditioner.” I don’t recall a year when the temperature gained thirty degrees in a week. I’m not ready for summer; I haven’t even put my sweaters away.

Spring began with an excellent opening act here in southern Yavapai County. In case you didn’t get out, a colorful ribbon of wildflowers lined the roads for weeks. They’re now drying in the heat and will soon turn to the thick golden straw that catches fire if you look at it cross-eyed. As happens every year, the public service announcements are already predicting 2020 to be the worst fire season ever.

Even with the temperatures over 100, spring isn’t over. The second act is about to begin. That’s when the palo verde trees take center stage and sprout bright yellow blossoms. Beneath their canopy, creosote bushes put out dark green leaves punctuated with tiny dots of yellow flowers. While they’re full, they look like a proper shrubbery that any gardener would be proud to have in their garden. But don’t go planting one in your back yard. I’m sarcastic; they’re a weed.

I’m glad that we snuck out for an afternoon and got some desert colors for you—like this week’s featured photo. On the hike that I described in last week’s post, I dawdled along the way back to the truck and shot some flowers near the path. The best of the bunch was this one that I call Cholla and Brittlebush. I find that both of these subjects are hard to capture. Mature cholla is pretty when the light is behind the needles, but as they grow, the stalks are bare and unattractive. Brittlebush flowers grow like a dome covering the plant, but the yellow washes out in bright sunlight.

Cholla and Brittlebush - A young cholla and brittlebush growing under a palo verde tree near Wickenburg, Arizona.
Cholla and Brittlebush – A young cholla and brittlebush growing under a palo verde tree near Wickenburg, Arizona.

None of that happens in this week’s image. I found them growing under a palo verde tree. The cholla is a young plant, so it hasn’t had time to drop its lower branches. The backlight shows off the sharp needles, and the cactus shades the flowers. The flowers at the bottom are more rooted in color, while the sunlight washes out those at the top. There’s even a gap where the olive-colored brittlebush leaves show. The photo may not be a still life worthy of Irving Penn, but I think it explains why April is the best time to experience the Sonoran Desert.

You can see a larger version of Cholla and Brittlebush on its Web Page by clicking here. I hope you enjoy it. Next week, I’ll begin a new chapter on our back road travel adventures. I’m keeping our destination a secret so the authorities won’t stop us when we sneak out under cover of darkness. Come back next week to see what we found—if we successfully evade the quarantine police.

Until next time — jw

Hidden Springs Ranch Picture of the Week

The cottonwood trees I showcased in this month have told a story of winter in the uplands of Arizona—a part of our state we Zonies keep secret from outsiders. The photos show as much about the chilly morning, crystal clear air, and open spaces as the trees do. After all, there’s nothing special about cottonwood trees—they’re everywhere. Their Latin name is Populas, which means “People’s Tree.” (Wow, did you catch the irony? I have a series of People’s Tree photographs that I shot in Peeples Valley. Yeah, I meant to do that all along).

Although you can find cottonwoods throughout the United States—in one form or another—they’re not widely used in landscaping. In Arizona at least, some homeowners associations explicitly forbid them in their association rules. Although they are fast-growing and provide shade, they’re messy, attack water lines, and are prone to disease, so as they age—just like me—parts fall off. One of their significant irritants is in their name. The mature trees spread seeds to the wind on white cotton-like tufts. When seeds are in the air, it can look like its snowing, and quite a few folks are allergic to them.

If you’re a rancher and you want a fast-growing tree to say, line your driveway, there is an alternative—the Arizona Ash. These trees grow tall quickly, but are less messy, live longer, respond to pruning, and they are more pest resistant. They also have more fall-color than cottonwood, but only slightly. The ash doesn’t get that gnarly old look that interests me.

Hidden Springs Ranch - Well manicured Arizona Ass trees line the drive of the Hidden Springs Ranch in Peeples Valley.
Hidden Springs Ranch – Well manicured Arizona Ash trees line the drive of the Hidden Springs Ranch in Peeples Valley.

When I was shooting my Peeples Valley trees, I first thought that the Hidden Springs Rancher lined his driveway with our friend, the mighty cottonwood. That’s why I photographed the entrance. On second glance, I did a face-slap and thought, “Of course!” Unless you wanted to drive over broken branches all of the time, you would pick a different kind of tree. But, it was winter, and from afar, a bare tree is a bare tree.

I included this week’s photo—called Hidden Springs Ranch—in this series because … well, I needed five pictures instead of the usual four, and my first impressions were wrong. My intentions were good. In case you’re wondering, Hidden Springs is the other ranch in Peeples Valley—they raise horses instead of cattle.

You can see a larger version of Hidden Springs Ranch on its Web Page by clicking here. I hope you like it. Come back next week when we begin a new series from another Arizona back road.

Until next time — jw

Peeples Valley Cottonwood Picture of the Week

Four years ago, when Queen Anne and I moved to Congress, one of the decisions we made was to cut-the-cable. Well, it wasn’t a hard decision to make because Cox doesn’t cover this area, and we were tired of paying Dish Network more than a hundred bucks a month. Fortunately, we’re in line-of-sight with the South Mountain antennas, so we get the major local channels sharper than a cable signal. To supplement our viewing choices, we bought a TIVO box and signed up for the fastest Internet available in our neck of the woods, and we get the gist of current shows via YouTube.

One of the channels we repeatedly watch is The Daily Show with Trevor Noah. It’s a comedy-news show that we’ve enjoyed since Jon Stewart was the host, and Trevor has carried on well. Last week, or maybe it was the week before, he had a segment titled Is This the Way We Die? – Coronavirus. For Anne and I, that question struck close to home.

I usually shy away from writing about current events—I don’t know why, because I can’t count the number of times that people have called me an opinionated jerk—but, this week, I feel like talking about the elephant in the corner. I know that most of us will catch this bug and shrug it off in a couple of weeks. However, there’s that small percentage of elderly with underlying health issues that are at risk. With my diabetes and Anne’s recent surgery, we are that group. So it got my full attention. I’ve been preoccupied lately with my mortality, and asking myself, “Is this how it all ends?” I’ve concluded that I haven’t run out of film yet, and we’re going to carry on. I always knew that there was an upside in being an anti-social curmudgeon, and my time has finally come. I’ve practiced Social-Distancing for years, so I pretty much have it down pat. Now, if I could get one of you to throw a pack of toilet paper up on the porch now and again, we’ll be fine.

To maintain your sanity, the doctors recommend that you get out of the house and exercise. Walk around your block, ride a bicycle, or just spend some time outside, but stay away from crowds. I’m glad they urged that because it means I can still go out and shoot photographs. With my kind of subjects, I don’t interact with other people so that I won’t harm them or myself, and that brings me to this week’s featured image.

Peeples Valley Cottonwood - An old cottonwood tree growing along a rancher's irrigation line.
Peeples Valley Cottonwood – An old cottonwood tree growing along a rancher’s irrigation line.

This picture is my fourth image in the series of Peeples Valley Cottonwood trees, and this one is called Peeples Valley Cottonwood. It’s an old cottonwood tree growing along a rancher’s irrigation trench. In case you didn’t recognize it, it’s the same tree that is the subject of the first in this series—Broken Cottonwood. The angle is slightly different, and I used a polarizing filter to darken the sky. I think it gives the tree a three-dimensional look.

You can see a larger version of Peeples Valley Cottonwood on its Web Page by clicking here. I hope you like it. Be sure to come back next week for the final portrait from Peeples Valley.

Until next time — jw

p.s. I know that these are not going to be the easiest of times, but we’ll get through this. Be kind to one another and find something you enjoy doing. Listen to what the doctors say and stop obsessing on the news.

Meadow Cottonwood Picture of the Week

The part of Yavapai County where Queen Anne and I live is littered with the names of pioneers that came to Arizona looking for gold after the gold rush in California panned out. These places include the towns of Wickenburg, Yarnell, and Stanton—the Weaver Mountains—and Peeples Valley. I didn’t misspell the valley name. It’s not a great commune up there in the mountains, but a rather a lovely flat valley named after a prospector named A. H. Peeples.

I’ve mentioned him before in previous posts. With a set of initials like that, I was relieved (although disappointed) to find that his full name was Abraham Harlow Peeples. He was on an Army expedition lead by Captain Joseph Walker and guided by Pauline Weaver—who, despite the name, was a man. While camping along a creek, some horses (or mules, depending on which story you read) wandered off during the night. Walker sent a couple of wranglers to fetch the animals. When they returned to camp, they talked about gold on top of the hill and showed pockets full of nuggets. Peeples and the rest of the party went to see for themselves. Arizona Place Names said that Abraham picked up $7,000 in gold before breakfast—and that’s in 1863 money. Anyway, he used his new wealth to build a ranch in the valley that bears his name.

Before Anne and I settled in Congress, we looked at several homes up there. It has advantages. With a higher altitude, it has milder summers but doesn’t get snowed in during winter. The valley has beautiful mountain views with the Bradshaw’s to the east the Weaver Range on the south. The little town has a bar and convenience store. What more could you want? However, the closest grocery store is the Safeway in Wickenburg, and that’s where we buy groceries now—fifteen miles in the other direction.

The Maughan Ranch owns most of the land in the valley, and they keep adding to their property. Along Az. 89, there are painted white fences, with black cattle grazing behind them. Our real estate agent joked that the painters are full-time staff because they’ll never finish.

Meadow Cottonwood - a single tree grows in a meadow ravine ensuring a good water supply.
Meadow Cottonwood – a single tree grows in a meadow ravine, ensuring a plentiful water supply.

Lucky for me, the fences don’t block the view of the trees featured in this month’s set of photographs. For this week’s featured image—called Meadow Cottonwood—I leaned against the fence to brace myself when I snapped the photo. This dormant cottonwood is a middle-aged tree that found a meadow ravine to grow in. Backlit by the sun, I’m happy how the delicate branches contrast against the white sky.

You can see a larger version of Meadow Cottonwood on its Web Page by clicking here. I hope you like it. Be sure to come back next week for another cottonwood portrait from Peeples Valley.

Until next time — jw

Cottonwood Grove Picture of the Week

I want to begin this week’s post by thanking Deb Poteet for her advice about wearing fish-net stockings. If you missed what she said, it was a helpful comment to last week’s post. She said that she got her information straight from the Candy Store dancers—the gentlemen’s club on Cave Creek Road near Costco. It made both Queen Anne and me wonder what she was doing hanging around old strip clubs. Deb really does surprise us sometimes.

On another subject, Her Majesty is improving with each day. She goes to physical therapy three times a week and limps around the house without her walker or a cane. When I remind her that she doesn’t need to do that, she drops the Chester impersonation. It’s interesting to see how fast a woman can recover when you walk up to her death bed with a bottle of Dawn dish detergent and ask, “How much of this do I put in the dryer?”

Cottonwood Grove - A small grove of cottonwood grow along a dry brook in Peeples Valley, Arizona.
Cottonwood Grove – A small grove of cottonwood grows along a dry brook in Peeples Valley, Arizona.

Meanwhile, back up the mountain in Peeples Valley, and the second in my series of cottonwood tree images. This week’s featured image that I call Cottonwood Grove was another image taken on the Maughan Ranch north of town. Like other members of the Poplar family, these large fast-growing trees only grow where there’s a good water supply. In this image, there’s about a half dozen growing along the banks of a dry brook, which eventually feeds Kirkland Creek. Scenes like this one are familiar throughout the west.

In an Arizona Geography class that I took at Arizona State University, the professor told us how the trees filled the length of the Salt River bed. A family of beavers dammed the river under the Mill Avenue Bridge while the river still flowed. When the Corps of Engineers built the dams east of town, the Salt River stopped flowing, and the trees died, rotted, and eventually, a summer monsoon storm blew them over. That would have been a swell topic for a photo essay, but I wasn’t here then.

You can see a larger version of Cottonwood Grove on its Web Page by clicking here. I hope you like it. Be sure to come back next week for another cottonwood portrait from Peeples Valley.

Until next time — jw

Mount Tipton Wilderness Picture of the Week

Since our trip to Pearce Ferry, I’ve written about the Grand Wash Cliffs, and rightly so. Last week, I mentioned that they formed the western edge of the Colorado Plateau and that the great river bisects the cliffs. But the Hualapai Valley has another mountain range on its west flank, and they’re the Cerbat Mountains. They fill the 23 miles between Kingman and Dolan Springs. On the drive to Las Vegas on US 93, they’re to the east side of the highway as you travel north through the Detrital Valley.

There are some old mines located in the Cerbats; Cerbat, Mineral Park, and Chloride. Traveling north from Kingman, you first pass the ghost town of Cerbat, which is hidden at the end of a challenging (4wd) road. The next is Mineral Park, which is due east of Santa Clause (that’s another story unto itself). Finally, the biggest one is Chloride—whose tailings are visible from Highway 93. I think Chloride is still active, but I don’t know for what they’re digging.

Mt. Tipton Wilderness Area - The jagged peaks in the Mt. Tipton Wilderness Area are at the north end of the Cerbat Mountain Range.
Mt. Tipton Wilderness Area – The jagged peaks in the Mt. Tipton Wilderness Area is at the north end of the Cerbat Mountain Range.

More interesting to me is the Mount Tipton Wilderness Area, which is almost at the northern end of the Cerbat Range. At 7148 Mt. Tipton is the tallest peak, but the wilderness area also has some jagged peaks that made me stop to take this week’s featured image—even though the sun had gone behind the looming storm clouds. I named the photo Mt. Tipton Wilderness, and it shows dried grasses and creosote bush against the barren granite mountains.

On the whole, I enjoyed our drive to Pearce Ferry. There were a lot of beautiful sights found there, and I can see returning in the future to do more serious photography. That’s the downside of these trips. They’re to photography what Cliff Notes are to books. To get the best results, you need to study and understand the subject.

On the other hand, we’ve only begun to explore Arizona’s back roads, and there’s so much more to see. I feel like I wasted the first two-thirds of my adulthood working for a paycheck. However, I understand that I wouldn’t be here if I hadn’t. I hope I have enough time to finish it all.

You can see a larger version of Mt. Tipton Wilderness on its Web Page by clicking here. I hope you enjoy seeing it. Next week I have a surprise for you. Something completely different, so I hope we’ll see you then.

Until next time — jw

Garnet Mountain Picture of the Week

When I was a younger man, I had too many hobbies. Besides photography, I raced cars, fished, listened to music, and gorged on food and wine. Since retiring, we’ve downsized. I’ve given up cars, fishing, and expensive restaurants. We live on a pension now, so photography is my last indulgence—and it’s a good thing that I don’t have to buy film anymore, else I’d have to throw that out the window too.

It took a while to adapt to Arizona living. Sure, half the year is divine, but summers are hell—literally. So, as every good Zonie knows, you head for the hills to escape the heat and humidity of the monsoons. The other option is to close the drapes, lock the doors, and hibernate in front of the telly. As an aspiring angler, I bought a new edition of Bob Hirsch’s Best 100 Arizona Fishing Holes every year. They never changed, but I always read the ink off my copy by the time the Outdoors Show rolled around. I preferred fishing for trout instead of bass, so we’d make our pilgrimages to where the waters were cold: the Mogollon Rim, White Mountains, Lake Powell, or Lee’s Ferry—if the weather was good.

On the trip that Queen Anne and I made to Pierce Ferry for this month’s topic, I kept asking myself, “Why haven’t I been here before? This part of Arizona is beautiful and very photogenic.” I think the simple answer is that there are no trout here, so I didn’t care. Of course, there’s the Black Canyon below Hoover Dam, but it’s 675′ above sea level. That’s lower than Phoenix, and black rocks surround it. Besides, I got skunked on the one trip that we made, so I never went back.

Hualapai Valley, as I said, is Basin-and-Range topography—like Nevada. It’s flanked on the east by the southern end of the Grand Wash Cliffs, while the Cerbat Mountains line the west. The valley floor’s low spot is Red Lake—which is dry most of the year. Orchards surround the lake, but I don’t know how successful they are. Hualapai Valley is also home to a large grove of Joshua Trees, which fills an area about the same size as ours in Yavapai County.

It’s the Grand Wash Cliffs that caught my attention on the map. They’re a long string of mountains—above and below the Colorado River, forming the western edge of the Colorado Plateau. They’re the transition to the Great Basin Desert.

Garnet Mountain - Joshua and sage grow to the foot of snow-covered Garnet Mountain.
Garnet Mountain – Joshua and sage grow to the foot of snow-covered Garnet Mountain.

This week’s featured image, Garnet Mountain, shows Joshua Trees and sage growing to the mountain’s feet. The mountain is over 6,000 ft high and has snow from previous winter storms. The unnamed pointy peak is closer but a thousand feet shorter, so that’s why it’s not snow-capped. Together, they show two of the geological forces that shaped Arizona. Block shapes are generally uplifts caused by plate tectonics, while pointy mountains are usually volcanic. I like what we saw on this visit, so I’m planning a trip to the Colorado River’s north side later this year, but to do that, I’ll need to travel via Utah or Nevada, so I’ll need some slot machine money.

You can see a larger version of Garnet Mountain on its Web Page by clicking here. I hope you enjoy seeing it. Join us next week as we drive home and stop for more photos.

Until next time — jw