tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-22422283703004740632024-03-13T04:29:03.529+01:00Déjà vu - down memory lane in CaliforniaDuring April-May 2010 I rented a studio in Berkeley from my landlady from way back in my student days in 1976/77. These two months were spent in a nostalgic mood around UCB and the East Bay at large. This blog tells you about my experiences. A book has also been written on this theme, "Fiat Lux! Down Memory Lane in Californa". See the website for that book at emsvision.comEmil Emshttp://www.blogger.com/profile/07815643585218883358noreply@blogger.comBlogger65125tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-2242228370300474063.post-2007710116586492332015-06-26T19:17:00.000+02:002017-09-29T09:00:33.345+02:00IS ALL SAID AND DONE?<div dir="ltr" style="text-align: left;" trbidi="on">
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<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;"><span style="font-family: "times" , "times new roman" , serif; font-size: small;"><i>Fish Pond – a "nonagenarian" perspective</i></span></td></tr>
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When I came back to Stockholm from my two months' visit to Berkeley in June 2010, an intriguing miniseries was shown on Swedish television. It was called "<a href="https://en.wikipedia.org/wiki/John_Adams_(miniseries)">John Adams"</a> and gave us Swedes a refreshing course in the American independence years. Educative as it was, there is only one episode that etched itself onto my memory. It dealt with President John Adams as a nonagenarian.<br />
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Old and worn down, almost crippled and bowed he staggered along in his garden, grasping with his trembling right a staff whilst leaning heavily on his son. Still, his mind was unbroken and full of the uncanny creativity of age. This showed clearly in a declaration he made to his offspring, which I take the liberty of quoting verbatim:<br />
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<span style="font-family: "times" , "times new roman" , serif; font-size: medium;">"<i>I have seen the Queen of France with 18 million livres of diamonds on her person. But I declare that all the charms of her face and figure, added to all the glitter of her jewels, did not impress me as much as that little shrub right there! My mother always said, that I never delighted enough in the mundane. But now I find, if i look at even the smallest thing, my imagination begins to roam the milky way!</i>"</span><br />
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<i><span style="font-family: "times" , "times new roman" , serif;">… did not impress me as much as that little shrub right there!</span></i></div>
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<i><span style="font-family: "times" , "times new roman" , serif;"><a href="https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=w1jhv6yG6_E">John Adams (mini-series)</a>. Click on the picture to see the sequence<a href="https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=w1jhv6yG6_E"><span style="color: #0042ee;">!</span></a></span></i></div>
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I have not quite yet arrived at that level of enlightenment, even if I see myself closer to John Adams' stage of life than to that of Emil Ems only five years ago! Still, this little story got me thinking. I have been a very busy man during the first seven years of my retirement, restlessly hammering away at the keys of my computer, so as to arrive at the ultimate end: the publishing of my great "oeuvre". Now that is finished, I am somewhat at a loss. What should I do now? Can there possibly be a task still worth doing?<br />
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<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;"><i><span style="font-family: "times" , "times new roman" , serif; font-size: small;">Fish pond – a "septuagenarian" perspective</span></i></td></tr>
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The John Adams episode told me to relax. As we grow older, the world around us appears to be shrinking. Old friends pass away, old passions fade, formerly strong feelings only leave an afterglow, however pleasant. But the genuine urge to investigate the universe remains; the brain accepts that the world has become smaller, and starts appreciating details in the small.<br />
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<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;"><span style="font-family: "times" , "times new roman" , serif; font-size: small;"><i>"Objets trouvés" in Marcia Donahue's garden "gallery"</i></span></td></tr>
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Thus, I can permit myself to cease dreaming of grand projects. Even small ones, which would concentrate on what my aging mind is interested in, will suffice to keep the creative flame alive and burning.<br />
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A recent experience reinforces this conclusion. I am presently back in Berkeley for a short stay. This time no grand projects, just the simple task of meeting old friends and acquaintances, and present them my new book as a gift. In that context, one of those, <a href="http://emilems.blogspot.se/2012/05/its-potluck-time.html">Karl Reeh,</a> invited me to visit an old artist friend of <i>his</i>, called <a href="http://www.recreatingeden.com/index.php?pid=8&season=03...30&episode=29">Marcia Donahue</a>.<br />
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<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;"><span style="font-family: "times" , "times new roman" , serif; font-size: small;"><i>This picture and the following are all taken in Marcia Donahue's garden</i></span></td></tr>
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Now, Marcia is an intriguing artist. She takes a delight in shaping small objects, hiding them away in her lustrous garden. The latter is so densely planted that it likens a wild jungle in South Asia, barely leaving room for small pathways and, in its center, a small pond where golden fish are feeding on the water lilies.<br />
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Each Sunday afternoon, she keeps her garden "gallery" open to visitors. Whilst Karl was chatting with the artist, I ambled around within the dense greenery, admiring all the miniature marvels created by Marcia. Unfortunately, my camera chose to quit on me, to my despair. But the artist, recognizing my creative eagerness to document it all, graciously gave me permit to revisit the garden at any time, whenever I would deem conditions favorable for picture taking.<br />
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So Saturday last, in late afternoon, I got my act together and walked down to Wheeler Street to revisit this enchanted place. The result can be seen in the pictures I am adding below. They all inspired me greatly, let me tell you. But before letting you look at them, a final exclamation seems in order, in the spirit of John Adams, to honor a great Berkeley artist and for having found a new perspective on life and work:<br />
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There is no hurry anymore, when all is said and done!<br />
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<span style="font-family: "times" , "times new roman" , serif; font-size: large;"><i><a href="https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=BQTpV5I87HI"><span id="goog_2110183562"></span>"Rejoice evermore!"</a></i></span><br />
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<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;"><span style="font-family: "times" , "times new roman" , serif; font-size: small;"><i>Sculpture shaped by <span style="background-color: white; color: #222222;">Sara Tool, Marcia Donahue's daughter</span> </i></span></td></tr>
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Emil Emshttp://www.blogger.com/profile/07815643585218883358noreply@blogger.com10Wheeler Street, Berkeley, CA 94705, USA37.8548013 -122.2644318000000137.8485328 -122.27451680000001 37.861069799999996 -122.25434680000001tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-2242228370300474063.post-84993643934664489572014-02-15T16:30:00.000+01:002014-02-15T23:00:36.157+01:00… KEEPS ROLLIN' ALONG<div dir="ltr" style="text-align: left;" trbidi="on">
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<tr><td class="tr-caption">Early morning on Colorado River near Moab</td></tr>
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This is the last post in the Colorado Plateau sequence. It is only fitting that it starts with a view of the Colorado itself, in one of its more peaceful moods, winding its way in a broad and shallow valley towards Moab. </div>
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Looking upwards to the cliffs bordering the stream you may get the impression that this Lord of the Plateau is timeless, that he always has flowed and shaped the great landscape around it. This would be wrong, of course, since he has been running along only the past 100 million years or so of Earth' existence. Still, this appears a heck of a time for a river, even a great, long and deep-cut as this one. </div>
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Geologists believe that the Colorado has streamed across the plains already at a time when this land was still at sea-level. Signs of this can yet be glanced in the many meanders, quasi fossiled into the plateau, and stemming from a time when the land was almost level. As the plateau started to rise gradually, around 60 million years ago, and began to tilt, the river just continued to dig itself down into the meanders, even if an increasing gradient would have dictated a more direct course. </div>
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<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">Colarado River Meander in Canyonlands National Park</td></tr>
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Ever since I first visited the Colorado Plateau, back in 1976, I have been fascinated by the grand formations in stone carved by that river. But not only that, as we drove our car through the colorful landscape, I gradually got to grasp the immensity of Earth' history that lies behind the manifold of "scriptures", carved in stone, embellishing the wide ranges around us, be it within river valleys or without.</div>
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As a youngster, my main interest centered firmly – you should not be surprised – on challenging adventures, like climbing red walls, descending deep gorges and generally having nature close to my skin. As I have grown older, my imagination has become more far ranging, and I have begun to understand and appreciate the Great Story of Earth written in stone in the Colorado Geologic "Schoolbook".</div>
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Pondering this "book", it gradually dawns on you that geologic progress on Earth – barely noticeable while it is on-going, observable only through its effects – is governed by two grand principles only: the principle of upheaval and the principal of restoring. Over the eons, as the great shelves – which constitute Earth' crust – are moving and grinding at each other, their collision causes great uprises, forming mountains and high plateaus, as well as forming deep abysses – where the shelves move apart. As soon as these upheavals appear, the ever-lasting power of erosion sets in, grinding down mountains and high plateaus and filling in the voids. It is as if a strict mother were perpetually flattening a bed sheet's creases created continuously by her eager children. On the Colorado Plateau, we can observe just about the mid-point of that grinding down process. </div>
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<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">Midday view of Colorado Valley, seen from the Fisher Towers. Arches N P on the Plateau</td></tr>
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This everlasting process of creation and destruction may lead some of us to the question "What is the meaning of all this?". As far as I am concerned, the only meaning I can grasp is that there is none. Or, if you prefer, that the process provides its own meaning. Does this sound far fetched to you? Well, don't we like to say that the journey is its own meaning, irrespective of purpose and goal?</div>
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To my mind, our life is a mirror image – although in infinitesimal miniature – of that great process of upheaval and leveling. We are born, which is a great act of uprising, creating new life. But even in our growing-up stage, we are already subject to the powers of degradation, which come more and more to the foreground, the older we get. Eventually we have to succumb to those powers, which leads to our ultimate end and decay. On a geologic scale, this is nothing, but for us as individuals, our life is everything. </div>
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Hence, I believe that our own life has meaning only insofar, as we ourselves take charge and make the most of it. There is no higher power looking out for us. When we were young, we did this without thinking. Our instincts were guiding us to lead an active and fulfilling life. At the more mature stages of our stay on Earth we have to be more deliberate in seeking fulfillment. I myself tend nowadays to look at my life – which is mostly gone – as a story I have to bring to a good end, with deeds that speak for me whilst I am still alive and, if possible, a while thereafter. Hence, the importance for me of having an internet presence. </div>
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<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">Hoodoo in Arches National Park</td></tr>
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It saddens me to say that the present blog post marks not only the end of the Utah Sequence, but also the end of the overall blog "Déjà vu …". It forms thus the Epilogue to a larger adventure. The most hardy readers among you may have noticed that this is not the first epilogue in the series. I had planned to finish the blog already twice before (<a href="http://emilems.blogspot.se/2010/07/epilogue.html">Epilogue</a>; and <a href="http://emilems.blogspot.se/2012/07/magic-in-unexpected.html">Magic in the Unexpected</a>). But, as we say in Sweden, "Tredje gången gillt" (Third time around is final).<br />
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By now, and within the past four years, I have written fully <i style="font-weight: bold;">64 Chapters </i>within the blog, containing almost <b><i>800</i></b><b style="font-style: italic;"> pictures</b>. In retrospect, I am compelled to consider this as one of the major tasks completed in my life. When I started this work, little did I suspect that such a wide ranging story would leave my fingers; so I am glad that the story grew on me as time went on.<br />
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Permit me to extend a sincere "<i style="font-weight: bold;">Thank You</i>" to all you faithful readers that have been following me along the journey. For some time now, each new post has been opened by around 150 viewers within two days of its appearance. Within a week, this usually rises above 250 visits. The most popular Chapters have attracted more than a thousand visitors. To my great pleasure, around 50 visitors have been following the blog faithfully throughout these four years. It is especially pleasing to me that many among those have written numerous comments on my humble posts. All in all, I have received some <i style="font-weight: bold;">300 Comments</i>.<br />
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<tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="http://3.bp.blogspot.com/-IkFAQ5TxzMo/Uv4T1af1v4I/AAAAAAAAISM/srWaH7cuun8/s1600/DSC_0243+Duplet+Display.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" src="http://3.bp.blogspot.com/-IkFAQ5TxzMo/Uv4T1af1v4I/AAAAAAAAISM/srWaH7cuun8/s1600/DSC_0243+Duplet+Display.jpg" height="322" width="400" /></a></td></tr>
<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">Salt Wash near Delicate Arch Trailhead, Arches National Park</td></tr>
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I am especially thankful to those commentators that have encouraged me to turn (the first half of) the blog into a book. Without their moral support, I would never have managed to spend two years of my life to finalize the publication "<a href="http://emsvision.com/">Fiat Lux! Down Memory Lane in California</a>". For that reason, permit me to single out these heroes of persuasion: Professors Lars Werin and Per Wijkman, as well as my good friends H C Cars, Klaus Bröning, Heidi Harman, Kari Lantto and Richard Murray.<br />
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Still, there remains the task to pay a final tribute to a great institution and a great landscape:<br />
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The first is due to the most endearing academic institution known to man. UC Berkeley, you welcomed me with warm generosity; not only once, when I approached you as a timid youngster, but even a second time, when I dared to come back as an old man to savor the fullness of your splendor. This blog is for you! Fiat Lux!<br />
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Last but not least, I will always keep the wonderful nature in the Four Corners region in fond memory. You invited me to your mountain tops and deep valleys, for me to explore as a young man, and you opened up your grand book of Earth' history for me, when I returned, too weak and fumbling to repeat the adventures of my youth. Colorado Plateau, let me praise you, you are a treasure to mankind!<br />
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<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="font-size: 12.731481552124023px;"><a href="https://archive.org/details/explorationofcol1961powe">The great explorer</a></td></tr>
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It is only fitting to end this blog with some words of Colorado's great explorer, who in a sentence or two captured more of the Plateau's essence than I was able to do in more than ten blog posts.<br />
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<i><span style="font-family: Helvetica; font-size: 12px;">"The landscape everywhere, away from the river, is of rock – cliffs of rock, tables of rock, plateaus of rock, terraces of rock, crags of rock – ten thousand strangely carved forms; rocks everywhere, and no vegetation, no soil, no sand. . . . When thinking of these rocks one must not conceive of piles of boulders or heaps of fragments, but of a whole land of naked rock, with giant forms carved on it: cathedral-shaped buttes, towering hundreds of thousands of feet, cliffs that cannot be scaled, and canyon walls that shrink the river into insignificance, with vast, hollow domes and tall pinnacles and shafts set on the verge overhead; and all highly colored – buff, gray, red, brown, and chocolate – never lichened, never moss covered, but bare, and often polished."</span></i><br />
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<tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="http://3.bp.blogspot.com/-TBsBw0UlCa0/Uv3wHrqXSDI/AAAAAAAAIRU/CQJ1Bh5PUEs/s1600/35+view+of+castleton+and+rectory+fisher+tower+trail+moab.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" src="http://3.bp.blogspot.com/-TBsBw0UlCa0/Uv3wHrqXSDI/AAAAAAAAIRU/CQJ1Bh5PUEs/s1600/35+view+of+castleton+and+rectory+fisher+tower+trail+moab.jpg" height="400" width="381" /></a></td></tr>
<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">Castle Towers seen from Fisher Towers Trail</td></tr>
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Emil Emshttp://www.blogger.com/profile/07815643585218883358noreply@blogger.com15tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-2242228370300474063.post-46511978237746851382014-02-08T16:07:00.001+01:002014-02-13T17:01:22.056+01:00JUVENILE EBULLIENCE<div dir="ltr" style="text-align: left;" trbidi="on">
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<tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="http://1.bp.blogspot.com/-xllZh-xQfR8/UvH5FdeDIMI/AAAAAAAAIL0/W9pu3O2Qs5Q/s1600/00+climbing+corkscrew+at+ancient+art+formation+moab_1.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" src="http://1.bp.blogspot.com/-xllZh-xQfR8/UvH5FdeDIMI/AAAAAAAAIL0/W9pu3O2Qs5Q/s1600/00+climbing+corkscrew+at+ancient+art+formation+moab_1.jpg" height="640" width="404" /></a></td></tr>
<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">Climbing the Corkscrew, Ancient Art Formation, Fisher Towers</td></tr>
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There is a very special place to be found near Moab, that seems to bring out the most vigorous in us, youngster and veteran alike. It is a landscape of gothic spires, full of Gaudi-esque delicacy and statuesque grandeur, and of a color not unlike the brown baked bricks on church towers you can observe in ancient cities on the Southern Baltic coast. Walking amongst surreal sculptures, ambling below towers as large as skyscrapers and descending into canyons like avenues on Manhattan, and all of that in the clear air of nature unencumbered by the activities of modern city life, renders you hilarious and eager to exploit your physical capacity to the fullest.<br />
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<tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="http://1.bp.blogspot.com/-J_IbWPcvUt0/Uu62-zbIr9I/AAAAAAAAIJo/q-DPwRTclrI/s1600/09+kingfisher+tower+and+ancient+art+formation+moab.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" src="http://1.bp.blogspot.com/-J_IbWPcvUt0/Uu62-zbIr9I/AAAAAAAAIJo/q-DPwRTclrI/s1600/09+kingfisher+tower+and+ancient+art+formation+moab.jpg" height="400" width="400" /></a></td></tr>
<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">Kingfisher Tower and Ancient Art Formation in early morning shade</td></tr>
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If your are still young, your dearest wish is to acclaim the crest of any vertical incline you meet along the way, however funky and difficult. But climbing is just the beginning of your exercise. Why not add to it by jumping from the highest tops, parachute or glider at your back, and fully savoring the red cliffs you pass by on your way down, as well as, in the far distance, vermillion plateaus beckoning you to come closer, and even the silver ribbon of the Colorado resting in lazy slings along high cliffs to the West.<br />
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If that would prove too easy, why not put a line between some high tops and test your slack-lining skills by balancing from peak to peak? There is no end to activities to satisfy your thirst for adventure in between those miracle towers! You don't believe me? Well, take a look at this <a href="http://www.youtube.com/watch?v=njsfr4rHuWA">VIDEO</a>! Pictures say more than a thousand words.<br />
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By now you could have guessed that I am talking about the <a href="http://www.americantrails.org/nationalrecreationtrails/blm/fishertower.html">Fisher Towers</a> of fame, reachable in just half an hour by car from Moab, following a beautiful road upstreams the Colorado river.<br />
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<tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="http://3.bp.blogspot.com/-vrfQb-Rcb_I/Uu4v2NV5CNI/AAAAAAAAIJY/7SqLe3QHn48/s1600/02+colorado+river+valley+Moab.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" src="http://3.bp.blogspot.com/-vrfQb-Rcb_I/Uu4v2NV5CNI/AAAAAAAAIJY/7SqLe3QHn48/s1600/02+colorado+river+valley+Moab.jpg" height="290" width="400" /></a></td></tr>
<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">Travelling North on Utah Route 128 in the Colorado River Valley </td></tr>
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The closeness to civilization of this fountain of youth, as well as the compactness of the scenery (there is but one trail to see it all, taking only 4 hours roundtrip), is very tempting for anyone, not only the youngsters. Even us veterans get wings under our feet when treading under those brick red giants and, believe it or not, doddlers flatly refuse to be carried by their parents, insisting on walking the walk, on unsteady small paddies and being blessedly unconcerned with the dangers of slanting slick rock and unsecured crevices. As proof, why not click on this <a href="http://www.caseysmith.net/pictures/2013FisherTowers/">BLOG POST</a> to watch a baby girl having fun on the slopes!<br />
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There is only one drawback, and it concerns dog owners. About mid-distance on the trail, there is a deep cleft to cross, where the park services have put a ladder, so you can descend easily on the slippery stones. This proves a ladder too far for men's best friend and many a master has been forced to cut short his adventure tour so as not to miss the company of his dear companion.<br />
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<tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="http://1.bp.blogspot.com/-m5IqLEvXFPA/Uu7DNJ9pZDI/AAAAAAAAIJ4/RQ9F-ZiM_gg/s1600/31+hikers+at+ladder+gulch+fisher+towers+moab.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" src="http://1.bp.blogspot.com/-m5IqLEvXFPA/Uu7DNJ9pZDI/AAAAAAAAIJ4/RQ9F-ZiM_gg/s1600/31+hikers+at+ladder+gulch+fisher+towers+moab.jpg" height="305" width="400" /></a></td></tr>
<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">Where dogs won't tread</td></tr>
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With all this excitement going on, does it surprise you that companies have joined in, to get recognition for themselves with commercials from the area? Indeed, there is an iconic video, produced by Citibank, that you may wish to have a glance at. In particular, Members of the fairer sex among you readers should definitely click on this <a href="http://www.youtube.com/watch?v=Gj_Ab4sxTDo">PIECE</a>. It will tickle your feminist sensitivities, I am sure!<br />
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<tr><td style="text-align: center;"><span style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><a href="http://www.youtube.com/watch?v=Gj_Ab4sxTDo"><img border="0" src="http://2.bp.blogspot.com/-yXiHXiW4aXQ/UvC8XsEYriI/AAAAAAAAIKI/oUxdR9SOm8Q/s1600/Screen+Shot+2014-01-21+at+15.55.00.png" height="266" width="400" /></a></span></td></tr>
<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">Climber on top of "Corkscrew". Screenshot from <a href="http://www.youtube.com/watch?v=Gj_Ab4sxTDo">Citbank Commercial</a></td></tr>
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But enough of these trivia. Time is too short to neglect the grand scheme of geologic progress! The Fisher Towers can be understood to be the last outpost, on its Northeastern side, of the grand Colorado Plateau. It is as if nature, with its powers of erosion, had decided to make there a last big effort in creating beauty and amazing scenery, before moving on to the task of grinding away at the Rockies in Colorado to the East.<br />
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The towers are mainly built up of the so called <a href="http://geology.utah.gov/surveynotes/geosights/fishertowers.htm">Organ Rock</a> sandstone formation. This is a very old stone stratum, contained within the <a href="http://en.wikipedia.org/wiki/Cutler_Formation">Cutler Sandstone Group</a>. Those of you readers that crave a deeper understanding of this intriguing stratum, are encouraged to study this pedagogical <a href="http://www.utahgeology.org/pub28_pdf_files/Stanesco.pdf">ARTICLE</a>. The lesser mortals among you may still be interested to hear that Organ Rock sandstone has about the same age (just a bit less) as the <a href="http://emilems.blogspot.se/2014/01/le-quartier-des-schtroumpfs.html">Mesa Verde Sandstone</a> and (just a bit more than) the <a href="http://emilems.blogspot.se/2013/12/disc-world.html">White Rim Sandstone</a>. In fact, all three strata are contained in the Cutler family, which was formed in Earth' old age, in the Permian Period. So we have covered almost the whole Cutler group within three blog posts, quite a substantial achievement, don't you think?<br />
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Organ Rock stone is rather brittle and easily eroded by the forces of the seasons. This explains, why the towers' sides have a muddy look to them, as if a giant were constantly occupied with throwing big slabs of that sticky material at them.<br />
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<tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="http://2.bp.blogspot.com/-7g2P-qcb0gg/UvEBeQGrZdI/AAAAAAAAILg/ZBBZiepr7to/s1600/10+kingfisher+tower+fisher+towers+moab_1.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" src="http://2.bp.blogspot.com/-7g2P-qcb0gg/UvEBeQGrZdI/AAAAAAAAILg/ZBBZiepr7to/s1600/10+kingfisher+tower+fisher+towers+moab_1.jpg" height="640" width="404" /></a></td></tr>
<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">Kingfisher Tower, "mud"-clad, with highest top protected by Moenkopi "cap"</td></tr>
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How is it possible for large spires of Organ Rock to survive, despite the material's brittleness? Well, it is precisely that characteristic that helped to form them in the first place. The tops of the tallest spires look a bit darker than their main body. The reason is that they consist of a younger, but much hardier stone strait, from the <a href="http://en.wikipedia.org/wiki/Moenkopi_Formation">Moenkopi Formation</a>. These hardened "caps" are protecting the spires from above, whilst the seasons are busy with eating away at the sides. As result, we can admire not only the slimmest, but also the <i style="font-weight: bold;">tallest </i>free-standing natural towers in the Americas. Does it still surprise you that visitors get exhilarated simply by approaching them?<br />
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None of the above I knew, of course, when starting our last hike in Utah on an early morning, still dewy from nightly chill. I do not usually indulge in research prior to a trip, be it hiking or otherwise, much preferring to get fresh impressions from any activity about to engage in. So, at the outset, the Fisher Towers were an unknown entity for yours truly.<br />
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We were off to an early start from Moab, that morning, but I still managed to take a quick memorial shot of the garden in back of our cosy inn, as a "Goodbye" to a nice place where we had spent five pleasant nights. </div>
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<tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="http://4.bp.blogspot.com/-M7c9TU6cFlk/UvDgP6r91ZI/AAAAAAAAIK4/ndYdaWfZ0c4/s1600/01+sunflower+hill+inn+moab.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" src="http://4.bp.blogspot.com/-M7c9TU6cFlk/UvDgP6r91ZI/AAAAAAAAIK4/ndYdaWfZ0c4/s1600/01+sunflower+hill+inn+moab.jpg" height="400" width="327" /></a></td></tr>
<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">Autumn morning in garden of <a href="http://sunflowerhill.com/">Sunflower Hill Inn</a>, Moab</td></tr>
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The trip to the Fisher Towers was pleasant enough, presenting us with fresh morning views of the Colorado River valley, this time from below, so to speak. But soon we had to leave the river, taking a dirt road towards the right, which was winding its way lazily Eastward. Then came the first surprise: in the clear morning air, suddenly, around a bend, emerged a group of voluptuous red spires and walls, like the ruins of an ages old Babylonian city state. They appeared almost pink in color when you glanced at them with squinting eyes – due to the sun shining against us and the towers being in shade.<br />
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As soon as we arrived at the trail head I rushed out of the car and started shooting off with the camera. One of the shots turned out quite nicely, you can perceive the result as the second picture from the top above.<br />
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I will never forget the views that met us that morning in the lucid light engulfing the scenery. Unfortunately, I was too carried away to get really good compositions with the camera to show for it. Let me nonetheless present you with an additional view, this time away from the towers, in an Easterly direction. This view shows the plateau lying thither of Onyon Valley, the latter putting an abrupt end to the Towers region, as you will see further on in the story.</div>
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<tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="http://3.bp.blogspot.com/-1GMTu2NbPF0/UvD-s-6Cc7I/AAAAAAAAILI/krMO_tkMHx8/s1600/03+view+from+fisher+towers+trail+head+moab.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" src="http://3.bp.blogspot.com/-1GMTu2NbPF0/UvD-s-6Cc7I/AAAAAAAAILI/krMO_tkMHx8/s1600/03+view+from+fisher+towers+trail+head+moab.jpg" height="400" width="400" /></a></td></tr>
<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">View Northeast from Fisher Towers Trailhead</td></tr>
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After having climbed a bit upwards from the trailhead (as usual, I am tempted to state), we reached the basin you see above, which stretched widely Eastward; to our surprise the trail seemed to tend in the same direction, away from the mighty towers we by then were eager to explore. Still, it provided us with a marvelous view, even if it took us away from the main scenery.<br />
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Far on the horizon, we could glance some vermillion formations that border on <a href="http://www.moab-utah.com/photo/castlevalley/">Castle Valley</a>. These rocks are famous among climbers who have tired of getting excited about the Fisher Towers. The lonely tower to the far left there is called Castleton Tower, and the formation just to the right of it consists of the Refectory. It has a slim tower at its right, called The Priest. Another tower, Sister Superior, is almost hidden behind the next hill, showing only its top over it. Here is another treat for the fairer sex: don't hesitate to click on this <a href="http://vimeo.com/56075218">VIDEO</a>. You may wish to jump directly to minute 6.15, to see an engaging young lady climb Castleton Tower <b><i>without ropes</i></b> and thereupon <b><i>jump</i></b> off the top.<br />
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<tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="http://4.bp.blogspot.com/-lur_MEF9jgI/UvH8D39hDGI/AAAAAAAAIMA/B3ng5usuXjw/s1600/05+start+of+hike+fisher+towers+trail+moab.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" src="http://4.bp.blogspot.com/-lur_MEF9jgI/UvH8D39hDGI/AAAAAAAAIMA/B3ng5usuXjw/s1600/05+start+of+hike+fisher+towers+trail+moab.jpg" height="295" width="400" /></a></td></tr>
<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">The hike begins: Castle Valley towers on the horizon</td></tr>
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To our delight, the trail soon turned around and led us to the feet of the great towers we were looking forward to investigate. There began an arduous half hour of clawing our way upwards, but we hardly noticed the hardship since the high risers started to beckon behind each curve, getting more visible by the minute.<br />
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<tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="http://2.bp.blogspot.com/-GQFH-3kcjMg/UvIPgU3A6II/AAAAAAAAIMM/WgBGDgcAaJc/s1600/06+hikers+towards+kingfisher+tower+moabDSC_0030+Duplet+Display.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" src="http://2.bp.blogspot.com/-GQFH-3kcjMg/UvIPgU3A6II/AAAAAAAAIMM/WgBGDgcAaJc/s1600/06+hikers+towards+kingfisher+tower+moabDSC_0030+Duplet+Display.jpg" height="640" width="336" /></a></td></tr>
<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">Approaching the Fisher Towers. Kingfisher Tower in the background</td></tr>
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Still, there was a long way yet to climb. We had to round the towers at their "root" towards the right and start the main access from the opposite side of those walls. Whereas they beckoned pink in the shade, they would soon start to shine in brick-red when lighted by the sun, after we had arrived at their frontside at long last. And now came the first reward for our troubles. Before us the huge amphitheater of cathedral towers was opening up, and the wonderland of gothic spires became ours to enjoy!<br />
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<tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="http://4.bp.blogspot.com/-uofWzxERvAg/UvIQMQh1GpI/AAAAAAAAIMU/qOSAaWAnc08/s1600/11+kiking+towards+ancient+art+formation+and+kingfisher+tower+fisher+towers+moab.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" src="http://4.bp.blogspot.com/-uofWzxERvAg/UvIQMQh1GpI/AAAAAAAAIMU/qOSAaWAnc08/s1600/11+kiking+towards+ancient+art+formation+and+kingfisher+tower+fisher+towers+moab.jpg" height="301" width="400" /></a></td></tr>
<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">Fisher Towers Amphitheater: Ancient Art Formation at left, Kingfisher Tower at center</td></tr>
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Our trail would eventually arrive at the towers towards the right – and not even yet <i style="font-weight: bold;">in </i>the picture. But there was yet a lot of climbing to do and distance to cover. Now and then, I turned around and took pictures in the opposite direction. Here is the last one still showing Castle Valley, wishing us for now "Goodbye and Au Revoir".<br />
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<tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="http://2.bp.blogspot.com/-GBQKOdvv7M4/UvITAZ5IjwI/AAAAAAAAIMg/V41Zyxh0GLs/s1600/14+view+south+fisher+tower+trail+moab.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" src="http://2.bp.blogspot.com/-GBQKOdvv7M4/UvITAZ5IjwI/AAAAAAAAIMg/V41Zyxh0GLs/s1600/14+view+south+fisher+tower+trail+moab.jpg" height="262" width="400" /></a></td></tr>
<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">Backward look at Castle Valley</td></tr>
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After half an hour's continuing navigation along tower flanks, over and around large boulders, we arrived at one of the highlights of the trip, <a href="http://www.summitpost.org/cottontail-tower/873901">Cottontail Tower</a>. It was time for a little snack by then, since the trail, all in all, is not overly long, but rather strenuous, at least for this old-timer. Whilst munching on a sandwich, I couldn't help feeling rather small, sitting under this enormous spire, with neck aching from constantly angling the head upwards to take it all in. </div>
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The picture does not really give the structure credit; all tall towers appear small with the camera angling upwards when taking their portrait. Especially if taken on the forefront, like here. But, to give you a general idea of its height, I was looking at a top at least 300 meters above me, a bit like admiring the Empire State Building from below.</div>
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<tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="http://1.bp.blogspot.com/-Gi6e18_MGwQ/UvITE_tZfdI/AAAAAAAAIMo/VP97q_-2ulQ/s1600/15+cottontail+tower+and+kingfisher+tower+fisher+towers+moab.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" src="http://1.bp.blogspot.com/-Gi6e18_MGwQ/UvITE_tZfdI/AAAAAAAAIMo/VP97q_-2ulQ/s1600/15+cottontail+tower+and+kingfisher+tower+fisher+towers+moab.jpg" height="640" width="390" /></a></td></tr>
<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">The Group of Eight picnicking at the front of Cottontail Tower. Kingfisher Tower to the left</td></tr>
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And a good idea it was to take a rest under that top. The continued journey would prove the most adventurous part of the hike. Once having approached the right flank of the tower, there yawned a deep canyon we had to navigate, by first climbing down along the Tower's base and than bridging a gulch, ultimately the cleft where <i style="font-weight: bold;">dogs will not tread</i>. You can see the start of this precarious descent in the picture below. Please note that I could only get about half of the Tower's height into the picture. This confirms what I meant earlier, the Cottontail Tower being <i style="font-weight: bold;">one hell of a tower</i>!<br />
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<tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="http://3.bp.blogspot.com/-M33g0r9IRyQ/UvITJQPyJwI/AAAAAAAAIM0/2T4Q5oJbw08/s1600/16+cottontail+tower+canyon+fisher+towers+moab.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" src="http://3.bp.blogspot.com/-M33g0r9IRyQ/UvITJQPyJwI/AAAAAAAAIM0/2T4Q5oJbw08/s1600/16+cottontail+tower+canyon+fisher+towers+moab.jpg" height="640" width="184" /></a></td></tr>
<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">Right flank of Cottontail Tower</td></tr>
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<tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="http://4.bp.blogspot.com/-SO65NpOWKPs/UvITJawd7CI/AAAAAAAAIMw/CbS2cRkOjqI/s1600/17+hikers+in+cottontail+tower+canyon+fisher+towers+moab.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" src="http://4.bp.blogspot.com/-SO65NpOWKPs/UvITJawd7CI/AAAAAAAAIMw/CbS2cRkOjqI/s1600/17+hikers+in+cottontail+tower+canyon+fisher+towers+moab.jpg" height="400" width="400" /></a></td></tr>
<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">Start of canyon trail along Cottontail Tower's foot</td></tr>
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Let me shortly interrupt this engaging story by a <i style="font-weight: bold;">lament and condemnation!</i> Have a look at the picture below, taken of a fellow hiker from our group just when she ascended out of the cleft where <b><i>dogs will not tread</i></b>. It looks a bit strange doesn't it, as if an amateur was trying to mimic the artistic flair of a painter in watercolors!<br />
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I assure you that I had nothing to do with this. My otherwise trusty Nikon suddenly chose to get difficult on me and started to produce only these watercolor imitations whilst I was busy documenting our descent into the void. This destroyed a lot of engaging pictures for me, I can tell you! Those pictures have been "baked" by the Nikon and there is nothing I can do to change them back.<br />
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<tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="http://4.bp.blogspot.com/-i31ueZbfQ5A/UvNmAS71CBI/AAAAAAAAINU/5c2JgeISHjs/s1600/19+hiker+at+ladder+gulch+fisher+towers+tail+moab_1.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" src="http://4.bp.blogspot.com/-i31ueZbfQ5A/UvNmAS71CBI/AAAAAAAAINU/5c2JgeISHjs/s1600/19+hiker+at+ladder+gulch+fisher+towers+tail+moab_1.jpg" height="266" width="400" /></a></td></tr>
<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">Nikon camera getting funky on me!</td></tr>
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How is it possible for a camera to disobey its Master in such an atrocious manner? It appears that there is a wheel on top of the camera (a Nikon D5200), with which to choose various modes of exposure. I always leave that wheel on "A", which means that I choose the opening of the lens and the camera chooses the shutter speed. By the way, I can recommend this method for anyone, it works smoothly most of the time. Just put your lens opening at f 8 and fire away with exposure mode "A". </div>
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But Nikon has decided to go much further in the range of possible exposure modes, in fact they offer fully <i style="font-weight: bold;">13 modes</i>. A bit over the top, I think. But the important issue is that this wheel is easily turned around. Many a times, when I am in a hurry to lift the camera out of its holder and shoot away, the lifting of the camera will inadvertently turn the wheel and give me a funky exposure mode like the one we see an example of above. What a design miss! <i style="font-weight: bold;">Shame on you, Nikon, </i>for not putting a <i style="font-weight: bold;">safety lock</i> on that wheel. It wouldn't be that much of an effort, would it?</div>
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<tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="http://1.bp.blogspot.com/-aQyzvXM2D_o/UvOJCDWBdvI/AAAAAAAAIN0/Bwvd6rxieJs/s1600/18+view+from+fisher+towers+trail+moab.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" src="http://1.bp.blogspot.com/-aQyzvXM2D_o/UvOJCDWBdvI/AAAAAAAAIN0/Bwvd6rxieJs/s1600/18+view+from+fisher+towers+trail+moab.jpg" height="355" width="400" /></a></td></tr>
<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">View Northeast from Cottontail Canyon</td></tr>
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Let's console ourselves with the only real picture the camera chose to offer me whilst we were toiling ahead in the deep canyon. It is taken in a Northeast direction, about to where the trail is heading towards its bitter end. With the mid-day sun shining against me at an angle, the sun-lit cliff took on a very special red shine, contrasted by the vermillion glow of the shadowed cliffs in the background. Nothing compares with the powers of a real picture!</div>
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With this, we can leave the canyon behind us and get on to greater things. For, as we stumbled over the ridge bordering the void, the main attraction of the day came to sight: the Mother of all Towers rose before us in its red majesty! None less than <a href="http://www.summitpost.org/the-titan/784397"><b><i>The</i></b> <b><i>Titan</i></b></a> greated us with solemn calm. Make no mistake, this is the tallest<i style="font-weight: bold;"> – </i>natural – free-standing spire in the Americas. I had to add the word "natural", since there are skyscrapers taller than the Titan, but only <i style="font-weight: bold;">three of them</i> in the Americas!</div>
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<tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="http://1.bp.blogspot.com/-XjATRppKr9Y/UvONjYfsR2I/AAAAAAAAIOI/xUC_UAmA_Jc/s1600/29+titan+tower+fisher+towers+moab.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto; text-align: center;"><img border="0" src="http://1.bp.blogspot.com/-XjATRppKr9Y/UvONjYfsR2I/AAAAAAAAIOI/xUC_UAmA_Jc/s1600/29+titan+tower+fisher+towers+moab.jpg" height="640" width="242" /></a></td></tr>
<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">The Titan in all his majesty!</td></tr>
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It almost hurt the eyes – and mind – to stand close to it and being forced to lean your head backward as far as you could, so as not to miss one single inch of this red giant. It is so forbidding that nobody dared to try its ascent until the early 1960s. First after several timid exploratory efforts, a group of three very experienced climbers, <a href="http://climbing.about.com/od/historyofclimbing/ss/First-Ascent-Of-The-Titan.htm">Layton Kor, Huntley Ingalls and George Hurley</a> finally managed the deed and arrived at the top on 13 May 1962. </div>
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As example of the difficulties they had to face, they later told an amazed audience that they often had to dig almost half a meter through mud-like surface before being able to fasten their piton on solid rock. They climbed the last stretch of the route together and, after reaching the top, Ingalls later wrote: "<i>It was a strange, awesomely isolated place, a flat, rough area of bare orange sandstone about 70 feet [21 meters] long and 40 feet [12 meters] wide. Its boundary was the free air. It overhung the body of the tower below it, which plunged in rippling bulges and converging fluted ribs to the distant desert floor.</i>" (National Geographic Magazine, November 1962) </div>
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Even if much water has run under the bridge since then, this 1962 first ascent of the Titan is considered a landmark in American desert climbing. It showed that skilled and brave climbers, using techniques developed in much firmer granite stone in Yosemite Valley at that time, could successfully climb the most fearsome sandstone towers. Nowadays, of course, everyone and his grandmother is following their lead, sometimes even without piton and rope. </div>
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<tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="http://2.bp.blogspot.com/--ogDcwzQ4_0/UvOXrgaQ8YI/AAAAAAAAIOY/ureehqaZcsE/s1600/20+hikers+at+titan+tower+overlook+fisher+towers+moab_1.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" src="http://2.bp.blogspot.com/--ogDcwzQ4_0/UvOXrgaQ8YI/AAAAAAAAIOY/ureehqaZcsE/s1600/20+hikers+at+titan+tower+overlook+fisher+towers+moab_1.jpg" height="640" width="404" /></a></td></tr>
<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">The Group of Eight dwarfed by The Titan. Peak of Cottontail Tower at far left</td></tr>
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Does it surprise you that we made haste to put some space between us and this cathedral among towers, the more so since the trail led us to a nice viewpoint, from which we could study the behemoth from a safe distance? The tower's uphill position, as well as its height lead it to dominate all other structures in the vicinity. Look how small Cottontail Tower appears in comparison, even if we had perceived it as a monster of a tower just half an hour earlier!<br />
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But let us not dally here, time to get on with our hike! There followed a long stretch of relatively easy trampling on a level, but gravely surface, until it was time for the next wonder of nature: a tiny natural arch we had to bow under, the only one to exist in this region of giants.<br />
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And here it is, in all its humble splendor! Anyone wishing to follow the trail to Trail's End has actually to go through this trap. There is no other way to continue the trip! After the passage you tend downhills for a hundred meters, before ascending the goal of the hike, a ridge the top of which you can just about glance on the upper left of the picture, and to the left of the two towers you can notice there.<br />
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<tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="http://1.bp.blogspot.com/-I6rbHpOdnFI/UvS1KwreA3I/AAAAAAAAIOo/9bGU_E9vhVM/s1600/22+big+bro+arch+fisher+towers+moab.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" src="http://1.bp.blogspot.com/-I6rbHpOdnFI/UvS1KwreA3I/AAAAAAAAIOo/9bGU_E9vhVM/s1600/22+big+bro+arch+fisher+towers+moab.jpg" height="338" width="400" /></a></td></tr>
<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">The "Big Bro Arch", tiny but shiny! </td></tr>
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Isn't it nice to pay homage to a small wonder of nature for a change?<br />
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<tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="http://1.bp.blogspot.com/-LAIP1-lo8YI/UvS2tYVoBxI/AAAAAAAAIO0/TGJTaHo9Ceo/s1600/23+hikers+under+big+bro+arch+fisher+towers+moab.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" src="http://1.bp.blogspot.com/-LAIP1-lo8YI/UvS2tYVoBxI/AAAAAAAAIO0/TGJTaHo9Ceo/s1600/23+hikers+under+big+bro+arch+fisher+towers+moab.jpg" height="325" width="400" /></a></td></tr>
<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">Bowing under Big Bro Arch</td></tr>
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The continuing hike was somewhat embarrassing. We clearly could see the ridge to reach in front of us, but the trail had disappeared mysteriously. Even our guide had to amble around a while until he found a path upwards that appeared to be the right one. But not to worry, upwards we trotted and arrived eventually at the ridge.<br />
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This gave us a marvelous view of the Towers, as well as the valley below, all the way down to the Colorado. Unfortunately, since this was midday with a clear sky, there were no contrasts to be found in that direction, so I don't have any pictures to show for it. You just have to trust my word that this was indeed an outstanding panorama.<br />
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It seemed that we had reached the end of the trail, since the ridge ended rather abruptly on a huge boulder that seemingly barred all further progress. I was very surprised to see this, since, some ten meters below us, there was another ridge, angled towards our's at about 90 degrees. Furthermore, there were people on that ridge, that seemed much more eager than us to enjoy the scenery!<br />
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"Nu var goda råd dyra!" (Good advice was sorely needed); but there was no one to help us out of this one way trap. Eventually, the most adventurous member of our Group of Eight stepped forth and started to slide around the boulder on its left hand side; slightly counter-intuitively, since the lower ridge we sought was angling off towards the right, and an almost vertical void opened up on the left.<br />
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<table align="center" cellpadding="0" cellspacing="0" class="tr-caption-container" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto; text-align: center;"><tbody>
<tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="http://3.bp.blogspot.com/-8hx31OFmcqw/UvTl8GLTLPI/AAAAAAAAIPE/CKYrWp657V4/s1600/24+overlook+at+trails+end+fisher+towers+moab.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" src="http://3.bp.blogspot.com/-8hx31OFmcqw/UvTl8GLTLPI/AAAAAAAAIPE/CKYrWp657V4/s1600/24+overlook+at+trails+end+fisher+towers+moab.jpg" height="400" width="391" /></a></td></tr>
<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">Void bordering the boulder's left hand side</td></tr>
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Soon he had rounded the boulder and disappeared from sight. A few moments later came his triumphant call: there was a path down to the lower ridge! I would never had dared this slide-around on my own, had not a trusted "expert" shown me the way. But soon, all of us were sliding along the wall, trying not look down towards the left and – Voilá! – just around the corner there was a split in the boulder, through which we could squeeze and thereafter descend down to the treasured viewpoint.<br />
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And it was well worth it to dare fate in such a manner, since we now had arrived at the very end of the way. Just a wee bit further rose what only can be described as the outlier tower rounding off the last rampart of an enormous medieval fortification. Book two of "Lord of the Rings" comes to mind. <br />
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<tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="http://2.bp.blogspot.com/-3JnVzw1X3bk/UvTnd585UOI/AAAAAAAAIPQ/I3xlk0TOm-I/s1600/26+promontory+overlook+fisher+towers+moab.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" src="http://2.bp.blogspot.com/-3JnVzw1X3bk/UvTnd585UOI/AAAAAAAAIPQ/I3xlk0TOm-I/s1600/26+promontory+overlook+fisher+towers+moab.jpg" height="332" width="400" /></a></td></tr>
<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">View down Onyon Valley</td></tr>
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To show you what I mean, have a look at this model of <a href="http://larsen-family.us/~1066/jrrhelmsdeep.html">Hornburg</a>, made in Lego by an intriguing artist.<br />
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<tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="http://4.bp.blogspot.com/-DRuZLIQKHR8/UvT0hd1jzJI/AAAAAAAAIPg/kS5iW1MJNN4/s1600/Lego+model+of+Hornburg.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" src="http://4.bp.blogspot.com/-DRuZLIQKHR8/UvT0hd1jzJI/AAAAAAAAIPg/kS5iW1MJNN4/s1600/Lego+model+of+Hornburg.jpg" height="356" width="400" /></a></td></tr>
<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">Hornburg, from Tolkien's Tale of Two Towers. Lego model <i>Source: <a href="http://danieldt.deviantart.com/">Danieldt</a></i></td></tr>
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Did I walk the walk all the way to the last round-point in my picture above, looking down "on the armies besieging the castle"? I could well have done so, but what would have been the point, from a photographer's view? Hadn't I got my picture already. How could I have improved it by shooting straight down into Onyon valley from the round top?<br />
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Much better to let other, more vigorous Members of our Group of Eight do the task for me. Let me take a picture of them striving to the very end, so as to provide scale to the deep and formidable landscape! Seen from the valley floor, this outpust must have looked like another giant tower, positioned as it was at least 300 meters above it.<br />
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<table align="center" cellpadding="0" cellspacing="0" class="tr-caption-container" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto; text-align: center;"><tbody>
<tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="http://1.bp.blogspot.com/--3v4nCN5aWI/UvT3EvNngkI/AAAAAAAAIPs/YhgfLNMeH9w/s1600/27+onyon+valley+overlook+fisher+towers+moab.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" src="http://1.bp.blogspot.com/--3v4nCN5aWI/UvT3EvNngkI/AAAAAAAAIPs/YhgfLNMeH9w/s1600/27+onyon+valley+overlook+fisher+towers+moab.jpg" height="400" width="396" /></a></td></tr>
<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">Hikers on last outpost to Onyon Valley</td></tr>
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This scene spoke to me like the deep clang of a gong, the grand finish of a great symphony. How could this scene, letting my deepest sensitivities vibrate like a violin string, possibly be surpassed by just back-tracking my steps down again to the trailhead in the valley? Surely not; but rest consoled, dear readers. Even if we on our return would re-visit all the views already described, their appearance would have greatly changed in the mean-time.<br />
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It would be later in the day, with the sun at a different angle, and we would look <i style="font-weight: bold;">forward </i>upon scenery we hitherto had left at our <i style="font-weight: bold;">back</i>! So there was plenty yet to experience and document. Still, I fear that your patience is running thin by now; so let me concentrate on four highlights from our back trip, before coming to the grand finale.<br />
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The first picture shows a small marvel already well known to you. That notwithstanding, I feel the urge to present another view of it, lest this brown delicacy fades from your memory amidst the manifold of red giants.<br />
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<tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="http://2.bp.blogspot.com/-pZi7aLf5n9I/UvYMgDLvktI/AAAAAAAAIP8/19RauCTeQTs/s1600/28+big+bro+arch+fisher+towers+moab.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" src="http://2.bp.blogspot.com/-pZi7aLf5n9I/UvYMgDLvktI/AAAAAAAAIP8/19RauCTeQTs/s1600/28+big+bro+arch+fisher+towers+moab.jpg" height="261" width="400" /></a></td></tr>
<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">The Big Bro an hour later</td></tr>
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The view below leads us back to the land of grand scenes. After passing by The Titan on our way back, we eventually arrived on the rim of the canyon that borders Cottontail Tower. You may recall the pictures I took from that Polypheme among towers, both from the forefront and at an angle (with hikers entering the canyon at its feet).<br />
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I trust you admit, that this view of its flank conveys a completely different impression of the giant's stature and grandeur! It is not so much a spire we are looking at here; rather, it resembles a giant fin, like the one you can see – at a much smaller scale – on an aircraft's tail or a shark's sharp-end.<br />
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<tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="http://1.bp.blogspot.com/-hXtjsmd9j5Y/UvYNxolA8PI/AAAAAAAAIQQ/p4gy8t3qfl4/s1600/30+hikers+at+flank+of+cottontail+tower+fisher+towers+moab+_1.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto; text-align: center;"><img border="0" src="http://1.bp.blogspot.com/-hXtjsmd9j5Y/UvYNxolA8PI/AAAAAAAAIQQ/p4gy8t3qfl4/s1600/30+hikers+at+flank+of+cottontail+tower+fisher+towers+moab+_1.jpg" height="640" width="406" /></a></td></tr>
<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">Hikers on flank of Cottontale Tower</td></tr>
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Now back to a more humane scale! Further on along the trail I suddenly stumbled on a charming scene that had completely escaped my lazy eyes in the morning. A group of intricate stone "goblins" stood assembled on the slope underneath Kingfisher Tower, as if to constitute an entourage for this king of towers. If the tower were indeed a king, these would seem like toy soldiers to him, so much smaller in scale they are, compared to his mass. I gather none of them to be taller than, say, some fifty meters.<br />
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But what they lack in scale they more than make up for in pleasing shape. I found the statue below especially endearing. It looked to me like a cobra, slithering its way upwards – as if charmed by <a href="http://en.wikipedia.org/wiki/Snake_charming">Baba Gulabgir</a> –<i>, </i>whilst balancing a small tablet on its head. Later on, I discovered that I was not alone in that interpretation, this goblin <b><i>is</i></b> called "<a href="http://www.mountainproject.com/v/the-cobra/105717490">The Cobra</a>" and – does it surprise you? – is <b style="font-style: italic;">the </b>structure<b style="font-style: italic;"> </b>to climb, if you are an enterprising youngster.<br />
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<table align="center" cellpadding="0" cellspacing="0" class="tr-caption-container" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto; text-align: center;"><tbody>
<tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="http://4.bp.blogspot.com/-A7Bhgk6jZn0/UvYVkjiHBPI/AAAAAAAAIQg/KK9TlIY45M4/s1600/32+cobra+pillar+fisher+towers+moab_1.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" src="http://4.bp.blogspot.com/-A7Bhgk6jZn0/UvYVkjiHBPI/AAAAAAAAIQg/KK9TlIY45M4/s1600/32+cobra+pillar+fisher+towers+moab_1.jpg" height="640" width="404" /></a></td></tr>
<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">An intriguing "goblin", called The Cobra. The Corkscrew on upper right</td></tr>
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How can we explain this garden of goblins? Well, there is an interesting story behind it. As erosion continues to eat away at the giants, small slabs of their caps – of hardened Moenkopi sandstone – keep falling down from "heaven". Wherever they land, they are protecting the meeker Organ Rock sandstone on the ground underneath. Since erosion never stops, the land around those small caps keeps melting away and leaves the goblins for us to admire! We stand aghast at nature's creative imagination!<br />
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Let us round up this hefty adventure trip by showing a last scenery, which met the weary hiker, when almost back at the trailhead. By then, I was rather exhausted and had left my fellow hikers far ahead of me. But the end was near and I trusted them to wait for me patiently at the car. So I still took some minutes to preserve this view for posterity (or at least for this blog!). This being the last day of the hiking trip and all!<br />
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<table align="center" cellpadding="0" cellspacing="0" class="tr-caption-container" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto; text-align: center;"><tbody>
<tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="http://2.bp.blogspot.com/-RqLlQvoZFFo/UvYXkwRoh1I/AAAAAAAAIQs/o0vjeVOCi3s/s1600/34+view+south+fisher+towers+trail+moab.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" src="http://2.bp.blogspot.com/-RqLlQvoZFFo/UvYXkwRoh1I/AAAAAAAAIQs/o0vjeVOCi3s/s1600/34+view+south+fisher+towers+trail+moab.jpg" height="266" width="400" /></a></td></tr>
<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">View of Castle Rocks towards end of Fisher trail</td></tr>
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But let's not finish this tale too soon. Why not put some extra views in there, taken through the windshield of our car? The first shows the dirt road from the Fisher Towers to route 128. And the second illustrates the many beautiful scenes, with delightful greenery, we could admire in late afternoon sun, whilst cruising along that route in the Colorado Valley, on our way back to Moab.<br />
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<table align="center" cellpadding="0" cellspacing="0" class="tr-caption-container" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto; text-align: center;"><tbody>
<tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="http://1.bp.blogspot.com/-5fsDap-94EU/UvYYwp6M_6I/AAAAAAAAIQ8/RhrS0Rb-nhw/s1600/36+fisher+tower+access+road+towards+colorado+river+moab.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" src="http://1.bp.blogspot.com/-5fsDap-94EU/UvYYwp6M_6I/AAAAAAAAIQ8/RhrS0Rb-nhw/s1600/36+fisher+tower+access+road+towards+colorado+river+moab.jpg" height="266" width="400" /></a></td></tr>
<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">Dirt road from Fisher Towers to Route 128</td></tr>
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<table align="center" cellpadding="0" cellspacing="0" class="tr-caption-container" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto; text-align: center;"><tbody>
<tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="http://4.bp.blogspot.com/-FYW_I1G1ZQU/UvYYwgQzIdI/AAAAAAAAIQ4/p24vPV63RoA/s1600/37+colorado+river+valley+moab+.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" src="http://4.bp.blogspot.com/-FYW_I1G1ZQU/UvYYwgQzIdI/AAAAAAAAIQ4/p24vPV63RoA/s1600/37+colorado+river+valley+moab+.jpg" height="266" width="400" /></a></td></tr>
<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">Colorado Valley, seen from Route 128</td></tr>
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Emil Emshttp://www.blogger.com/profile/07815643585218883358noreply@blogger.com7tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-2242228370300474063.post-6707387946599734702014-01-20T14:00:00.000+01:002014-01-20T14:33:48.413+01:00LE QUARTIER DES SCHTROUMPFS<div dir="ltr" style="text-align: left;" trbidi="on">
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<tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="http://2.bp.blogspot.com/-HcORBCaXdPg/UtkKt_15D5I/AAAAAAAAICI/Fjx4aXYKxJ4/s1600/-01+voodoos+seen+from+elephant+canyon+needles_1.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" src="http://2.bp.blogspot.com/-HcORBCaXdPg/UtkKt_15D5I/AAAAAAAAICI/Fjx4aXYKxJ4/s1600/-01+voodoos+seen+from+elephant+canyon+needles_1.jpg" height="640" width="366" /></a></td></tr>
<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">Elephant Canyon, Needles, Canyonlands NP</td></tr>
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Just three months ago, I was ambling along avenue du Grand-Pré in Geneva, up from Gare Cornavin (the Central Station) where I had arrived minutes before. I was on my way to my former working place, the EFTA Secretariat, were I had spent five challenging years in the beginning of the 'nineties. Those were tumultuous times, when European history took a sharp bend, and I had been right in the middle of events. So, after all these years, I felt the urge to return to relive those ancient memories.<br />
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Suddenly, I came to an abrupt stop. At my left, the former orderly apartment houses on the avenue had been torn down and, instead, there rose a helter-shelter collection of strange artifacts. No straight walls or doors, all curved and "organic". Roofs shaped like mushrooms and colors ranging from light green to light mauve. I had discovered a modern city block, called "<a href="http://www.ilovetravelling.fr/a-la-decouverte-des-schtroumpfs-genevois/">Quartier des Schtroumpfs</a>" (Village of the Smurfs), that was in stark contrast to more conformist modern architecture.<br />
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One month later, I got a strong feeling of déjà vu, when standing at the bottom of a deep cleft in Canyonlands National Park, glancing upwards at some curiously curved hoodoos, reminding me strongly of the mushroom houses in Geneva.<br />
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Our hiking Group of Eight had arrived in <a href="http://www.nps.gov/cany/planyourvisit/needles.htm">Needles</a> – a district of the park to the Southeast of <a href="http://emilems.blogspot.se/2013/12/disc-world.html">Island in the Sky</a> –, lying just opposite the big Loop of the Colorado that we had seen from the Grand Viewpoint Overlook the day before. The distance, as the crow flies, is not large, some 10 kilometers or so, but it takes more than two hours to drive there, since it is quite impossible to go the straight route by car.<br />
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On foot, it would take you at least two weeks to go straight across, provided you can get passage across the Colorado. In olden times, a wagon train would certainly take at least a month to navigate the same distance. "Yes!", the Mormons did some tracking of that kind, urged on by their Prophets to establish new settlements across hitherto uncharted desert terrain. You may be interested in reading about such a venture, telling the story of a C<a href="http://historytogo.utah.gov/utah_chapters/pioneers_and_cowboys/hole-in-the-rocktrekremainsanepicexperience.html">anyonlands crossing by Mormons South of Needles</a>.<br />
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<table align="center" cellpadding="0" cellspacing="0" class="tr-caption-container" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto; text-align: center;"><tbody>
<tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="http://2.bp.blogspot.com/-NfCARCFrB04/UtlBckrca6I/AAAAAAAAICY/ZmxmMD2V7oE/s1600/01+road+to+needles+np.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" src="http://2.bp.blogspot.com/-NfCARCFrB04/UtlBckrca6I/AAAAAAAAICY/ZmxmMD2V7oE/s1600/01+road+to+needles+np.jpg" height="218" width="400" /></a></td></tr>
<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">Approaching Needles on route 211</td></tr>
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For our small hiking group the access proved much easier. You drive your car on US Highway 191, South from Moab, until it intersects with Utah Highway 211. Turning West on the latter, the road leads you directly to the district of Needles.<br />
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On the picture above, you see an impressive promontory in the far distance. This is the high plateau of Needles, the ascending of which would be the goal of our hiking trip that day. Looking at this pompous skyline of gothic spires, it suddenly became clear to me how the district got its name, even if the plateau itself constitutes only about a third of the whole area.<br />
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Although the access looks rather easy, with the asphalt road pointing in the right direction, visiting Needles is far more difficult than driving along on paved roads on the Island of the Sky, where you hardly have to leave your car to benefit from the various outlooks. Route 211 loses its coating soon after the Park entrance. From there on it is a question of driving VERY carefully on a dirt road to the trail head, called Elephant Hill.<br />
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After that, we are not speaking of a proper road anymore, rather, a dirt path navigable only by rough four wheel drivers, and that only if you can negate the harsh admonishments to desist, uttered by any ranger that happens to stand in your way. </div>
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<table align="center" cellpadding="0" cellspacing="0" class="tr-caption-container" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto; text-align: center;"><tbody>
<tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="http://2.bp.blogspot.com/-Wghh3WjTfqk/UtlEsdF6cvI/AAAAAAAAICk/uTH6-9dSjh0/s1600/02+ascent+of+mesa+from+elephant+hill+trailhead++needles+np.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" src="http://2.bp.blogspot.com/-Wghh3WjTfqk/UtlEsdF6cvI/AAAAAAAAICk/uTH6-9dSjh0/s1600/02+ascent+of+mesa+from+elephant+hill+trailhead++needles+np.jpg" height="640" width="382" /></a></td></tr>
<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">The rise upwards from Elephant Hill</td></tr>
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So this is a hikers' terrain and PARADISE. Rough it is to navigate in this beautiful land of hoodoos, but rich are the rewards. Instead of standing on top of the world, as you seem to do on Island in the Sky, you start your hike here deep down in a cleft, about as half as deep down as the Colorado (who is grinding its path just a few kilometers to the Northwest). Going from there, it is a question of striving forever upwards, upwards, until you arrive at the high pass granting access to the Needles Plateau.</div>
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You better carry enough water for the trip, for there is scant access to that essential fluid along the way, and NONE, once you are on top of the plateau. Still, there are brave and sturdy hikers who come fully equipped for a several days' hike in this astounding wilderness.</div>
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<tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="http://4.bp.blogspot.com/-Dw3jfPw8hjM/UtlFeoZ2YUI/AAAAAAAAICw/ZbDcPDZka_8/s1600/10+hikers+in+full+gear+needles.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" src="http://4.bp.blogspot.com/-Dw3jfPw8hjM/UtlFeoZ2YUI/AAAAAAAAICw/ZbDcPDZka_8/s1600/10+hikers+in+full+gear+needles.jpg" /></a></td></tr>
<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">Two ladies fully equipped for a lengthy hike</td></tr>
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But enough of preliminaries! Let's get on with our story. After having parked the car at Elephant Hill, the trail head, we had to overcome a steep incline, which took us about 20 minutes. Thereafter, a wide panorama opened up for us, since we had arrived at the seemingly endless expanse of the lower basin, that we could observe already from the various outlooks at Island in the Sky.<br />
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The trail was winding its lazy way towards a wide gray-to-white broad ledge that we could glance in the distance and that we would be following. We had arrived at the world of <a href="http://www.nps.gov/cany/naturescience/cedarmesa.htm">Cedar Mesa Sandstone</a>, among the oldest sandstone formations on the globe. In the far distance, the Needles Plateau beckoned us welcome with its manifold of spires, looking mauve from the distance.<br />
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Unfortunately, the weather did not appear promising. There was the threat of rain in the air and, in spite of the splendid surroundings, I could not avoid feeling gloomy.<br />
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<tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="http://3.bp.blogspot.com/-KvtBHnZBcIU/UtpUhhofj8I/AAAAAAAAIDM/PDas4W9DU4g/s1600/03+mesa+above+elephant+hill+trailhead+needles+np.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" src="http://3.bp.blogspot.com/-KvtBHnZBcIU/UtpUhhofj8I/AAAAAAAAIDM/PDas4W9DU4g/s1600/03+mesa+above+elephant+hill+trailhead+needles+np.jpg" height="266" width="400" /></a></td></tr>
<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">End of first ascent, Needles beckoning in the far background</td></tr>
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Most of the hike henceforth would be carried out in the realm of the Cedar Mesa Sandstone. At the outset, this used to be a layer, almost 600 meters thick, compressed and hardened by the enormous mass of almost two kilometers of stone layers above it, the latter formed during the middle and new ages of the globe. </div>
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In the Needles district of Canyonlands, the two kilometers of upper and younger stone have been eroded away completely during the past 30 million years, leaving the remaining hardened Cedar Mesa shell wide open to the onslaught of the seasons.<br />
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Cedar Mesa stone is gray-to-white in its virgin state, but takes on various shades of red, depending on how much iron was contained in the waters originally filtering through it. Erosion is eating away also at this layer with a vengeance, the results showing as gothic spires, rounded hoodoos and even flat ledges, depending on the way seasonal influences are allowed to play on the rock.<br />
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<table align="center" cellpadding="0" cellspacing="0" class="tr-caption-container" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto; text-align: center;"><tbody>
<tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="http://2.bp.blogspot.com/-c8N2lhFPFfM/UtpUEcfufmI/AAAAAAAAIDE/VmI8cmRvd8c/s1600/08+hikers+on+rim+of+elephant+canyon+needles.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" src="http://2.bp.blogspot.com/-c8N2lhFPFfM/UtpUEcfufmI/AAAAAAAAIDE/VmI8cmRvd8c/s1600/08+hikers+on+rim+of+elephant+canyon+needles.jpg" height="191" width="400" /></a></td></tr>
<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">Hiking on Cedar Mesa sandstone ledge. Barrier of Cedar Mesa hoodoos in the distance</td></tr>
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After having trudged along a flat ledge for half an hour or so, we were approaching a barrier of hoodoos that seemed quite difficult to penetrate, seen from a distance. And, indeed, this would prove to be difficult. But before we came close to it, something else caught my interest. I suddenly saw a group of youngsters busy with preparing their breakfast on one of the hoodoos.<br />
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I believe that they had spent the night on this lofty hill; if so, I hope they had down-feathered sleeping bags with them. Morning temperatures had hovered around zero, when we had left Moab in the morning! Still, spirits seemed to be high on top of the hill and the group saluted me with glee when discovering that I was taking their picture. What youthful exuberance! How could I abstain from following their example and recovering my spirits?<br />
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<tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="http://3.bp.blogspot.com/-nsOLdmx1djM/UtpZeon_UCI/AAAAAAAAIDc/xOYmCz0lMH4/s1600/09+hikers+on+voodoo+needles.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" src="http://3.bp.blogspot.com/-nsOLdmx1djM/UtpZeon_UCI/AAAAAAAAIDc/xOYmCz0lMH4/s1600/09+hikers+on+voodoo+needles.jpg" height="400" width="400" /></a></td></tr>
<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">Hikers rising from their sleep on Cedar Mesa hoodoo</td></tr>
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On to the barrier now! It turned out that the only passage through was a very narrow crack in one of the huge hoodoos. So narrow was the passage that I had to take off my rucksack and slide through sideways in the most constricted section of the slot.<br />
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The picture below does not really convey the full sense of claustrophobia you could feel when navigating this passage. Fortunately, there is a video on Youtube that can let you partake in a similar venture. I would encourage you to have a look at it. Just click on the word <a href="http://www.youtube.com/watch?v=hITWvKozhrM">VIDEO</a> here!<br />
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<table align="center" cellpadding="0" cellspacing="0" class="tr-caption-container" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto; text-align: center;"><tbody>
<tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="http://2.bp.blogspot.com/-KpdGXJh_kZM/UtphcTt0UuI/AAAAAAAAID4/-tXtpDouIuY/s1600/11+crack+on+chesler+park+trail+needles_1.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" src="http://2.bp.blogspot.com/-KpdGXJh_kZM/UtphcTt0UuI/AAAAAAAAID4/-tXtpDouIuY/s1600/11+crack+on+chesler+park+trail+needles_1.jpg" height="640" width="403" /></a></td></tr>
<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">Entering the Crack</td></tr>
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Mumbling to myself "Durch diese hohle Gasse muss er kommen!" I slowly navigated through this narrow slot. There was a downward slant in it and eventually, it widened into a cave-like opening, through which we could discern Elephant Canyon down below and, between the hoodoos, the rampart of the Needles Plateau, this time already closer.<br />
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<tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="http://1.bp.blogspot.com/-pEVaIk2wvEk/UtqFcrllnmI/AAAAAAAAIEI/zgKcRuuMNlc/s1600/12+exiting+crack+on+chesler+park+trail+needles.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" src="http://1.bp.blogspot.com/-pEVaIk2wvEk/UtqFcrllnmI/AAAAAAAAIEI/zgKcRuuMNlc/s1600/12+exiting+crack+on+chesler+park+trail+needles.jpg" height="400" width="355" /></a></td></tr>
<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">Exiting the Crack into Elephant Canyon. In the distance Needles Ramparrt</td></tr>
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After having slided down the canyon slope, our guide decided that we had done enough for the morning and chose a nice spot for lunch. A nice spot it was indeed, we were resting on a rise above the trail, surrounded by hoodoos, watching fellow hikers passing by and munching contentedly on our sandwiches. In the mean-time, our guide Ingemar was busy studying the map, since, as he told us, there was a confusion of trails on the Needles Plateau and it was a challenge to identify the right path across.<br />
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<tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="http://3.bp.blogspot.com/-DObrCLiBOLs/UtqGLk33qAI/AAAAAAAAIEU/4McBdqgVCIs/s1600/14+rest+in+elephant+canyon+below+elephant+feet+needles.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" src="http://3.bp.blogspot.com/-DObrCLiBOLs/UtqGLk33qAI/AAAAAAAAIEU/4McBdqgVCIs/s1600/14+rest+in+elephant+canyon+below+elephant+feet+needles.jpg" height="341" width="400" /></a></td></tr>
<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">Our guide contemplating the map, whilst the group was having lunch</td></tr>
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This turned out to be the last quiet moment of the day! For, ahead of us now lay the arduous task of surmounting a rise in altitude of almost 800 meters, in order to gain access to the high plateau. Step by step, we labored upwards, always encouraged by the marvelous scenery that was ever changing in color and shape.<br />
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Now and then I found, nonetheless, the time to glance backwards and gauge the distance we had already covered. In the picture below you can see, not only three hikers that had to take a rest from the hard exercise, but also, in the far distance, Island in the Sky and Dead Horsepoint, two plateaus we had been standing on only the day before!<br />
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<tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="http://2.bp.blogspot.com/-DRkPCDMubNA/UtugVCFW8RI/AAAAAAAAIEk/_mI8mQXOqL8/s1600/15+hikers+on+hoodoo,+island+in+the+sky+on+horizon+needles.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" src="http://2.bp.blogspot.com/-DRkPCDMubNA/UtugVCFW8RI/AAAAAAAAIEk/_mI8mQXOqL8/s1600/15+hikers+on+hoodoo,+island+in+the+sky+on+horizon+needles.jpg" height="400" width="362" /></a></td></tr>
<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">Hikers on hoodoo. In the far distance Island in the Sky and Dead Horse Point</td></tr>
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Our energetic Group of Eight was carrying on without respite, that is, until we found a pictorial setting on which to show off before engaging in the final onslaught. What a group of hardy hikers we were! Not a drop of sweat visible on our relaxed faces ;-) More importantly, the picture also shows a glimpse of the high pass that would grant us access to the high plateau. It is located on the far right of the picture, where a large dominant stone group tapers off into an opening in the rampart. <br />
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<tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="http://1.bp.blogspot.com/-dloAGPqJE5s/UtujSmS8V6I/AAAAAAAAIEw/OefNfOyTGXU/s1600/16+g8+gearing+up+for+final+ascent+of+needles+plateau.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" src="http://1.bp.blogspot.com/-dloAGPqJE5s/UtujSmS8V6I/AAAAAAAAIEw/OefNfOyTGXU/s1600/16+g8+gearing+up+for+final+ascent+of+needles+plateau.jpg" height="400" width="328" /></a></td></tr>
<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">The Group of Eight gearing up for the final onslaught</td></tr>
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The following picture was taken when walking along that high pass. It also demonstrates the massive resistance to access provided by the wall of "needles" surrounding the plateau.<br />
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<table align="center" cellpadding="0" cellspacing="0" class="tr-caption-container" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto; text-align: center;"><tbody>
<tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="http://1.bp.blogspot.com/-zMeSKoqLZbU/UtulNphM4UI/AAAAAAAAIE8/pWQ4EtsED9c/s1600/18+ascending+needles+plateau+rampart.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" src="http://1.bp.blogspot.com/-zMeSKoqLZbU/UtulNphM4UI/AAAAAAAAIE8/pWQ4EtsED9c/s1600/18+ascending+needles+plateau+rampart.jpg" height="290" width="400" /></a></td></tr>
<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">Along the pass to Needles Plateau</td></tr>
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After this looong climbing exercise, it was a relieve to arrive at the saddle and begin the descent towards the inner section of the plateau. Below you see the first section of the path towards the within.<br />
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<table align="center" cellpadding="0" cellspacing="0" class="tr-caption-container" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto; text-align: center;"><tbody>
<tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="http://4.bp.blogspot.com/-AoCmH1gDkrg/UtumiuP8IwI/AAAAAAAAIFI/vLhEwjwMvQo/s1600/19+rim+of+chesler+park+needles.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" src="http://4.bp.blogspot.com/-AoCmH1gDkrg/UtumiuP8IwI/AAAAAAAAIFI/vLhEwjwMvQo/s1600/19+rim+of+chesler+park+needles.jpg" height="330" width="400" /></a></td></tr>
<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">First steps into the interior of Needles Plateau</td></tr>
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Just after having taking this picture and turning around, I was suddenly overcome by the scenery opening up to me. The sky lightened up, the sun started to shine and the landscape suddenly sprang to life! I hate to admit it, but at this moment, I LOST IT, getting overcome by an intense experience of photographic frenzy. </div>
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This happens to me only rarely, but when it does, it lets me completely lose my sense of time and space. The only thing that counts in such a rare occasion of spiritual excess is the rectangle of the camera viewer catching piece after piece of landscape, like a fisherman catching fish with his net. </div>
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For about fifteen minutes, I was click-clicking away at the scenery around me, getting ever more excited by the exquisite compositions I imagined myself catching on film. I must have taken at least a hundred pictures in quick succession within those minutes and many of them turned out to be rather swell, I am proud to say. Let me show you a small collection of the outcome.</div>
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<a href="http://4.bp.blogspot.com/-MJ0_keOtNII/UtupKO8FlbI/AAAAAAAAIFc/EWZp3eCU87A/s1600/23+hoodoos+and+boulders+in+chesler+park+needles.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="clear: left; float: left; margin-bottom: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" src="http://4.bp.blogspot.com/-MJ0_keOtNII/UtupKO8FlbI/AAAAAAAAIFc/EWZp3eCU87A/s1600/23+hoodoos+and+boulders+in+chesler+park+needles.jpg" height="351" width="400" /></a></div>
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<a href="http://4.bp.blogspot.com/-RZ5VwDDTHic/UtupKGa_G9I/AAAAAAAAIFY/8lYfP6YrOzg/s1600/25+chesler+park+rim+with+juniper+needles.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="clear: left; float: left; margin-bottom: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" src="http://4.bp.blogspot.com/-RZ5VwDDTHic/UtupKGa_G9I/AAAAAAAAIFY/8lYfP6YrOzg/s1600/25+chesler+park+rim+with+juniper+needles.jpg" height="316" width="400" /></a></div>
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<a href="http://1.bp.blogspot.com/-kualuuKYXyw/UtupKK8Y4OI/AAAAAAAAIFU/cIggSEzpp1o/s1600/26+chesler+park+rim+hoodoos+and+sage+needles.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" src="http://1.bp.blogspot.com/-kualuuKYXyw/UtupKK8Y4OI/AAAAAAAAIFU/cIggSEzpp1o/s1600/26+chesler+park+rim+hoodoos+and+sage+needles.jpg" height="400" width="320" /></a></div>
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<a href="http://1.bp.blogspot.com/-0b5l99_JJFc/UtupK0zaOSI/AAAAAAAAIFs/FZjnN6FhF-M/s1600/27+chesler+park+rim+hoodoos+and+pinyon+pine+needles.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="clear: left; float: left; margin-bottom: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" src="http://1.bp.blogspot.com/-0b5l99_JJFc/UtupK0zaOSI/AAAAAAAAIFs/FZjnN6FhF-M/s1600/27+chesler+park+rim+hoodoos+and+pinyon+pine+needles.jpg" height="227" width="400" /></a></div>
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<a href="http://2.bp.blogspot.com/-u5La6GeMOYg/UtupK24K3FI/AAAAAAAAIFk/eeeyfwuWK2o/s1600/28+chesler+park+rim+and+sage+needles.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="clear: left; float: left; margin-bottom: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" src="http://2.bp.blogspot.com/-u5La6GeMOYg/UtupK24K3FI/AAAAAAAAIFk/eeeyfwuWK2o/s1600/28+chesler+park+rim+and+sage+needles.jpg" height="212" width="400" /></a></div>
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When I woke up from my photographic rapture I discovered, to my dismay, that I was all alone in this wide landscape of hoodoo, sagebrush, pinyon and juniper. No fellow hikers to be seen, not even on the horizon! I started to get worried; would I be able to trace the right path to follow? Fortunately, there was only one, even if barely discernible in all this splendor.<br />
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<table align="center" cellpadding="0" cellspacing="0" class="tr-caption-container" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto; text-align: center;"><tbody>
<tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="http://3.bp.blogspot.com/-X8XRLNN8gO4/UtuxfjLUNfI/AAAAAAAAIGE/qPCOEo7ks_o/s1600/24+chesler+park+view+with+pinyon+pines+needles.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" src="http://3.bp.blogspot.com/-X8XRLNN8gO4/UtuxfjLUNfI/AAAAAAAAIGE/qPCOEo7ks_o/s1600/24+chesler+park+view+with+pinyon+pines+needles.jpg" height="222" width="400" /></a></td></tr>
<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">View of Chesler Park from the Plateau Rim</td></tr>
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So I started to run along that sandy path, hoping to soon regain my fellow hikers. Unfortunately, the landscape got the better of me, forcing me to stop more often than not to take additional pictures. Still, in between the takes, I was pushing on with speed. Eventually, to my great relief, I saw a lonely member of our group standing between some huge boulders, no doubt left as sentinel to watch out for me, the straying outlier!<br />
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<tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="http://3.bp.blogspot.com/-JDfIYREDhdU/Utu0QT-sXQI/AAAAAAAAIGQ/CC988qQhq8U/s1600/30+hiker+at+chesler+park+rim+needles.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" src="http://3.bp.blogspot.com/-JDfIYREDhdU/Utu0QT-sXQI/AAAAAAAAIGQ/CC988qQhq8U/s1600/30+hiker+at+chesler+park+rim+needles.jpg" height="400" width="385" /></a></td></tr>
<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">Lonely Member of the Group of Eight, waiting for the straying outlier</td></tr>
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Soon I was able to join the full group again, which was standing at an outlook just at rampart's fringe, where one could get a marvelous view towards the East of the wide basin underneath. Here the guide welcomed me with a slightly furrowed brow – for a Swede this means that he is quite upset – querying me with deceptively mild voice whether I would prefer to retrace the route back to the trail head rather than continuing with the group (since far more than half of the distance still had to be covered on the trail planned by him).<br />
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I assured him that I would behave forthwith and not stray behind in the continuing journey. Thus placated, the guide urged us on, leaving me, unfortunately, no time to take compositions of the view. Still, you can see the hoodoo guarding the outlook, as well as a wee bit of the plane underneath – at the picture's far right.<br />
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<tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="http://2.bp.blogspot.com/-KKkmLQylVRE/Utu05Z0UOTI/AAAAAAAAIGY/vsDch6rJ4_k/s1600/32+chesler+park+rim+overlook+needles.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto; text-align: center;"><img border="0" src="http://2.bp.blogspot.com/-KKkmLQylVRE/Utu05Z0UOTI/AAAAAAAAIGY/vsDch6rJ4_k/s1600/32+chesler+park+rim+overlook+needles.jpg" height="400" width="400" /></a></td></tr>
<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">Voodoo at Needles Plateau rim, guarding the Eastern Outlook</td></tr>
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From this outlook we went straight West, into the interior of the Needles Plateau, which is called <a href="http://backcountrypost.com/forum/trail-guides/chesler-park.31/">Chesler Park</a>. Surprisingly, landscape and nature in the plateau's interior is nothing like that on top of Island in the Sky. Instead, there lies a bowl-shaped prairie, beautiful to behold from a distance and hiking within. This used to be even grazing grounds for a ranch, before the district became part of the National Park of Canyonlands. Imagine this, in the middle of sagebrush desert! And without any discernible source of water!<br />
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<table align="center" cellpadding="0" cellspacing="0" class="tr-caption-container" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto; text-align: center;"><tbody>
<tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="http://3.bp.blogspot.com/-fvMB8uVb4zY/Utu05ZRku3I/AAAAAAAAIGc/OVEFlOI-55Q/s1600/33+hikers+on+chesler+park+prairie+needles.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto; text-align: center;"><img border="0" src="http://3.bp.blogspot.com/-fvMB8uVb4zY/Utu05ZRku3I/AAAAAAAAIGc/OVEFlOI-55Q/s1600/33+hikers+on+chesler+park+prairie+needles.jpg" height="226" width="400" /></a></td></tr>
<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">Chesler Park, with beautiful bunch grass</td></tr>
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The grass you can see in the picture looked nowhere like the grass known to us in Europe. It is in fact the native American sort, called <a href="http://en.wikipedia.org/wiki/Tussock_(grass)">Bunch Grass</a>. This blue green variant has deep roots and is evergreen, in contrast to our sort. Despite its hardened nature, it is almost extinct in the Southwestern US, since our grass has taken over, ever since it was imported, hidden in the hide of cows, by the Spaniards in the 16th century (see <i><a href="http://emilems.blogspot.se/2010/05/green-green-grass-of-ho-ome.html">The Green, Green Grass of Ho-ome</a></i>). I was surprised to see it here, reigning in sovereignty, despite Chesler Park having been grazed by cattle for many decades.<br />
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Most probably, the chemical composition of the soil, or the lack of shallow ground water, has protected it from the more delicate European grasses. Either way, I was delighted to see this prairie that must have looked the same since before white man invaded the continent.<br />
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Let us continue the discussion on a scientific vein for a while. How come that the top of a plateau in the Canyonlands is shaped like a bowl and has a prairie to show for it? To answer this, take a look at the picture below, which was taken by <a href="http://www.pbase.com/dougsherman/profile">Doug Sherman</a>, a fellow photographer with a keen interest in geology.<br />
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<table align="center" cellpadding="0" cellspacing="0" class="tr-caption-container" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto; text-align: center;"><tbody>
<tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="http://1.bp.blogspot.com/-2tLCmGJBuPk/UtvdA4-8L1I/AAAAAAAAIGw/WQaeufZgrCk/s1600/graben+and+chesler+park+aerial+needles_1.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" src="http://1.bp.blogspot.com/-2tLCmGJBuPk/UtvdA4-8L1I/AAAAAAAAIGw/WQaeufZgrCk/s1600/graben+and+chesler+park+aerial+needles_1.jpg" height="255" width="400" /></a></td></tr>
<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">Air view of Chesler Park <i>Photographer: <a href="http://www.pbase.com/dougsherman/image/93468807">Doug Sherman</a></i></td></tr>
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Let our imagination play for a while. Some 60 million years ago, the Cedar Mesa stone layer was hidden underneath almost two kilometers of other stone ayers. Around that time, the outer crust of this enormous mass was still located at sea level. Gradually (geologically speaking), and before the general rise of the Colorado Plateau, a section of it got an uplift, which started just North of Needles and, as a result, tilted a section of the Plateau Westward all the way down to what now is Monument Valley. This rise, called the Monument Lift, resulted in a deep fault on its Eastern flank, which brought the venerable layers of Mesa Verde sandstone closer to the surface.<br />
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Now remember that underneath the oldest sandstone layers on the Plateau resides the so called Paradox Formation, a thick layer of salt with very peculiar characteristics (see <i><a href="http://emilems.blogspot.se/2013/11/a-city-built-on-salt.html">A City Built on Salt</a></i>). Subject to high pressure, it becomes almost viscous (geologically speaking). Into the multitude of "cracks", having appeared in the overlaying stone layers due to the uplift, salt started to percolate from below, following the road of least resistance. In rare occasions this penetration was so powerful as to shove aside large fractured masses of stone and form a sizable "bubble" (This was occurring deep down in the interior of the crust, not visible from the surface at the outset).<br />
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This probably has happened when Chesler Park was created. A giant bubble of salt, a globe rather, could have formed, shoving aside the fractured Mesa Verde stone above it. This salty blob would have been substantial, measuring almost 1.5 kilometers in diameter, but residing for eons underneath a thick layer of covering stone.<br />
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<table align="center" cellpadding="0" cellspacing="0" class="tr-caption-container" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto; text-align: center;"><tbody>
<tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="http://4.bp.blogspot.com/-co5i2Emr0Bw/Utv2qiEfIRI/AAAAAAAAIHA/B3TFzDjCpAo/s1600/34+rock+group+in+chesler+park+needles.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" src="http://4.bp.blogspot.com/-co5i2Emr0Bw/Utv2qiEfIRI/AAAAAAAAIHA/B3TFzDjCpAo/s1600/34+rock+group+in+chesler+park+needles.jpg" height="343" width="400" /></a></td></tr>
<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">Island of rock in mid-Chester Park</td></tr>
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However, after the general uplift of the Colorado Plateau, around 30 million years ago, erosion took off with a vengeance and razed off almost 2 kilometers of stone from the thick crust, eventually exposing the salt bubble to the erosive powers of the seasons. The salt would have melted quickly, leaving behind it a half-dome shaped empty underbelly. But nature abhors vacuum and this hollow bowl would have been filled in an instant (geologically speaking) with alluvial soil, giving rise to the present parkland, fecund enough for grass to grow in. Amazing, isn't it?<br />
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Salt continues to play a role in sculpturing the landscape in Needles. To the West of Chesler Park, salt, after having penetrated fractures, as described above, continues to gradually dissolve and disappear into the neighboring Colorado River, widening the fractures in question and rendering them into deeper valleys, called <a href="http://www.nps.gov/cany/naturescience/grabens.htm"><i>Grabens</i></a>.<br />
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Having thus satisfied our thirst for geologic interpretation, time to return to our hike! After a prolonged promenade through blue-green grass, and having had a look at an isolated island of rock in the middle of Chesler Park, it was time to retrace our steps Eastward and regain the plateau rim. We chose, however, to take a more adventurous descent than ascent route, starting about half a kilometer South of the saddle we had traversed on the way up.<br />
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<table align="center" cellpadding="0" cellspacing="0" class="tr-caption-container" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto; text-align: center;"><tbody>
<tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="http://1.bp.blogspot.com/-1Q93fpknpqQ/UtztPpCiAvI/AAAAAAAAIHQ/Pq8_AhXLynA/s1600/37+hikers+descending+from+chesler+park+to+elephant+canyon+needles.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" src="http://1.bp.blogspot.com/-1Q93fpknpqQ/UtztPpCiAvI/AAAAAAAAIHQ/Pq8_AhXLynA/s1600/37+hikers+descending+from+chesler+park+to+elephant+canyon+needles.jpg" height="300" width="400" /></a></td></tr>
<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">Descending Chesler Park down to Elephant Canyon</td></tr>
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This part of the hike proved to be of almost alpine quality, leading us down around and below huge rock boulders and steep slick rock slopes. All in all, a delight for yours truly, as a former mountain hiker. I was lucky to be clad in shoes with a good rubbery grip, permitting me to navigate also the slanting slick rock with relative ease. Some other group members were not so lucky and had to spend some effort to descend on those rocks! But we all made it down in good spirits, helped by some refreshing stops now and then among those delicately colored rocks.<br />
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<table align="center" cellpadding="0" cellspacing="0" class="tr-caption-container" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto; text-align: center;"><tbody>
<tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="http://2.bp.blogspot.com/-9lhwOqGYeTo/Utzt00c3yvI/AAAAAAAAIHY/zYG6H8HFbb8/s1600/35+hikers+on+descent+to+elephant+canyon+needles.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" src="http://2.bp.blogspot.com/-9lhwOqGYeTo/Utzt00c3yvI/AAAAAAAAIHY/zYG6H8HFbb8/s1600/35+hikers+on+descent+to+elephant+canyon+needles.jpg" height="400" width="400" /></a></td></tr>
<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">Hikers resting on descent to Elephant Canyon</td></tr>
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All in all, we made good speed downwards and arrived soon in the upper reaches of Elephant Canyon. Up there, the canyon was a relatively shallow wash, with huge stone slabs at the bottom. The title picture shows this part of the canyon. Along and through the slabs you can see in the picture, water would quickly gush down at full speed, as soon as it started to rain.<br />
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Fortunately, the threatening clouds of that morning had turned off South, the sun having chased away all risks of flash flood. So we could continue our journey down the canyon in peace and at a reasonable pace. This was to the best, since we had still some six kilometers of rough terrain to navigate and the hour was getting late.<br />
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<table align="center" cellpadding="0" cellspacing="0" class="tr-caption-container" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto; text-align: center;"><tbody>
<tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="http://4.bp.blogspot.com/-l3ZS3UZVycc/Utzzh69MMII/AAAAAAAAIII/2JoipKRrI8A/s1600/39+hikers+in+elephant+canyon+needles_1.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" src="http://4.bp.blogspot.com/-l3ZS3UZVycc/Utzzh69MMII/AAAAAAAAIII/2JoipKRrI8A/s1600/39+hikers+in+elephant+canyon+needles_1.jpg" height="640" width="404" /></a></td></tr>
<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">Hikers in upper reaches of Elephant Canyon</td></tr>
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The further down the canyon we trudged, the more bucolic became the surroundings. Eventually, the canyon started to open up and, after some more circling among slabs, sand and grovel, we found ourselves back were we had eaten our lunch, so many hours and experiences since.<br />
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<tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="http://1.bp.blogspot.com/-BZD09AzeQBQ/Utzx2tuWAbI/AAAAAAAAIHk/KPSN3AMHZSo/s1600/41+elephant+canyon+needles.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" src="http://1.bp.blogspot.com/-BZD09AzeQBQ/Utzx2tuWAbI/AAAAAAAAIHk/KPSN3AMHZSo/s1600/41+elephant+canyon+needles.jpg" height="255" width="400" /></a></td></tr>
<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">Elephant Canyon widening</td></tr>
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Now we really had to rush, so as to return to the trailhead in good time; this left scarce time for picture taking! Let's just take a quick look back at the barrier with its crack we had to pass through one more time. If you look closely at the picture below, you can actually get a glimpse of it, located as it is between the two large red boulders in the background.<br />
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<table align="center" cellpadding="0" cellspacing="0" class="tr-caption-container" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto; text-align: center;"><tbody>
<tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="http://3.bp.blogspot.com/-nDEazoWW7Pc/Utzx27okJWI/AAAAAAAAIHo/eS72Dz6D2EA/s1600/42+elephant+canyon+rim+needles.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" src="http://3.bp.blogspot.com/-nDEazoWW7Pc/Utzx27okJWI/AAAAAAAAIHo/eS72Dz6D2EA/s1600/42+elephant+canyon+rim+needles.jpg" height="213" width="400" /></a></td></tr>
<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">Needles mesa. In the background the barrier with narrow passage to Elephant Canyon</td></tr>
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After this picture, the end of the trail was near. But at that stage, I began to feel the burden of age and low sugar level. I simply had to stop for a while and could not continue the hike at a good pace. Slowly moving ahead, I could but watch my fellow hikers disappear in the distance; still, the track ahead was clear and I knew that our Group of Eight usually took a leisurely 15 minutes of rest at the end of a hike before urging our guide onwards.<br />
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Slowly but surely, I tumbled down the final descent towards the trailhead. I was glad to take my time about it, however, since this let me observe a strange object on the opposite wall of the Elephant Hill wash. I did not trust my eyes at first: could there really be a car sitting on one of the large boulders opposite my position? Sure enough, this was a four-wheeler, attempting the VERY ROUGH trail onwards from Elephant Hill, and stopping after the first ascent to let the travelers ponder whether to continue the trip. After ten minutes' discussion, they decided to turn back and disappeared behind the boulders on their way down the cliff.<br />
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<table align="center" cellpadding="0" cellspacing="0" class="tr-caption-container" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto; text-align: center;"><tbody>
<tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="http://2.bp.blogspot.com/-neBRBqikXbw/Utzx3e9kGDI/AAAAAAAAIH0/g9NPLAZLBAw/s1600/43+car+on+descent+to+elephant+hill+needles.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" src="http://2.bp.blogspot.com/-neBRBqikXbw/Utzx3e9kGDI/AAAAAAAAIH0/g9NPLAZLBAw/s1600/43+car+on+descent+to+elephant+hill+needles.jpg" height="297" width="400" /></a></td></tr>
<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">Four-wheeler on Elephant Hill</td></tr>
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This about wraps it up for us. But I should not forget that we had a nice return trip back to Moab in late evening sun! So let me round up this over-long tale by showing some pictures from route 211, about where the grazing ground of a famous old farm, the <a href="http://www.nytimes.com/1997/11/23/business/land-rich-but-cash-poor-in-the-west.html?pagewanted=all&src=pm">Dugout Ranch</a>, is meeting the highway in the picturesque Indian Creek Valley.<br />
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<table align="center" cellpadding="0" cellspacing="0" class="tr-caption-container" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto; text-align: center;"><tbody>
<tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="http://4.bp.blogspot.com/-W0KXqJlhmuU/Utz7vK-5cUI/AAAAAAAAIIY/1YmgDQBv1v8/s1600/44+utah+highway+211+along+indian+creek.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" src="http://4.bp.blogspot.com/-W0KXqJlhmuU/Utz7vK-5cUI/AAAAAAAAIIY/1YmgDQBv1v8/s1600/44+utah+highway+211+along+indian+creek.jpg" height="266" width="400" /></a></td></tr>
<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">Utah Highway 211 in Indian Creek Valley</td></tr>
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<tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="http://4.bp.blogspot.com/-hVHxte1x4C0/Utz7vIA09cI/AAAAAAAAIIc/BEiGcxZ1Cjo/s1600/45+dugout+ranch+cattle+along+indian+creek+and+sixshooter+peaks+seen+from+utah+highway+211.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" src="http://4.bp.blogspot.com/-hVHxte1x4C0/Utz7vIA09cI/AAAAAAAAIIc/BEiGcxZ1Cjo/s1600/45+dugout+ranch+cattle+along+indian+creek+and+sixshooter+peaks+seen+from+utah+highway+211.jpg" height="192" width="400" /></a></td></tr>
<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">Cattle from <a href="http://www.nytimes.com/1997/11/23/business/land-rich-but-cash-poor-in-the-west.html?pagewanted=all&src=pm">Dugout Ranch</a>. The two <a href="http://www.scenicusa.net/051707.html">Six-Shooter Peaks</a> to the right </td></tr>
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<tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="http://1.bp.blogspot.com/-HdinZrzq8dE/Utz7vLaLcUI/AAAAAAAAIIg/2QJU8ubahwk/s1600/46+dugout+ranch+cattle+along+indian+creek+seen+from+utah+highway+211+.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" src="http://1.bp.blogspot.com/-HdinZrzq8dE/Utz7vLaLcUI/AAAAAAAAIIg/2QJU8ubahwk/s1600/46+dugout+ranch+cattle+along+indian+creek+seen+from+utah+highway+211+.jpg" height="231" width="400" /></a></td></tr>
<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">Cattle from Dugout Ranch in Indian Creek Valley</td></tr>
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Finally, to show you the difference between conservation activities in federal/state reserves and commercial activities, have a look at this abomination along route 191.<br />
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<table align="center" cellpadding="0" cellspacing="0" class="tr-caption-container" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto; text-align: center;"><tbody>
<tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="http://1.bp.blogspot.com/-q_gL1KKACBQ/Utz7vlGkY1I/AAAAAAAAIIo/fPfQxEH2Ba8/s1600/47+hole+in+the+rock+tourist+trap+on+us+highway+163+DSC_0590+Display.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" src="http://1.bp.blogspot.com/-q_gL1KKACBQ/Utz7vlGkY1I/AAAAAAAAIIo/fPfQxEH2Ba8/s1600/47+hole+in+the+rock+tourist+trap+on+us+highway+163+DSC_0590+Display.jpg" height="266" width="400" /></a></td></tr>
<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">Back to "<a href="http://theholeintherock.com/">civilisation</a>" on US Highway 191 towards Moab</td></tr>
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Emil Emshttp://www.blogger.com/profile/07815643585218883358noreply@blogger.com9Needles District, Canyonlands NP; Utah, USA39.3209801 -111.0937311000000133.0518081 -121.4208796 45.5901521 -100.76658260000002tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-2242228370300474063.post-25036990339285759252013-12-19T15:51:00.000+01:002014-01-18T12:50:07.326+01:00DISC WORLD<div dir="ltr" style="text-align: left;" trbidi="on">
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<tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="http://2.bp.blogspot.com/-2Va9oWrVcyI/UrFligLDNRI/AAAAAAAAH9E/DIaYM6mMKi8/s1600/White+Rim+Panorama+South+Island+in+the+Sky.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" src="http://2.bp.blogspot.com/-2Va9oWrVcyI/UrFligLDNRI/AAAAAAAAH9E/DIaYM6mMKi8/s400/White+Rim+Panorama+South+Island+in+the+Sky.jpg" height="400" width="373" /></a></td></tr>
<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">Looking South from Grand View Point Overlook on Island in the Sky</td></tr>
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If you – like me – have kept a certain sense of boyish wonderment, you may have delved into Science Fiction books now and then and be familiar with the work of Pratchett. His is an elaborate vision of an alternative world, not a globe like ours, but flat and with a distinctive edge where it ends. If you were standing at that world's end, you would look down a vertical cliff of indefinite height, with mist and distant fog hiding the down yonder.<br />
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This vision came to mind when I was clinging to the edge you are seeing above, in company with the ant sized persons standing in the upper right of the picture. What were we seeing, when looking beyond and below this impressive red precipice? Precipice is the right word for it, since it is sloping down for almost half a kilometer, before ending in a flat basin of White Rim Sandstone (actually, the color is more brown-like) that stretches many kilometers to the South.<br />
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About halfway into that basin, a mighty river, the Colorado, has cut a meandering deep valley into the White Rim Sandstone, called The Loop. At the opposite side, you can barely glance, in the mist, a wall that must be about the same height as the one we are standing on top of. Further out, plateau upon plateau is filling the void, with the odd higher mountain or two towering over it all.<br />
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<tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="http://3.bp.blogspot.com/-uwKg6cVn6Ks/UrFsgGwbceI/AAAAAAAAH9U/k3VgQ30ytmM/s1600/Colorado+Meander+seen+from+Grand+View+Point+Island+in+the+Sky.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" src="http://3.bp.blogspot.com/-uwKg6cVn6Ks/UrFsgGwbceI/AAAAAAAAH9U/k3VgQ30ytmM/s400/Colorado+Meander+seen+from+Grand+View+Point+Island+in+the+Sky.jpg" height="263" width="400" /></a></td></tr>
<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">Colorado Meander ("The Loop") South of Island in the Sky</td></tr>
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The edge we are standing on belongs to a small and narrow tableland, called <a href="http://www.nps.gov/cany/planyourvisit/islandinthesky.htm">Island in the Sky</a>. This plateau is jutting out, like a peninsula, into a broad and wide basin shaped by the eroding confluence of two mighty rivers, the Green River and the Colorado. We are in the very core of an immense collection of tablelands, called the<a href="http://en.wikipedia.org/wiki/Colorado_Plateau"> Colorado Plateau</a>, one of the utmost wonders in the world. The Colorado Plateau is about twice the size of Sweden. From where we are standing, and looking South in the direction of the picture above, it reaches out for another 60 miles or so – and we are talking SWEDISH MILES here, not paltry Imperial ones.<br />
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How did this immense region of flatland upon flatland, situated at an average 2 kilometers above sea level, come to be? That expanse is something of an anomaly in the geologic scheme of things. It consists of a single, very (many kilometers) thick block of Earth crust that has remained remarkably stable over the eons (the past 600 million years), with very little disruption like faulting or folding of rock layers; this in stark contrast to all surrounding regions in America.<br />
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About 30 million years ago, this whole block, essentially flat, was <a href="http://geomaps.wr.usgs.gov/parks/province/coloplat.html">lifted some 3 kilometers upward</a>, by forces still uncertain. It was raised as a unified "table", albeit with a slight upward tilt towards the North. The main rivers already existed before that and could resume their eroding tasks with a vengeance at the increased altitude. The result we can nowadays admire as an immense region of flat tablelands at differing altitude, interspersed with canyons and wide basins; all caused by eroding streams, helped by their friends the wind, rain, snow, ice and sand.<br />
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<tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="http://2.bp.blogspot.com/-Xf82nWkLlv4/UrF8tzaMrII/AAAAAAAAH9k/wUo8_v7fh_4/s1600/White+Rim+Overlook+South+Island+in+the+Sky.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" src="http://2.bp.blogspot.com/-Xf82nWkLlv4/UrF8tzaMrII/AAAAAAAAH9k/wUo8_v7fh_4/s400/White+Rim+Overlook+South+Island+in+the+Sky.jpg" height="400" width="400" /></a></td></tr>
<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">Rim of Island in the Sky</td></tr>
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We had reached the view point mentioned above on our way to Upheaval Dome (<a href="http://emilems.blogspot.se/2013/12/bubble-or-trouble.html">Bubble or Trouble?</a>). On the way there, our guide made a brief stop at Island in the Sky's Visitor Center, to give us hikers a chance to get acquainted with the National Park. There we were told that a Ranger would give a presentation at eleven am at the Grand View Point Overlook. Now, Rangers are generally excellent presenters, with many acting out an impressive performance so, off we rushed, eager to partake in the experience.<br />
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And we were not disappointed. The view from up there was extraordinary, as already described above, and the Ranger was busy preparing his lecture.<br />
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<tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="http://4.bp.blogspot.com/-UZwQCJvwBeo/UrGluO6_hLI/AAAAAAAAH90/vYu62keXliA/s1600/Ranger+and+Hikers+White+Rim+Overlook.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" src="http://4.bp.blogspot.com/-UZwQCJvwBeo/UrGluO6_hLI/AAAAAAAAH90/vYu62keXliA/s400/Ranger+and+Hikers+White+Rim+Overlook.jpg" height="320" width="400" /></a></td></tr>
<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">Ranger and hikers at Grand View Point Overlookt, Island in the Sky</td></tr>
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And what a performance he gave! The theme of the day was the <a href="http://en.wikipedia.org/wiki/Powell_Geographic_Expedition_of_1869">Powell Geographic Expedition of 1869 </a>. John Wesley Powell was a one armed Civil War veteran, with some experience of river rafting, as well as a solid education in natural sciences. He decided to be the first to raft the waterway of the Green and Colorado Rivers, from Wyoming to the confluence of Virgin River and Colorado in Southwestern Utah. In this way, he intended to pass through and chart a major part of the Colorado Plateau.<br />
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He had nine companions with him, five of which made it to the end. One of the others, an Englishman, had enough early on and went on to more mundane things. The three remaining, experienced trappers and hunters all, gave up towards the end of Grand Canyon, fearing that they would not survive the rapids they saw ahead of them. They hiked out of the canyon, never to be seen again, whereas Powell forced the remaining narrows successfully and arrived at his destination, the Virgin River, unharmed two days later.<br />
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<tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="http://3.bp.blogspot.com/-KYlJ0X81TQ0/UrGuE1PrP9I/AAAAAAAAH-E/lPJ7u-M6FmY/s1600/Ranger+at+White+Rim+Overlook.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" src="http://3.bp.blogspot.com/-KYlJ0X81TQ0/UrGuE1PrP9I/AAAAAAAAH-E/lPJ7u-M6FmY/s400/Ranger+at+White+Rim+Overlook.jpg" height="400" width="240" /></a></td></tr>
<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">Ranger acting out Powell</td></tr>
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Hearing the Ranger speak about this remarkable venture made you almost believe that Powell himself was standing before us. The man's exploits speak for themselves, but the presentation touched upon many interesting details not usually mentioned in the summaries made about his expedition. For instance, Powell had the habit of climbing the canyon walls, one armed, in order to gauge their height. This was done by measuring the difference in air pressure between bottom and top, so he also had to balance a delicate barometer in his pocket during each climb!<br />
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For us weaklings, just looking DOWN one of those slopes causes you vertigo, not to speak of climbing them with one hand in your pocket! This is a man of dedication for you! He also preserved many views of his trip for posterity in remarkably well made pictures.<br />
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<tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="http://2.bp.blogspot.com/-LBhOdwseN1U/UrGwiVyX0LI/AAAAAAAAH-Q/UGi0M770dH4/s1600/Cataract+Canyon.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" src="http://2.bp.blogspot.com/-LBhOdwseN1U/UrGwiVyX0LI/AAAAAAAAH-Q/UGi0M770dH4/s400/Cataract+Canyon.jpg" height="400" width="312" /></a></td></tr>
<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">Looking down Cataract Canyon <i>Courtesy: <a href="http://www.oac.cdlib.org/ark:/13030/tf567nb7hs/?docId=tf567nb7hs&brand=oac4&layout=printable-details">Bancroft Library</a></i></td></tr>
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This picture, for which he also had to take a CAMERA AND TRIPOD with him, when climbing the canyon wall – isn't it amazing? –, shows a view of Cataract Canyon, a canyon just South of Island in the Sky, and carved by the Colorado soon after having been joined by the Green River. The river looks rather peaceful from above, doesn't it? In fact, this is<span style="background-color: white; text-align: justify;"> the steepest and wildest reach of the Colorado, containing 64 rapids. No wonder Powell wanted to document it before daring its descent. </span><br />
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Enheartend by these tales, we rushed onwards to our exploit of Upheaval Dome (<a href="http://emilems.blogspot.se/2013/12/bubble-or-trouble.html">Bubble or Trouble?</a>). Another outer worldly experience! But the day was far from over. Upon our return from this big "hole in the ground" we stopped at another view point on Island in the Sky, called Green River Overlook. I am mentioning this brief interlude since it provided me with a vista already documented from a slightly different angle in the previous post.<br />
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<tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="http://1.bp.blogspot.com/-fvfSD7eZcH0/UrG_Nc2FslI/AAAAAAAAH-g/wRy6S4bP-6U/s1600/The+Anderson+Bottom+Rincon+from+Green+River+Overlook.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" src="http://1.bp.blogspot.com/-fvfSD7eZcH0/UrG_Nc2FslI/AAAAAAAAH-g/wRy6S4bP-6U/s400/The+Anderson+Bottom+Rincon+from+Green+River+Overlook.jpg" height="236" width="400" /></a></td></tr>
<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">The Anderson Bottom Rincon of Green River, seen from Green River Overlook</td></tr>
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We are again standing on the Island's rim, but this time on its Western side, and looking in a Westnorthwest direection. The basin we see at our feet is carved out by the Green River, which at that stage is as mighty as the Colorado. The dark configuration on the upper left is intriguing. The river used there to run through a loop canyon cut out be itself, just like The Loop of the Colorado, seen earlier. However, it does not run through the loop anymore, since it has found a much shorter way by eroding down a dividing canyon wall. We are here admiring the so called Anderson Bottom Rincon.<br />
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You may recall an earlier picture taken along the trail to Upheaval Dome (<a href="http://emilems.blogspot.se/2013/12/bubble-or-trouble.html">Bubble or Trouble?</a>). It was taken much further North on this Western Rim of Island in the Sky, at a lower altitude, and heading the camera towards Northwest. Therefore it does not show the Anderson Rincon any longer, rather, a stretch of the river basin further North.<br />
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Time to leave Island in the Sky, you think? "Yes!", in a way. But on that same day's afternoon we had rushed on to a further hike – weren't we hardy? – that took place on a small side-peninsula, jutting out southward from the Island at its Northeastern end. It has a rather narrow start, being only 30 meters broad there, and has its end-viewpoint just on top of a very scenic loop of the Colorado. It is called <a href="http://en.wikipedia.org/wiki/Dead_Horse_Point_State_Park">Dead Horse Point</a>.<br />
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<tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="http://1.bp.blogspot.com/--5ESfKvlhh0/UrLF_puVi3I/AAAAAAAAH-w/sxXbyLN1zzk/s1600/Hikers+East+Trail+Dead+Horses+Point.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" src="http://1.bp.blogspot.com/--5ESfKvlhh0/UrLF_puVi3I/AAAAAAAAH-w/sxXbyLN1zzk/s400/Hikers+East+Trail+Dead+Horses+Point.jpg" height="262" width="400" /></a></td></tr>
<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">Hiking the Eastern flank of Dead Horse Peninsula </td></tr>
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Our hike started at the Visttor Center (it is a State Park), which is located at the narrow neck of the small peninsula. From there we went South on its Eastern side, all the way down to the view point. It was getting later in the afternoon, so we had to hurry, but there was still time to take a nice panoramic picture of the gorge below us.<br />
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I invite you to double click on the picture below, so that you can get it at full size. In mid-afternoon, the "light is getting right" for landscape pictures and you can see far on this one. On the upper left you are looking at the La Sal mountains, which we could admire already in Arches National Park (<a href="http://emilems.blogspot.se/2013/11/a-city-built-on-salt.html">A City Built on Salt</a>), although most of the snow on top had melted away since. Speaking of Arches, you can just about locate it as the light brown piece of land on the upper left under the La Sal. Below it you can also discover the huge red wall (partly hidden by the tower located in mid-distance) we had to climb with the car to get up there from Moab.<br />
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<tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="http://1.bp.blogspot.com/-c3CmRjbUIEg/UrLGdbrOSXI/AAAAAAAAH-4/L90dDwgdJ-g/s1600/Basin+Overlook+Dead+Horses+Point.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" src="http://1.bp.blogspot.com/-c3CmRjbUIEg/UrLGdbrOSXI/AAAAAAAAH-4/L90dDwgdJ-g/s400/Basin+Overlook+Dead+Horses+Point.jpg" height="200" width="400" /></a></td></tr>
<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">Looking North from Basin Overlook</td></tr>
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Further down, let me point out to you to the two lakes located in the upper basin. You may have guessed already that those cannot be natural, with their azure color and incongruous location. And your guess would be right. We are seeing here a huge mining compound, which is producing Potash (potassium carbonate). This is done by pumping water with high pressure into the mines, thereby leaching out the salts in question. The resulting brine is then kept in the two large reservoirs we are seeing and left to dry. After the water has evaporated, the potash can easily be collected. A primitive but effective manner of production, and probably not very poisonous either. After all, we are talking about some kind of baking powder here.<br />
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But it is getting late in the afternoon, so let's hurry on the the main Viewpoint, which permits us a look straight down on the Colorado, as it is carving its curvy route through the wide plain.<br />
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<tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="http://4.bp.blogspot.com/-ExhmCynxjV0/UrLL7eUpA_I/AAAAAAAAH_I/xUutvOc76sM/s1600/Dead+Horse+Point+Overlook.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" src="http://4.bp.blogspot.com/-ExhmCynxjV0/UrLL7eUpA_I/AAAAAAAAH_I/xUutvOc76sM/s400/Dead+Horse+Point+Overlook.jpg" height="283" width="400" /></a></td></tr>
<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">Colorado neck seen from Dead Horse Point</td></tr>
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At this stage spectators use to put two questions: Why "Dead Horse Point"? And where does the road lead, that you can glance winding around on the plain rounding the river? As to the first, there is an intriguing story behind it. The small peninsula in the sky we are standing on, was used, in olden times, by cowboys to corral in wild horse, the "mustangs" they caught in this wild landscape. Since the peninsula had a small neck, only 30 meters wide, you could easily fence it off there and keep the mustangs enclosed. The saying is that the cowboys selected only the best horses for sale and left the rest to die; there is no water up here so they either had to die of thirst on the spot, or die trying to climb down to the big river.<br />
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The road you are seeing is really a dirt trail, the White Rim Trail of fame. It circles all around the Island in the Sky – including its sidekick, the Dead Horse Peninsula – and mainly follows the winding courses of the Green and the Colorado. It was originally built by the State as an access road for miners, looking for promising stakes, but is nowadays a cult track for bicyclists and four-wheel drivers. If you feel the urge to go down there and join them, why not have a look at a famous <a href="http://www.anthonysloan.com/whiterim1.html">blog</a> describing a cycle tour along the road, with pictures and all. The picture below is borrowed from that blog.<br />
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<tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="http://3.bp.blogspot.com/-kh3aj867UNQ/UrLWc3kVqtI/AAAAAAAAH_Y/lx0J8eEKFrM/s1600/White+Rim+Road.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" src="http://3.bp.blogspot.com/-kh3aj867UNQ/UrLWc3kVqtI/AAAAAAAAH_Y/lx0J8eEKFrM/s400/White+Rim+Road.jpg" height="400" width="265" /></a></td></tr>
<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">Cycling the White Rim Road <i>Source: <a href="http://www.anthonysloan.com/whiterim1.html">Anthony Sloan</a></i></td></tr>
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That gotten out of the way, we can concentrate on our return hike, this time along the Western Rim of Dead Horse Peninsula. Again we were confronted with marvelous views, but this time quite different. What we were admiring here was a comparatively narrow canyon separating this small peninsula from the main Island in the Sky. Furthermore, the sun was now approaching an angle sufficiently low to get me excited as photographer!<br />
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<tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="http://2.bp.blogspot.com/-v7TL6eQ7jck/UrL9xIFX9lI/AAAAAAAAH_o/6ZZS_8bxRMs/s1600/Shafer+Canyon+Overlook+Dead+Horses+Point.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" src="http://2.bp.blogspot.com/-v7TL6eQ7jck/UrL9xIFX9lI/AAAAAAAAH_o/6ZZS_8bxRMs/s400/Shafer+Canyon+Overlook+Dead+Horses+Point.jpg" height="266" width="400" /></a></td></tr>
<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">Shafer Canyon Overlook, Dead Horse Point</td></tr>
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So let's polish off our overlook pictures with a cosy panorama, actually my favorite picture from this trip to Utah. This time, I got even myself into the view, but don't ask me how! Only two of our group are missing, the rest busy with admiring the scenario. I said above that there was a narrow canyon separating us from the greater Island in the Sky. Let me emphasize this by pointing out to you the great wall on the horizon. It is cut off rather abruptly towards the upper left of this picture. This is nought but the Western Rim of Island in the Sky! This is were I was standing, a bit to the right of the cut-off, when taking the title picture of this blog post at eleven am that very morning.<br />
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<tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="http://2.bp.blogspot.com/-whWQoHue6Yw/UrL-dlMdS2I/AAAAAAAAH_w/UpPGS1H3yCg/s1600/Rim+Overlook+Dead+Horses+Point.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" src="http://2.bp.blogspot.com/-whWQoHue6Yw/UrL-dlMdS2I/AAAAAAAAH_w/UpPGS1H3yCg/s400/Rim+Overlook+Dead+Horses+Point.jpg" height="161" width="400" /></a></td></tr>
<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">Rim Overlook, Dead Horse Point. Island in the Sky in the background</td></tr>
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You may think that the canyon in between is not as small as that! This may be true, but size is relative. Compared to the basin carved out by the two mighty rivers, it stands indeed as a small, and narrow feature of Canyonlands. And rightly so, since it was not created by either great river. Its creation must rather be sought in small rivulets of water trickling down from the upper plateaus, and getting substantial only in periods of heavy raining. But it does not take much to create a canyon! Imagine a small rivulet that is cutting off half a millimeter of sandstone beneath itself once a year, after a heavy rain. This makes a cut half a meter deep in a thousand years, but HALF A KILOMETER DEEP in a million years. And a million years is to geology what a blink of the eye is to us!<br />
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But we are still humans and to us it is important to get a nice meal once the sun has set. Fortunately, there were only 20 minutes left to hike back to the Visitor Center, where our car was parked. In the mean-time the sun had already settled behind low clouds, and a beautiful mellow light was shining over the sagebrush and the pinyon pines we had to sidestep along the way.<br />
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<table align="center" cellpadding="0" cellspacing="0" class="tr-caption-container" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto; text-align: center;"><tbody>
<tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="http://1.bp.blogspot.com/-Qi1XFHQq21Q/UrMDLDMGiLI/AAAAAAAAIAE/lGaxdla0HKQ/s1600/Hikers+at+Dead+Horses+Neck.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" src="http://1.bp.blogspot.com/-Qi1XFHQq21Q/UrMDLDMGiLI/AAAAAAAAIAE/lGaxdla0HKQ/s400/Hikers+at+Dead+Horses+Neck.jpg" height="271" width="400" /></a></td></tr>
<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">Hikers on Dead Horse Neck</td></tr>
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It must have rained or snowed rather heavily a week or so prior to our arrival – shaving off another half a millimeter from the canyon floors –, since the sagebrush was showing off its very best bloomings. But, to brush off this blog post that has concentrated on big stones most of the time, below is a portrait of the Pinyon Pine, since I suspect most of you readers have scant an idea of what it looks like at closer range.<br />
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<table align="center" cellpadding="0" cellspacing="0" class="tr-caption-container" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto; text-align: center;"><tbody>
<tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="http://1.bp.blogspot.com/-cA_Sl_2le8Q/UrMDBiFlNZI/AAAAAAAAH_8/ULlzK-ddCto/s1600/Pinyon+Juniper+Dead+Horses+Neck.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" src="http://1.bp.blogspot.com/-cA_Sl_2le8Q/UrMDBiFlNZI/AAAAAAAAH_8/ULlzK-ddCto/s400/Pinyon+Juniper+Dead+Horses+Neck.jpg" height="400" width="400" /></a></td></tr>
<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">Pinyon Pine on Dead Horse Neck</td></tr>
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Emil Emshttp://www.blogger.com/profile/07815643585218883358noreply@blogger.com6tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-2242228370300474063.post-3299078294536437652013-12-11T11:35:00.000+01:002014-01-20T15:12:26.637+01:00BUBBLE OR TROUBLE?<div dir="ltr" style="text-align: left;" trbidi="on">
<table align="center" cellpadding="0" cellspacing="0" class="tr-caption-container" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto; text-align: center;"><tbody>
<tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="http://3.bp.blogspot.com/--GEBDFIqXYc/UqSQ6bk-66I/AAAAAAAAH6o/0Hdus4ZpZUI/s1600/Group+of+Eight+at+the+Abyss.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" src="http://3.bp.blogspot.com/--GEBDFIqXYc/UqSQ6bk-66I/AAAAAAAAH6o/0Hdus4ZpZUI/s400/Group+of+Eight+at+the+Abyss.jpg" height="400" width="400" /></a></td></tr>
<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">Standing at the Abyss</td></tr>
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What is the Group of Eight – well, five of its Members – looking at here or, rather, turning its back on? We are all standing close to a steep decline on the edge of an enormous hole in the ground, somewhat surprisingly called "<a href="http://geology.utah.gov/surveynotes/geosights/upheaval_dome.htm">Upheaval Dome</a>". The hole, which more appropriately could be called "Superbowl", is vaguely circular, has a diameter of five kilometers and is close to half a kilometer deep. If you were to put your mind to it, you could easily fit in there the largest man-made amphitheater on Earth, the Collosseum. Did I say ONE Collosseum? In fact, more than 80 of them could find their place in this vast expanse. Playing with the notion of setting up an opera on its bottom, the whole population of Utah would be able to attend the performance, with room to spare.<br />
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Upheaval Dome is located in Canyonlands National Park, and is accessible through a road starting from Moab Valley opposite the entrance to Arches National Park. As in the latter, your car has to climb a steep ascent, but on the Southwestern wall bordering the huge Salt Valley of Moab (see <a href="http://emilems.blogspot.se/2013/11/a-city-built-on-salt.html">A City Built on Salt</a>) in order to arrive at this new section of the high plateaus. I will have more to tell about the plateau itself in the next blog, so let's concentrate for now on our visit to the Dome.<br />
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<tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="http://3.bp.blogspot.com/-e2aH97DvSTo/UqSauDXVvAI/AAAAAAAAH64/F0dCB8HhJnc/s1600/Hiking+towards+Upheaval+Dome.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" src="http://3.bp.blogspot.com/-e2aH97DvSTo/UqSauDXVvAI/AAAAAAAAH64/F0dCB8HhJnc/s400/Hiking+towards+Upheaval+Dome.jpg" height="400" width="400" /></a></td></tr>
<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">Hiking towards Upheaval Dome</td></tr>
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After having climbed the plateau's steep promontory, another half an hour's drive brings you to the trailhead. From there, you have to climb a steep slope for 15 minutes or so – isn't that always the case in the hikes I am reporting here? –, but after that it is a relatively easy hike of a few kilometers to the Dome. The terrain reminds you a bit of the trail to Delicate Arch (<a href="http://emilems.blogspot.se/2013/11/gods-delicate-fingers.html">God's Delicate Fingers</a>), leading you along on huge slates of tilting sandstone; the main difference being that you are treading on Navajo Sandstone here, instead of on Entrada Stone.<br />
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Still, when you the least expect it, wide panoramas open up along the trail. Have a look at the picture above: deep down below lies, towards the West, a basin that is bordered on the far side by another plateau, quite like the one we are standing on. Looking more closely down at the lowlands (you have to click twice on the picture to enlarge it!), you can just about glance some brown declines, that have been burrowed by the Green River on its way to meet the Colorado, some kilometers farther South. In fact, this whole basin must be the result of erosion following that river's burrowing, with rain, wind and ice keeping on the good work once started by the river.<br />
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<table align="center" cellpadding="0" cellspacing="0" class="tr-caption-container" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto; text-align: center;"><tbody>
<tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="http://4.bp.blogspot.com/-si2zWsbeeVI/UqWi4XKgylI/AAAAAAAAH7Y/FicGH8ISAaY/s1600/Pause+at+Upheaval+Dome+Trail.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" src="http://4.bp.blogspot.com/-si2zWsbeeVI/UqWi4XKgylI/AAAAAAAAH7Y/FicGH8ISAaY/s400/Pause+at+Upheaval+Dome+Trail.jpg" height="320" width="400" /></a></td></tr>
<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">Standing on a giant footstep</td></tr>
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Coming back to our hike, the access to the Dome equals descending an oversized staircase of three steps of sandstone, with width and height of step as adapted to a giant. Once you have climbed down the last step, you arrive at a narrow ledge and, just a few paces beyond, an immense void is opening up at your feet. First you have problems of grasping the immensity of it. You are looking at this circular bowl carved out of layers upon layers of sandstone and it is not looking much different to you than the odd stone quarry or two that you have visited over the years.<br />
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Only gradually it dawns on you that the ants crawling on the gravel down yonder are actually fellow hikers ambling around huge boulders! Your brain is catching up with your eyes and your mind is rejoicing at the experience. How to convey this sense of wonder to you readers in a picture? I was standing there in the middle of the day – not the best time for portraying landscapes – and the camera could, even with the widest angle of the zoom lens, only capture about 1/6 of the expanse. Well, a wonder of nature deserves some consideration. So I took 8 pictures and pieced them together in a humble panorama. Even so, I was able to catch only about half the diameter of this underground bowl for you to look at.<br />
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<tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="http://3.bp.blogspot.com/-VH_kpUwLMXI/UqWbbTG1CgI/AAAAAAAAH7I/rXFHf1gP58g/s1600/Upheaval+Dome+Second+Overlook.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" src="http://3.bp.blogspot.com/-VH_kpUwLMXI/UqWbbTG1CgI/AAAAAAAAH7I/rXFHf1gP58g/s400/Upheaval+Dome+Second+Overlook.jpg" height="181" width="400" /></a></td></tr>
<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">Panorama of Upheaval Dome – about half of its expanse!</td></tr>
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How was this "Superbowl" created? Surprisingly enough, scientists are of two minds about it. Early on, they believed that it was the result of a huge Salt Dome having been formed eons ago by tectonic pressure (like the salt wallowing I mentioned in <a href="http://emilems.blogspot.se/2013/11/a-city-built-on-salt.html">A City Built on Salt</a>, which had caused the formations in Arches National Monument, as well as the Moab Salt Valley). What a sight it would have been to behold it, a dome of pure salt, glistening in the sun, and surrounded by sandstone slates – disrupted and shoved aside during the dome's formation – like worshippers of a Goddess of White. Of course, such a dome would not have been able to withstand the powers of erosion for long and only the void left after its dissolution would have remained.<br />
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This hypothesis, romantic as it is, has – to our regret – succumbed to a more prosaic explanation. Geologists now believe the crater to have been caused by a meteorite, a "boulder" with about 500 meters in diameter that had crashed onto the plateau about 60 million years ago. This conclusion originally arose through a comparison of this crater with similar ones known to have been caused by meteorite collision, on Earth as well as on the moon.<br />
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One feature in particular singles out such a crater – if it is large –, namely that its very bottom is not level. Rather, there is a central uplift: the stone layers at this bottom of the initial impact suddenly find themselves bereaved of the huge wedge of stone on top of them that has weighed them down before the impact, but has now suddenly evaporated. This causes them to rise. If you have difficulties understanding this process, just think at the time when you had broken a bone in your arm and had to keep it in plaster for a month or so. Immediately after the plaster is removed, the arm will rise of its own, relieved from a weight it had to support for so long. <br />
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<tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="http://1.bp.blogspot.com/-0G_lXx7NEHw/UqXEFhIv45I/AAAAAAAAH70/JwCNPcd_y4s/s1600/Complex+Crater+Formation_1.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" src="http://1.bp.blogspot.com/-0G_lXx7NEHw/UqXEFhIv45I/AAAAAAAAH70/JwCNPcd_y4s/s640/Complex+Crater+Formation_1.jpg" height="640" width="408" /></a></td></tr>
<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">Complex crater after meteorite impact <i>Source: <a href="http://www.lpi.usra.edu/nlsi/education/hsResearch/crateringLab/lab/part1/background/">Center for Lunar Science and Exploration</a></i></td></tr>
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If you care to take a look at the panorama again, you are seeing some white stone layers, seemingly embedded in the opposite rim. But in fact, these are miniature mountain peaks, ragged like splintered teeth in a boxer's mouth, located smack in the middle of the crater and rising some 200 meters from its bottom. Sometimes you have to look at an object from very far away to grasp its intrinsic structure. So why not look at the crater from the space station; modern technics permit us to do so without effort. That view shows us clearly the inner void of the crater, with the small mountain, clad in white, rising from its bottom center.<br />
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You can also see the staircase formation – which our group was descending whilst following the trail to the crater – as three semi-eroded ejection layers stemming from the original impact. In fact, if you double click on the picture below, to get it larger, you will actually see the hiking path we used to access the crater rim. It looks like a thin white ribbon on the upper left.<br />
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<table align="center" cellpadding="0" cellspacing="0" class="tr-caption-container" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto; text-align: center;"><tbody>
<tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="http://1.bp.blogspot.com/-f7PHiTx-ueY/UqXJVKzO6rI/AAAAAAAAH8E/NIXOJ_ZIe7g/s1600/Upheaval+Dome+seen+from+Outer+Space.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" src="http://1.bp.blogspot.com/-f7PHiTx-ueY/UqXJVKzO6rI/AAAAAAAAH8E/NIXOJ_ZIe7g/s400/Upheaval+Dome+seen+from+Outer+Space.jpg" height="241" width="400" /></a></td></tr>
<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">Upheaval Dome seen from Space Station <i>Courtesy: NASA</i></td></tr>
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Still, even with these persuasive views, a clearly settling evidence for this hypothesis was long in arriving. Proponents of the Salt Hypothesis could point out that no trace of meteorite material ever had been found in the crater. Their opponents could respond, with glee, that no single grain of salt had ever been seen lodging either on its rim or bottom. After decades of dispute, the issue was finally settled in 2007, when two German scientists, <a href="http://digitalcommons.usu.edu/crc_research/153/">Elmar Buchner and Thomas Kenkmann</a>, found a host of tiny quartz crystals at the bottom, that showed clear signs of having been subjected to high pressure of a meteorite impact. So there, one mystery less in the world! A pity, isn't it?<br />
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Of course, when our group was standing at the rim, admiring the view, we had scant inkling of this decades-long scientific discourse. We were off to a nice hiking trip, after all! Soon it was time to retrace our steps, since we had another, longer hike ahead of us that afternoon!<br />
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<tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="http://3.bp.blogspot.com/-Hs891q826Qo/UqXQkdWBsYI/AAAAAAAAH8U/iBQPPLv2yiw/s1600/Leaving+Upheaval+Dome.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" src="http://3.bp.blogspot.com/-Hs891q826Qo/UqXQkdWBsYI/AAAAAAAAH8U/iBQPPLv2yiw/s400/Leaving+Upheaval+Dome.jpg" height="320" width="400" /></a></td></tr>
<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">Retracing our steps on the Upheaval Dome Trail</td></tr>
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But there is one more tale to tell, before we end this post, hi-jacked hitherto by scientific arguments. On the way back to our car I had for some time company with a nice American lady, of a certain age. As it happens all the time in the US, we soon were immersed in a nice chat that made us forget the labors of the hike.<br />
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From discussing the wonders we had just witnessed, the discussion rambled on to our great luck of getting access to that wonder despite all. Just a few days before our arrival from Sweden in Utah, President Obama had reopened the National Parks and Monuments, after a month's hiatus due to his budget conflict with Congress. After congratulating ourselves for the good timing of our visits, the lady, to my great surprise, went on by putting all the blame for this shut-down squarely on the President.<br />
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Somewhat astounded by this rash conclusion, I asked her whether the Congress did not have to share part of the blame, too. "No!", was her firm answer, the President was the origin, not only of the recently resolved budget conflict, but of all the problems that had pestered US politics ever since his assuming office.<br />
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<tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="http://1.bp.blogspot.com/--bTR--n_7qU/Uqg2_zB0KuI/AAAAAAAAH8w/VJi3nBXmiwE/s1600/Hiking+towards+Upheaval+Dome+Trailhead+.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" src="http://1.bp.blogspot.com/--bTR--n_7qU/Uqg2_zB0KuI/AAAAAAAAH8w/VJi3nBXmiwE/s400/Hiking+towards+Upheaval+Dome+Trailhead+.jpg" height="400" width="400" /></a></td></tr>
<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">The descent to the trailhead just beyond the horizon</td></tr>
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This emotional answer got me thinking. If even a pleasant and well-educated lady could entertain such fiery sentiments, how must the more fundamental members of the conservative class in the US feel about their Leader? Is there a murky undercurrent poisoning the soul of the conservatives, leading to strong negative feelings towards their President, akin to those we could observe in Sweden's conservatives vis-à-vis Prime Minister Palme decades ago?<br />
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In Palme's case, these feelings of – let's face it – hatred had been caused by a sense of betrayal. Was Palme not born into nobility and had he not disavowed his birthright by pretending to be a radical socialist, like a simple agitator from the working classes?<br />
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In the US, similar feelings could be at play, but caused by another form of perceived betrayal. Was Obama not, due to his colored skin, predestined to be of the class of servants to, and entertainers of, their "betters"? How dare he be better educated, and more eloquent, than even the best among the upper classes? And, insult upon injury, how dare he become Master of his masters?<br />
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Better stop here, lest I get accused of being a busybody, ignorant in US issues at large or, more importantly, to curb the megalomaniac tendencies in my personality. It would take years of solid sociologic research, like the one having been carried out by <a href="http://teachingamericanhistory.org/library/document/an-american-dilemma-a-review/">Myrdal</a>, to judge class sentiments in a society other than our own. My thoughts are just simple musings, based on a short conversation along a pleasant hike.</div>
Emil Emshttp://www.blogger.com/profile/07815643585218883358noreply@blogger.com4tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-2242228370300474063.post-29519596989038250632013-11-25T16:13:00.000+01:002013-11-25T16:16:14.540+01:00A CITY BUILT ON SALT<div dir="ltr" style="text-align: left;" trbidi="on">
<table align="center" cellpadding="0" cellspacing="0" class="tr-caption-container" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto; text-align: center;"><tbody>
<tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="http://3.bp.blogspot.com/-mH6rEJ55rS8/UpJ1AH6Zc4I/AAAAAAAAH2s/OnWBVQOem_4/s1600/Fiery+Furnace,+Arches.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" height="260" src="http://3.bp.blogspot.com/-mH6rEJ55rS8/UpJ1AH6Zc4I/AAAAAAAAH2s/OnWBVQOem_4/s400/Fiery+Furnace,+Arches.jpg" width="400" /></a></td></tr>
<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">Entrada Sandstone Fins at Fiery Furnace, Arches National Park. Salt made it happen!</td></tr>
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Moab was an ancient kingdom situated along the East shore of the Dead Sea, a lake of salty brine in Palestine. But it is not the subject of this post. We are dealing here with a more recently founded place, settled by Mormons at the outset, as so many other cities in the Four-corners region. It is the only city in Utah placed in the Colorado valley. What has this latter-day Moab, a tourist center, got to do with salt, you may well ask?<br />
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In fact, salt lies at the bottom of Moab's whole existence, in many respects. You may be surprised to hear that the town is situated in the middle of a piece of real estate, with a a radius of some 150 kilometers, which harbors one of the biggest deposits of mineral salt in the world. Covered by sandstone, there lies resting, some 150 meters below the surface, a layer of that crystalline medium almost TWO KILOMETERS thick. This is the <a href="http://en.wikipedia.org/wiki/Paradox_Basin">Paradox Basin</a> we are talking about here, stretching South almost to the border with New Mexico, and encompassing both Arches and Canyonlands National Parks.<br />
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A salt layer of such enormity has some peculiar geologic properties, which were discovered by the experts only recently. You will find no mentioning of salt in early brochures of the National Park Service (Yes, I am still safeguarding the booklets we received upon our visits more than 30 years ago), whereas the modern brochures all take care to explain the role salt has played in shaping the environment hereabouts.<br />
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<tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="http://4.bp.blogspot.com/-hr-JfoXPejo/UpJ6rqUedgI/AAAAAAAAH28/Zge0uSrKOaU/s1600/Moab+Valley.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" height="268" src="http://4.bp.blogspot.com/-hr-JfoXPejo/UpJ6rqUedgI/AAAAAAAAH28/Zge0uSrKOaU/s400/Moab+Valley.jpg" width="400" /></a></td></tr>
<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">Moab Valley. Created by salt!</td></tr>
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Over the eons, the Earth crust is subjected to a lot of pressures, as tectonic plates shift, collide and are shoved underneath each other. This has affected the gigantic layer of salt mightily. Salt is of a consistency in between rock and sirup, a geologic toothpaste so to speak. When horizontal pressure is applied to it, it tends to swell upwards, just like – well – the toothpaste in the tube you are squeezing in the morning, just at a greater, geologic scale.<br />
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Huge domes of salt have been created this way, hidden under their roof of sandstone. But the latter is not as plastic as salt, so when lifted up by the rising salt dome, it fractures into fissures. Eventually, the sandstone cupola (that can have a radius of several kilometers) breaks up into upward standing slates and would to us, flying above it, look a bit like enormous stones fitted into a valve or valved bridge.<br />
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As water starts siphoning through all those cracks between the vertical slates, the salt beneath starts dissolving and the bubble sinks back to itself. In many cases, this process comes to a halt, when the overlaying crust of sandstone gets back to its horizontal position. However, the cracks have remained and erosion continues. Eventually, the slates´sides will be shaved off and they start standing freely as so called Fins, as in the title picture. Over time, some of them are ground down completely and the remaining getting sanded down by the wind into sleeker and sleeker shapes. Holes start to appear in those fins and – Voilá! – an Arch is born. Delicate Arch is a good example of just one of many on the plateau.<br />
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<table align="center" cellpadding="0" cellspacing="0" class="tr-caption-container" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto; text-align: center;"><tbody>
<tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="http://3.bp.blogspot.com/-wyrf3RstyD4/UpLxsgk2b8I/AAAAAAAAH3Y/ds9nkGNWdN4/s1600/Balanced+Rock+Panorama,+Arches.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" height="210" src="http://3.bp.blogspot.com/-wyrf3RstyD4/UpLxsgk2b8I/AAAAAAAAH3Y/ds9nkGNWdN4/s400/Balanced+Rock+Panorama,+Arches.jpg" width="400" /></a></td></tr>
<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">Balanced Rock, Arches. La Sal mountains in background</td></tr>
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But those arches don't hold forever either. As the hole under the arch gets bigger, the bridge above eventually collapses and only free standing hoodoos are left. Balanced Rock is a good example of this. Even those hoodoos are getting ground down over the year millions and the end result is a reasonably level plain of sandstone, when entropy has won the fight at long last. Look at the little stubble to the right of Balanced Rock. This is the fundament of a smaller balanced rock that fell down in the early 1970s. Precious little is left and soon what is left will have melted down to a heap of sand.<br />
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We said above that the salt bubble usually stops sinking back when the upper layer retains its roughly horizontal position. But there are exceptions. If the original fissures are large and remain to feed the underlying salt with water even then, the dissolving continues and the sandstone layer eventually is hanging freely over a void. Of course, it collapses soon after and the result can sometimes be a huge valley, several kilometers long and up to one kilometer broad. These are the so called Salt Valleys. Moab Valley, which you can see above, is an example of such a construct.<br />
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When you journey to Moab for the first time, you may believe that the Valley has been shaped by the Colorado River, like so many canyons in the area. It is true that the Colorado runs through it. But it does so at an angle. The aerial view shown below demonstrates, how it has cut its way through the sandstone layer, coming from Colorado in the West and is now flowing into Moab Valley, which has been shaped by other forces. The valley is seen in green, with the town in the lower part of that green.<br />
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<tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="http://2.bp.blogspot.com/-SfpTc4bLAoo/UpJ-M6I3ytI/AAAAAAAAH3I/sET6ophIhVo/s1600/Moab+Valley+and+Colorado+River.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" height="287" src="http://2.bp.blogspot.com/-SfpTc4bLAoo/UpJ-M6I3ytI/AAAAAAAAH3I/sET6ophIhVo/s400/Moab+Valley+and+Colorado+River.jpg" width="400" /></a></td></tr>
<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">Aerial view of the Colorado entering Moab Valley <i>Source: <a href="http://www.grandcountyutah.net/about.htm">Grand County, Utah</a></i></td></tr>
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This takes care of our usual geologic outburst. Time to get back to the story we have to tell. You may recall that we had an intermission after Delicate Arch in the previous blog (<a href="http://emilems.blogspot.se/2013/11/gods-delicate-fingers.html">God's Delicate Fingers</a>). The last big iconic experience left to explore in Arches National Park is the fabulous landscape called <a href="http://www.utah.com/nationalparks/arches/devils_garden_hike.htm">Devil's Garden</a>. In these surroundings we really can get our fill of Sandstone Fins, since the whole area is just built up by them.<br />
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Besides the fins, there are also numerous arches to admire, I count at least ten of them. However, as usual, we concentrate on the most scenic ones, Landscape Arch and Double O Arch. To see them both, you have to take a hike of some 5 hours (roundtrip), but it is worth it. So let's get on with it and tell about the trail's wonders as we go.<br />
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<table align="center" cellpadding="0" cellspacing="0" class="tr-caption-container" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto; text-align: center;"><tbody>
<tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="http://1.bp.blogspot.com/-w83FhvHYqIE/UpMWat8jaWI/AAAAAAAAH3o/7NJtXgD724g/s1600/Devil's+Garden+Trailhead,+Arches+.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" height="198" src="http://1.bp.blogspot.com/-w83FhvHYqIE/UpMWat8jaWI/AAAAAAAAH3o/7NJtXgD724g/s400/Devil's+Garden+Trailhead,+Arches+.jpg" width="400" /></a></td></tr>
<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">Devil's Garden Trailhead, Arches. La Sal mountains in the background</td></tr>
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The trail starts in a cosy area, where Alice and I had been camping, back in 1980, so this is well treaded terrain for me. As you can see, visitors are being lured into the hike by a spacious path, which actually continues all the way up to Landscape Arch. But soon you come to a tight passage between cliffs glowing in intensive red in the shade. This is a foreboding of things to come, even if the terrain thereafter is widening again.<br />
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<table align="center" cellpadding="0" cellspacing="0" class="tr-caption-container" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto; text-align: center;"><tbody>
<tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="http://3.bp.blogspot.com/-9WXuJCAfYEc/UpMXpM3ovOI/AAAAAAAAH30/eh-BPWzAyEM/s1600/Sandstone+Glow,+Arches.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" height="266" src="http://3.bp.blogspot.com/-9WXuJCAfYEc/UpMXpM3ovOI/AAAAAAAAH30/eh-BPWzAyEM/s400/Sandstone+Glow,+Arches.jpg" width="400" /></a></td></tr>
<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">Sandstone Glow, Devil's Garden, Arches</td></tr>
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But not to worry, the path is wide, the air is clear and the number of co-hikers is far from that on the way to Delicate Arch. This is a hike for aficionados, not for the creti and pleti among tourists!<br />
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<tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="http://2.bp.blogspot.com/-r1S78k4n58E/UpMYmyxe-QI/AAAAAAAAH4A/MvNTy4E-Nds/s1600/Trail+to+Landscape+Arch,+Arches.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" height="242" src="http://2.bp.blogspot.com/-r1S78k4n58E/UpMYmyxe-QI/AAAAAAAAH4A/MvNTy4E-Nds/s400/Trail+to+Landscape+Arch,+Arches.jpg" width="400" /></a></td></tr>
<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">Looking back at the "Narrows". Trail on upper right</td></tr>
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It takes just about half an hour's walk to come to the main attraction of this hike, Landscape Arch. This wonder of slimness is said to be the longest natural bridge in the world. Looking at it, high above your head, and thinned out to almost nothing, you wonder how it can hold together at all. But hold together it does. In the old days, when I was young, I had climbed up there and treaded across – can you believe it? I have to say that it was kind of a balancing act in places, with the bridge not even granting you a meter of plane surface to cling to with your sandals.<br />
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Nowadays you are completely forbidden to repeat this act – not that I had thought of doing it again! You can't even go near the Arch anymore, not to speak of rambling under it to admire its span. There is now a only a fenced-in path at a distance, allowing you to inspect it without getting too close.<br />
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<tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="http://4.bp.blogspot.com/-udd6vl35KUI/UpMcWcNQx2I/AAAAAAAAH4M/n_lzdEcbUVs/s1600/Below+Landcape+Arch,+Arches.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" height="400" src="http://4.bp.blogspot.com/-udd6vl35KUI/UpMcWcNQx2I/AAAAAAAAH4M/n_lzdEcbUVs/s400/Below+Landcape+Arch,+Arches.jpg" width="400" /></a></td></tr>
<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">Fenced in Trail below Landscape Arch</td></tr>
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How come that this most enticing bow of them all has been put completely off limits? There are ecological and safety reasons for it. There is a lot of sandy soil in the area; if left in peace, it is gradually gaining a fragile cover of vegetation, consisting of a very rare cohabitation of fungus, algae and lichen, found nowhere else in the world. Trampling the soil with your feet is destroying it for a hundred years. So better leave it alone!<br />
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The safety reason is less subtle: In 1991, a slab of rock the size of a large bus was falling of the Arch with a tremendous tremble and noise. The few lucky enough to see it reported that they feared the whole structure to come down. No one was hiking below or on the spider-thin bow just then, so no deadly accidents to report here, I am afraid. But it woke up the authorities and, ever since, access to the Arch is strictly forbidden. Will the Arch last throughout my lifetime? I doubt it. It really looks dangerously slim to me now; don't you agree?<br />
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<table align="center" cellpadding="0" cellspacing="0" class="tr-caption-container" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto; text-align: center;"><tbody>
<tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="http://3.bp.blogspot.com/-Ga_R1dEEoSs/UpMeg0HPs6I/AAAAAAAAH4Y/N6nOUBoHJTc/s1600/Landscape+Arch,+Arches.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" height="266" src="http://3.bp.blogspot.com/-Ga_R1dEEoSs/UpMeg0HPs6I/AAAAAAAAH4Y/N6nOUBoHJTc/s400/Landscape+Arch,+Arches.jpg" width="400" /></a></td></tr>
<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">Landscape Arch, Arches. The slimmest of the slim, but also the longest in the world</td></tr>
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But we have still some challenges ahead of us, even if of smaller magnitude! When leaving the Arch, you start treading on uncharted terrain, so to speak. The National Park authorities characterize the continuing hike as "primitive trail"; in fact, there is no trail to speak of at all, just a few small stones lumped together here and there to show you where you are supposed to take a new direction.<br />
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The trail starts with a steep incline, where you have to climb one of the many Fins adorning the environment here. They are not as fine limbed as the ones you see in the title picture, more like whales with broad shoulders, but with VERY STEEP SIDES to climb and descend, which makes some awkward going forward now and then. The picture shows this first ascent. Fortunately it will dissuade any disabled old geezer to dare continue, even if I myself did not show any hesitance at that moment. The climb does not look very arduous from above, where I was standing, but the upward slope is actually rather pronounced. In the far back, you can see once again the "narrows" that started the whole exercise.<br />
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<tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="http://4.bp.blogspot.com/-taQ5dkXP2LY/UpMjkek12VI/AAAAAAAAH4w/yihp9r9pjSI/s1600/Steep+Incline+on+Double+O+Arch+Trail,+Arches_1.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" height="640" src="http://4.bp.blogspot.com/-taQ5dkXP2LY/UpMjkek12VI/AAAAAAAAH4w/yihp9r9pjSI/s640/Steep+Incline+on+Double+O+Arch+Trail,+Arches_1.jpg" width="408" /></a></td></tr>
<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">Arduous start of the "Primitive Trail"</td></tr>
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After this first heart beater you arrive at a plateau where the view is wide and the "whale fins" spaciously laid out. The trail (as far as you can discern it) meanders its way alongside the fins and sometimes crosses over them. I have said it already, but let me re-emphasize that their flanks looked easy enough to access, seen from a distance, but arduous enough once you got close and had to do the real climbing or descending. Still, there were huge rewards awaiting you, once on top. The view was exhilarating from up there. I think the picture here exemplifies both the exhilarating views and the troubles of getting up or down the fins.<br />
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<tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="http://3.bp.blogspot.com/-l6IM9Gx6LTk/UpMlQWYybtI/AAAAAAAAH48/HYJ7Ozf_Cgk/s1600/Navigating+the+Fins,+Arches.+Tavaputs+Pleateau+on+Horizon.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" height="317" src="http://3.bp.blogspot.com/-l6IM9Gx6LTk/UpMlQWYybtI/AAAAAAAAH48/HYJ7Ozf_Cgk/s400/Navigating+the+Fins,+Arches.+Tavaputs+Pleateau+on+Horizon.jpg" width="400" /></a></td></tr>
<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">On top of a "whale fin". Tavaputs Plateau on the horizon</td></tr>
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I chose this picture deliberately, among many fine ones taken on the fins, since it shows where Arches National Park (as well as the Paradox Basin) reaches its end towards the North. Let your eyes, after lingering on and admiring the multitude of red colored fins, sweep like an eagle towards the far horizon. There reign the ponderous cliffs of a plateau which is already known to you. Naught else but the high plateau of the Tavaputs do we rediscover here, known to us since the post <a href="http://emilems.blogspot.se/2013/11/devils-due.html">Devil's Due</a>.<br />
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I have to admit that I fell in love with the fins and the marvelous views they had to offer. Luckily, a fellow traveller was kind enough to take my picture, when I was standing on my absolute favorite, with red cumuli all around me and the La Sal mountains glistening in the background against an azure sky.<br />
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<table align="center" cellpadding="0" cellspacing="0" class="tr-caption-container" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto; text-align: center;"><tbody>
<tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="http://1.bp.blogspot.com/-y9XPt25m9z8/UpMscF9aKpI/AAAAAAAAH5M/bQlCKwqsM8Q/s1600/Emil+Ems+on+Entrada+Sandstone+Fin,+Arches.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" height="400" src="http://1.bp.blogspot.com/-y9XPt25m9z8/UpMscF9aKpI/AAAAAAAAH5M/bQlCKwqsM8Q/s400/Emil+Ems+on+Entrada+Sandstone+Fin,+Arches.jpg" width="400" /></a></td></tr>
<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">Emil Ems on Sandstone Fin in Devil's Garden, Arches. La Sal mountains in background</td></tr>
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I had to almost tear myself away from climbing up and down those "whales". It was getting afternoon and time to come to the final goal of the hike, the Double O Arch. This is a funny name and you only get to grips with it when you have seen the object in question. It is a wondrous construct of red stone, fashioned a bit like an antique Greek "Lyra", at least if seen from the backside. It looks not quite as imposing when you approach it on the trail. You simply stand to close to it to appreciate it in its all embracing stature. Here is a picture of it, with the Group of Eight just arriving at the right spot.<br />
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<tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="http://1.bp.blogspot.com/-9vRx0ygusm0/UpMveevMAtI/AAAAAAAAH5Y/VE4jmWg5BzQ/s1600/Approaching+Double+O+Arch.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" height="297" src="http://1.bp.blogspot.com/-9vRx0ygusm0/UpMveevMAtI/AAAAAAAAH5Y/VE4jmWg5BzQ/s400/Approaching+Double+O+Arch.jpg" width="400" /></a></td></tr>
<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">Approaching Double O Arch, Arches <i>Courtesy Lars Ljungberg</i> </td></tr>
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You say that I am in the picture, laboring after my hiking companions? You are perfectly right! I did this hike TWICE, once within the Group of Eight, but without camera, and once alone with the camera. Lars Ljungberg from the group was so kind as to lend me one of his pictures from the first hike, which I find marvelous.<br />
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Now to the somewhat embarrassing part of the story. It is difficult to see on the picture, but underneath the lower "O" of the Arch is a vertical ledge, almost two meters high, which you have to climb in order to pass over to the Arch's other side; only there will you enjoy its magnificent fullness.<br />
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I did not bother to climb that ledge on the first hike; what is the use of a magnificent vista, if you cannot catch it on film? But I forgot my limitations as climber! On the second hike, when I went alone, I simply could not find ways and means of climbing that damn ledge. It proved simply too much for me! I waited under it for at least half an hour, hoping for a strong youngster to come along and give me a shove. But nobody came! At long last, I was forced to admit defeat and take the long hike back. To show you what I have missed, National Park Services have come to rescue. They have a huge stock of pictures from their parks on Internet, all of them excellent, and I am really grateful to be able to show this one:<br />
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<table align="center" cellpadding="0" cellspacing="0" class="tr-caption-container" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto; text-align: center;"><tbody>
<tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="http://2.bp.blogspot.com/-t8e-0idT4iQ/UpMy_iRY0BI/AAAAAAAAH5k/Ohwx_y5d_XY/s1600/Double+O+Arch,+Arches.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" height="266" src="http://2.bp.blogspot.com/-t8e-0idT4iQ/UpMy_iRY0BI/AAAAAAAAH5k/Ohwx_y5d_XY/s400/Double+O+Arch,+Arches.jpg" width="400" /></a></td></tr>
<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">Double O Arch, Arches <i>Courtesy <a href="http://www.nps.gov/arch/photosmultimedia/photogallery.htm">National Park Services</a></i></td></tr>
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What else is there to tell from this exhilarating hike? Well, there were many nice views again on the way back, especially since it was getting on in the afternoon and "light was getting right" for a true photographer. But let's make a long story short and just illustrate this with a last picture from Devil's Garden. We are back on the broad and well prepared path that started at Landscape Arch and will soon arrive back at the Trail Head.<br />
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<table align="center" cellpadding="0" cellspacing="0" class="tr-caption-container" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto; text-align: center;"><tbody>
<tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="http://3.bp.blogspot.com/-qcUVax5U5qM/UpM0xyeXpHI/AAAAAAAAH5s/JqdhF2_7iQg/s1600/Path+back+to+Devil's+Garden+Arches.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" height="266" src="http://3.bp.blogspot.com/-qcUVax5U5qM/UpM0xyeXpHI/AAAAAAAAH5s/JqdhF2_7iQg/s400/Path+back+to+Devil's+Garden+Arches.jpg" width="400" /></a></td></tr>
<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">Devil's Garden, Arches. Path back to Trailhead</td></tr>
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You can imagine that I was a bit tired when I regained the rented car at the Parking Lot. Still, this did not prevent me from stopping the car many a time on the trip back through the Park. The sun was slanting towards the horizon at a leisurely rate, permitting me to take in many more vistas of this marvelous plateau, created by salt. So let's end this post not with words, but with pictures, saying "Goodbye!", through them, to a place of sheer beauty that I won't see again in my lifetime!<br />
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<tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="http://3.bp.blogspot.com/-RAT0MP5a9oo/UpM24zokZOI/AAAAAAAAH6A/cL4XZrSJhpY/s1600/Courthouse+Wash+Evening+Panorama,+Arches.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" height="180" src="http://3.bp.blogspot.com/-RAT0MP5a9oo/UpM24zokZOI/AAAAAAAAH6A/cL4XZrSJhpY/s400/Courthouse+Wash+Evening+Panorama,+Arches.jpg" width="400" /></a></td></tr>
<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">Cotton Wood on Courthouse Wash in late afternoon, Arches</td></tr>
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<tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="http://4.bp.blogspot.com/-YxKvpVsdP5w/UpM27ovvcwI/AAAAAAAAH6I/7v74dwFL6bk/s1600/The+Organ,+Arches.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" height="278" src="http://4.bp.blogspot.com/-YxKvpVsdP5w/UpM27ovvcwI/AAAAAAAAH6I/7v74dwFL6bk/s400/The+Organ,+Arches.jpg" width="400" /></a></td></tr>
<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">The Organ, Arches</td></tr>
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<tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="http://3.bp.blogspot.com/-UQq39WYFXUA/UpM21h97WwI/AAAAAAAAH54/WYVtL23HOts/s1600/Courthouse+Towers,+Arches.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" height="266" src="http://3.bp.blogspot.com/-UQq39WYFXUA/UpM21h97WwI/AAAAAAAAH54/WYVtL23HOts/s400/Courthouse+Towers,+Arches.jpg" width="400" /></a></td></tr>
<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">The Courthouse Towers, Arches</td></tr>
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Emil Emshttp://www.blogger.com/profile/07815643585218883358noreply@blogger.com3Moab, UT 84532, USA38.5733155 -109.5498395000000238.52366 -109.63052050000002 38.622971 -109.46915850000002tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-2242228370300474063.post-89116001869394180762013-11-22T07:53:00.000+01:002013-11-22T15:00:55.019+01:00GOD'S DELICATE FINGERS<div dir="ltr" style="text-align: left;" trbidi="on">
<table cellpadding="0" cellspacing="0" class="tr-caption-container" style="float: left; margin-right: 1em; text-align: left;"><tbody>
<tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="http://1.bp.blogspot.com/-dy6UKUkqAKU/UoyDfCEW4KI/AAAAAAAAHyo/Cf6BmzX9Pv4/s1600/80+God's+Fingers+in+Arches+Display.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="clear: left; margin-bottom: 1em; margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" height="277" src="http://1.bp.blogspot.com/-dy6UKUkqAKU/UoyDfCEW4KI/AAAAAAAAHyo/Cf6BmzX9Pv4/s400/80+God's+Fingers+in+Arches+Display.jpg" width="400" /></a></td></tr>
<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">A Divine Vision?</td></tr>
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In early August 1980, my wife Alice and I were driving across wide sagebrush plains and river canyons from <a href="http://emilems.blogspot.se/2013/11/grandiose-staircase.html">Bryce Canyon</a> Eastward all the way to the Colorado River valley.<br />
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Towards late afternoon, a thunderstorm was developing over the plains and lasted until our arrival in Moab (the gateway to Arches National Park). Since it was raining heavily, we decided to take in at a motel in down (the <a href="http://www.apachemotelinmoab.com/why.html">Apache Motel</a>), instead of camping in the Park, as originally foreseen.<br />
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We were both tired from the long trip along curvy and sometimes unpaved side roads. Still, the rain abated towards evening and I got my spirits back soon enough. So, on the spur of the moment, I jumped into the car and rushed over to Arches National Park, my wife being quite content with resting on her bed. How lucky I was to have taken this decision. I was all alone on the Park's high ranges. Clouds were still hanging heavily over the red wonders of that park, but here and there the sun broke through and painted the rocks like a spotlight.<br />
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Suddenly, I just HAD to put on the breaks and hasten out of the car. It was like a vision had materialized before my eyes. "This surely must be God's fingers, showing me the way to Promised Land!", I almost convinced myself. But after a quick "Clicketyclick" by the camera I was sobering up soon enough and regaining my agnostic view of the world.<br />
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<table align="center" cellpadding="0" cellspacing="0" class="tr-caption-container" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto; text-align: center;"><tbody>
<tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="http://1.bp.blogspot.com/-6ktrPATWtlg/UoyH1F7_h1I/AAAAAAAAHy0/h1vBnz0tIkM/s1600/DSC_0225+Duplet+Display.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" height="237" src="http://1.bp.blogspot.com/-6ktrPATWtlg/UoyH1F7_h1I/AAAAAAAAHy0/h1vBnz0tIkM/s400/DSC_0225+Duplet+Display.jpg" width="400" /></a></td></tr>
<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">Arches view in 2013</td></tr>
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Still, this experience, and the picture I had taken at that moment and cherished since then, kept my interest in the Four-courner region alive through all these years, and greatly contributed to my decision to dare fate and undertake the present trip to Utah despite my advanced age.<br />
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Between us "connoisseurs" of the slick rock country, <a href="http://en.wikipedia.org/wiki/Arches_National_Park">Arches National Park</a> is commonly held to be the most beautiful to behold, with a manifold of interesting and intriguing stone formations. I would not like to spoil this post with geologic explanations. Let's leave those to the chapter that will follow soon enough. Why not focus today on the iconic wonders of that red wonderland. After all, nature has worked hard at creating them, over the eons, by letting the land rise and thereafter being eroded by the joint forces of wind, ice and water.<br />
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Even if you were to spend a year in the park, rambling all over the place, you would never cease to discover new formations to tickle your aesthetic senses. But space is limited even here on internet, so let's just get to a few examples: Balanced Rock; The Window Section with Double Arch; Delicate Arch; and Devil's Playground (with Landscape and Double-O Arch). We will look at them in the order in which they were visited by me, driving a rented car, whilst the rest of the Group of Eight were enjoying a challenging river boating trip).<br />
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<tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="http://2.bp.blogspot.com/-4kgeUVqgepo/UoySJat8voI/AAAAAAAAHzE/ZT__8XmnVrM/s1600/Park+Avenue+Display.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" height="215" src="http://2.bp.blogspot.com/-4kgeUVqgepo/UoySJat8voI/AAAAAAAAHzE/ZT__8XmnVrM/s400/Park+Avenue+Display.jpg" width="400" /></a></td></tr>
<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">"Park Avenue", Arches <i>Courtesy <a href="http://www.nps.gov/arch/photosmultimedia/photogallery.htm">National Park Service</a></i></td></tr>
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The entrance to <a href="http://en.wikipedia.org/wiki/Arches_National_Park">Arches National Park</a> is just five minutes' drive away from the town of Moab. Once inside, you take a winding road upwards a steep rampart of fiery red stone until you arrive at a high plateau with views as wide as the eye can focus. You feel transported to a different planet, profusely red as if given light by a dying sun. Driving there feels like journeying on the Mars of our imagination, back when we were reading with eager young eyes about adventures of superhuman heroes on that reddest of planets, composed by our most creative writers.<br />
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But let's not get carried away. We are still on Earth, even if on one of its places of utmost and outer-worldly beauty. This high plateau is delightful to behold for us tourists sweeping along on paved roads, but we should not forget that it is mostly a barren desert, with only scant access to water. Granted there are a few washes that save water from sparse raining and provide sustenance for lovely cottonwood; but overall, this is sagebrush country, which leaves the beautiful colors of earth and stone uncovered and observable to our admiring eyes.<br />
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<tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="http://1.bp.blogspot.com/-HqK4jD05S50/UoyVxggRBvI/AAAAAAAAHzc/LPkMJxKx2EU/s1600/Courthouse+Wash+Arches_1.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" height="190" src="http://1.bp.blogspot.com/-HqK4jD05S50/UoyVxggRBvI/AAAAAAAAHzc/LPkMJxKx2EU/s400/Courthouse+Wash+Arches_1.jpg" width="400" /></a></td></tr>
<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">Cottonwoods at Courthouse Wash, Arches</td></tr>
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Now on to our iconic views: the first you see – after driving along the road glanced in the above picture, and rounding that promontory in the far distance – is <a href="http://en.wikipedia.org/wiki/Balanced_Rock"><i>Balanced Rock</i></a>. This impressive Hoodoo is among the most photographed features of National Parks of all times. One reason being, of course, that it does not take many steps from the car to approach and circumvent it.<br />
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It is difficult for me to provide you with an original view of this balancing act, it has been portraited from all possible angles and at all possible seasons and hours of the day. But just to show you that I have been there and taken the short hike all around this monument, here are two pictures taken at opposite angles.<br />
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<tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="http://3.bp.blogspot.com/-EtP1-jEpEw8/Uoya7CqiNOI/AAAAAAAAHzs/HipLY2Ify4o/s1600/Two+versions+of+balanced+rock,+Arches.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" height="200" src="http://3.bp.blogspot.com/-EtP1-jEpEw8/Uoya7CqiNOI/AAAAAAAAHzs/HipLY2Ify4o/s400/Two+versions+of+balanced+rock,+Arches.jpg" width="400" /></a></td></tr>
<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">Balanced Rock, Arches</td></tr>
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How to judge the scale of this monument, lacking some human sized objects to compare with? We should not under-estimate the rock's stature. Its boulder, balancing on top of the column, is of the size of THREE SCHOOLBUSES. The whole structure looks considerably more portly nowadays than it did back in 1980. Apparently, the top is gradually grinding down its support, without toppling over however. Nature's most balanced road towards entropy, if there ever was one!<br />
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To illustrate how difficult it is to maintain that balance, there was a much smaller balancing rock standing just aside the big one, but that one toppled down in 1976, despite the fact that it didn't weigh more than maybe a tenth of the larger. It was called "Chip of the Old Block"; to our regret, we never had a chance to admire it.<br />
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Now on to the next wonder view in Arches, the <i><a href="http://en.wikipedia.org/wiki/Double_Arch">Double Arch</a></i>. This most impressive of all stone structures in the Park lies in a section called Windows. Actually, there are at least five arches in that part of the Park, along with other interesting structures, but no need for arches overload in this short post. Let's just stay with this the most imposing one. The more so since it figured in a famous movie with Harrison Ford (in a scene where his younger self is played by River Phoenix), called Indiana Jones: The Last Cruisade. There is a small video showing young River on site, but it is not very spectacular. But if you are curious, why not have a go at the <a href="https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=7f7fZrQzgQc">video</a>, scrolling 32 seconds into the action?<br />
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<tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="http://4.bp.blogspot.com/-kbIBZbTghAY/Uo3iCpnRjqI/AAAAAAAAHz8/68rs7KciMso/s1600/Double+Arch+Arches.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" height="400" src="http://4.bp.blogspot.com/-kbIBZbTghAY/Uo3iCpnRjqI/AAAAAAAAHz8/68rs7KciMso/s400/Double+Arch+Arches.jpg" width="400" /></a></td></tr>
<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">Double Arch, Arches</td></tr>
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You can reach this arch by taking just a few steps from the car, but it is impressive enough even from there. For the more enterprising of us (me too, 33 years ago), there is always the possibility of climbing up and through the structure, a far more advanced hike. You are not impressed by the size of this cathedral-sized monument from the above picture? Not to worry, I risked my life climbing up there halfways, in order to clarify to you its impressiveness;-)<br />
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<tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="http://2.bp.blogspot.com/-XGVt-X6rCw8/Uo3ivYq9jyI/AAAAAAAAH0E/ZV5PaU_LMWM/s1600/Double+Arch+detail+Arches.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" height="640" src="http://2.bp.blogspot.com/-XGVt-X6rCw8/Uo3ivYq9jyI/AAAAAAAAH0E/ZV5PaU_LMWM/s640/Double+Arch+detail+Arches.jpg" width="342" /></a></td></tr>
<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">Double Arch, Upper Bows, Arches</td></tr>
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So there: impressive enough, isn't it? It does not quite reach the height of the Cathedral Dome in Florence, but still comes close to 2/3 of that Dome's rise above the Cathedral.<br />
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But size is not all, any aestheticist can tell you that. Furthermore, the Park is giving you the choice between impressive and delicate/beautiful. This leads us to the last monument to investigate in this post, the <i>Delicate Arch</i>.<br />
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This beautifully crafted act of nature is not as easily accessible as the earlier monuments, but this is to its advantage. The more effort you have to spend to experience beauty, the more you appreciate it of course. In the present age of Internet, we are only too spoiled by having effortless access to pictures of all places on Earth with a click of our pinkie. But a picture on the screen is nothing compared to the real thing, especially if you have to take an arduous hike to experience it.<br />
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The path towards Delicate Arch is starting out pleasantly enough. You pass by an ancient cottage, more than 110 years old, which gives you a good impression of life as small farmer in the Southwest in those days. It was built by <a href="http://www.nps.gov/arch/historyculture/wolfe-ranch.htm">John Wolfe</a>, a civil war veteran who moved out here in 1898, at age 69 – almost my age, imagine! – and established his ranch in those barren fields.<br />
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<table align="center" cellpadding="0" cellspacing="0" class="tr-caption-container" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto; text-align: center;"><tbody>
<tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="http://4.bp.blogspot.com/-xErdo7dH5TE/Uo4GMdkORrI/AAAAAAAAH0U/6GeU-CHbQIM/s1600/Turnbowe+Cabin+Arches.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" height="273" src="http://4.bp.blogspot.com/-xErdo7dH5TE/Uo4GMdkORrI/AAAAAAAAH0U/6GeU-CHbQIM/s400/Turnbowe+Cabin+Arches.jpg" width="400" /></a></td></tr>
<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">Wolfe Cabin, Arches</td></tr>
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The cottage was built out of cottonwood logs, that he had to move here from Cottonwood Wash no doubt (se earlier picture), which lies at a distance of about 10 kilometers from his ranch. Where did the water necessary for him and his cattle come from? Actually, there is a wash just five minutes from the cottage – called Salt Wash, I believe –, but it did not seem to have drinkable water in it when I took the picture below. But maybe he had a barrel that he filled from the wash immediately, whenever it rained, to have clean drinking water for himself and his family. Furthermore, he had built a primitive earth dam across the wash, which certainly kept more water in there than I saw. The dam is long gone, of course.<br />
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<tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="http://4.bp.blogspot.com/-qRgsFOywS4Y/Uo4HNvywj8I/AAAAAAAAH0g/Kdwp5duEaQM/s1600/Turnbowe+Wash+Arches.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" height="300" src="http://4.bp.blogspot.com/-qRgsFOywS4Y/Uo4HNvywj8I/AAAAAAAAH0g/Kdwp5duEaQM/s400/Turnbowe+Wash+Arches.jpg" width="400" /></a></td></tr>
<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;"><div style="text-align: center;">
<span style="text-align: left;">Salt Wash behind Wolfe Cottage, Arches</span></div>
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After this brief interlude, it iwas mainly a question of laborious trudging uphill, for an hour or so, depending on your stamina. You first have to climb a steep cliff on a serpentine path, but this path is well maintained. Thereafter, you soon come to a large slate of pure slick rock, slanting rashly uphill, and taking your breath away for a kilometer or so. You can see the beginning of this large slate in the far distance on the picture here.<br />
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<tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="http://1.bp.blogspot.com/-MrAz6r0ytMM/Uo4JUz8_yHI/AAAAAAAAH0s/lhi34zCmJBU/s1600/Path+to+Delicate+Arch+Arches.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" height="400" src="http://1.bp.blogspot.com/-MrAz6r0ytMM/Uo4JUz8_yHI/AAAAAAAAH0s/lhi34zCmJBU/s400/Path+to+Delicate+Arch+Arches.jpg" width="380" /></a></td></tr>
<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">The laborious path to Delicate Arch, Arches</td></tr>
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You don't think that this looks very arduous? Well, if you take a picture with your camera slanting upwards, the slope appears mightily diminished. Let's give it another try to show you what you are climbing there: pure slick rock angling sharply upwards and doing this at great length. <br />
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<tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="http://4.bp.blogspot.com/-vwUARXGwgz0/Uo4Of-LScFI/AAAAAAAAH08/dMeIZRqrOyM/s1600/Cliff+on+Path+to+Delicate+Arch+Arches.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" height="640" src="http://4.bp.blogspot.com/-vwUARXGwgz0/Uo4Of-LScFI/AAAAAAAAH08/dMeIZRqrOyM/s640/Cliff+on+Path+to+Delicate+Arch+Arches.jpg" width="403" /></a></td></tr>
<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">Entrada Sandstone slick rock on the path to Delicate Arch, Arches</td></tr>
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You may be surprised by the number of people who marched alongside myself on that path. But you would be even more surprised, had you seen the marked number of grey haired veterans, older than even myself, some of them almost creeping uphill on crutches, all striving to reach the ultimate in aesthetics. For many of them, this uphill struggle must have likened a pilgrimage to a holy place, so intent were they to keep going, whatever the price in sweat, tears, torn limbs or heart ache. Was it worth it, you may ask? Well, let me continue the story and you will soon get the answer.<br />
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After this steep incline, it is only a question of navigating a narrow path of some 100 meters, hoed into a cliff with an almost vertical facade. Now we come to the interesting part of our story. Back in 1980, I had of course no difficulties in ascending this path. Clad in sandals, I was almost running uphill, having left my wife Alice in the camping ground, since she did not feel like hiking that day. Once arrived at the narrow path hoed into the cliff, I started to relax, feeling that the goal was close.<br />
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As an aside, you can see me, in the picture below, laboring behind my colleagues from the Group of Eight on that same path three weeks ago. But didn't I say before that I was in Arches on my own, with a rented car? Sure enough, but I took this hike TWICE, once within the Group of Eight, but without a camera, and, the day after, on my own, and WITH the camera.<br />
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But back to 1980: As I was ambling along that path, just some 10 meters back of where the picture above puts me, I suddenly seemed to notice a bit of sky and the odd ray of light shining through the cliff above me. Still young and curious then, I felt the urge to investigate. But how to get up to that opening in the cliff, however small it might be?<br />
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<tr><td><a href="http://3.bp.blogspot.com/-yJe8FFBZzcQ/Uo4X9IZciCI/AAAAAAAAH1M/1Fjp0FvZCZ8/s1600/Cliff+close+to+Delicat+Arch+Arches.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" height="300" src="http://3.bp.blogspot.com/-yJe8FFBZzcQ/Uo4X9IZciCI/AAAAAAAAH1M/1Fjp0FvZCZ8/s400/Cliff+close+to+Delicat+Arch+Arches.jpg" width="400" /></a></td></tr>
<tr><td class="tr-caption"><span style="font-size: xx-small;">Delicate Arch ahead, just around the corner <i>Courtesy Gert-Inge Persson</i> </span></td></tr>
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Fortunately, at that section of the path, the wall had a mild backward slant, starting about 1.5 meters above the path, and it seemed plausible that I could climb up from there. But how to get up the first vertical section? Well – remember that I had sandals at my feet then – I went backwards as many steps as the path permitted and, starting from there, RAN UP this vertical section with schwung, just barely getting hold of the stones above it. From then on, it was quite easy to continue the climb.<br />
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And what did I see up there? A huge window in the wall, with the most wondrous vista of the valley beyond. At the far distance, huge mountains beckoned in light blue, dominating the horizon. In the medium distance, a large cliff divided up the plain into two great scenes, as made for performing an imposing theater play. And, now comes the clue, to the very left of the foreground scene an object of sheer beauty was grasping my attention. A bow of glowing red – as if Hepahistos himself had forged it as a wedding ring for Aphrodite, his betrothed – was standing, delicately poised, on an amphitheater formed of bold orange sandstone.<br />
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With this glorious memory still lodging firmly in my brain, I felt the strong urge to get up there again this year, as soon as passing by the very same spot on the path. But, to my great regret and however I tried, it appeared simply impossible to heave myself up over the first vertical section. This is what it means to get old; your options dwindle as you approach the inevitable end.<br />
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Should I give up? Not so fast! Along came a youngster, much bigger and muscular than myself, even in younger years, and I hastened to ask him to give me a heave. And heave he did, almost throwing me up the cliff, with my 90 kilos and all! Thanks to him I was able to freshen up a dear memory and, furthermore, document this fabulous scene with all the verve that modern equipment can provide.<br />
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<table align="center" cellpadding="0" cellspacing="0" class="tr-caption-container" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto; text-align: center;"><tbody>
<tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="http://4.bp.blogspot.com/-Ty6f12MSbY8/Uo4hZ93n5zI/AAAAAAAAH1c/LXkYDv4k8eQ/s1600/New+Delicate+Arch+Window+Arches.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" height="386" src="http://4.bp.blogspot.com/-Ty6f12MSbY8/Uo4hZ93n5zI/AAAAAAAAH1c/LXkYDv4k8eQ/s400/New+Delicate+Arch+Window+Arches.jpg" width="400" /></a></td></tr>
<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">Delicate Arch seen through window in 2013, Arches</td></tr>
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Didn't I have the good sense of documenting the view from that window already back in 1980? Sure I did and I had good reason to do so. For back in those days I had never read or heard about this special view before. And neither did I see it mentioned in any publications that I studied afterwards. I may well have been among the first Park visitors ever having climbed up there and seen this marvelous scenery. I felt like a mighty explorer, when documenting this view for posterity! Here is the picture I took in 1980:<br />
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<tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="http://3.bp.blogspot.com/-LxYD407GLWg/Uo4jZMR6qnI/AAAAAAAAH1o/PbgGImJjgsU/s1600/1980+Delicate+Arch+window+Arches.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" height="296" src="http://3.bp.blogspot.com/-LxYD407GLWg/Uo4jZMR6qnI/AAAAAAAAH1o/PbgGImJjgsU/s400/1980+Delicate+Arch+window+Arches.jpg" width="400" /></a></td></tr>
<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">Delicate Arch seen through window in 1980, Arches</td></tr>
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Of course this is a well known – and photographed – view of Delicate Arch nowadays. There is no way this type of view could have remained undiscovered in our times of Internet, where people are eager to share their experiences with pictures. As soon as one person has put a picture into the Cloud, thousands will follow.<br />
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Should I show you a close-up version of the Delicate Arch, to really emphasize it in all its glory? I would feel uncomfortable doing so; for each picture I have taken, I can easily recall at least ten others, taken from the same position and time of day by far greater photographers, which outperform my own humble efforts. What I will do, instead, is show you the first picture ever made of this Arch. It was taken by the daughter of John Wolfe, of all persons. She had moved to her father's farm in 1906 and he spared no effort to make her feel comfortable in the desert, including buying her a camera to document it all; imagine!<br />
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<tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="http://4.bp.blogspot.com/-wj8rgm3J9VI/Uo4tHBbCgoI/AAAAAAAAH2M/1BmEXTTdml4/s1600/First+picture+of+Delicate+Arch+(1907)_2.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" height="640" src="http://4.bp.blogspot.com/-wj8rgm3J9VI/Uo4tHBbCgoI/AAAAAAAAH2M/1BmEXTTdml4/s640/First+picture+of+Delicate+Arch+(1907)_2.jpg" width="408" /></a></td></tr>
<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">First picture of Delicate Arch, taken in 1907 <i>Photographer: <a href="http://www.nps.gov/arch/planyourvisit/upload/WolfeRanchTrailGuide.pdf">Flora Stanley</a></i></td></tr>
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You may notice that, already in those days, people longed to have their picture taken standing close to, or even under the Arch. We may presume that the two persons here are Flora Stanley's husband and brother. I don't believe her father would, at the age of 78, have bothered to take the walk up to Delicate Arch just to be portrayed under it.<br />
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Interestingly enough, when I was hiking up there in early August 1980, I did not meet or see a soul. I was all alone in this enticing landscape. If you look closely at the two views from the window, you will discover plenty of people in the Arch's vicinity in the 2013 picture. In the 1980 version, there are none! And neither were there many in the Park at large in those days! And most of those never ventured far from their cars. It appears, that people have discovered America's national parks since then and started to love them with abandon!<br />
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Let me just emphasize this point by taking a closer look at the Arch after all. When I took this picture, I was in good company. I could count more than a hundred people lingering around that arc, about half of them standing in line to have their picture taken standing smash under it.<br />
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<tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="http://2.bp.blogspot.com/-_7wElZj2T0c/Uo4v8CC-3II/AAAAAAAAH2Y/fHsZZV7HmUI/s1600/Delicate+Arch+with+visitors+Arches.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" height="640" src="http://2.bp.blogspot.com/-_7wElZj2T0c/Uo4v8CC-3II/AAAAAAAAH2Y/fHsZZV7HmUI/s640/Delicate+Arch+with+visitors+Arches.jpg" width="408" /></a></td></tr>
<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">Picture taking session under Delicate Arch, Arches</td></tr>
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But I shouldn't complain. Am I not myself one of those eager beavers, going wherever I am still able to go, and taking pictures of the icons of our day? Thinking those thoughts, whilst ambling around in that mellow amphitheater, I was, to my great surprise, constantly addressed by small groups of young and enticing girls, that absolutely wanted me to stand in their midst whilst they had their picture taken. This was kind of puzzling, since I really cannot see myself as very attractive to the youngest of the fairer sex. But maybe there is some superior wisdom residing in those fresh brains. Does not every object of beauty need a counterpoint, to emphasize its merits? Seen in that way, I probably did a lot of emphasizing that day, to the pleasure of many youngsters, as well as to mine.<br />
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With this encouraging thought, I think we should call it a day and deal with remaining Arches issues in the following blog post.<br />
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Emil Emshttp://www.blogger.com/profile/07815643585218883358noreply@blogger.com3Arches National Park, N Highway 191, Moab, UT 84532, USA38.733081 -109.5925138999999738.3366705 -110.23796089999998 39.1294915 -108.94706689999997tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-2242228370300474063.post-44460720215890812782013-11-16T18:22:00.001+01:002013-11-16T18:22:50.089+01:00DEVIL'S DUE?<div dir="ltr" style="text-align: left;" trbidi="on">
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<tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="http://4.bp.blogspot.com/-U8YyUGFL5Cc/UoY22N_crqI/AAAAAAAAHvk/WHU9xnQ33tk/s1600/Bathing+in+Diamond+Fork+Hot+Springs.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" height="266" src="http://4.bp.blogspot.com/-U8YyUGFL5Cc/UoY22N_crqI/AAAAAAAAHvk/WHU9xnQ33tk/s400/Bathing+in+Diamond+Fork+Hot+Springs.jpg" width="400" /></a></td></tr>
<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">Soaking in Diamond Fork Hot Springs</td></tr>
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<span id="goog_971093242"></span><span id="goog_971093243"></span>Our Group of Eight had walked already for one hour and a half when, suddenly, a sharp smell of sulphur permeated the air above the creek we were exploring. Was this a sudden warning from the underworld, telling us that "Hin Håle" was on his way, trying to inveigle us into sinning? We would soon find out. Around the next bend of the path, a serious of small water basins, colored in various shades of azure and green, welcomed us, and it was as if a voice whispered to us: forget about the travails of this world, isn't it time for you to start enjoying yourself?<br />
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It was easy to let us be seduced by this inner voice. Soon all of us, but me – I had to take the picture, did I not? –, succumbed to the temptation to soak their tired feet in water alternately hot or warm, depending on the exact position of their soaking.<br />
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Just three hours before, we had left our hotel in Ogden and started the car trip South to reach our hunting grounds for the next couple of days around Moab. Our guide Ingemar found it opportune to take a nice mid-day break, so that the voyage would not be felt too long. After all, we would be spending more than five hours on the trip.<br />
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As many other places in the US, the mountain region around and south of Salt Lake City is still not quite settled, geologically speaking. Even if volcanoes are long gone and only strata of old lava can be observed here and there, the movement of the tectonic plates has left faults, fractions and fissures, where the magma sphere from deep down can influence the upper strata.<br />
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<table align="center" cellpadding="0" cellspacing="0" class="tr-caption-container" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto; text-align: center;"><tbody>
<tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="http://1.bp.blogspot.com/-d7klkerRjDo/UodD3YXeQFI/AAAAAAAAHwE/6MfValdiZXQ/s1600/Wasatch+Fault.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" height="640" src="http://1.bp.blogspot.com/-d7klkerRjDo/UodD3YXeQFI/AAAAAAAAHwE/6MfValdiZXQ/s640/Wasatch+Fault.jpg" width="396" /></a></td></tr>
<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">The Wasatch Fault <i>Source: </i></td></tr>
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The Wasatch Mountain Range, along which most of Utah's inhabitants are living, is still very active in this regard. Along the whole range, especially below Salt Lake City, there is a deep fault, called Wasatch Fault, with an earthquake risk at par with that of the San Andreas Fault of the East Bay. This means that a quake of size 7 or larger is expected to occur every 300 years, and should occur according to this assessment any time now. We are talking here about a quake of a size that destroyed San Francisco way back in 1908! And the latter affected a town built on solid rock, whereas Salt Lake City is placed on a quivering former lake bottom, which will greatly reinforce any vibrations caused by a quake. Imagine!<br />
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Of course, hot springs, having their origin in a spiderweb of minor cracks and fissures of the Earthen crust, are essentially harmless and pleasurable. They occur here mostly in a region, called Uintah, with a mountain range extending perpendicularly to the East from the Wasatch Range at about the latitude of the town Provo. There, water is percolating down the cracks and fissures, meeting rising magma halfway down in the Earth crust. Mightily heated by the meeting, the water, enriched by minerals, rushes up back to the surface and appears as a series of hot springs adorning the region.<br />
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<tr><td><a href="http://4.bp.blogspot.com/-yb23CK8piRo/UoZT91qwEsI/AAAAAAAAHv0/E4GTtgIgJrg/s1600/Trailhead+to+Diamond+Fork+Hot+Springs.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" height="400" src="http://4.bp.blogspot.com/-yb23CK8piRo/UoZT91qwEsI/AAAAAAAAHv0/E4GTtgIgJrg/s400/Trailhead+to+Diamond+Fork+Hot+Springs.jpg" width="398" /></a></td></tr>
<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="font-size: 12.499999046325684px;">Boulder Conglomerate along former sea shore – Diamond Fork Hot Springs Trail Head</td></tr>
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A two hours' drive had brought us all the way down to South of Provo, where Utah State road 6 branches off from Interstate 15. Looking forward to a pleasurable hike, we we took a small byroad into the Uinta foothills, up Spanish Fork Canyon, until we arrived at a quiet parking lot indicating the trailhead for our hike.<br />
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Soon we were on our way, crossing a bridge where the Sixth Water Creek was joining the Fifth Water Creek (Don't they have any imagination for naming in Utah?). From then on it was just a question of climbing a ravine steadily uphill, with the Fifth gurgling contentedly below our feet.<br />
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<table align="center" cellpadding="0" cellspacing="0" class="tr-caption-container" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto; text-align: center;"><tbody>
<tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="http://4.bp.blogspot.com/-E_XfNylOJBI/UodGXhwVsfI/AAAAAAAAHwQ/j8bkVSPA-IU/s1600/Sixth+and+Fifth+Water+Creek+Junction.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" height="263" src="http://4.bp.blogspot.com/-E_XfNylOJBI/UodGXhwVsfI/AAAAAAAAHwQ/j8bkVSPA-IU/s400/Sixth+and+Fifth+Water+Creek+Junction.jpg" width="400" /></a></td></tr>
<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">Bridge at Fifth and Sixth Water Creek junction</td></tr>
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I have to admit to a certain anxiety whilst treading the path. Did I not see enormous boulders balancing precariously on the crevasses just above our heads? And did we not stumble over, or had to find a way around, substantial boulders that had already fallen and were blocking our path? If for no other reason, this warranted a rather hurried pace in our uphill progress.<br />
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Interestingly, those huge boulders did not consist of solid, contiguous stone. Rather, they looked like a collection of minor boulders, some of them as big as my head, cemented together as if a giant had formed meatballs with his paws out of stone junks, instead of junky pieces of meat. Unfortunately, I do not have a close-up to demonstrate this, but you can get the idea by looking at the earlier picture of the trail head, with what looks like a giant termite roost, in which the smaller boulders are also embedded and clearly visible.<br />
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How to explain such geologic abnormity? Well, the region must once, millions of years ago, have been a shoreline, on which stormy waves deposited boulder after boulder and, furthermore, hollowed out the cliffs forming the shore and loosening the boulders embedded therein. Eventually, sand and lime bonded, like concrete, those stones together and preserved the structures over year millions, for us to admire and puzzle out their provenance. This type of stone structure is called <a href="http://geology.about.com/od/more_sedrocks/ig/conglomerates/conglobosbeach.htm">Boulder Conglomerate</a> and it exists, in the Uinta Region, in a geologic stratum called North Horn Formation.<br />
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But enough of those geologic details. There is a hike to report on! As said in the introduction, it took us only one hour and a half to arrive at the goal for our promenade, the <a href="http://www.everytrail.com/guide/fifth-water-hot-springs-in-diamond-fork-canyon">Diamond Fork Hot Springs</a>. We had nursed the hope of being the first visitors of the day, since the nicest part of this area is the lower basins, where some kind forerunners had in the past fabricated crudely made but eminently usable basins to soak in. But, we weren't so lucky, this is a popular hiking spot, and those basins were already occupied by a relaxed family.<br />
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<table align="center" cellpadding="0" cellspacing="0" class="tr-caption-container" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto; text-align: center;"><tbody>
<tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="http://4.bp.blogspot.com/-9Y6PqWSzH10/UodMHziqG1I/AAAAAAAAHwg/y6E9YB1seD0/s1600/Diamond+Fork+Hot+Springs+Lower+Basin.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" height="235" src="http://4.bp.blogspot.com/-9Y6PqWSzH10/UodMHziqG1I/AAAAAAAAHwg/y6E9YB1seD0/s400/Diamond+Fork+Hot+Springs+Lower+Basin.jpg" width="400" /></a></td></tr>
<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">Lower section of Diamond Fork Hot Springs</td></tr>
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We had better luck with the upper section. This is a much wilder, but as enticing part of the compound. A waterfall is feeding the springs from up high and has over the ages formed some natural basins you can wade into with some effort. But once in, they are as comfortable to use as any old bath tub.<br />
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I think the title picture says it all; a happy-go-lucky group of contended travelers, enjoying the pleasures provided by nature! But what about the waterfall you say? Can't you show us any pictures of it? Well, your wish is my command!<br />
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<tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="http://2.bp.blogspot.com/-PCBw3zOEzvs/UodN_-zXnnI/AAAAAAAAHws/uIHuijsXUKk/s1600/Diamond+Fork+Hot+Springs+Waterfall.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" height="287" src="http://2.bp.blogspot.com/-PCBw3zOEzvs/UodN_-zXnnI/AAAAAAAAHws/uIHuijsXUKk/s400/Diamond+Fork+Hot+Springs+Waterfall.jpg" width="400" /></a></td></tr>
<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">Diamond Fork Hot Springs Waterfall</td></tr>
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As you can see in the picture, this is not only a waterfall of water, so to speak, but also one of stone. The latter is of a material called Calcareous Tufa and has been deposited over the ages by the mineral-rich water, as it gushes down the crevice. Interestingly, water has interacted with stone and bored a hole in the latter. In spring, when water aplenty is rushing down the creek, it will come streaming through the hole as well as over it, providing an intricate view of this convoluted structure.<br />
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When seeing it, I immediately felt the urge to climb up there and exhibit myself glancing through the hole. But caution got the better of me, thinking about the slickness of wet stone and the risk of falling off the cliff. But the rashest among our group showed no such concerns and did the deed I only dared dream about. Here you can see him returning, his task accomplished!<br />
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What else is there to tell from this hike? At our return, the sun's angle had changed and a section of the path, hitherto in shadow, was now illuminated beautifully, shining in bright red that induced some "Ohh!"s and "Ahh!"s from the group. Little did we know that this would be only the first of numerous such views, to be experienced down South on our continued journey. Soon, such admiring sounds would be sounding ridiculous in view of a region that was completely clothed in stones shining in various shades of red.<br />
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<table align="center" cellpadding="0" cellspacing="0" class="tr-caption-container" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto; text-align: center;"><tbody>
<tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="http://4.bp.blogspot.com/-pB9LSsxwI8Q/UoeHFhzi1eI/AAAAAAAAHxU/uEV5TIs8jjY/s1600/Hiking+along+Sixth+Water+Creek.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" height="310" src="http://4.bp.blogspot.com/-pB9LSsxwI8Q/UoeHFhzi1eI/AAAAAAAAHxU/uEV5TIs8jjY/s400/Hiking+along+Sixth+Water+Creek.jpg" width="400" /></a></td></tr>
<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">Red sandstone along Fifth Water Creek</td></tr>
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The hike down went of course a lot faster than the uphill labour and after less than an hour we were back at the trail head, as can be seen in the picture below.<br />
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<tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="http://2.bp.blogspot.com/-u-3W93cq8_I/UodR-Q3pJFI/AAAAAAAAHxE/bN__IxBUaLo/s1600/Back+at+Trailhead+to+Diamond+Fork+Hot+Springs_1.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" height="640" src="http://2.bp.blogspot.com/-u-3W93cq8_I/UodR-Q3pJFI/AAAAAAAAHxE/bN__IxBUaLo/s640/Back+at+Trailhead+to+Diamond+Fork+Hot+Springs_1.jpg" width="408" /></a></td></tr>
<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">Back at Diamond Fork Hot Springs Trail Head</td></tr>
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Tired but satisfied, we relaxed in our small bus and let the guide drive us out of the Uintah ranges. However, shortly before we returned to State Road 6, we shouted to the driver to stop the car. In the distance, we were glancing at a classic Western scene: a herd of cows being driven by Cowboys! So out we rushed from the vehicle to document this iconic view. The two riders, being quite amiable, humored us by putting up a show, driving the cows along with verve. One of them was especially vigorous, swinging his lasso with abandon. To honor him, I have put him into the picture twice, and it makes it a nice composition that way, don't you agree?<br />
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<tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="http://1.bp.blogspot.com/-EermtfgdrlI/UoeJCRMQcII/AAAAAAAAHxg/s5kY4CpX3bs/s1600/Cowboys+on+Spanish+Ford+Canyon+Road+.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" height="235" src="http://1.bp.blogspot.com/-EermtfgdrlI/UoeJCRMQcII/AAAAAAAAHxg/s5kY4CpX3bs/s400/Cowboys+on+Spanish+Ford+Canyon+Road+.jpg" width="400" /></a></td></tr>
<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">Cowboys driving herd in Spanish Ford Canyon</td></tr>
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This essentially concludes the report of that day's hike. But let me ramble on a bit more, since – as you probably have realised by now – I love to extemporise on landscape features prevalent in this outer-worldly land of the Saints.<br />
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As we continued our drive South on Utah Road 6 we were still, at the outset, traveling in mountain terrain, a bit similar to Austria's middle ranges. But soon we drove over the last passes and began a several hours' long descent, after having left the two coal mining towns of Halpern and Price behind us. And now I have to call myself lucky for having been granted the luxury of sitting as passenger beside the driver.<br />
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Before my eyes wide open, a seemingly limitless scenery spread its wings. The road went on without the slightest curve apparent for miles and miles (and I am using Swedish miles here!), until it converged to a tiny line in the far distance. The land slanted slightly downhill, almost unnoticeable, but the car had no difficulties ambling along. In the far distance you could just barely glance a dark band of a wall, covering all of the horizon, from far left to far right. as if circumcising a city of unlimited size. To my left and right, a steppe reached as far again as the eye could see. All in all, this was Big Sky Country if I ever saw one. And you did not even have to go to Montana to experience it.<br />
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As we drove on, and after an hour or so, I could begin to see contours in the far wall and started to understand that I must be experiencing the grandmother of all table lands. And how right I was; this was one of the larger plateau lands existing in the US and I had the supreme luck of seeing it spread out right before my eyes! We are talking her of the <a href="http://action.suwa.org/site/PageServer?pagename=WATE_bookdeso">TAVAPUTS PLATEAU</a> (it deserves to be written in capitals). This remarkable table land has an escarpment (the wall I was perceiving earlier) that runs unbroken for some 170 kilometers and is at places more than 1 kilometer high. The land on the table is one of the last unbroken wildernesses of continental US (not counting Alaska). There are no paved roads through it, warranting relative calm for the rich wildlife roaming on the top. Only 20 years ago, the completely roadless area comprised some 10 000 square kilometers! Unfortunately, mineral exploitation has brought that area down by half since then, and this development will not stop in future!<br />
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<tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="http://2.bp.blogspot.com/-ZP93RD9NMeU/Uoed6QfCcaI/AAAAAAAAHxw/OW3Dp15T7kU/s1600/View+of+Bookcliffs+from+Utah+State+Road+6.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" height="271" src="http://2.bp.blogspot.com/-ZP93RD9NMeU/Uoed6QfCcaI/AAAAAAAAHxw/OW3Dp15T7kU/s400/View+of+Bookcliffs+from+Utah+State+Road+6.jpg" width="400" /></a></td></tr>
<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">The immense escarpment of an immense tableland</td></tr>
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This remarkable landscape was completely unknown to me before seeing its escarpment appear before my very eyes; the details provided above I found out just now, doing research for the blog post. Neither do I believe the average American to ever have heard of it. Still, the Green River cuts right through it and forms a canyon, quite as deep and large as the Grand Canyon in Arizona. But how many people have ever taken note of this, not to speak of having visited the canyon? Its first explorer called it <a href="http://en.wikipedia.org/wiki/Desolation_Canyon">Desolation Canyon</a> for a reason! Its remoteness used to be its shield, since it kept most people away from it, protecting flora and fauna all over the plateau. But nowadays it is a disadvantage, since mining companies can feel free and unobserved whilst projecting for the rich deposits of mineral, gas and oil to be found in the region.<br />
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Large as it is, the Tavaputs is only the first of several plateaus that we would experience in the following days. But it was an impressive beacon for me, or road sign if you would prefer, to make me aware that we had entered the fabulous fairyland of the <a href="http://en.wikipedia.org/wiki/Colorado_Plateau">Colorado Plateau</a>. This region, as large again as the Great Basin, consists of a multitude of many-colored tablelands, like Tavaputs (even if the latter is mostly grey in color). About one third of it is placed in Utah; the remainder of our hikes would lead us to many exciting places therein!<br />
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<table align="center" cellpadding="0" cellspacing="0" class="tr-caption-container" style="float: left; margin-right: 1em; text-align: left;"><tbody>
<tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="http://2.bp.blogspot.com/-vECa6NI1i2o/UoehpNZKV9I/AAAAAAAAHx8/rl3A3pylNpE/s1600/Utah+Colorado+Plateau+Region.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" height="400" src="http://2.bp.blogspot.com/-vECa6NI1i2o/UoehpNZKV9I/AAAAAAAAHx8/rl3A3pylNpE/s400/Utah+Colorado+Plateau+Region.jpg" width="388" /></a></td></tr>
<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">The Utah Part of the Colorado Plateau – Tavaputs on upper right</td></tr>
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Emil Emshttp://www.blogger.com/profile/07815643585218883358noreply@blogger.com5tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-2242228370300474063.post-62804922585886775222013-11-13T11:37:00.000+01:002013-11-16T12:22:28.675+01:00ISLE IN BRINE<div dir="ltr" style="text-align: left;" trbidi="on">
<table align="center" cellpadding="0" cellspacing="0" class="tr-caption-container" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto; text-align: center;"><tbody>
<tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="http://2.bp.blogspot.com/-QpB9i34Upzs/UoIBFKPZHcI/AAAAAAAAHsk/Q6LC-kip36w/s1600/Buffalo+statue+on+Antelope+Island.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" height="286" src="http://2.bp.blogspot.com/-QpB9i34Upzs/UoIBFKPZHcI/AAAAAAAAHsk/Q6LC-kip36w/s400/Buffalo+statue+on+Antelope+Island.jpg" width="400" /></a></td></tr>
<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">Buffalo Statue, outside Visitor Center of Antelope Island</td></tr>
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We are standing here just outside the Visitor Center of a "barren" island in the Great Salt Lake. By "We" I mean our little <a href="http://www.wiresor.se/vandringsresor/utah/">hiking group of 8</a>, which just the day before, on October 18, had arrived in Salt Lake City, Utah, after an arduous 15-hour trip from Stockholm.<br />
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The Island, called <a href="http://en.wikipedia.org/wiki/Antelope_Island">Antelope Island</a>, lies South of <a href="http://en.wikipedia.org/wiki/Ogden,_Utah">Ogden</a>, the former great center of the Pacific Railroad. It is connected to the broad stretch of land extending below the <a href="http://en.wikipedia.org/wiki/Wasatch_Range">Wasatch Range</a> by a road bank, which can be glanced in the picture. As the road approaches the lake from the Northeast, the land turns gradually into marches and mud flats, until the mud turns into the salty lake water.<br />
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Why the buffalo on an island that appears to be burned and dry, embedded as it is in salty water? In fact, the island is rather fecund, but we did not see this in October, when most of the flowers had finished blooming and the grass dried out. We are standing at an altitude of some 1200 meters, with the island tops rising up to 2000. It rains regularly and there is snow in wintertime. There are many springs and even wetlands, warranting a rich bird life as well as roaming areas for more substantial critters.<br />
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<table align="center" cellpadding="0" cellspacing="0" class="tr-caption-container" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto; text-align: center;"><tbody>
<tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="http://2.bp.blogspot.com/-bEbHTCdKjKg/UoIJZTWhHGI/AAAAAAAAHs0/OMu0m7ZLm1s/s1600/Buffalo+near+Bridger+Bay.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" height="266" src="http://2.bp.blogspot.com/-bEbHTCdKjKg/UoIJZTWhHGI/AAAAAAAAHs0/OMu0m7ZLm1s/s400/Buffalo+near+Bridger+Bay.jpg" width="400" /></a></td></tr>
<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">Lonely Buffalo near Bridger Bay</td></tr>
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This brings us to the buffalo: the island, as a state park, happens to harbor the greatest herd of buffaloes in the world. This does not say much, since this wild oxen is almost extinct, but we should be glad for what little remains. We had high hopes of locating a substantive collection of these beasts, dreaming of stimulating them into a stampede, for photographic purposes only, of course ;-) But it turned out that they chose the Southern part of the island for grazing that very day, so only one or two outliers could be glanced along the driveway to our hiking loop.<br />
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But isn't the island called Antelope Island? What about those gracile mammals? "Yes, indeed!", you can find them here as well. They are called Pronghorn Antelopes. Unfortunately, they kept completely hidden from us that day, no doubt because there was a huge Running Event taking place on the island concurrent with our visit, so the wild ones wisely kept to the calmer areas in the South, away from the hooting, puffing and sweating crowd encroaching on their stamping grounds. But I should not exaggerate; the island is large and the crowd appeared quit thinned out in the great expanse.<br />
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<tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="http://2.bp.blogspot.com/-qx8WRqQqu4A/UoIMZki4mpI/AAAAAAAAHtA/1DnU72x_EaA/s1600/White+Rock+Loop+Trail+Head+Panorama.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" height="95" src="http://2.bp.blogspot.com/-qx8WRqQqu4A/UoIMZki4mpI/AAAAAAAAHtA/1DnU72x_EaA/s400/White+Rock+Loop+Trail+Head+Panorama.jpg" width="400" /></a></td></tr>
<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">Panorama, looking Northwest from White Rock Loop Trail</td></tr>
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To emphasize this point, take a look at the Panorama. Please double-click on it to increase its size (I hope your screen is wide enough to get it all in!). To the left, you can see White Rock Bay and, behind it, Buffalo Peak. Far off on the upper right the Wasatch Range is beckoning, colored mauve due to the great distance. Now take a look at the plain, just below where the Wasatch Range begins to taper off towards the right. Here you see a collection of small black objects, fronted by a white flap. This was the start and finish of the Great Run and also the start for our hike, the latter taking about 14 kilometers. Even if that seems a lot, the panorama you are glancing at is representing only 1/10 of the island's area; and even if our hike along the so called White Rock Loop ranged southward from here, we barely saw 1/4 of the island. So a lot of room for the wild ones to hide in and avoid contact with us!<br />
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But back to the antelopes! Even if I did not manage to get them into the camera this time, I was more lucky (that is, young enough to handle my camera with speed) in 1980. Back then, we were approaching the US Southwest from New Mexico, spending an afternoon and evening in the romantic area of <a href="http://www.shannontech.com/ParkVision/PetForest/PetForest.html">Petrified Forest</a>. In those days, if you were lucky, you could still have a whole National Park for yourself. It had rained heavily earlier that day and was just clearing up when we arrived, so we had a great time taking in the splendor of that monument. Suddenly, when turning around, I saw two animals rushing up a slope (to get away from us, no doubt!). Up with the camera and "Click!" with the finger, and the result is now here for you to behold:<br />
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<tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="http://1.bp.blogspot.com/-TFUqLaM2oUk/UoIS-zN6IdI/AAAAAAAAHtQ/zTc5jELeWbU/s1600/80+Pronghorns+in+Petrified+Forest.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" height="242" src="http://1.bp.blogspot.com/-TFUqLaM2oUk/UoIS-zN6IdI/AAAAAAAAHtQ/zTc5jELeWbU/s400/80+Pronghorns+in+Petrified+Forest.jpg" width="400" /></a></td></tr>
<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">Pronghorns in Petrified Forest National Park</td></tr>
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Interestingly, those critters don't look like antelopes to me. With heavy body and spindly legs, they appear more like oversized goats, don't you agree? In fact, the Pronghorns are not related to antelopes at all, they form their own species, being the only surviving member of the <a href="http://en.wikipedia.org/wiki/Pronghorn">antilocapridae family</a>. And they feature proudly on top of the list of fast running species. They are the frontrunners in America (with a top speed of more than 100 km/hour) and the second best in the world (after the Gepards).<br />
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There is no lack of wild species on the island. Coyote is of course prevalent here, and mule deer and bighorn sheep can been found as well. Bobcats roam the nights, but you may never see one and, in any case, you may not wish to come too close. Lesser mammals like badger, porcupine and jackrabbit, as well as rodents such as ground squirrel may cross your path on the hiking tour. <br />
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<tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="http://1.bp.blogspot.com/-UCNg-4Af0QI/UoIcUHxq38I/AAAAAAAAHts/4xplj2a5E04/s1600/Map+of+Grand+Basin.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" height="400" src="http://1.bp.blogspot.com/-UCNg-4Af0QI/UoIcUHxq38I/AAAAAAAAHts/4xplj2a5E04/s400/Map+of+Grand+Basin.jpg" width="363" /></a></td></tr>
<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">Map of Great Basin <i>Source: <a href="http://en.wikipedia.org/wiki/Great_Basin">Wikipedia</a></i></td></tr>
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How come that there is a large island in the Salt Lake, with tops rising up to 1000 meters above the level of the lake, in the middle of a wide area that is essentially flat, covered by brine and salt planes? I am glad you ask, since the geology of the area west of the Wasatch Range, stretching across Utah and Nevada, is rather interesting. The area is called the <a href="http://en.wikipedia.org/wiki/Great_Basin">Great Basin</a>, essentially a sink, more than 2000 meters below the bordering mountain ranges, the Wasatch Range on the eastside and the Sierra Nevada – bordering California – on the westside. The denomination of "sink" is very appropriate, since all rivers running into the area lose themselves and eventually evaporate.<br />
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This enormous sink, of a size a bit larger than Sweden, is essentially a desolate desert, broken up by a series of north-south oriented mountain ranges – most of them arid and barren as well, except on high. Where mountains are absent, it stretches out essentially flat, with a salty crust covering the shallow valley bottoms. You may not wish for your car to break down, if venturing out far on one of the rare sidetracks to the main routes. Without mobile phone, you will face certain death as soon as your water is running out.<br />
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<tr><td><a href="http://4.bp.blogspot.com/-t0aIyArGqwo/UoJMNPfzjcI/AAAAAAAAHuM/FKlMTzjipqE/s1600/Salt+Lake+Mud+Flats.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" height="266" src="http://4.bp.blogspot.com/-t0aIyArGqwo/UoJMNPfzjcI/AAAAAAAAHuM/FKlMTzjipqE/s400/Salt+Lake+Mud+Flats.jpg" width="400" /></a></td></tr>
<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="font-size: 12.499999046325684px;">Into the Great Basin – north-south mountain range in the background</td></tr>
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How was this great sink created? We have to thank the movement of the tectonic plates for it. Usually, those plates are grating into, or colliding with, each other. Wherever there is a collision, we can experience harsh mountain ranges, such as the Alps and the Himalaya Range. However, the great decline against the basin of the Rocky Mountain outlier (the Wasatch Range) here in Utah was actually formed by an opposite form of tectonic movements, and so were the great mountain inclines to the West of the sink.<br />
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Think of a giant rectangular wedding cake, placed on two tables put together so as to form a unified support. Now move those two tables slowly apart and watch what happens: eventually, the middle part of the cake will start to crumble and crinkle, sizable parts of it falling down in one piece, others clinging on a little while longer. Those later ones will also fall at a later stage and partly align on top of the earlier pieces. As you look at the lower support area, where all the pieces will have ultimately landed, there will be pieces of cake lying level with the support, interspersed with slanting pieces representing elevations above the support. The latter will mostly be aligned some 90 degrees against the disruptive movements. Remains of the cake will stay on top of each table, their ends rather abruptly broken off. Standing on the new lower level looking upwards, those brake-offs at the table ends will look like large mountain ranges to you, rising high above the smaller ranges placed on the lower support.<br />
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<tr><td><a href="http://1.bp.blogspot.com/-1kUrlHpEApQ/UoNHb2sfFoI/AAAAAAAAHug/d4qpk9DbBLo/s1600/Wasatch+Range+and+Salt+Lake+view+from++Antelope+Visitor+Center.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" height="320" src="http://1.bp.blogspot.com/-1kUrlHpEApQ/UoNHb2sfFoI/AAAAAAAAHug/d4qpk9DbBLo/s400/Wasatch+Range+and+Salt+Lake+view+from++Antelope+Visitor+Center.jpg" width="400" /></a></td></tr>
<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="font-size: 12.499999046325684px;">Wasatch Range, seen from Visitor Center</td></tr>
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It took geologists a great many years to understand, how the Great Basin was created. The hypothesis crudely explained above emerged first after the War. But it seems very plausible to me. Very precise measurements have shown, that the Eastern and Western fringes of the Basin continue to move away from each other at a pace of 2-3 cm per year. This is adding up over the year millions! What causes this movement? The most recent theory is that an earlier pacific ocean plate had been forced under the American continental plate and broken up underneath the latter plate approximately where the Great Basin is located. This meant that the Great Basin part of the American Plate is located, without an intermediate shield, directly above Earth' superheated magma. As a result it is thinning out and expanding, not unlike a copper plate, being heated from underneath by a blow torch. Fascinating, isn't it?<br />
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But let's move on to more mundane things! After all, we have a hike to report about. As already said, our walk was some 14 kilometers long and ran along a loop in the North, called <a href="http://hikingutah.blogspot.se/2011/10/antelope-island-white-rock-loop-trail.html">White Rock Loop Trail</a>. The nice thing about this trail is that it is easy-going. No doubt, our travel guide used it as a warm-up for future challenges. But, even if the terrain is not very demanding, it has a lot of unusual features to show for it, as well as unexpected encounters. The latter did not involve wild animals to any degree, but rather the runners mentioned earlier, as well as the odd man or two on horseback. For riders, this island must be ideal, you can roam freely over hills and dales and feel like a true Westerner, pretending to be a buffalo hunter, like in olden days!<br />
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<tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="http://1.bp.blogspot.com/-GSNm7yQYxTU/UoNK7NRM2ZI/AAAAAAAAHus/NgGbv-s94wc/s1600/Horseback+Rader+on+Antelope+Island.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" height="266" src="http://1.bp.blogspot.com/-GSNm7yQYxTU/UoNK7NRM2ZI/AAAAAAAAHus/NgGbv-s94wc/s400/Horseback+Rader+on+Antelope+Island.jpg" width="400" /></a></td></tr>
<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">"Buffalo hunter" on White Rook Loop</td></tr>
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Even if the trail essentially goes along hill flanks without really mounting any tops, there IS the possibility of doing so by a small deviation from the beaten tracks. The top in question you can climb is called Beacon Knob (the name says it all, no huge promontory there!). Even if not a great challenge to us mountain climbers, it offers an enticing view of the Lake, the valley beyond and, farther out, one of those North-South leaning mountains adorning the Basin.<br />
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<tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="http://2.bp.blogspot.com/-ksvIE1o9GaI/UoNNhm-EL9I/AAAAAAAAHu4/OeCkjRkH6qc/s1600/Beacon+Knob.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" height="266" src="http://2.bp.blogspot.com/-ksvIE1o9GaI/UoNNhm-EL9I/AAAAAAAAHu4/OeCkjRkH6qc/s400/Beacon+Knob.jpg" width="400" /></a></td></tr>
<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">Standing on Beacon Knob</td></tr>
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I am well aware that some of the readers of this blog are experts in botany. To my regret, I have not a lot of flowers to show for it this time. The walking pace induced by our guide Ingemar (he is standing to the right on the above picture) did not generally permit me to take in and photograph flowers at my usual leisurely pace. But this is understandable; if you are with a group, there are deadlines to observe and group interests to take into account. Furthermore, since the other members were younger and more vigorous than me, there was rarely the option of making up for my leisurely hobby by running, once the deed was done, after a company of hikers rashly disappearing from view.<br />
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Not that there were many flowers to take in, after all. Due to the late season, there were mostly barren stalks adorning our route. But here and there, some of the lovely petals remained, usually yellow in color. Here is an example for you. I have to admit that I am not familiar with this special flower.<br />
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<tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="http://1.bp.blogspot.com/-DpqB5BL3yXs/UoNQIOPfF5I/AAAAAAAAHvE/Vysnwm0C3NQ/s1600/Flower+on+Antelope+Island.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" height="283" src="http://1.bp.blogspot.com/-DpqB5BL3yXs/UoNQIOPfF5I/AAAAAAAAHvE/Vysnwm0C3NQ/s400/Flower+on+Antelope+Island.jpg" width="400" /></a></td></tr>
<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">Last flower on barren stalk</td></tr>
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Even so, there were places, behind shadowing cliff formations, where alpine type vegetation seemed to thrive. So let us finish this blog post on a positive note, observing that also in the cold and dry season, flora seems to thrive and survive, granted that it can find a suitable niche to do so.<br />
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<tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="http://4.bp.blogspot.com/-aPwQvI0vnLI/UoNQ0_t3uhI/AAAAAAAAHvM/FzAskTvtgL8/s1600/Flowers+and+Rock+on+Antelope+Island.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" height="232" src="http://4.bp.blogspot.com/-aPwQvI0vnLI/UoNQ0_t3uhI/AAAAAAAAHvM/FzAskTvtgL8/s400/Flowers+and+Rock+on+Antelope+Island.jpg" width="400" /></a></td></tr>
<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">Flowers and shrubs sheltered by rock</td></tr>
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Emil Emshttp://www.blogger.com/profile/07815643585218883358noreply@blogger.com2tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-2242228370300474063.post-63325180528812333302013-11-10T17:47:00.000+01:002014-02-09T00:25:06.357+01:00PROMISED LAND<div dir="ltr" style="text-align: left;" trbidi="on">
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<tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="http://1.bp.blogspot.com/-zg4sEcZ1hwc/Unts3avyoWI/AAAAAAAAHn4/HGgENkons54/s1600/Christ+Statue+on+Temple+Square.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" src="http://1.bp.blogspot.com/-zg4sEcZ1hwc/Unts3avyoWI/AAAAAAAAHn4/HGgENkons54/s400/Christ+Statue+on+Temple+Square.jpg" height="266" width="400" /></a></td></tr>
<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">Let my people come to Deseret!<br />
<i>"Christus", copy of statue sculpted by Bertel Thorvaldsen</i></td></tr>
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<span style="text-align: justify;"><span style="font-size: 12.499999046325684px;">On a warm Summer mountain day in July, a Prophet and great leader of the Faithful kept turning over wearily in a feverish sleep instigated by mountain sickness. He was bedded on a carriage, drawn by oxen, laboring on high rocky passes over stones hitherto untrodden by man. In his fever dreams, suddenly, a moment of clarity was blessing him, as if God Almighty himself were addressing his humble servant. In his inner eye he beheld a view of immense beauty. </span></span></div>
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<span style="font-size: 12.499999046325684px; text-align: justify;">As if teleported to a mountain's uttermost promontory he saw a seemingly endless plane. Below his feet the plane was adorned by a broad band of intense green that soon turned into brown and eventually into the blueness of a vast body of water. The blue melted into cyan farther in the distance and finally ended in a silver sheen that merged with the azure lightness of a shimmering sky. Far mountain ranges seemed to sail like galeons on the blinding white in the far beyond. To his left he beheld another, smaller lake, with more intense blue, out of which a broad river was born that was meandering towards the greater water. </span></div>
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<tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="http://3.bp.blogspot.com/-aXHhSdSMPLw/UnyFB2upfII/AAAAAAAAHos/uziGcSjLG7g/s1600/Sunrise+over+Wasatch+Range.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" src="http://3.bp.blogspot.com/-aXHhSdSMPLw/UnyFB2upfII/AAAAAAAAHos/uziGcSjLG7g/s400/Sunrise+over+Wasatch+Range.jpg" height="277" width="400" /></a></td></tr>
<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">Sunrise over Wasatch Range</td></tr>
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<span style="text-align: justify;"><span style="font-size: 12.499999046325684px;">The Lord has blessed me by gifting me a vision of the Holy Land, the Prophet thought. Surely I am looking at Kanaan, with River Jordan winding its way from Lake Genesareth to the Dead Sea. This MUST be the land promised by God Almighty to the Faithful.</span></span></div>
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<span style="font-size: 12.499999046325684px;">Just a few days later, </span><span style="font-size: 12.499999046325684px;">he was approaching, with trembling knees and supported by two disciples, the last vestiges of the mountain range the Faithful had been journeying across for so many days. Suddenly, a turn on the stony descent, and he go a first overview of the land beyond. </span><span style="font-size: 12.499999046325684px;">"This is the Place" he acclaimed – recalling his recent vision – for the City of Zion, and he repeated for himself the great revelation of the First Prophet: "Verily this is the word of the Lord, that the City of New Jerusalem shall be built by the gathering of the Saints …".</span></div>
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<tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="http://3.bp.blogspot.com/-WfSI7tnYHgo/UnyFyiwKaGI/AAAAAAAAHo0/FIa6Iv4dJvg/s1600/Child+and+Mormon+pioneers.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" src="http://3.bp.blogspot.com/-WfSI7tnYHgo/UnyFyiwKaGI/AAAAAAAAHo0/FIa6Iv4dJvg/s400/Child+and+Mormon+pioneers.jpg" height="301" width="400" /></a></td></tr>
<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">Mormon girl admiring Pioneer Monument on Temple Square, Salt Lake City</td></tr>
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<span style="font-size: 12.499999046325684px; text-align: justify;">What am I doing here? Isn't this supposed to be a blog post about the Four-Corner Region? Why deviate into writing like I was in a religious revival meeting? Well, surprisingly enough, this writing IS about the Four-Corner Region, and about the beginning of an era that has led to the settlement of that region with lasting impact until present day! </span></div>
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<span style="font-size: 12.499999046325684px;">The scene above describes the end of a long voyage, called the </span><a href="http://en.wikipedia.org/wiki/Mormon_pioneers" style="font-size: 12.499999046325684px;">Mormon Exodus</a><span style="font-size: 12.499999046325684px;">. After an advance party of 150 Mormons, led by Prophet Brigham Young, had ventured across Nebraska and over the Rockies in Wyoming, they eventually arrived at the Wasatch Range bordering the Big Basin of the Southwest, with the Great Salt Lake situated at the foot of this mountain range. From there, Brigham beheld, on 24 July 1847 the view described in the beginning of the post, which in turn put into motion the settlement and civilization of a major part of the American Southwest.</span></div>
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<tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="http://3.bp.blogspot.com/-vxWwChYEXoA/Unzk-xBvj8I/AAAAAAAAHpE/lJ8p_AAI0i4/s1600/80+Mustangs+near+Monument+Valley+Display.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" src="http://3.bp.blogspot.com/-vxWwChYEXoA/Unzk-xBvj8I/AAAAAAAAHpE/lJ8p_AAI0i4/s400/80+Mustangs+near+Monument+Valley+Display.jpg" height="386" width="400" /></a></td></tr>
<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">Mustangs in the sagebrush plains near San Juan</td></tr>
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<span style="font-size: 12.499999046325684px; text-align: justify;">The Mormon Faith had been founded in the beginning of the 1830s and subsequently developed by its first Prophet, <a href="http://en.wikipedia.org/wiki/Joseph_Smith">Joseph Smith</a>. His was a rather complex personality, combining in one person the character of a confidence man, visionary, writer and empire builder. It is said that he began his career in his teens by supplementing the meager incomes of his parents' farm as a treasure hunter, making believe that he possessed the ability to locate lost possessions through using a seer stone, placed in his stovepipe hat. </span></div>
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<span style="font-size: 12.499999046325684px;">But he soon went on to greater things. In his early twenties he laid down a voluminous book of epic content, claiming that he was not its originator; that he was only translating a text having been entrusted to him by an Angel – called Moroni – in the form of golden sheets. </span><span style="font-size: 12.499999046325684px;">The content of this book, called </span><a href="http://en.wikipedia.org/wiki/Book_of_Mormon" style="font-size: 12.499999046325684px;">Book of Mormon</a><span style="font-size: 12.499999046325684px;">, is considered, by the believers, as God's fundamental revelation to the Faithful. One core message therein – further elaborated by subsequent revelations to the Prophet – tells us that, upon Judgement Day, only the true believers, baptized in the Faith of the Church and entering into a covenant with God, will accede to Heaven to reign, as truly exalted beings, together with Jesus over his Millennial Kingdom. </span></div>
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<tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="http://2.bp.blogspot.com/-PHMq5HsQbPM/Unzr6zA1qPI/AAAAAAAAHpU/-yGoNMNke9c/s1600/moroni+miracle.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" src="http://2.bp.blogspot.com/-PHMq5HsQbPM/Unzr6zA1qPI/AAAAAAAAHpU/-yGoNMNke9c/s400/moroni+miracle.jpg" height="261" width="400" /></a></td></tr>
<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">Joseph Smith receiving the golden plates from Angel Moroni<br />
<i>Painting "The Hill Cumorah", by C.C.A. Christensen</i></td></tr>
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<span style="font-size: 12.499999046325684px; text-align: justify;">In the early days of Mormonism, the Latter Day Saints (as the Faithful were called eventually) believed the Day of Judgement to be imminent, and that proper preparation, within the covenant, should be carried out by the them by building — and living together in – a replica of the Heavenly City of Zion on Earth, also called the "New Jerusalem". This was from the outset conceived as a city. Its site was first foreseen to lie in Missouri and subsequently in Illinois. But persecution drove the Mormons out of both these locations, in the latter case following the lynching of Prophet Joseph Smith in 1844.</span></div>
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<span style="font-size: 12.538579940795898px;">After his death, governance of the Church was formalized to be carried out by a Quorum of Twelve Apostles, with the foremost of them acting as Prophet and Church President. The Church had the good fortune of electing Brigham Young as President, a man who proved to be a great statesman and leader of men, as well as apt organizer and administrator. After having experienced the turmoils inherited from his sometimes erratic predecessor he feared that the Faith had no future in already settled parts of the continent and sought an apt refuge for it in virgin terrains. To the Faith's good fortune immense swathes of land in the Southwest – mostly desert – were still "unspoiled" by white man, even if formally under the reign of Mexico. So Brigham decided to move his tribe to those barren regions and establish the New Jerusalem therein. </span></div>
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<tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="http://1.bp.blogspot.com/-iDl5Nk-H9ac/UnzwnyBMpgI/AAAAAAAAHpg/IsvU_UQ6YNA/s1600/The+City+of+Zion+Plat+Display.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" src="http://1.bp.blogspot.com/-iDl5Nk-H9ac/UnzwnyBMpgI/AAAAAAAAHpg/IsvU_UQ6YNA/s400/The+City+of+Zion+Plat+Display.jpg" height="390" width="400" /></a></td></tr>
<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">Plan for the City of Zion, sent in a letter to the Mormons in Independence, Missouri<br />
<i>Source: <a href="http://www.library.cornell.edu/Reps/DOCS/smith.htm"> Cornell University Library</a></i></td></tr>
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<span style="font-size: 12.538579940795898px; text-align: justify;">Just four days after his arrival at the fringe of the Great Salt Lake in July 1847, Brigham put the spade to ground for the building of the Temple of Zion and the surrounding City. The building plan followed loosely a master plan for the City of Zion, prepared already in 1833 – following a revelation to the Prophet – and sent to the Mormons in Defiance, Missouri, to assist in their town planning. </span></div>
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<span style="font-size: 12.538579940795898px;">But by now, Church Doctrine had developed further, so Brigham Young was already – as a true statesman – laying down a Master Plan for the creation of a Kingdom of God in the barren Southwest. Even in that respect he could rely on earlier revelations by the First Prophet, who increasingly perceived God's Zion on Earth not as an isolated city or a virtual Community of Saints, but rather as a territorial entity, aptly envisaged as a tent – with the New Jerusalem as the central pole upholding the construct –, which was being enhanced by an uncounted number of stakes driven into Earth, each indicating a settlement as dependency of the Heavenly City on Earth. This collection of settlements would be governed by the Church as an Earthly Theocracy and, in the thinking of the Saints, would act as preparation for the Millennial Theocracy: the Saints, being subjects of and educated within that Earthly Kingdom, would thereby be enabled to alleviate the Troubles, foreseen to precede the imminent second coming of Lord Jesus and his Millennial Reign.</span><br />
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<a href="http://2.bp.blogspot.com/-mcPR66bEf6o/Unz1-Pztf8I/AAAAAAAAHp0/o6jWP316Glc/s1600/Angel+Moroni+on+Temple+Tower.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" src="http://2.bp.blogspot.com/-mcPR66bEf6o/Unz1-Pztf8I/AAAAAAAAHp0/o6jWP316Glc/s400/Angel+Moroni+on+Temple+Tower.jpg" height="400" width="272" /></a></div>
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Angel Moroni on Temple Tower, Temple Square, Salt Lake City</div>
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<span style="font-size: 12.499999046325684px;">Faith can move mountains! Or in the present context make deserts bloom. The Southwest consists to a great extent of semi-arid plains, canyons and river valleys. Water was a scarce resource when trying to settle the area. So Brigham Young dispatched scouting parties throughout the territory, with the task of finding sources of water amenable to settlement. As soon as a reliable source was found, Mormon pioneers were sent out immediately, with necessary supplies, to settle the new-found place in accordance to a common settlement plan. The pioneers followed more or less – the specific location permitting – the master plan originally conceived in the First Prophet's revelation, mentioned earlier. </span></div>
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<span style="font-size: 12.499999046325684px;">Messages were dispatched to all Mormons in the world, in the US as well as in Europe, to come and populate the Promised Land. And come they did, in the thousands and ten thousands. Those who could afford it, payed for their own passage from overseas and travelled in wagon trains across the Rockies. The poor were not left behind: the Church advanced them the ship fare from Europe, as well as funds sufficient for buying supplies, together with a wheel barrel for transporting their belongings on foot over the prairie and the mountains. Many died along the way, but the great majority made it and filled the Sagebrush plains with people, all settled in communities built according to the Master Plan.</span></div>
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<tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="http://4.bp.blogspot.com/-9UzEf14OQTo/Un1y4p0vacI/AAAAAAAAHqE/enV7Rqc_mik/s1600/80+Pioneer+Wagon+Arches+Display.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" src="http://4.bp.blogspot.com/-9UzEf14OQTo/Un1y4p0vacI/AAAAAAAAHqE/enV7Rqc_mik/s400/80+Pioneer+Wagon+Arches+Display.jpg" height="273" width="400" /></a></td></tr>
<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">Pioneer wagon and cabin near Moab</td></tr>
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<span style="font-size: 12.499999046325684px; text-align: justify;">Within a period of some twenty years, Brigham Young and the Church could look with pride upon their Kingdom, which Brigham baptised DESERET. It was a sizable Realm of the size of France, ranging from the Southern Idaho mountains in the North to the Gila River close to the border to Mexico in the South, and from the Wasatch Range in the East to the Sierrra Nevada mountains in California to the West. Most present towns in that region stem from original Mormon settlements. Even a small stretch on the Pacific Coast was part of the territory. It lay north of where the Great Colorado River is spending his waters to the Sea, with San Bernardino, close to present day LA, having being founded as sea harbor by the Saints. The Gentile named the region <a href="http://en.wikipedia.org/wiki/Mormon_Corridor">Mormon Corridor</a>.</span></div>
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<span style="font-size: 12.499999046325684px;">How did this Theocracy fare in contact with the Gentile World? The territories in question were ceded to the US by Mexico as outcome of the war of 1846-48 between the two Nations. Brigham Young – statesman as he was – tried to accommodate the Mormon Realm to these new circumstances by proposing, that his large territory be integrated into the US as the </span><a href="http://en.wikipedia.org/wiki/State_of_Deseret" style="font-size: 12.499999046325684px;">Federal State of Deseret</a><span style="font-size: 12.499999046325684px;">. Congress, cognisant of multiple conflicts between the Mormons and the Gentiles over the years, refused this generous offer; instead, it formed, in 1850, the Utah Territory that already from the outset was considerably smaller than Brigham Young's Divine Kingdom; it did not include the areas in Arizona, New Mexico and California contained in the Kingdom. Congress did however accommodate Brigham Young by installing him as Governor of the new Territory. </span></div>
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<tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="http://1.bp.blogspot.com/-UnTG9CQ2HJI/Un19iL2VWAI/AAAAAAAAHqU/JBWRrscO3so/s1600/Dividing+up+of+Utah+Territory.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" src="http://1.bp.blogspot.com/-UnTG9CQ2HJI/Un19iL2VWAI/AAAAAAAAHqU/JBWRrscO3so/s400/Dividing+up+of+Utah+Territory.jpg" height="312" width="400" /></a></td></tr>
<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">The Dividing-Up of Utah Territory <i>Source: <a href="http://en.wikipedia.org/wiki/File:Utah_Territory_evolution_animation_-_August_2011.gif">Wikipedia</a></i></td></tr>
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<span style="font-size: 12.499999046325684px; text-align: justify;">But matters were not allowed to be put at ease with this initial decision. Many Gentiles moved into the Territory in following decades, drawn to the riches in the mountains and the need to improve transportation East-West, not least by building the Trans-Pacific Railroad. Conflicts between raucous Mammon and pious Kingdom increased over time and led Congress to dismember the vast Territory step-by-step. It was almost halved in 1961, when the Territory of Nevada was created. Subsequently, Nevada was granted additional land to cater for the miners of rich silver deposits in the Great Basin and, as result, a much smaller Utah Territory emerged by the end of the 'sixties, contained roughly within the present borders of Utah State. </span></div>
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<span style="font-size: 12.499999046325684px;">Whilst all surrounding territories were being granted Statehood in a timely fashion, this was categorically refused to Utah. The US did not, and could not, condone Mormon doctrines perceived to conflict with the Constitution, such as, the principle of Polygamy. Matters came to a climax already in 1857, when the President felt compelled to send federal groups to the State and dispose Brigham Young as Governor. The Civil War brought additional restraints to the Territory and initiated a renewed influx of Gentiles that gradually undermined the dominance of Mormons over the territory's economic and political affairs. Eventually, the Church realized that it had too much to lose by insisting on doctrines provoking the Gentiles and rescinded the scripture on Polygamy. Soon thereafter, in 1898, Utah received Statehood.</span></div>
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<tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="http://3.bp.blogspot.com/-s9CGNyG4aXs/Un4WXMTT6KI/AAAAAAAAHqk/zt0DnaP9804/s1600/Mormon+after+Cumorah+Battle.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" src="http://3.bp.blogspot.com/-s9CGNyG4aXs/Un4WXMTT6KI/AAAAAAAAHqk/zt0DnaP9804/s400/Mormon+after+Cumorah+Battle.jpg" height="283" width="400" /></a></td></tr>
<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;"><i>Painting "Mormon bids farewell to a once great nation", by Arnold Friberg </i></td></tr>
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<span style="font-size: 12.499999046325684px; text-align: justify;">Many Gentiles, reading about Mormonism and the Book of Mormon, experience a feeling of instinctive revulsion. No doubt, this has its origins in the fact that Joseph Smith claimed to have discovered an important enhancement – in America of all places – of the venerable Bible, which after all had stood the test of time unchanged since more than two millennia back. But it would be a mistake to leave it at such feelings. I am an agnostic myself, but think that the Faith deserves more serious consideration, both of the way it was constituted and the form it took when a hostile environment forced the Saints to an Exodus into the wilderness</span><span style="font-size: 12.731481552124023px; text-align: justify;">. </span></div>
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<span style="font-size: 12.499999046325684px; text-align: justify;">We should not forget that Mormonism is a new religion, not really Christian, that emerged only less than 200 years ago. As I see it, it represents a relevant and valuable subject of study, if we as scholars wish to learn more about the gestation of a new faith and the conditions, by which it is enabled to grow and become a major world movement. The life and actions of its founder, Joseph Smith are still well documented and accessible to all, in contrast to such founding fathers as Yeshua bar Yosef and Abū al-Qāsim Muḥammad. The precise circumstances of the latters' life and personality, as well as of their founding actions, are hidden to us by the mist of time, thus rendering them full of religious mysticism and preventing us from understanding the processes shaping their new faith at the beginning. </span></div>
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<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">Balancing Rock in Arches National Monument</td></tr>
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<span style="text-align: justify;"><span style="font-size: 12.499999046325684px;">That leaves us with the question, how the Book of Mormon really came to be: was it a book written by Joseph Smith as author or was it produced as result of divine intervention? In my view, the answer lies in between those two extremes, since I do not believe that </span></span><span style="text-align: justify;"><span style="font-size: 12.731481552124023px;">Joseph Smith, in his early twenties, would have possessed the energy and perseverance to spend two years of his life in producing a bible-like book, of more than 500 printed pages, without some extraordinary impetus. But neither do I believe that impetus to have come from Heaven. Rather, I tend to place that impetus in Joseph's brain itself: recent results from neurophysiological research have</span></span><span style="font-size: 12.731481552124023px; text-align: justify;"> demonstrated that the human brain is perfectly capable of producing flashes of virtual experience that the brain wrongly conceives as natural events observed from the outside world. </span><br />
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<span style="font-size: 12.499999046325684px; text-align: justify;">Joseph Smith could easily have at several occasions been subject to such flashes – akin to hallucination – in the form of an Angel speaking to him. Of course, the subsequent authoring would have been done by him, and additional attributes of the story – the golden plates and the two seer stones </span><a href="http://en.wikipedia.org/wiki/Urim_and_Thummim_(Latter_Day_Saints)" style="font-size: 12.499999046325684px; text-align: justify;">Urim and Thummim</a><span style="font-size: 12.499999046325684px; text-align: justify;"> that allegedly permitted him to translate the scripture on the plates – invented by him in order to increase the credibility of his work. He was raised in an epoch teeming with religious revival, so the story would, all in all, not appear strange to his contemporaries, at least not to those that were being carried away by the then on-going vogue of spiritualism.</span></div>
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<tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="http://3.bp.blogspot.com/-0MFhLUcjnoY/Un6VOvaiC2I/AAAAAAAAHrE/joaqxPbwwMM/s1600/80+Mormon+children+in+Sunday+attire+Display.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" src="http://3.bp.blogspot.com/-0MFhLUcjnoY/Un6VOvaiC2I/AAAAAAAAHrE/joaqxPbwwMM/s400/80+Mormon+children+in+Sunday+attire+Display.jpg" height="400" width="400" /></a></td></tr>
<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">Mormon girls at Sabbath</td></tr>
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<span style="text-align: justify;"><span style="text-align: justify;"><span style="font-size: 12.499999046325684px;">Let's not get sidetracked unduly into theophilosophic discussion, however! There are more fascinating aspects of Mormonism for us to look at. As a warm-up, let me tell you a story from a stay in Moab within the hiking trip I participated in two weeks ago. Our hotel was placed quite far from the center. Still, I could not help noticing that the streets, even at some distance from downtown, were unusually wide, and that the building lots were large, with ample space for gardens in front and on the sides, as well as in the back of the houses. Compared to <span id="goog_358016715"></span><a href="http://emilems.blogspot.se/2012/04/how-to-create-and-preserve-nice.html">South Berkeley</a><span id="goog_358016716"></span>, you could easily have fitted in two houses on each lot instead of one. </span>
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<span style="text-align: justify;"><span style="text-align: justify;"><span style="font-size: 12.499999046325684px;">These specific characteristics stem from over 150 years back, when Brigham Young (mostly personally) initiated, planned and organized the settling of Deserete. Starting out from First Prophet's Plan for Zion, each new settlement was laid out according to that plan's essential characteristics: a quadratic lay-out, large streets and large plots. Furthermore, all the settlers were supposed to live within that quadratic compound, with the fields – individually owned, but collectively irrigated – lying outside. In such a way the Southwestern barren region was civilized in a manner that strongly resembles the rural village life practised in Feudal Europe – from its beginning and until the mid-fifties of last century. Of course, this doesn't mean anything to the Swedes among the readers, who already in the beginning of the 1700s had been driven out of their villages and been condemned, each of them, to live in splendid isolation in the middle of their fields, foregoing for evermore the pleasures of village life.</span></span></span><br />
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<tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="http://3.bp.blogspot.com/-6uQ_8KcBjLg/Un-mT0py3PI/AAAAAAAAHr8/TJF9-F6B0bE/s1600/80+Old+mormon+farm+Display.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" src="http://3.bp.blogspot.com/-6uQ_8KcBjLg/Un-mT0py3PI/AAAAAAAAHr8/TJF9-F6B0bE/s400/80+Old+mormon+farm+Display.jpg" height="271" width="400" /></a></td></tr>
<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">Mormon farm outbuildings near Capitol Reef – Note Lombardy Poplars to the left</td></tr>
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<span style="text-align: justify;"><span style="text-align: justify;"><span style="font-size: 12.499999046325684px;">The Mormon village life – within more than 300 settlements in the arid Southwest! – was in stark contrast to the raucous and disorderly Gentile settlement of the Southwest</span></span></span><span style="text-align: justify;"><span style="font-size: 12.499999046325684px;"> by ranchers, miners, traders, railroaders, gold diggers and generally fortune hunters. Indians, puzzled by this difference, went as far as believing that two different white races were infringing on their territory: "Mericats" and "Mormonee". Seen in retrospect, the Mormon possession appears as a perfect example of sustainable small scale farming in arid areas, in contrast to the violation of land and resources exercised by early and present industrialism, as well as caused by modern day urbanization of this fragile borderline land. </span></span><br />
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<span style="text-align: justify;"><span style="text-align: justify;"><span style="font-size: 12.499999046325684px;">But, biological advantages aside, life in those settlements provided for a rich social Community togetherness, even if planned and supervised by an authoritarian religious hierarchy. For the few hours of leisure from never-ending hard labors, there was no suppression of healthy entertainment, quite the opposite! Each settlement contained a Community Hall for singing, dancing, concerts and – of course – praying. Furthermore, life in the small did not mean a lack of perspective of the large. Each village had at least some members that had been overseas proselytizing and had come back with rich experiences from abroad to tell the backbenchers. </span></span></span><br />
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<tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="http://2.bp.blogspot.com/-ZVbHHIEGJ90/Un-mCN1S0zI/AAAAAAAAHr4/8p9JXz17ruM/s1600/80+Poplar+Allee+Nevada+Display.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" src="http://2.bp.blogspot.com/-ZVbHHIEGJ90/Un-mCN1S0zI/AAAAAAAAHr4/8p9JXz17ruM/s400/80+Poplar+Allee+Nevada+Display.jpg" height="283" width="400" /></a></td></tr>
<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">Lombardy Poplars fencing in a field – sign of former Mormon settlement in Eastern Nevada</td></tr>
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<span style="text-align: justify;"><span style="text-align: justify;"><span style="font-size: 12.499999046325684px;">If you would have travelled in the area from the mid-1800s onwards, or for that part up to the 1950s, you would have been pleased to see villages, arising seemingly out of nowhere, with spacious streets and stately homes, each surrounded by a spacious garden in full bloom; and, outside the village, orchards bursting with fruit along green fields, fenced in by trees that made you believe you were in Italy. The latter were always Lombardy Poplars, a tree so cherished by the Mormons that it was, and still is, commonly called "Mormon Tree" in the US.</span></span></span><br />
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<span style="text-align: justify;"><span style="text-align: justify;"><span style="font-size: 12.499999046325684px;">I have to confess that it brings tears to my eyes, writing this; for am I not at heart a small boy raised in a small rural village just like this? The more so since this child paradise of mine is long gone and lost forever, swallowed by progress of time and progress itself? In the same way, the Mormon settlement of yore is gone and lost, having disappeared in the great American Equalizer of freeways, business districts and Hamburger bars. Yet, there is a difference between the two. My own village is still looking like it used to, give or take a house or two. It is the people who have changed (and been exchanged) and appear to have lost their sense of Communality. Whereas, granted that the Mormon village has been dissolved in the great but shallow sea of Mammon; the descendants of those villagers still appear to entertain a virtual village mentality. Or maybe this is wishful thinking from my part, having had scant contact with the Mormons of present day, and having learned about the village Mormons of yore solely through literature, above all from reading the historian <a href="http://www.amazon.com/Mormon-Country-Edition-Wallace-Stegner/dp/0803293054">Wallace Stegner</a>.</span></span></span><br />
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<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">Lonely Church on Sagebrush Plain</td></tr>
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<span style="text-align: justify;"><span style="text-align: justify;"><span style="font-size: 12.499999046325684px;">I am dedicating this post to my beloved former wife Alice Elviira Katariina Ems (b. Kuismin). She was a Saint when I first met her. May she rest in peace and be resurrected to the Heaven of her choosing!</span></span></span><br />
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Emil Emshttp://www.blogger.com/profile/07815643585218883358noreply@blogger.com5tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-2242228370300474063.post-17905439560387974282013-11-05T08:53:00.000+01:002013-11-05T08:57:18.125+01:00GRAND[IOSE] STAIRCASE<div dir="ltr" style="text-align: left;" trbidi="on">
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<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">Looking back at Earth' beginnings – no fossils yet embedded in those stones</td></tr>
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What am I looking at here, standing at the fringe of a small cliff, looking down some 100 meters on a tiny mountain rivulet? This must be a small canyon carved out by the river out of black stone, possibly granite? This canyon could lie in any old mountain region in the world.</div>
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In fact, we are witnessing here not only one, but three extraordinary vistas/experiences. So, let the story begin. This picture shows only a tiny fraction of the monstrosity of a canyon, just the last finishing touch of an almost infinite earth cleft, more than 1.5 kilometers deep.</div>
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The day before, a cool day in the beginning of March 1977, we had been camping on snow powdered heights, among pine trees, and accompanied by the odd deer, wondering what we were doing out there in the frozen wilderness. That very morning, we arrived at the edge of that enormous rift, below us an immensity of open spaces, of a depth and width that made us hold on to each other, lest vertigo get the better of us and draw us down into the void.</div>
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<tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="http://3.bp.blogspot.com/-yIhZBmrJxlw/UnaFA-TRxII/AAAAAAAAHlY/kod3VPMPvmA/s1600/77+Bright+Angel+Trail+Display.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" height="352" src="http://3.bp.blogspot.com/-yIhZBmrJxlw/UnaFA-TRxII/AAAAAAAAHlY/kod3VPMPvmA/s400/77+Bright+Angel+Trail+Display.jpg" width="400" /></a></td></tr>
<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">Looking at Earth' Old Age – life exploding about one third down from the opposite rim</td></tr>
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This picture shows it all. Almost 1.5 kilometers down you see a plateau, on which a trail is winding its way to the end of a cliff. Follow the trail as far as you can see. Then imagine trekking down the slope to its right, until you have climbed down to the little sun-lit promontory you see almost hiding in the shadows. This is were I would be standing half a day later and my wife Alice would take the picture of me you have seen above.</div>
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Does it surprise you, seeing this immensity, that we both had been completely overwhelmed by a longing to get down there, that could be quenched only by rushing to the trail start and almost running down the slopes? There was no planning, no worries about how to carry this endeavor through, no water bottles; we just HAD to go down there and see the river!</div>
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Said and done; after several hours increasingly slower descent we finally arrived at the plateau you are seeing above. No snow and ice down there, we were in the desert and the sun was heating up! And we were thirsty! And, to our surprise, the trail seemed to go on for ever on that damn plateau! Fortunately, about one kilometer into it, there was an oasis where we could quench our thirst. Invigorated, we carried on and eventually arrived at the promontory mentioned above. Should we go farther?</div>
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By then it was already past midday, and reason (or rather Alice) prevailed. It was time to go back, lest we be lost, thirsty, freezing and starving, in the upward slope at sunset. </div>
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<tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="http://1.bp.blogspot.com/-QHQ95xVMrsw/UnaL8A62r3I/AAAAAAAAHl0/obCs9ut_Z8g/s1600/77+Grand+Canyon+%E2%80%93+Ascension+Display+(1).jpg" imageanchor="1" style="clear: left; margin-bottom: 1em; margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" height="640" src="http://1.bp.blogspot.com/-QHQ95xVMrsw/UnaL8A62r3I/AAAAAAAAHl0/obCs9ut_Z8g/s640/77+Grand+Canyon+%E2%80%93+Ascension+Display+(1).jpg" width="408" /></a></td></tr>
<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">The laborious way back up – worse than it looks!</td></tr>
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This little tale takes care of the first experience, a memory I cherish and a hike I wish everyone could take once in his life; earlier rather than later, though!</div>
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When you are young and foolish, exhilarating exploits are your main interest. Thus, apart from admiring the many-colored stones on the way down and back up I gave little thought to what could be learned from the multitude of earth layers being literally at my grasp.</div>
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Some years later, I happened to stumble over a book describing the geology of Grand Canyon and was stupefied by what I read! Walking down that canyon is like taking a voyage back in time. Here is the one place on Earth were you can have a close look at all the stone strata that existed between 1.5 billion and 250 million years ago! The black granite mentioned at the beginning of this post shows also the beginning of time. It stems from the <a href="http://www.infoplease.com/ipa/A0001822.html">Proterozoic Age</a> which precedes what is geologically perceived as the beginning of Earth' Old Age.</div>
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As you are laboring up the canyon wall, slowly puffing your way around all those serpentines, you pass the Cambrian and Silurian Periods. About two thirds up the canyon walls, you begin to see the Carboniferous Period. First now, after more than two billion years, can Earth be envisaged exploding in life, giving rise to a sizable stratum of organic based material. The journey ends with the Permian Period when almost all forms of life were being extinct again, a fitting end to an ascension ending at Grand Canyon's rim.</div>
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Now to the third experience: the hike described above started and ended on Grand Canyons' South Rim. From there, we intended to carry on into Utah, to visit Zion National Park, already described in the preceding blog post (<a href="http://emilems.blogspot.se/2013/10/angels-landing-in-valleys-of-fire.html">Angels landing in Valleys of Fire</a>). So, fast forward! The following day, we had already had a quick look down the Northern Rim and were proceeding our trip northward. The landscape evolving before us was impressive enough. The land was tilting downwards for many miles, providing a panoramic view of some high plateaus rising in the far distance. This proved irresistible to yours truly, and I just HAD to stop the car to preserve the vista for the future. Here is the result:<br />
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<tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="http://1.bp.blogspot.com/-qBcXe-qdAAo/Undvmo3igOI/AAAAAAAAHmI/ql_KkFIi3Qw/s1600/81+may+The+Giant+Staircase+Display.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" height="277" src="http://1.bp.blogspot.com/-qBcXe-qdAAo/Undvmo3igOI/AAAAAAAAHmI/ql_KkFIi3Qw/s400/81+may+The+Giant+Staircase+Display.jpg" width="400" /></a></td></tr>
<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">Looking from afar at Earth' Middle and New Ages</td></tr>
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And again, the vista I was fortunate enough to admire, due to its beauty so suitable to a nice camera shot, turned out to be far more significant than my young eyes perceived it to be. Some years later, a friend from the US sent me, as a gift, a beautifully drawn geological presentation on a wide parchment, with the enticing title "<a href="http://en.wikipedia.org/wiki/Grand_Staircase">THE GRAND STAIRCASE</a>". It showed a sequence of plateaus, starting with the Grand Canyon Rim, arranged like a gigantic staircase, with each plateau ending with an almost vertical drop-off. It took some time for me to realize that my photo above was a perfect presentation of ALL THE STEPS on this staircase. Unfortunately, I have lost the parchment in one of my many moves, but Internet came to my rescue with a similar presentation:<br />
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<tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="http://4.bp.blogspot.com/-AaZjSkp66eI/Und3gfvCDFI/AAAAAAAAHmY/v9dSamlNweI/s1600/Geologic+staircase.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" height="282" src="http://4.bp.blogspot.com/-AaZjSkp66eI/Und3gfvCDFI/AAAAAAAAHmY/v9dSamlNweI/s400/Geologic+staircase.jpg" width="400" /></a></td></tr>
<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">The "Grand Staircase" of the Colorado Plateau" <i>Source: </i><a href="http://www.amazon.com/Ancient-Landscapes-Colorado-Plateau-Blakey/dp/1934656038">Blakey & Ranney</a></td></tr>
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The first drop-off in the staircase is called "Chocolate Cliffs", just barely visible in my photo as a small dark line on the bottom of the general escarpment. It represents stone layers belonging to the first era in Earth' Middle Age, the Triassic Period. Thereupon follows the "Vermillion Cliffs", the pink escarpment on the photo. Together with the following section, the "White Cliffs", it represents layers from the Jurassic Period. The Virgin River has cut through both of those stairs, like a sharp knife, to form Zion Canyon. Why not have a closer look by glancing at that canyon, observing a wall of sheer Vermillion, and with a White crown on top. Throughout those layers, mighty dinosaurs roamed the Earth and the first Redwoods and Sequoias were invading the slopes.<br />
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<tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="http://2.bp.blogspot.com/-89Mwp23LANs/Und55_znobI/AAAAAAAAHmk/x83HYuFnuhY/s1600/77+Great+White+Throne+Zion+Display.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" height="268" src="http://2.bp.blogspot.com/-89Mwp23LANs/Und55_znobI/AAAAAAAAHmk/x83HYuFnuhY/s400/77+Great+White+Throne+Zion+Display.jpg" width="400" /></a></td></tr>
<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">Looking at the Age of Mighty Dinosaurs</td></tr>
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The Gray Cliffs come next. glimpsed as the lower part of the distant mountain range in my photo. They represent the Cretaceous Period, at the end of which the Dinosaurs, as most other animals and plants, met a sudden extinction, just as other types of life in the Permian Period some 200 million years afore. The color is fitting the event, don't you think? 'Nough said about this!<br />
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The rosy pink colors of dawn are greeting us in the uppermost layers of those distant mountains. This is also fitting, since they indicate the emergence of modern times, with Tertiary and Quarternary stone layers adorning the lofty heights of Cedar Breaks and Bryce Canyon, reigning almost 3000 meters above sea level. These layers are especially colorful when the morning or evening sun is flattering their flanks. Let me begin to show this with a picture of <a href="http://en.wikipedia.org/wiki/Cedar_Breaks_National_Monument">Cedar Breaks National Monument</a> in the early morning hours. The Pink Cliffs clearly visible now show stone strata formed about 60 million years ago, at the bottom of a prehistoric sea.<br />
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<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">Looking at the Age of Mammals</td></tr>
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How come that these cliffs are so well preserved, considering that erosion is always eating away the most recent – and exposed – stone layers first, keeping the more ancient strata underneath for future consumption? We are extremely lucky to be able to still se them! Consider the top of the mountain, reigning over the cliffs at an altitude of more than 3000 meters. Here we see the remains of a volcano, which erupted just 30 million years ago and covered the cliff strata with hardened lava stones, that withstand the test of time more easily than the underlying limestone cliffs and protect those, except where a sudden drop-off of the mountain exposes the underlying layers vertically to the seasons. Thus, rain, wind, sunshine, snow, cold and heat are eating into the limestone from the mountain's flank and, give or take a ten million years or two, will have gobbled up the mountain top we are still observing. After this, only pink rubble will be left of the mountain, covering the underlying grey strata of the Cretacious Period.<br />
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Opposite to this South-Western flank of this mountain range lies <a href="http://en.wikipedia.org/wiki/Bryce_Canyon_National_Park">Bryce Canyon National Park</a>, which is much larger and has a far greater collection of intricate sculptures in pink to show for it. Thus, the mountain – which really is a volcanic stone covered table land, called the <a href="http://en.wikipedia.org/wiki/Paunsaugunt_Plateau">Pansaugunt Plateau</a> – is being attacked by erosive forces from two flanks, hastening the pace of its demise. But this is to our pleasure, since few places on Earth have such a collection of delicate stone statues, painted in delicate ink, to show for them.<br />
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<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">Mankind appearing at the uppermost border of this layer</td></tr>
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But the sheer beauty of these cliffs should not detain you from recognizing that the stone strata in question are holding remnants of the origin of our own species. Earth' New Age is the age of mammals, and we are just the latest link on their evolution. Who knows what will appear after us in the millions of years to come?<br />
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Having digested all this heavy information, you may well ask yourself this: how is it possible that there are still people, in this huge country, where Earth' history can be read like an open book, that believe – and schools that teach – that Earth was created some 5000 years ago and actually shaped within a period of six days? I would strongly recommend persons holding such a view to take a trip to the Four Corner Region and follow the "Angels". Why not start by taking the <a href="http://www.youtube.com/watch?v=WqsgpOVHBbM">Bright Angel Trail</a> down Grand Canyon and Back Up, identifying each rock stratum as you pass it by, and counting the billion years it took to shape them. Why not continue by ascending <a href="http://emilems.blogspot.se/2013/10/angels-landing-in-valleys-of-fire.html">Angels Landing</a> in Zion, to ponder the fate of our great predecessors on Earth, the mighty Dinosaurs. Why not complete the journey by hiking down the <a href="http://www.youtube.com/watch?v=8AZ8JlssADo">Navajo Loop Trail</a> in Bryce Canyon, to consider the emergence of our forefathers, the first mammals, and their development over millions of years until present time?<br />
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Would such a journey into the past lead a true believer astray from his firm belief in a higher being and creator? Not necessarily! Who is to say that the days of God are counted in the same manner as we are counting the days? What about the first day, when out of darkness came the command "Fiat Lux!"? Has this God's day not a duration that, in an infinite sequence, is tending towards infinitesimal length, indicating the very moment at which a first event, called the "Big Bang" by us humble men, was initiated? Man has come far in his consideration of space, time and evolution. But we are still not able to reach as far back as to that infinitesimal moment, not to speak of the why and how of its occurrence. So who could disprove a firm belief that this event was caused by a higher being, for reasons forever hidden from us humble humans? Thus, for a firm believer, belief in a higher being can always be reconcilable with the facts written in stone; that the Earth is more than 4.5 billion years old!<br />
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I see that I am getting into matters far too serious. Let's stop the bickering here and finish this post in a lighter mode. Why not have a last look at a narrow canyon slot, actually a leaning together of two <a href="http://www.nps.gov/brca/naturescience/hoodoos.htm">Hoodoos</a>, as experienced by my late wife Alice, when we were treading the Navajo Loop Trail, so many years ago.<br />
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<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">Alice pondering the meeting of two <a href="http://www.nps.gov/brca/naturescience/hoodoos.htm">hoodoos</a></td></tr>
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Emil Emshttp://www.blogger.com/profile/07815643585218883358noreply@blogger.com7tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-2242228370300474063.post-17938220571521485352013-10-12T00:37:00.002+02:002018-04-06T18:18:26.850+02:00ANGELS LANDING IN VALLEYS OF FIRE<div dir="ltr" style="text-align: left;" trbidi="on">
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It was mid-March. The sun was blazing on a blue sky without clouds. My wife Alice and I had just three days prior "conquered" an enormous rift in the world's rind, descending to its bottom and back up in one day. Then two days' ride through a landscape full of blazing colors, traversing the great red-brown river on a bridge hazardly clinging to bare cliffs, and by-passing ranges aptly called "Vermillion". Then on to endless planes of semi-desert sagebrush until, on the horizon, white haired giantesses beckoned, dressed in pink skirts of Junonesque splendor. Ever nearer did we travel until entering deep clefts between the rises. Suddenly, a seemingly limitless expanse opened up between walls mauve as in fairytales. We braked the car and I rashly approached a promontory permitting an undivided view of all this splendor. We had arrived in the holy land of Zion! A dream of a land had come true at last!</div>
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This benighted view, so romantically accessed by us, lies in America, at the joining of four US States. This is rather blandly called the "Four Corners Region", but there is nothing bland about it. You would be hard put to find another land in the world so rich in geographical as well as human history. Human history, you might ask? "Yes!", indeed, wherever you go you find traces of human presence and rich history, from pre-historic times all the way up to present times. Barren the region may be, nowadays, with water dear and temperatures high. But it has not always been like this and the region has teemed with cities and culture in earlier ages and climes. </div>
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<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">Prehistoric Civilisation – White House in Canyon de Chelly</td></tr>
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Even if present-time climate is un-inviting to human presence, it has its advantages. Large swathes of land and mountain slopes in the region are bare and lacking vegetation, lying wide open to eyes willing to see and brains apt to interpret. Earth's history in all its millions and millions of years is accessible to us in those multi-colored landscapes, if we but take the effort of climbing the slopes and bridging the wide expanses. </div>
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You may well ask, what has this region in common with California, thus meriting its mentioning in the present blog? Granted that, in my voyage down memory lane, it was natural, hitherto, to concentrate on the narrow surroundings of UC Berkeley, where I had spent such a happy time some 35 years ago. But, to my benefit, the study year in Berkeley had some breaks, permitting my wife and me to range a lot farther than the East Bay Hills and San Francisco. So, in March 1976, we had spent two weeks traveling to and within the Four Corners Region. We were completely un-prepared for what we would find there when leaving Berkeley, since we had not had the time to read about it and otherwise make preparations. So all the wondrous experiences we had during those two weeks came as a big, but welcome, surprise to our mind, still young and eager to take it all in. I am blessed to have a plethory of memories from that trip, from a time when the natural wonders were still unencumbered by myriads of tourists and thus often experienced by us in splendid isolation. </div>
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<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">Alice deciding she won't follow me to the top</td></tr>
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Often, in later years, I dreamed back to this trip and told myself I would repeat it upon my retirement. I would, I foresaw, rent a mobile home, driving around the sites once again, this time traveling in style and resting in more comfort in-between hiking and climbing tours. As my retirement approached, the dream gradually receded into the background; with age, you tend to change your focus and other agendas come to the forefront of your mind. But my interest was rekindled when a travel bureau offered a hiking tour to Utah some months ago. "Why not?" I thought and booked the trip. Departure time is now imminent and I am much looking forward to visit this region once again, after 35 years' delay. After some initial warming up, more posts will hopefully be forthcoming in a subsequence dealing with this topic. Stay tuned, dear readers, this may become interesting yet. </div>
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Do I hear that you have already a question on your tongue and are eager to get an answer to it? Why the title of this post? Well, let me give an answer for the first part of the title right now, leaving the second half to the end of the sub-sequence. "Angels Landing" is the name of a prominent promontory, really a small mountain, rising up in the middle of Zion Canyon in Utah and enticing visitors to the Park to attempt its ascent. This is no easy task since, after two hours' relatively easy approach hiking, the last part of the ascent entails a precarious balancing on a very narrow ridge with yawning declines threatening to the left and right. I had to do this last bit alone, back in 1977, since Alice had enough sense to abstain. Enough said; I am still alive and able to tell the story. Once on top, a beautiful vista opened up of the canyon floor, with the Virgin River tracing a delicate pattern on the valley floor, surrounded by white-capped mountains with pink shirts covering their private parts. </div>
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In those days I was a rash youngster and always striving to get the best vista possible. At that occasion this entailed jumping across a fissure, about 1,5 meters broad, to come to the very end of the top. I had entrusted my camera to a vigorous young lady with instructions on how to photograph me at the very brink. However, after the jump I noticed her shaking so badly that I had to ask her to calm down and take several more shots. The very last one turned out reasonably sharp and can document my presence on this top for posterity ;-). </div>
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<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">The "Angel" has landed – Emil on top of Angels Landing</td></tr>
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Just to round up this divertissement, the other day I found a nice video on Youtube that tells the story of a recent ascent, by a rash group of youngsters eager to repeat my accomplishment. Of course, theirs was the easier task, since the traverse of the precarious ridge is nowadays reasonably secured, with ropes installed and steps hoed into solid stone. Still, six people have died in the ascent within the last decade alone. So, it is a bit scary to look at those youngsters in action. But don't be afraid! Make sure to watch <span style="color: red;">the whole film</span>!</div>
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Emil Emshttp://www.blogger.com/profile/07815643585218883358noreply@blogger.com4tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-2242228370300474063.post-77290974633006795972012-07-13T23:43:00.000+02:002019-12-11T12:33:14.198+01:00MAGIC IN THE UNEXPECTED<div dir="ltr" style="text-align: left;" trbidi="on">
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<a href="http://3.bp.blogspot.com/-CQOC-Mu8dzQ/UACOt3nMbKI/AAAAAAAAG9U/z-CRPNFZ6q4/s1600/IMG_0028+Master.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" height="400" src="https://3.bp.blogspot.com/-CQOC-Mu8dzQ/UACOt3nMbKI/AAAAAAAAG9U/z-CRPNFZ6q4/s400/IMG_0028+Master.jpg" width="289" /></a></div>
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On a late afternoon in May, I came back from revisiting the <a href="http://emilems.blogspot.se/2010/04/you-know-of-course-who-was-chester.html">Nimitz Way</a>, located in Tilden, a Nature Reserve high up on the Berkeley Hills. The roads in that reserve are a bit confusing, and suddenly I found myself on an exit hitherto unknown to me. Eventually I emerged on a ridge road called Grizzly Peak Boulevard and turned north to find my way back to Berkeley. Hardly 100 meters after the turn, quite unexpectedly, a wonderful vista opened up for me. At a parking lot, the whole Bay could be discerned, with the Golden Gate Bridge shimmering in the mauve evening sunshine.<br />
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The view gifted me with an intensive feeling of happiness, quite surpassing my reaction to similar vistas observed at earlier planned and foreseen occasions. Why would that be? I really don't know, but it is a fact that unexpected events, arriving out of the blue, so to speak, stimulate our senses to a much higher degree than experiences of our day-to-day life, or events planned aforehand.<br />
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<tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="http://1.bp.blogspot.com/-sv2t2uVl5NQ/UAPP-0Qav8I/AAAAAAAAG9k/gmAPRCL5JRo/s1600/IMG_0060+Master.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" height="300" src="https://1.bp.blogspot.com/-sv2t2uVl5NQ/UAPP-0Qav8I/AAAAAAAAG9k/gmAPRCL5JRo/s400/IMG_0060+Master.jpg" width="400" /></a></td></tr>
<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;"> Golden Gate, seen from Grizzly Peak Boulevard</td></tr>
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As a traveller, your senses are more geared towards observing the unexpected than if you were still back at home. This is why, I believe, Berkeley has blessed me with a plethora of such experiences, which have lined up for me like pearls on a lovely lady's necklace. Let me take the occasion, at this very last post of the California Blog, to reminisce part of these events.<br />
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You may recall that I have a fond relationship with Strawberry Creek on Campus. Many a day have I been strolling along that gurgling water, up or down as the occasion demands, as the brook provides me with a convenient and shady access to the main buildings at UCB. Just at the first bridge crossing, coming from the Western Entry, the creek is forming a small "rapids" through a redwood grove, a view always challenging my photographic ability. One day, when I just had made the camera ready, suddenly a young nymph appeared, as emerging from the foaming waters. Out she jumped towards me and embraced me warmly, albeit with dainty fingers icy cold from the waters. I have described the whole episode in an earlier blog post already (<a href="http://emilems.blogspot.se/2010/06/climb-lofty-indians.html">C<i>limb The Lofty Indians</i></a>), but could not abstain from putting the picture in here again, as the foremost example of how your otherwise drab life can be enlivened by an unexpected encounter.<br />
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<tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="http://2.bp.blogspot.com/-fNfW9WAP7gA/UAPcpgONhYI/AAAAAAAAG9w/47lFPlmxBCA/s1600/_DSC0064+Book+(1).jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" height="400" src="https://2.bp.blogspot.com/-fNfW9WAP7gA/UAPcpgONhYI/AAAAAAAAG9w/47lFPlmxBCA/s400/_DSC0064+Book+(1).jpg" width="265" /></a></td></tr>
<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">"<a href="http://en.wikipedia.org/wiki/Naiad">Naiad</a>", arising out of Strawberry Creek</td></tr>
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Staying with experience in nature, let me turn to my daily hunting ground, Stuart Street. I have never arrived in describing this before, but an enticing aspect of that street is its imposing alley of <a href="http://en.wikipedia.org/wiki/Cinnamomum_camphora">Camphor Trees</a>. Carefully trimmed, with the lower branches gone, they rise majestically far above the residences and sidewalks, providing welcome shading to the hikers and street gardens on sunny days. You can see some pictures of the trees and trunks in an earlier blog (<i><a href="http://emilems.blogspot.se/2010/04/flowers-dancing-in-rain.html">Flowers Dancing in the Rain</a></i>). Unfortunately, all of them are affected by a fungus (Verticillium) that will kill off the trees in the long term. I would hate to see them go; hopefully they will outlast my life-time. But let's get back to the main thread of this post!<br />
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One of those sunny days, when I was ambling below these impressive shadowing umbrellas, I suddenly felt the urge to look skyward, to admire the lofty airy crowns. Judge of my surprise when I saw, not only welcoming green leaves, but also a young girl placed smack up on one of the higher branches! She was as perplexed as I was, by having been discovered in the act, so to speak, of observing the passersby far below her. A moment of mutual silent observation ensued, before I could tear myself away and continue on my trodden path, leaving the young lady to her favorite pass-time.<br />
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<tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="http://1.bp.blogspot.com/-xKXbWGLlRWw/UAUiMJtb9UI/AAAAAAAAG98/hCPWB31vAp0/s1600/IMG_0016+Master.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" height="400" src="https://1.bp.blogspot.com/-xKXbWGLlRWw/UAUiMJtb9UI/AAAAAAAAG98/hCPWB31vAp0/s400/IMG_0016+Master.jpg" width="267" /></a></td></tr>
<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">"<a href="http://en.wikipedia.org/wiki/Dryad">Dryad</a>" resting on Camphor branch</td></tr>
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Lest you conclude that observing young ladies is my only pass-time, we should continue the tale on a different track, in terms of sex and age both. You may recall that I witnessed the celebration of the first Californian "Milk Day", back in 2010, in the San Francisco district of Castro (<i><a href="http://emilems.blogspot.se/2010/06/days-of-milk-and-honey.html">Days of Milk and Honey</a></i>).<br />
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Upon my return to Berkeley this year, I revisited the area with the aim to track down some persons pictured in that blog (to gift them a free copy of "Fiat Lux!"). Taking BART to Mission Station, I walked to Castro from there, strolling along 19th Street westward. Just when I arrived at the crossing of 19th and Castro, I saw this elegant couple striding confidently along the sidewalk, without any concern on their faces, despite a certain lack of civilisational accoutrement!<br />
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<tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="http://4.bp.blogspot.com/-dMD7wvK5nm0/UAUqtWXSbcI/AAAAAAAAG-I/W2i4yebHZW4/s1600/IMG_0062+Master.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" height="320" src="https://4.bp.blogspot.com/-dMD7wvK5nm0/UAUqtWXSbcI/AAAAAAAAG-I/W2i4yebHZW4/s400/IMG_0062+Master.jpg" width="400" /></a></td></tr>
<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">Two Gentlemen striding along Castro Street</td></tr>
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Ever since our first stay in Berkeley, back in 1976/77, a permanent fixture in my Californian Universe has been <i>Revalon Court</i>, two bungalow-like structures with apartments for rent on Stuart Street, just east of Shattuck Avenue. The owners, Masami and Nobuko Fujimoto, had become good friends and I was staying there again in 2010, as well as this year. Interestingly, a small Japanese Community has established itself on this small stretch of Stuart Street just east of Shattuck, with extension towards Oregon Street on the south. There was, before the war, a much larger, concentrated and vivid Japan Town and Community in Oakland, but that enclave had been dispersed, due to the war-time internment of all citizens of Japanese descent. After the war, resettlement took place in smaller patches distributed all over the East Bay.<br />
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Oregon Street, stretching in parallel to Stuart Street and being the next street to the south, is not one of my habitual walking streets. However once, on my way to a meeting with the <a href="http://emilems.blogspot.se/2012/04/grassroots-berkeley.html">Le Conte Neighborhood Association</a>, I passed by that area. Suddenly, across the street, a wondrous scene opened up before my eyes. Instead of the usual, well-groomed small trees and flower beds adorning Japanese residences, there resided a complacent Buddha, shaded by a colorful umbrella, as if contemplating and blessing this little Japanese Community!<br />
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<tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="http://4.bp.blogspot.com/-dHNQdMGf1qw/UAU04kY6ozI/AAAAAAAAG-U/OkGz-l_dwe8/s1600/IMG_0012+Duplet+Master+2+%25281%2529.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" height="400" src="https://4.bp.blogspot.com/-dHNQdMGf1qw/UAU04kY6ozI/AAAAAAAAG-U/OkGz-l_dwe8/s400/IMG_0012+Duplet+Master+2+%25281%2529.jpg" width="307" /></a></td></tr>
<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">Buddha on Oregon Street, guarding the Japanese Community</td></tr>
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In the same vein I met, during my present stay, an intriguing Japanese born artist, who graciously offered to help me distribute the book "Fiat Lux!". After having discussed this in her home in Kensington, she surprised me by stepping into a huge sculpture in her front yard.<br />
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I was completely taken aback by this configuration of a delicate and charming little woman within the "threatening" claws of an immense crab of her own creation!<br />
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<tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="http://4.bp.blogspot.com/-tvjboDGz4Ac/UAVsa0K1gVI/AAAAAAAAG-o/8tYF0BBtOwU/s1600/IMG_0008+Master.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" height="307" src="https://4.bp.blogspot.com/-tvjboDGz4Ac/UAVsa0K1gVI/AAAAAAAAG-o/8tYF0BBtOwU/s400/IMG_0008+Master.jpg" width="400" /></a></td></tr>
<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">Artist <a href="http://www.keikonelson.com/index1.html">Keiko Nelso</a>n in the throes of her own creation</td></tr>
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Nobuko, my landlady, made during my latest stay great efforts to introduce me to activities within the Japanese Community. For instance, she brought me along to a gymnastics exercise that took place every Wednesday in a neighborhood church. The exercise was led by a combined dance teacher, choreographer, dancer, singer and actor by the name of <a href="http://www.gilchun.com/">Gil Chun</a>. This amiable and multi-talented Gentleman led us on in a series of loosening-up exercises that did my aching limbs a lot of good. Most of the audience was of a mature age and consisted of friends of Nobuko. Always sitting to my right, a sprightly "youngster", albeit a lady of mature age like the rest of us, was showing us sloppies what supple limbs and a good constitution could do for your body. As an aside, the only other male member of the group was an amiable Oaklander named Ken who, together with his wife Rosario, gave great support to my book. Ken even introduced it to the Oakland Library and organized a book presentation in its Golden Gate Branch.<br />
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Little did I suspect that this Wednesday group exercise served as a preparatory training for a Japanese Dance Company. Realization dawned when I attended a performance of the "Bay Area Follies" at Roda Theatre in Berkeley on May 27. None else but Gil was the main leader of the performance and among several enticing sing and dance groups, suddenly, a troupe came to light on the scene by the name of "Yoko and the Sunshine Ladies". Yoko was of course the sprightly lady from the gymnastics exercises, now leading on a swirling circle of exotically dressed ladies, with Nobuko right in the middle of the melée! A sparkling performance indeed by my friends from the gymnastics exercise!<br />
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<tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="http://1.bp.blogspot.com/-r00NFnyyzcg/UAaCldin1AI/AAAAAAAAG-0/3sFAPsousPs/s1600/IMG_0012+Master.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" height="266" src="https://1.bp.blogspot.com/-r00NFnyyzcg/UAaCldin1AI/AAAAAAAAG-0/3sFAPsousPs/s400/IMG_0012+Master.jpg" width="400" /></a></td></tr>
<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">Yoko and the Sunshine Ladies, performing at "The Berkeley Follies".<br />
<b>Right</b>: Yoko Fitzpatrick <b>Middle</b>: Nobuko Fujimoto</td></tr>
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You may recall that I reported from a visit to the Berkeley City Club in an earlier post (<i><a href="http://emilems.blogspot.se/2012/04/female-endurance.html">Female Endurance</a></i>). There was no plan to return there for another photo session, since I was quite satisfied with the results of my first visit.<br />
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It so happened that I got a dinner invitation, in the last week of my visit to Berkeley, from an old friend from way back in my student days. She graciously invited me to a great Chinese dinner together with her family. Whilst giving me a ride back home from the restaurant, Lillian, that was her name, suddenly made a detour and parked on Durant Street behind the City Club. With the explanation that she had recently become a Member she enticed me to follow her on a tour of the premises. The Club certainly looked quite different in the evening hours, but enlightenment came when we stepped out onto the upper floor terrace and saw the view northeastward from the building. For a moment, I felt teleported to a Greek Island, with a church cupola serenely saluting distant mountains in the orange afterglow of a sun already set. Thanks again, Lillian, for a lovely dinner and for leading me to this magic view!<br />
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<tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="http://3.bp.blogspot.com/-bD4hxmoHBdI/UAaLbbYnZiI/AAAAAAAAG_M/zZveCKYwIrk/s1600/IMG_0011+Master_1.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" height="297" src="https://3.bp.blogspot.com/-bD4hxmoHBdI/UAaLbbYnZiI/AAAAAAAAG_M/zZveCKYwIrk/s400/IMG_0011+Master_1.jpg" width="400" /></a></td></tr>
<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">View from the upper terrace of the Berkeley City Club</td></tr>
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But down to Earth again! One of my favorite watering holes in Berkeley has always been Peet's Coffee & Tea on Telegraph Avenue. Many an hour have I spent there, sipping the coffee of the day and observing the amazing variety of customers frequenting the place. Once, in April 2010, I was taken by surprise to see a magic view of three companions, illuminated like in an early color movie by the backlight of the open café door. In my imagination, I envisaged two authors from the thirties, discussing their latest works, with their muse watching over them with amusement. The picture can still be seen in the blog post <i><a href="http://emilems.blogspot.se/2010/07/time-has-come.html">"The Time Has Come,"</a>.</i><br />
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This year, again, I was sipping my coffee in Peet's when, suddenly, I realised that a couple sitting quite close to me must have been among the persons in the above mentioned scene. I presented myself and learned, to my surprise, that my name was already known to them as photographer of the <a href="http://kareliadiaries.blogspot.se/">Karelia Blog</a>. We became good friends and it turned out that the husband, Joshua, was a film maker, as well as patron of the arts, and his wife E. an accomplished dress designer. The first time I visited their home for an unsurpassed dinner, Joshua received me with warm cordiality at the entrance door and led me up the stairs to the living room. Along the way, he suddenly pointed me to a window facing the backyard. Expecting to see a lawn, adorned with a multitude of flowers and brushes, as is usual in South Berkeley, I was flabbergasted to behold an immense structure of what can only be described as an ancient Chinese Astrolabe, filling the whole expanse. This construction, illuminated by the warm glow of the reflected late afternoon sun, appeared as a magic antidote to all the greenery I usually had the pleasure of observing and photographing in Berkeley.<br />
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<tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="http://3.bp.blogspot.com/-1C1aXa-mQms/UAfSknkDeMI/AAAAAAAAG_Y/FUX98wqhODY/s1600/IMG_0027+Master+(1).jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" height="333" src="https://3.bp.blogspot.com/-1C1aXa-mQms/UAfSknkDeMI/AAAAAAAAG_Y/FUX98wqhODY/s400/IMG_0027+Master+(1).jpg" width="400" /></a></td></tr>
<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">"Astrolabe" in a South Berkeley backyard</td></tr>
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This post started with a grand eagle's view of Berkeley and the Bay. Therefore it is only fitting, towards its end, to lower my eyes down to a more familiar perspective and start talking about flowery expanses again.<br />
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On my daily walks towards UCB, starting at my residence at Stuart Street, I used to proceed that street eastward until Telegraph Avenue, before changing direction northward towards Campus. But once, I took a different route, taking the first street on the left, called Fulton, on my way to a party further along that street, given by Nathan and Angela (<i><a href="http://emilems.blogspot.se/2012/04/venerable-veterans.html">Venerable Veterans</a></i>). It turned out that the flowery displays on Fulton were competing with those on Stuart in ingenuity and variance, so my eyes and camera were kept busy along the way. Suddenly, my steps came to an abrupt stop, and my eyes opened wide in surprise. In a garden a bit neglected and left to grow pretty much as it pleased, suddenly the front of a car from the 'thirties showed its forward nose to the eager photographer. An amazing piece of art within a general area of gentle neglect!<br />
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<tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="http://4.bp.blogspot.com/-30sd-uPoZGk/UAgXWaLV4nI/AAAAAAAAG_k/zHrKr3-2tmw/s1600/IMG_0003+Master_1.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" height="331" src="https://4.bp.blogspot.com/-30sd-uPoZGk/UAgXWaLV4nI/AAAAAAAAG_k/zHrKr3-2tmw/s400/IMG_0003+Master_1.jpg" width="400" /></a></td></tr>
<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">Death of a Chevrolet</td></tr>
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Let me round up this exposé with a more general remark on the magic of flowerbeds. When strolling along in the heat of midday, I usually try to avoid the sunny side of the street and keep on the cooler opposite side in shade. But you will find that even in shade, time and time again, rare and forlorn rays of light find their way from in between facades and trees and fall on selected stretches of the small street gardens. In rare cases this will give rise to a view that most aptly can be described as "the fingers of God, pointing to the magic of his creation". I hope you agree with me that the picture below is a telling example of this magic.</div>
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<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">God's Fingers ...</td></tr>
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With regret I have to tell you that we are approaching the end of not only the present post, but also of the blog itself.<br />
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Still, one piece of magic remains to be told. It concerns my life's largest project, that is, nought else but the two trips I made to the Bay Area in present time and the experiences I gained – and regained – during those trips. Who would have expected in, say, 2009, that I would spend all in all 6 months in the Bay Area in the near future, write a blog of 52 Chapters about my experiences, take more than 10000 pictures along the way, write a book about it all and revisit the area with 100 copies of the book in tow. This is magic on a grand scale indeed! And none of it was planned beforehand, it all developed on the go, so to speak, as actions, urged upon my be circumstances and my subconscious, were being met by responses from a generous Bay Community, as well as a Community of blog commentators, spurning me on with a vengeance and inspiring me to great deeds!<br />
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So I think you understand that I am looking at the end of this adventure with a great sense of loss. But there is a consolation in all this. Even if I have left the Bay Area – and who knows if I ever will be coming back – 100 copies of my <a href="http://openlibrary.org/works/OL16621853W/FIAT_LUX!_Down_Memory_Lane_in_California">book (Fiat Lux! Down Memory Lane in California)</a> still live and strive in the US and bear witness to my fascination with this benighted place on Earth. Long may you live and prosper, my dear brain children, and bring joy and appreciation to your proud new parents! To those that have not yet got acquainted with my spiritual offspring, all is not lost: there is the possibility to order the book from abroad at <a href="http://emsvision.com/">emsvision.com</a>. On that website there is also the opportunity to read chapters of the book; together with a slideshow of all the pictures (even more than in the book); and even read and inspect some bonus material not included in the book.<br />
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For the Swedish readers: the book can easily be bought from <a href="http://www.bokus.com/bok/9789198009606/fiat-lux-down-memory-lane-in-california/">BOKUS</a> or <a href="http://www.litenupplaga.se/1429">Liten Upplaga.</a><br />
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What more remains to be said, besides "Thank you and Goodbye!"? Don't rush me, dear readers, a main point has still to be made. During all my trips to the Bay Area, there was one single important fact that made my stays the more agreeable. It can most aptly be described as "The Kindness of Strangers". Ever since my student days in the seventies, I have consistently been met by warm generosity in all my contacts with residents in Berkeley, as well as elsewhere in the Bay Area. It appears, that this welcome of strangers is a trait truly American, and a trait rather surprising for us from the old continent. I am heartfelt grateful for this generous reception of myself, not only as a young student, but even as a visitor of advanced age. Too numerous are the warm benefactors to mention them all here, but they are all represented in the blog – in picture, with name or both. Thank you all again, from the bottom of my heart, for your kindness and welcoming. Your generous assistance gives me the courage to say:<br />
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<span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family: inherit;">You opened your angel's arms</span></div>
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<span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family: inherit;">A stranger no more.</span></div>
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Emil Emshttp://www.blogger.com/profile/07815643585218883358noreply@blogger.com11tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-2242228370300474063.post-77644113959213993342012-05-28T20:21:00.000+02:002015-07-05T23:49:36.998+02:00IT'S POTLUCK TIME!<div dir="ltr" style="text-align: left;" trbidi="on">
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Time to get our attention back down to Earth from the lofty cupolas. But this time, we are not gazing at flowers, at least not directly: rather, people, in their most neighborly activity, is what we will be studying.<br />
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The cosy neighbors of Stuart Street, organized in <a href="http://emilems.blogspot.com/2012/04/how-to-create-and-preserve-nice.html">SNAP</a>, arrange a street party twice a year or more, called a "Potluck". For us Europeans, this means you bring your own food and drink and have a ball around a large common table. The place for this event is the street segment just above the signs you see in the above picture, the barrier fending off any unwelcome motorists who might interfere in the general fun.<br />
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I had heard this party mentioned some time ago, but it had slipped my mind until, Saturday last, I got the feeling in the morning of having missed something important. Sure enough, soon I got an e-mail from Mugur, Karl's partner, that a potluck was in preparation. Off I rushed, grabbing a bottle of wine on my way out, eager not to miss the fun. Karl was just about to put the above signs on the street, blocking off the second segment of Stuart Street between Fulton and Ellsworth.<br />
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No sign of a party yet, but, further up the street I could glimpse some activities on the roundabout at Ellsworth. It turned out that the good neighbors of Stuart had found it fruitful to start the event by doing a bit of gardening on the flowerbeds there. This gave me a sudden flash-back to the co-operative on Myrstuguberget in Huddinge, where I used to own a small house, and where all of us partners used to clean the commons twice a year.<br />
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<i style="font-weight: bold;">Architect: </i>Ralph Erskine <i style="font-weight: bold;">Photographer: </i><a href="http://www.flickr.com/photos/ambercroft_lundehund/3551660244/in/set-72157618629341244/">Ambercroft</a></td></tr>
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It was heart-warming to see how, even in this the most individualistic country of them all, there was a vivid community spirit expressing itself in the neighborhood.<br />
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Whilst this was going on, other participants started to put tables and chairs on the street, under the warm sunshine of a Californian morning. I was a bit ashamed of having brought only wine, but this did not prevent me from savoring all the delicious food being served smack on the street and having a good time, whilst observing the local mores.</div>
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In contrast to us Swedes (counting even myself among this tacit crowd) the Stuart residents are a mighty talkative bunch. During the meal, the latest news were being traded and an easy sense of comradeship reigned over this small enclave. With the food and drink all finished, and when us Swedes would tend to leave for home, the real fun began with a great round of story telling and joke rendering, to the great amusement of all of us. But why spill unnecessary words on this; better let the pictures below do the telling. But, dear readers, stay tuned; there is more text to come after those pictures!</div>
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Thank you, dear readers, for staying with me on the blog post. I would now like to take the occasion to present to you two Master Gardeners that happen to live opposite each other on that special stretch of Stuart Street where we are having the Potluck. Both have earned rewards from the City for their innovative and sustainable street gardens. The Gentleman below is Wilbur Hoff who, together with his partner Kris, keeps a wonderland of many flowered buds in front of his house. The small marvels are native plants, who are economical, if not to say parsimonious in their use of water. You see him standing in his backyard, who is no less colorful than the front. </div>
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Not to be bested by his friend and close neighbor, the Gentleman below has chosen quite a different route towards sustainable gardening. Karl Reeh, already well known to you from earlier blog posts, has, together with his late partner Jerry Rodgers built up what I only can describe as a kind of South-East Asian jungle, with bamboo trees, banana trees and all, and so densely cultivated that his house can hardly be seen within this green overwhelmingness.<br />
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I am lifting my cap to these two floriculturists. But the story would not be complete without recalling a third Magnus of all things flowery: Rudi Schmid, Professor in Botany, retired from UCB and editor of a prominent journal in the field. You have met him already in an earlier blog post (<i><a href="http://emilems.blogspot.se/2012/05/lofty-parks.html">Lofty Parks</a></i>). Between the three of them, you would be hard put to get a question about gardening and the flowers therein unanswered, let me assure you!</div>
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Emil Emshttp://www.blogger.com/profile/07815643585218883358noreply@blogger.com0Stuart Street, Berkeley, CA, USA37.8588861 -122.2641350999999837.8338126 -122.30447559999998 37.8839596 -122.22379459999998tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-2242228370300474063.post-53599373042819455342012-05-26T10:49:00.000+02:002012-06-14T17:11:37.309+02:00COPIOUS CUPOLAS<div dir="ltr" style="text-align: left;" trbidi="on">
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For quite some time now I have been content to let the blog deal with Berkeley, and focus on matters of smaller and smaller dimension. I trust you agree with me that it is time for a break. Let's look at grander schemes for once and let's move across the Bay.</div>
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San Francisco is among the younger great cities in the US. You know which is the oldest, still on-going, city founded by Westerners, don't you? In case you hesitate, let me tell you that it is <i style="font-weight: bold;">St. Augustine </i>(Florida), founded in 1565. Many people believe it to be Santa Fé, but that city is only the oldest <i>State Capital</i>. Interestingly, Santa Fé could as easily be named San Francisco as Frisco itself, since its full name is <i>La Villa Real de la Santa Fé de San Francisco de Asis</i>!</div>
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Now back to San Francisco: as already its name indicates, it too was founded by the Spaniards, way back in 1776, as the Mission and Presidio <i>San Francisco de Asis</i>. It essentially remained a small, contented, settlement, as first the Mexicans and then the US took possession, and it may have remained so, had the Gold Rush not occurred. That turmoil, succeeded by a silver rush and the arrival of the Pacific Railroad, turned this quiet corner of the West almost overnight into a mighty metropole.</div>
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A sure sign of the boisterousness of this turnaround was the megalomaniac building frenzy creating that intriguing city. As an example, construction of a mighty <i>City Hall </i>started in the second half of the 1800s; after 27 years of labour, the Hall opened finally in 1899. It surely must have been the largest building in the world in those pre-Pentagon days! Its potent cupola was intentionally designed to outpace the one of the Capitol in Washington DC. Visitors stood stupefied at the view of this colossal city administration.<br />
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Alas, how are the mighty fallen! Barely seven years after the building stood ready, in its virginal glory, the great earthquake of 1906 put an early end to it! As the smoke after the succeeding holókaustos cleared, just the smoking barebones of the hybristic monument remained. And not only this once mighty building, the whole of San Francisco lay in smoking ruins! </div>
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Occupants of a normal city may have given up hope at that stage and moved their residence elsewhere. In fact, some did, and the rise of Oakland on the opposite part of the Bay bears witness to such moves. In spite of this San Francisco, in a spirit of utmost indefatigability, reshaped itself in record time, in a great rush of renewed building frenzy. After a short period of only nine years, the city's administrative and commercial centers were standing again, proud and shining, to welcome the great <i>Pacific Exposition </i>of 1915. As an example, the City Hall was rebuilt within the record time of only two years and finished in time for the Exposition. </div>
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This time around, it was decided to give the building more harmonious proportions, in line with the neo-classic design ambitions of the Californian "Gründerzeit". You may recall that this was the time, when most of the traditional buildings of the UCB Campus were being designed and built (<i><a href="http://emilems.blogspot.se/2012/05/pearl-in-crown.html">The Jewel in the Crown</a>). </i>The Architect was <a href="http://en.wikipedia.org/wiki/Arthur_Brown,_Jr.">Arthur Brown</a>, a graduate of the Ecole des Beaux Arts in Paris, just like <a href="http://emilems.blogspot.se/2012/04/female-endurance.html">Julia Morgan</a>. As a result, the building is smaller than the original one, even if it still ranges over two city blocks, and the builders have kept the ambition to have its cupola outpace that of the Capitol in Washington DC. </div>
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Will the new building be prepared to withstand major earthquakes, in contrast to its predecessors? Unfortunately, Arthur was no Julia and lacked her keen engineering sense of "building to last". The <i>Loma Prieta Earthquake </i>of 1989, although considerably milder than the one of 1906, still did considerable damage to the City Hall. The dome turned 10 cm like the cap of a soft drink bottle and there were damages to the main building supports. </div>
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<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;"><i style="font-weight: bold;">Left</i>: Capitol Building, Washington DC <i style="font-weight: bold;">Right</i>: City Hall, San Francisco</td></tr>
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As a sign of the true pioneer spirit of America, still in existence in any time of need, a grand solution was found to isolate the building against future earthquake damages. The whole complex was separated from its foundations, sawing through the walls so to speak, and lifted up a meter or two. Thereupon, a great number of huge steel reinforced "rubber balls" were forced into the gap, leaving the building to rest on them. The idea behind is that the wave undulations caused by the earthquake would be dampened, if not obliterated, by the rubber balls, keeping the main building more or less isolated from the quake. </div>
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Impressive as it may be, the building completely escaped my attention during my early student days in Berkeley. Youth strives for adventures and happenings, rather than the patient contemplation of building plans and edifices. But two years ago I had finally matured enough to become interested in this quite remarkable building. This was when I attended the annual Cherry Blossom Festival in the town, which is starting off straight in the front of the main entrance. After an admiring glance at its wall of columns, superseded by the cupola of cupolas, glittering in the sun with its bands of golden stripes, I promised myself to take a closer look at this the most impressive among all city halls at my earliest convenience. Alas, this promise was sorely forgotten, but it resurfaced at the present visit to California, so within the second week of my stay, I decided to pay it a visit. </div>
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<a href="http://3.bp.blogspot.com/-WxPllPnUdJI/T9S6sa5uXHI/AAAAAAAAG7o/wv5JR0r4fF0/s1600/DSCN0222+as+panorama+Master+(2).jpg" imageanchor="1" style="clear: left; float: left; margin-bottom: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" height="640" src="http://3.bp.blogspot.com/-WxPllPnUdJI/T9S6sa5uXHI/AAAAAAAAG7o/wv5JR0r4fF0/s640/DSCN0222+as+panorama+Master+(2).jpg" width="410" /></a></div>
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When striding through the main entrance, I was surprised by the ease and informality of access. A friendly lady at the information desk asked me to go through the, nowadays prevalent, screening frame but, otherwise, I was completely left to my own devices. Not only that, I was also more or less the only one standing in the main hall and admiring the surroundings. Compare that with the company of hundreds and hundreds of tourists crowding you if you dare enter the Capitol Building in Washington DC. </div>
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The large picture above was taken on the top of the broad staircase that leads the visitor up to the main floor and the Chamber of Supervisors. You can see a glimpse of the stairs going up in the title picture. More importantly, follow my eyes to have a look at the middle opening on the first floor opposite to where I am standing. Within it you can glimpse the door to the mayor's office and, with a bit of imagination, believe to hear the thunder of a revolver being shot at poor George Moscone, who was killed by Supervisor White precisely there back in 1978, soon to be followed by poor Harvey Milk. On a more positive note, Marilyn Monroe was married there to Joe DiMaggio in 1954.</div>
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<a href="http://3.bp.blogspot.com/-12J-nYiGCwM/T9cUsTn2W-I/AAAAAAAAG78/n7H4jEiLVBE/s1600/DSCN0230+Master+2_1.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="clear: left; float: left; margin-bottom: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" height="257" src="http://3.bp.blogspot.com/-12J-nYiGCwM/T9cUsTn2W-I/AAAAAAAAG78/n7H4jEiLVBE/s400/DSCN0230+Master+2_1.jpg" width="400" /></a></div>
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A lot could be said about City Hall's splendor, but I leave it to you to discover, first hand, what a marvelous building this is. Let's instead exit the Hall at the main entrance and take a stroll toward BART from there. There are two Plazas here to await our attention. The first, adjacent to the City Hall, is called Civic Center Plaza. It is a bit peculiar. Comprising a huge space of fully two city blocks, it looks curiously empty and waiting to be filled with imaginative landscaping. I am sure that Fredrick Law Olmsted could have made a spectacular park out of this expanse if he would have been engaged to that effect. Instead, the Plaza seems to have been left as prey to the City Fathers' fancy at any given time period. At present, it looks to me like a large exercise field for the army, with trees aligned in the middle of it like rows of a platoon standing at attention to be inspected!</div>
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In contrast, the UN Plaza, which is considerably smaller in size, is kept more enticing and intriguing by a series of monuments and fountains, some serious, some funky (see picture above right) but all cooperating in keeping the visitor, sauntering about, engaged and in a good mood. </div>
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<a href="http://4.bp.blogspot.com/-onkv78Swo0U/T9cU4zhqnsI/AAAAAAAAG8E/btYJD6DomUc/s1600/DSCN0239+Master.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" height="400" src="http://4.bp.blogspot.com/-onkv78Swo0U/T9cU4zhqnsI/AAAAAAAAG8E/btYJD6DomUc/s400/DSCN0239+Master.jpg" width="291" /></a></div>
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You may well ask why that space is called UN Plaza. In fact, the UN Charter was signed in San Francisco, back in 1945, albeit not on that precise spot. The proper locality is the War Memorial Opera House, which lies on the other side of the City Hall, quite some distance away. The Opera House is also the locality for another historic event; the Treaty of San Francisco was signed there in 1951, officially ending the Second World War. </div>
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Proceeding along UN Plaza, we soon arrive towards its end, where a last fountain beckons towards Market Street and the city hubbub beyond. To see what I mean, place yourself on the other side of the fountain in the picture above. Looking towards the fountain, you will see a peaceful scene, with sea gulls – or are they pigeons – enjoying the pearly spray. </div>
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Turning your back to the fountain, you may be surprised by the abrupt change of scenery. Vagrrants share the benches with the same gulls/pigeons and in the distance you glimpse the destitute parts of Market Street, far south of the commercial center's urban elegance and hoping for better times!</div>
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<br /></div>Emil Emshttp://www.blogger.com/profile/07815643585218883358noreply@blogger.com5tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-2242228370300474063.post-70907764883030437632012-05-25T20:14:00.000+02:002012-05-26T19:03:05.429+02:00THE IMPORTANCE OF TENDING TO SIDEWALKS<div dir="ltr" style="text-align: left;" trbidi="on">
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Aging leads sometimes to surprising insights. Only two years ago, when visiting Berkeley last, I felt like a great adventurer, roaming widely over the East Bay, searching out experience after experience, never tiring of exploring new localities. This time around, it seems as if the brain has decided to slow down the pace. I do not feel that great urge anymore to venture forth into new terrain; instead, I am enjoying a daily ambling walk along the cosy little streets of South Berkeley, returning, more or less, to the same streets over and over again.<br />
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<a href="http://2.bp.blogspot.com/-Qy5v30BGmPo/T75-GNUyWqI/AAAAAAAAGzk/_A0Qyj9Ed9Y/s1600/IMG_0008+Master.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="clear: left; float: left; margin-bottom: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" height="281" src="http://2.bp.blogspot.com/-Qy5v30BGmPo/T75-GNUyWqI/AAAAAAAAGzk/_A0Qyj9Ed9Y/s400/IMG_0008+Master.jpg" width="400" /></a></div>
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You may well ask yourself this: what is the special charm of those streets that entices your blogger to endless explorations? There is no easy answer to this, but I will make an effort nonetheless, since the answer has a bearing, more in general, on what makes a city street pleasurable to walk along. The future of the US may well depend on a good answer, since the ever increasing cost of petrol could bring about a change in people's behavior. At present, if I understand the mentality of the people around here right, you take the car as soon as the distance to cover extends to more than half a kilometer (a quarter of a mile). For me, this is just a short stroll before breakfast, to get an appetite so to speak. The more people start to walk, the more they will appreciate – and request – a pleasurable walking environment.<br />
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<a href="http://1.bp.blogspot.com/-_t6XMTctXtY/T75-SK-vHlI/AAAAAAAAGzs/Km3ORoqDkR8/s1600/IMG_0037+Master.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="clear: left; float: left; margin-bottom: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" height="312" src="http://1.bp.blogspot.com/-_t6XMTctXtY/T75-SK-vHlI/AAAAAAAAGzs/Km3ORoqDkR8/s400/IMG_0037+Master.jpg" width="400" /></a></div>
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So what is the answer to the above riddle? I think it is best given by looking at some pictures. Consider the two views below. They have been taken last week, whilst standing on the corner of Stuart and Ellsworth Streets in South Berkeley. The left view shows Stuart Street going west; the right one Ellsworth Street going north. Now I ask you, which one would you rather use as your favorite ambling route? To get a better look, please double click on the pictures. Isn't the answer obvious? And isn't that an important message for city planners?<br />
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<a href="http://4.bp.blogspot.com/-rtQVsNrsAEs/T759w4F1uHI/AAAAAAAAGzc/j9IMQxP8ZAo/s1600/IMG_0032-2+Duplet+Master.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="clear: left; float: left; margin-bottom: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" height="191" src="http://4.bp.blogspot.com/-rtQVsNrsAEs/T759w4F1uHI/AAAAAAAAGzc/j9IMQxP8ZAo/s400/IMG_0032-2+Duplet+Master.jpg" width="400" /></a></div>
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It took me five visits to South Berkeley, in 1976/77, 1980, 1981, 2010 and the present stay, to consciously figure out the difference. Whenever I am in town, I tend to navigate towards Campus around noon. Although Ellsworth Street would be the obvious route to take, I have always subconsciously avoided it, instead mounting Stuart Street all the way to Telegraph Avenue and taking it from there. Never imagined that there was a reason for the deviation. </div>
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The flash of enlightenment came in a conversation with Karl, my omniscient source of information about all things connected to South Berkeley. He pointed out to me that the City of Berkeley had a special régime concerning the stretch of residential side walks facing the street. The City undertakes to planting trees there, but leaves the fringe between the trees unpaved, trusting the residents in the houses located along that fringe to do their neighborly duty.</div>
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<a href="http://1.bp.blogspot.com/-TXLa9K0InAM/T7_K8nE15QI/AAAAAAAAG0U/5z-88PM0djQ/s1600/IMG_0072+Master.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="clear: left; float: left; margin-bottom: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" height="300" src="http://1.bp.blogspot.com/-TXLa9K0InAM/T7_K8nE15QI/AAAAAAAAG0U/5z-88PM0djQ/s400/IMG_0072+Master.jpg" width="400" /></a>Of course, not all residents have the sense of civic responsibility to tend to this fringe. Some simply pave it over, others just let the grass grow as it pleases. But there exist oases of cosy neighborhoods, where the residents really care for their stretches. Two blocks of Stuart Street appear to contain an abundance of such neighbors. The result is astounding! Ambling in those blocks is, by turns, like visiting a botanical garden, entering a tunnel of greenery, now accosting a bamboo jungle, now ... The variation is seemingly endless and the untended or paved over stretches are far between. </div>
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I find especially pleasing those parts of the sidewalk, where residents consider it as an extension of their front garden, and make a conscious choice of landscaping the whole ensemble in a pleasing composite. Let me show how two neighbors, opposite each other, have found different, but equally pleasing, solutions to this challenge.</div>
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<a href="http://3.bp.blogspot.com/-_e3xJeO8fiY/T7-4a5xnkqI/AAAAAAAAG0A/N5UCYQpKIuQ/s1600/IMG_0043+Master.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="clear: left; float: left; margin-bottom: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" height="275" src="http://3.bp.blogspot.com/-_e3xJeO8fiY/T7-4a5xnkqI/AAAAAAAAG0A/N5UCYQpKIuQ/s400/IMG_0043+Master.jpg" width="400" /></a></div>
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The above example shows the mirroring approach, with the fringe matching – flower by flower – the front garden. This creates the illusion of walking on a path within a larger botanical garden, very pleasing to the eye. The example below shows how the resident on the opposite side, having remade his front garden effectively into a jungle of bamboos and similar vegetation, continues his creative build-up by shaping a kind of vertical garden on the sidewalk's fringe, constantly increasing the size of the mound by adding new planting material. Only the growl of the tiger is missing in this illusion of South East Asian greenery! We amble in admiration among these many facetted signs of gardening creativity!</div>
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</div>Emil Emshttp://www.blogger.com/profile/07815643585218883358noreply@blogger.com4tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-2242228370300474063.post-4052010736575816542012-05-20T21:23:00.001+02:002012-06-16T11:46:43.666+02:00THE JEWEL IN THE CROWN<div dir="ltr" style="text-align: left;" trbidi="on">
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<a href="http://4.bp.blogspot.com/-B16vUMPyFAQ/T7mSblLdfQI/AAAAAAAAGzE/oP91rVEAA3Y/s1600/IMG_0048+Mining+Master_1.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="clear: left; float: left; margin-bottom: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" height="291" src="http://4.bp.blogspot.com/-B16vUMPyFAQ/T7mSblLdfQI/AAAAAAAAGzE/oP91rVEAA3Y/s400/IMG_0048+Mining+Master_1.jpg" width="400" /></a></div>
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The University at Berkeley never ceases to amaze me. You may wonder what comes next; but bear with me, it takes some warming up to arrive at the topic of today. </div>
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Three weeks ago, I received some visitors from back home in Austria. They were the more welcome since they were from Knittelfeld, hometown of my dear godmother Steffi. Last year, I was on a <a href="http://emilskitchenwindow.blogspot.com/2011/08/climb-every-mountain.html">seven days' pilgrimage</a>, starting from my birthplace, to see her. To my dismay, she was in bad health already then and has since passed away. The visitors came to participate in the Big Sur Marathon and combine this with a sight-seeing tour in the Southwest. Concentrated as I am on Berkeley and its wonders, I enticed them to take a hike around Campus with me. Here they are, sitting on the stairs leading up to the Campanile.</div>
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<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;"><b><i>Front:</i></b> Andy and Margit (Steffi's younger daughter), and Marathon companion<br />
<b><i>Back:</i></b> Ingrid (who accompanied me on part of my <a href="http://emilskitchenwindow.blogspot.com/2011/08/climb-every-mountain.html">pilgrimage</a>), and Marathon companion</td></tr>
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When ambling upwards (eastwards) on Campus, I usually take a southern route, since I have a particular fondness for the <a href="http://emilems.blogspot.com/2010/06/wilderness-ucb.html">wilder parts of UCB</a>, which are found along South Fork of Strawberry Creek. But with the guests in tow, I chose to go more northward on this guided tour, along Memorial Glade and upwards from there. Suddenly, we arrived at a place that I never had bothered to look at closely, usually rushing by on my way elsewhere. This was a small glade called<a href="http://geoimages.berkeley.edu/GeoImages/QTVR/Berkeley/MiningCircleL.html"> Mining Circle</a>. There is an elevation in the middle of this circular place, overgrown with grass. We happened to mount it and found, to our great surprise, that there was a <b style="font-style: italic;">pond </b>on its crest, impossible to see from below. And – lo and behold! – the most enticing building was greeting us from opposite the puddle, mirrored splendidly in the water, which was only slightly disturbed by a light breeze.</div>
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It turned out the we had stumbled on the Hearst Memorial Mining Building, dedicated to the father of Randolph Hearst, who was a successful entrepreneur in the gold and silver mining business. We briefly entered the building and were as enchanted by its interior as by the building's reflection. Since that memorable discovery I have spent some time researching and documenting the building and it turns out that it has some interesting facts to tell us. </div>
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What looks like a beautiful, albeit relatively small marvel of a building, is in fact the very first edifice erected within the Original Campus Master Plan for the University. This grand name is grand for a reason. Towards the end of the 1800s a new competitor was emerging on the Peninsula, Stanford. The promoters of Berkeley saw with distress that widow Stanford was financing architectural masterpiece after architectural masterpiece in Palo Alto, whereas Berkeley only had South and North Hall to show for it. </div>
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This irked especially another immensely rich widow, Phoebe Hearst, the mother of Randolph Hearst. In a remarkable act of female one-upmanship she financed an international architect competition to design the University's future architectural embellishments. This competition was held in Antwerp in Belgium in 1898 and won by architect Emile Bénard.</div>
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This gentleman, being French, refused to come to California and implement his plan, but a formidable replacement was found in architect John Galen Howard. He held the position of Supervising Architect of the Master Plan and kept it until his death in 1931 at the age of 67. Under his stewardship all the beautiful buildings in white stone (in classical revival style) adorning Campus were put up. To mention a few: the University Library, the Campanile, Wheeler Hall, Sather Gate, all financed out of the wealthy widow's burse. </div>
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I dearly would like to be transported back to the mid-thirties, to benefit from the marvelous and lofty views that Campus provided in those days. After Galen's (and Phoebe's) death, this prosperous architectural period came to an end. Phoebe's son, Randolph Hearst, kept on financing the odd building after that, but soon redirected his interests towards San Simeon. </div>
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<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">Mining Hall, details designed by Julia Morgan</td></tr>
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The building activities after Berkeley's golden age are a sad story. The 'fifties and 'sixties saw a rapid expansion of edifices, every new one uglier than its predecessor; as a result, Campus is nowadays presenting itself to the world as an architectural cacophony, where one has to make an effort looking sideways more often than not, to neglect the bad whilst still appreciating the good. Don't misunderstand me now: UCB is still a marvelous place to visit, even if I am deploring the loss of opportunities to make it a marvel of harmonized architecture. The more to applaud that some of the worst offenders, for example this one just opposite the Mining Hall, are about to be torn down, hopefully to be replaced by buildings more in line with the Grand Master Plan and agreeable to the eye. </div>
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I see that you are getting impatient and longing for a return to today's topic. Not to worry, from now on this post is concentrating on Mining Hall. As I said above, this was the first building by Galen within the Master Plan. This is somewhat amazing, when comparing its style with that of Galen's other buildings, built thereafter. The first one looks distinctly more modern than the latter ones! Even if it has six Dorian columns incorporated into the facade. the remainder looks distinctly Art Nouveau. How could this be? A possible answer is that Galen used a valiant young assistant in the design of the building, trusting her with drawing the facade's accoutrements as well as the structure of the main hall. Who was this enterprising young architect? None else but Julia Morgan, whom we have met already (see "<a href="http://emilems.blogspot.com/2012/04/female-endurance.html">Female Endurance</a>").</div>
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We can imagine that Julia, fresh from having received her diploma in Paris, was eager to demonstrate what she had learned abroad. Not only that, she probably was at the peak of her youthful creativity! Have a look at the formidable interior of Mining Building's main hall below. Isn't it a shame that earthquake risks forced Julia to discard with the Iron Pillar Technique applied by her Art Nouveau contemporaries in Europe and instead become the foremost pioneer of reinforced concrete in California? Had she stayed in Europe, she certainly, in my view, could have designed Master Houses at par with those of Victor Horta, the foremost of our Art Nouveauists!</div>
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Unfortunately, this was not to be. Concrete as building material does not lend itself to the type of slender, almost ephemeral houses that Art Nouveau at its best could give birth to. On the other hand, what is lost in delicacy is gained in sustainability and for a building to be able to survive even severe earthquakes, whilst still exhibiting architectural aesthetics, must be counted as a formidable achievement by this among the greatest of California's architects.</div>
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</div>Emil Emshttp://www.blogger.com/profile/07815643585218883358noreply@blogger.com1tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-2242228370300474063.post-57118718532884318232012-05-15T03:27:00.001+02:002012-07-19T17:24:29.127+02:00HEAVENLY THUNDERS<div dir="ltr" style="text-align: left;" trbidi="on">
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I feel there is need for some rest from the lofty themes, so permit me to sneak in a topic from the lower Berkeley ranges for a change. This does not mean that the intermission be lowly. Far from it! This blog is about a great choir and orchestra that drew me out from a temporary melancholic lethargy and made me whole again.<br />
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In fact, this is the second time I am blessed with a choir performance during my various stays in Berkeley. You may recall my enthusiastic response to the performance of the San Francisco Symphony Chorus two years ago ("<a href="http://emilems.blogspot.com/2010/04/heavenly-choir.html">Heavenly Choir</a>"). Now it was time to listen to its East Bay Counterpart, the Berkeley Community Chorus and Orchestra. It is difficult to judge which of them is the more impressive, so don't let us be drawn into a discussion about this. Suffice it to say that both are grandiose. It is a miracle indeed to witness their performance at full blast, when 144 souls (in San Francisco) or more than two hundred (in Berkeley) open their golden throats and let mellow tones fill the universe.<br />
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The Berkeley event I am hinting at was a performance, last Sunday, of Antonin Dvorak's famous Requiem, with full orchestra, four eminent vocal soloists and, last but not least, the magnificent full bodied Berkeley Chorus. For those not familiar with Antonin's piece, its demanding orchestration and chorusation hardly leads itself to be played at funeral masses. Let's face it, this is a concert piece, if ever there was one. That notwithstanding, at least part of it was played at President Havel's funeral mass. It is said that some Member of the audience questioned whether the lover of Velvet Underground and Rolling Stones would have wanted the soaring grandeur of this Requiem at his funeral. He surely must be mistaken. Not only was Vaclav a true Czech and would not dream of putting aside Antonin, the createst Czech (actually Bohemian) musician of them all. In addition, Vaclav, as anyone else the least familiar with Antonin, would certainly have recalled the important role the composer played in advancing modern music American style.<br />
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I was lucky to get to know about this performance in time and have again to thank Karl Reeh for that. One of his garden friends is a Chorus Member who encouraged us to witness this extraordinary performance and Karl was kind enough to take me along in his car. The venue for the event was the large Catholic church of St. Joseph on Addison Street. With its lightly colored interior and aptly vaulted ceiling, not to forget the beautiful glass windows above the altar, it appeared as an appropriate counterpoint to the music. In a way, it reminded us about a rosy late sunshine sky, not unlike those painted by Caspar David Friedrich; against such a romantic background, the wrath of God on Dies Irae would appear the more frightening. And forceful and frightening indeed was the first half of the performance. The full blast of the Chorus sounded like God's Thunder powering down at us with a force that seemed to shake the very fundaments of the church. Thankfully, Antonin's score provided for an intermission, which we put to good use for cleansing body (with coffee) and soul after this onslaught of sounds.<br />
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The second part of the performance went in a calmer, more lyrical vain, which helped us come to terms with the inevitable end of our existence, and left us cushioned in God's Mercy rather than defenseless under God's Wrath.<br />
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What an afternoon, never to be forgotten!</div>Emil Emshttp://www.blogger.com/profile/07815643585218883358noreply@blogger.com2tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-2242228370300474063.post-49507105556688321692012-05-12T21:16:00.000+02:002012-05-17T08:58:35.761+02:00LOFTY PARKS<div dir="ltr" style="text-align: left;" trbidi="on">
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<a href="http://4.bp.blogspot.com/-gFWLPo4IsM4/T6_mx_XI_PI/AAAAAAAAGt8/haJLUAPnl64/s1600/Blake+Garden+1924+Master.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="clear: left; float: left; margin-bottom: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" height="308" src="http://4.bp.blogspot.com/-gFWLPo4IsM4/T6_mx_XI_PI/AAAAAAAAGt8/haJLUAPnl64/s400/Blake+Garden+1924+Master.jpg" width="400" /></a></div>
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Let me start this post with an ancient picture for a change. It shows the beginning of the creation of a great park in the El Cerrito hills, located in the community of Kensington. The year is 1924, I believe, and we see an Italian style grotto already built, with nice bowed stairways surrounding it and a prolonged pool to mirror the grotto in. The view is from a newly-built mansion; standing on grotto's roof, you might have seen a cosy reflection of the building in this lengthy watery mirror.<br />
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We can forget the architectural aspects of the picture for a moment and consider the landscape above it. It shows, in an instructive manner, the East Bay hills before the building frenzy started. We are seeing a bucolic grassland, only sparcely intersected by groves of native trees, mostly oaks, where brooks are gurgling or underground aquifers provide the necessary moisture. Now compare this with the view I took ten days ago from approximately the same angle:<br />
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<tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="http://1.bp.blogspot.com/-w1o0cKDaiCE/T6_opFkEPDI/AAAAAAAAGuE/3yg7MIRIJPQ/s1600/IMG_0033+blake+Duplet+Master.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" height="333" src="http://1.bp.blogspot.com/-w1o0cKDaiCE/T6_opFkEPDI/AAAAAAAAGuE/3yg7MIRIJPQ/s400/IMG_0033+blake+Duplet+Master.jpg" width="400" /></a></td></tr>
<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;"><b><i>Trees</i></b>: Magnolia grandiflora (Southern Magnolia) <b><i>Water</i></b>: Nymphaea (Water lily)</td></tr>
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As we can see, the scenery has completely changed. The distant hills are no longer visible and, in any case, no longer an open landscape; rather, in the immediate distance, an extended park landscape can be glimpsed. Further upwards, smaller private residences abound until, beyond the crest, Tilden Park is taking charge over nature.<br />
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<tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="http://1.bp.blogspot.com/-u1mZBiwktWM/T6_td3SWfaI/AAAAAAAAGuQ/D74OWzrwVcI/s1600/IMG_0083+Blake+Duplet+Master.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" height="197" src="http://1.bp.blogspot.com/-u1mZBiwktWM/T6_td3SWfaI/AAAAAAAAGuQ/D74OWzrwVcI/s400/IMG_0083+Blake+Duplet+Master.jpg" width="400" /></a></td></tr>
<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;"><b><i>Left:</i></b> Berberis (Barberry) <b><i>Right:</i></b> Acanthus mollis (Bear's breech)</td></tr>
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Does the title picture show us the original landscape of the East Bay, before White Man entered the scene? Far from it! The pre-Columbian days saw no open grassland on those hills; they were covered by dense thickets of macchia (Corsica comes to mind), except where tree groves interrupted the thorny sea. The grasslands are the result of a very recent invasion of Spanish/Mexican rancheros, some 200 years ago, who burnt off the thickets throughout the East Bay and established vast ranches on the hills. Not only the thickets disappeared, the native grass thriving on small batches also went to see its maker, being replaced by European grasses imported in the hide of the cows (see "<a href="http://emilems.blogspot.com/2010/05/green-green-grass-of-ho-ome.html">The Green, Green Grass of Ho-ome</a>").<br />
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<tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="http://3.bp.blogspot.com/-3yPxR3-v2sQ/T7AAeSURiSI/AAAAAAAAGvY/8r1CICbmza0/s1600/IMG_0029+blake+Duplet+Master.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" height="270" src="http://3.bp.blogspot.com/-3yPxR3-v2sQ/T7AAeSURiSI/AAAAAAAAGvY/8r1CICbmza0/s400/IMG_0029+blake+Duplet+Master.jpg" width="400" /></a></td></tr>
<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;"><b><i>Left:</i></b> Equisetum (Horsetail) <b><i> Right:</i></b> Foeniculum (Fennel)</td></tr>
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Compared to Europe, where vegetational changes have to be observed over a thousand years, here in the States everything changes much quicker. Within twenty years or so, the rancheros had established the open grasslands and, within the last 90 years, the hills have been covered by residences and, in rare cases for our enjoyment, by bucolic parks like the one we are about to enter.<br />
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Some observant readers have already asked me, whether I had forgotten about the second garden, on the hills, mentioned in the preceding chapter. Not to worry, we will deal with that one now. I had originally intended to deal with both in one single blog post, but pictures and text simply got out of hand, so I decided to divide into two this engaging topic.<br />
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<tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="http://3.bp.blogspot.com/-8kNqIAb31lQ/T660riCt7JI/AAAAAAAAGto/K5hmiRRcUEY/s1600/IMG_0092+blake+Master.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" height="317" src="http://3.bp.blogspot.com/-8kNqIAb31lQ/T660riCt7JI/AAAAAAAAGto/K5hmiRRcUEY/s400/IMG_0092+blake+Master.jpg" width="400" /></a></td></tr>
<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">Echium (Viper)</td></tr>
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Whereas we last time looked at a private garden in the relatively limited space that even a grand private property nowadays is residing in, today's garden is found in an estate in the old sense of the world, looking down serenely at its lesser siblings below and saluting across the Bay its counterpart in grandeur, the Golden Gate Bridge. Garden is not really the right denomination for this green expanse, so let's call it <i style="font-weight: bold;">Park</i>. And indeed, we are visiting Blake Garden, the famous Park surrounding Blake House, the official residence of University of California's President.<br />
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<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">Kniphofia uvaria (Red-hot poker)</td></tr>
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This estate was created by one of the great families in the Bay Area, the Stiles-Blake family. The land was originally owned by Harriet Stiles, who gifted it to her four children. Two of those, Anson and Edward, decided to build a residence each on the land. Eward's house was subsequently sold to the Carmelite Order and still belongs to the Church, separated from the estate proper. Anson's part was instead transformed into a marvelous garden landscape, due to the valiant efforts of Anson's wife Anita and her sister Mabel Symmes. The latter was a landscape architect and laid out the basic garden plan. Together, the two sisters worked for decades to implement that plan, foraging the globe for plants suitable to the Hills' climate and filling the park to the brim with exotic foliage.<br />
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The result of their work is astonishing. The narrow area around the residence is laid out like an Italian garden, with flowers from the Mediterranean and the Canaries populating the slope at the residence's back. The front is a marvel of architectural planning. The elongated pool provides structure to the lay-out, surrounded by lush Magnolias and polished off by the winding staircase and symbolic "grotto" in the background. Golden fish linger about lazily in the pool, a breeze is whispering in the tree crowns, and the greenery around the staircase beckons the visitor to come thither and explore the remainder of the park, lying just beyond those enticing steps. This Italian type garden is of course only a minor part of the park; around it an English type park of artfully "untended" landscapes is spreading its wings.<br />
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<a href="http://1.bp.blogspot.com/-QWHJdIMKr9o/T661Ik2xZ-I/AAAAAAAAGtw/uWcuqLui71U/s1600/IMG_0037+blake+Pools+Master.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="clear: left; float: left; margin-bottom: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" height="296" src="http://1.bp.blogspot.com/-QWHJdIMKr9o/T661Ik2xZ-I/AAAAAAAAGtw/uWcuqLui71U/s400/IMG_0037+blake+Pools+Master.jpg" width="400" /></a></div>
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I was invited to visit this marvel of a park by a new-found friend, whom I got to know first by his astute comments on an <a href="http://emilems.blogspot.com/2010/04/you-know-of-course-who-was-chester.html">earlier blog</a>. His name is Rudi Schmid and he is Professor (retired) in Botany at UCB. The plant is not yet conceived that would escape his universal knowledge of all things green. We have to thank him for the two ancient pictures shown above, as well as for the plants' name indicated, for once, under each relevant picture. He also introduced me to the Park's valiant guardian, Lauri Twichell, who is managing the park together with her three assistants. Only four gardeners for this huge estate? Well, we should not forget the volunteers (to be counted in the tens and twenties), as well as the UCB students in botany who do their homework here.<br />
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<tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="http://3.bp.blogspot.com/-qg3x9h6E0S8/T7ADKVYR4uI/AAAAAAAAGvo/hS7oSfx8h_c/s1600/IMG_0023+blake+Master.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" height="318" src="http://3.bp.blogspot.com/-qg3x9h6E0S8/T7ADKVYR4uI/AAAAAAAAGvo/hS7oSfx8h_c/s400/IMG_0023+blake+Master.jpg" width="400" /></a></td></tr>
<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">Rudi and Lauri, not to forget Rudi's lively companion Fleur</td></tr>
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Rudi took me on a long and much educational tour around the park, explaining to me all the intricate details of its design and plants. Unfortunately, photographer as I am, I was unable to take all of it in, since I was mostly concentrating on picturing the many small marvels. That notwithstanding, let's highlight the park's important features, as I remember them.<br />
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<tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="http://1.bp.blogspot.com/-0xMhP9E4Oow/T6__vd1bi1I/AAAAAAAAGvA/Kyb0c2d4wWE/s1600/IMG_0057+blake+Master.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" height="201" src="http://1.bp.blogspot.com/-0xMhP9E4Oow/T6__vd1bi1I/AAAAAAAAGvA/Kyb0c2d4wWE/s400/IMG_0057+blake+Master.jpg" width="400" /></a></td></tr>
<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">Clivia miniata between redwood trees</td></tr>
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The most impressive of them for me, as lover of "eternal" trees, was the grove of redwoods located at the park's fringe along a quietly gurgling creek. When descending the grove, many a small bridge and an enticing pond invited us to proceed, and some interesting flowers, rare to grow under and between redwoods, according to Rudi, led our steps to advance more eagerly.<br />
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<tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="http://1.bp.blogspot.com/-bViYgNK64ec/T7LglKpwIAI/AAAAAAAAGwA/Yf3dY0emHus/s1600/IMG_0067+Blake+Duplet+Master.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" height="261" src="http://1.bp.blogspot.com/-bViYgNK64ec/T7LglKpwIAI/AAAAAAAAGwA/Yf3dY0emHus/s400/IMG_0067+Blake+Duplet+Master.jpg" width="400" /></a></td></tr>
<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;"><b><i>Left:</i></b> Clivia miniata <b><i>Right:</i></b> Hedera helix (English ivy) clinging on redwood</td></tr>
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In the center of this quiet grove, suddenly Lauri re-appeared, this time accompanied by a group of enthusiastic children, admiring the redwoods just as I am used to do. Isn't it charming to see small kids, with their heads turned firmly upwards, paying tribute to those red Methuselahs?</div>
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After spending quite some time in the cool and calming shadows of the red giants, it was time to explore the remaining parts of the park. As we mounted towards the grove's upper fringe, a green abundance of leaves was welcoming us, pointing us towards the more open oak ranges. </div>
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<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">Asarum caudatum (Wild ginger)</td></tr>
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Many an oak was standing there, with their lower branches extending almost horizontally towards the light. As we were ambling among these trees, which generously let through ample sunlight to the shrubs and flowers underneath, I suddenly felt like back home in Sweden, where, in mid-June, the oaken ranges abound with light and flowers, just as they did here on the hills that day. Of course, the oaks with their horizontal branches and undivided leaves soon called me back to reality, as did the flowers who quite differed from our colored companions back home. </div>
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As you can see from the next picture, Rudi did his best to explain to me the names and properties of vegetation, trees, brushes, flowers and all that we met on our way. I was unable to retain them all whilst we were ambling through this abundance, but Rudi was so kind as to remind me of the names afterward, when he saw the pictures, so I am still able to provide you with their correct denominations. </div>
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And now, dear readers, comes a first in the history of this copious blog! A juxtaposition of the hunter and his prey, so to speak. Thanks to Rudi you can see me photographing the very flowers that are on the picture below to the left. This was an occasion that demanded the deepest concentration from your blogger! I had to take two photos with different adjustments, to be merged later in Photoshop, to catch this complicated scenery.</div>
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<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;"><b><i>Left:</i></b> Phlomis fructicosa (Jerusalem sage) <b><i>Right:</i></b> Courtesy Rudi Schmid</td></tr>
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Turning yet another corner, we passed by a small cliff, along which the two garden sisters had planted still more of the flowers that are adorning the park wherever you look!</div>
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I have already mentioned that the sisters also provided for a "dry" Mediterranean section with plants that thrive in those parts of the world, as well as on the "Fortunate Islands" (The Canaries). When walking along the backside of the mansion, I recognized for once several high rising flowers that I had met many times during my hikes on Gran Canaria. For instance, take a look at the plant adorning the beginning of one of my <a href="http://emilsfelicitousisle.blogspot.com/2011/02/to-top.html">Canariablogposts</a> and compare with the corresponding plants growing below the Blake House, in the picture below:</div>
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<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;"><b><i>Plant in foreground:</i></b> Echium (Viper)</td></tr>
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We are approaching the end of our walk, dear readers! But let us tax your patience one moment longer, by returning to the Italian type "grotto" in front of the mansion, mounting the stairs surrounding that contraption and continuing further up the slope behind it. </div>
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A reward for your patience is awaiting you up there. Suddenly, a clearing opens up among the trees and brushes; Blake House is now completely hidden among the trees, but the most marvelous view of the Bay is spreading itself out before our astonished eyes. Far in the distance, we can glimpse the Golden Gate with its rust-red companion and below our feet lies the sea of houses that is El Cerrito. Again we can confirm that the rises above North Berkeley and El Cerrito face the Golden Gate straight on across the Bay. </div>
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By now we have spent two hours in this marvelous park and I guess you are getting exhausted by this lengthy report. But the time spent on this post was worth it, don't you think? It is not every day that you are visiting the official residence of the President of the University of California!</div>
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</div>Emil Emshttp://www.blogger.com/profile/07815643585218883358noreply@blogger.com10tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-2242228370300474063.post-53983034596374869252012-05-10T19:53:00.002+02:002012-05-11T20:22:31.498+02:00LOFTY GARDENS<div dir="ltr" style="text-align: left;" trbidi="on">
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<a href="http://emilems.blogspot.com/2012/04/venerable-veterans.html">Some posts ago</a> I made the promise to raise my eyes above the flower beds and I think that I basically kept to that commitment. However, there is more than one way to raise your eyes, figuratively speaking. Last week I had the great opportunity of visiting two exceptional gardens up in the Berkeley Hills, which let me lift my brows without leaving the flower beds!<br />
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The elevations above Berkeley (and El Cerrito) offer paradisiac conditions for ambitious gardening. Granted that South Berkeley is a marvel of small gardens along its small streets, their delicate splendor is even surpassed by the more grandiose locations up in the hills.<br />
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It is not only a matter of properties situated on steep slants providing challenging, but at the same time proficient, conditions for creative landscape architects – let's face it, artists. The climate conditions also differ from those in the lowlands. The Berkeley and El Cerrito Hills north of Campus lie exactly opposite the Golden Gate. This in itself is worth of noting, since the residents there have ample opportunities to take shots of the sun setting over Golden Gate Bridge around December. For that reason alone, I wish I owned a property up there.<br />
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More importantly, the fogs drifting in from the Pacific through the Golden Gate tend to linger more readily on those hills than on the lowlands at their feet. The reasons for this have already been explained in an earlier <a href="http://emilems.blogspot.com/2010/04/flowers-dancing-in-rain.html">blog post</a>. Almost year-round, cool and humid conditions prevail during the morning hours, letting the flowery vegetation prosper to an astonishing extent.<br />
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Of course, fog alone doesn't a beautiful garden make; it takes ever-lasting dedication, work and resources to make the most out of the beneficial conditions. But the hill residents usually are apt at making those conditions work for them and it is pure pleasure to take the car up there and drive around houses full of garden treasures, even if you can but catch glimpses of those treasures from the street.<br />
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Last Tuesday I had the privilege of being invited inside one of those promising properties, and allowed to pursue my photographic activities to the full. It is situated not far from Indian Rocks, already known from an <a href="http://emilems.blogspot.com/2010/06/climb-lofty-indians.html">old adventure trip</a> of mine. The estate is owned by an academic family, with the wife also being a dedicated and enduring gardener.<br />
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The whole estate is breathing serene harmony; trees, brushes and flowers in all colors and shapes are adorning the lay-out.<br />
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The garden is spread out over a steep slope, with three small leveled terraces, accessible by wooden staircases. The lowest staircase can be seen in the overview below, with the upper terraces somewhat receding and partly hidden in the lush vexation.<br />
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As the proud owner explained it to me, she views her garden as a kind of semi-vertical sea, with waves of color undulating over the surface, in ultra-rapid, as the growing seasons evolve and each flower generation is superseded by the next. A telling metaphor indeed!<br />
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Since there is never a freezing winter (temperature below zero Celsius) up in those hills – with the rare exception of 1972 – the question arises how such a lovely garden can stand defended against all kinds of parasites and other damaging critters. Swedish gardens are being blessed with long winters that kill off many an unwelcome garden fiend, but this natural defense is sadly lacking in the benign Bay climate.<br />
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That notwithstanding, the owner, a true Lady of the Land, steadfastly refuses to apply toxic chemicals as a remedy, relying instead on nature's natural balance, aided by avoiding monocultures and, if bad comes to worse, assisted by the gardener's delicate fingers, picking the offenders off the roses one by one, as I was able to witness on the day of my visit. As you can see from the pictures, the garden is saluting her dedication with delightful splendor; I am raising my cap to this foremost of private gardeners. </div>
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<br /></div>Emil Emshttp://www.blogger.com/profile/07815643585218883358noreply@blogger.com4tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-2242228370300474063.post-84133903295262888962012-05-02T06:03:00.001+02:002012-05-03T19:20:09.529+02:00HIKING WITH HARRY<div dir="ltr" style="text-align: left;" trbidi="on">
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You don't recall Harry, you say? Well, it has been some time, but there is an <a href="http://emilems.blogspot.com/2010/04/not-so-wuthering-heights.html">ancient blog post</a> to remind you: two years ago, I went to a nice regional wilderness called Sunol and met this pleasant gentleman on the hike. He became a regular commentator on the blog thereafter and enriched it with his in-depth knowledge of the Berkeley of yore.<br />
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In my on-going mission to locate all the people figuring prominently in the book "Fiat Lux! ..." I visited Harry two weeks ago in his home in Sunnyvale, far south on the Peninsula. He lives there in a pleasant house together with his partner Francis and we spent a nice afternoon together, talking about this and that as elderly gentlemen have the habit of doing. It emerged that Harry is one of the very few true Americans, in the sense that all his forefathers at least three generations back have been born here. Here you can see him sitting in his favorite chair, after showing me another one that was his <b><i>great grandmother's</i></b> favorite chair (he had a picture of her in the chair to prove it!). Unfortunately, I forgot to take a picture of that invaluable link to the past. An unforgivable relapse!<br />
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During our conversation I learned that Harry had taken an engineering degree at UCB. I had kind of suspected this all along, since this octogenarian had always exhibited an uncanny sense for details. As an example, he showed me on Google Map, that I should be able to see the UCB Campanile straight ahead, when entering Telegraph from Stuart Street on my way to Campus. I did not believe him, of course. Had I not trodden this path hundreds of time, already in the 'seventies, two years ago and again this year, without ever gaining the slightest glimpse of Campanile?<br />
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Well back home again, I had to investigate further, that goes without saying. And, sure enough, if you were standing smash in the middle of Telegraph Avenue, coming from Stuart Street, Campanile would lay straight ahead of you. I had never noticed this before, since I never had crossed the street at this very crossing, preferring always to proceed versus Campus on the left side of Telegraph.<br />
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But enough about my beaten paths, we have to move the story onwards! Harry is a great hiker, getting out into the wilderness every week with a group of friends, who have been doing that for years and years. A week ago, he kindly invited me to hike along, on a short walk up and around the San Bruno Mountain. This is a pronounced promontory, placed in the middle of the Peninsula south of San Francisco. It is not really a mountain, rather a large hill, a bit like the "mountains" in Wales. But it rises in sole majesty above the plain, providing sweeping views: northward to San Francisco, the Bay eastward and the Pacific westward. In short, a pleasure to walk around on!<br />
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The only problem with the hike was, as I thought when waiting for the hiking group – at rendezvous point BART Station "Colma" – that it was raining quite heavily and gusty winds were sending icy messages along my back. Furthermore, glancing in the direction of the mountain, it was completely invisible, fully hidden behind heavy rain clouds. So I called Harry on the mobile, expecting him to call off the hike. "You must be joking!", was his answer, so I braced myself for splashing paths under dark clouds.<br />
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It turned out to be not so bad after all. Even if the beginning of the hike was windy and rainy, the sky soon started to lighten and, eventually, even the sun returned, enticing us to proceed with vigor.<br />
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Speaking of vigor, I have the habit of lingering now and then on a hike, in order to catch the scenery with my Canon (a new toy acquired two weeks ago!). Usually, I have no problem catching up with hiking partners, hikers usually choose to proceed at a leisurely pace. Not this group, I can tell you! I had a hard time keeping up with these old-timers and only my long photographing routine enabled me to get the odd picture, clicking the camera on the run, so to speak.<br />
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And real old-timers they were, my hiking companions! I don't believe many of them still saw this side of the 'eighties, a hardy group if I ever met one. But should this surprise me? People having been born in the great depression; gone through all child deceases without any modern medication or vaccination and acquired a robust physic as a result; grown up during WW II and having served in the Korean War; survived a long life with its risks of accident and grave illness surely should be able to do some serious exercise even in their 'eighties? We can but admire the lucky few who maintain vitality at that advanced age. Will those from our generation, who live that long, keep a correspondingly robust physic? I doubt it, our life has been too comfortable to train the body for long-time use!<br />
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I usually come home from my hikes with at least ten good pictures of flowers to savor. I trust you understand by now that I had time for taking only two, with the rest of the group firmly pacing ahead. So you have to believe my word, that this large hill was full of blooms, many of which I had already seen and documented along the South Berkeley streets, even if they looked much purer and more enticing in their natural habitat.<br />
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But there were other reasons for lifting the eyes from the microcosmos at my feet. After an hour's ascent, a beautiful vista opened up, as foretold above. In the hazy distance, San Francisco's skyline rose proudly to the occasion and soon it was possible to get a round view of the bay in all four compass directions.<br />
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Here you see a picture of Harry standing on top of the mountain, explaining to us the route downwards and towards the cars, after having collected and assembled – together with a companion and with the aid of his walky-talky – alls stragglers and loafers like me.<br />
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Down we went, from a hilltop somehow incongruously adorned by a multitude of masts and antennas and soon got the community of Colma back in sight, resting at our feet so to speak. Walking and sliding downwards was of course much easier than laboring upwards and soon we were – aided by the sun re-appearing in full splendor – back at the cars and eventually at Colma BART station.<br />
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Well there, I decide to take a stroll along the streets of this relatively new settlement and it turned out to be a good decision. Just a few minutes beyond the station, a nice vista of the San Bruno Mountain opened up, providing me with the view that had been refused me in the morning by less benevolent weather. I trust you understand better now what I meant by a "multitude of masts and antennas".<br />
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Walking around the corner from there I could observe a rather nice new neighborhood of houses arranged somewhat like in the Swedish style. An interesting contrast to the long-established and flowering neighborhood in South Berkeley, don't you think?<br />
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<br /></div>Emil Emshttp://www.blogger.com/profile/07815643585218883358noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-2242228370300474063.post-32002588188385163572012-04-27T06:39:00.001+02:002012-04-27T09:03:52.267+02:00FEMALE ENDURANCE<div dir="ltr" style="text-align: left;" trbidi="on">
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Once upon a time in California a girl was born, with a beautiful brain, both analytical and creative, its two halves in perfect harmony, so to speak.<br />
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There was never any doubt that greatness would bless her. On her way, she embarked on some serious studies, taking an engineering degree at UC Berkeley at a time, when universities on the old continent still refused to accept the fairer sex in its institutions of high learning. This took care of sharpening the left half of her brain.<br />
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Not satisfied with a job half done, she set out to polish also the other half. Architecture appeared a suitable topic and what better place to study it than venturing to the capital of "La Belle Epoque" and applying for entry at the "Ecole des Beaux-Arts". Here came the first hurdle for her path to glory. The old continent categorically refused this young lady access to its foremost School of Arts. You and I would have returned home, stifled by this moth-eaten cloth of customs, but not this young lady. She produced a second application to the Ecole, a third, a forth ..., each consisting of a beautifully drafted and perfectly executed plan for a master building, a new one for every application. This went on for two years until, full of embarrassment, entrance was granted to her, but at a condition: she was to attend classes hidden behind a screen, so as not to embarrass and disturb the male students!<br />
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By now you certainly have guessed the name of this remarkable female: we are speaking of no other than <a href="http://en.wikipedia.org/wiki/Julia_Morgan">Julia Morgan</a>, one of the foremost architects in California at the beginning of last century and way into modern times.<br />
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I have always been intrigued by this female master builder, ever since visiting <a href="http://en.wikipedia.org/wiki/Hearst_Castle">San Simeon</a> in the 'seventies and admiring the way in which she used bits and pieces of "lootings" from the old continent to create, like laying a puzzle, an impressive monument, more in honor of herself than that of her employer, Randolph Hearst, the great newspaper magnate and capitalist.<br />
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Two years ago, on my first voyage down memory lane, I happened upon an entrance door at Durant Street, that looked out of the ordinary, among the many churches that are adorning the sidewalks. I could not quite identify the architectural style: was it Romanesque, or maybe Venetian Gothic, or possibly Moorish? In fact it seemed to embody all three of those styles in one simple doorway. This must have been constructed by an architect well versed in the history of buildings, I thought. Getting closer, a sign indicated that I was standing before the <a href="http://berkeleyheritage.com/berkeley_landmarks/city_club1.html">Berkeley Women's City Club</a>, build by Julia Morgan in 1929.<br />
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Happy to have found another specimen wrought by Julia, I sought and read some material on this building. Apparently, this was her first edifice since San Simeon, and she was happy to construct it fully in line with her own ideas, after having spent some years down south, forced to follow the intentions of her overpowering contractor. Her engineering background served her well, since the construction was finalized in the record time of two years.<br />
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With these facts digested, I rushed back to the building to take some pictures of the interior, but it was not possible then to get access. The doors were firmly closed. As an aside, let me tell you a funky story that illustrates the charm of Berkeley. Short after this failed attempt to get access, I met a lady of a certain age at Peet's Coffee and Tea on Telegraph. She was of Persian descent and claimed to be a Member of the Club owning Julia's temple. She was all charm and promised me to provide access to the building's interior. Pleased about this generous offer, I invited her for lunch at the best Persian restaurant in Berkeley. After a pleasant meal, spent in engaging conversations, she admitted, offering her elegant sympathy, that she had unfortunately no connections with the Club. As a consolation, she gave me a brochure about the building, which, as she put it, would be quite enough for me to get to know its interior. That was that as concerned my visit to Berkeley two years ago.<br />
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Three weeks ago I happened to pass by the same elaborate entrance once again. I am older now, and hopefully wiser, so I rang the bell, hoping for a positive response. To my surprise, the door opened for me and I was greeted by a charming young lady who turned out to be the manager of the premises. When she heard that I was a photographer, she was pleased to grant me access to the building and – bliss upon bliss – even invited me to lunch in the building's pleasant dining hall. What a difference two years make!<br />
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Thanks to Laura Bourret – the charming manager – I spent an engaging morning in Julia's Berkeley castle. Whilst walking through the premises I couldn't help comparing Julia's masterpiece with that of contemporary architects on our own continent. I lived in Brussels for ten years and am familiar with the edifices of the Belgian Art Nouveau architects, in particular their foremost representative, Victor Horta. Interestingly, whilst our European innovators used mostly cast iron as bearing building element, clothing them in colored glasses and elegant stone facades, Julia and her Californian compatriots built in a much more massive style, using concrete as main building element. As it has been explained to me, buildings such as wrought by Victor Horta would not be able to withstand the pressure of earth quakes, forcing native architects to find their own unique style.<br />
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Julia turned out to be a master of building elegant mansions in concrete. Like her European counterparts, she put her pride in designing each building from outside in. Every little detail in the interior was conceived so as to harmonize with the whole. Even the roof decorations in the large salons of the Berkeley Club were carefully designed to be a perfect simulation of wooden roof beams, although being wrought in concrete as all the other details outside and inside the house.<br />
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Although Julia was an innovator in the use of concrete as building material, she was surprisingly old-fashioned in her choice of architectural details. As already mentioned above concerning the details of the entrance doorway, windows, staircases, furnaces and other interior embellishments exhibit a curious mix of gothic monasterial, moorish and other historical styles. Could it be that Julia, having spent so much effort to enter the Académie des Beaux Arts, felt obliged to follow the teachings of that Architectural School, who was at her time still bonded to the building styles of yore, in the period of La Belle Epoque – Gründerzeit in Austria – when it was en vogue for architects to pick and choose from history in conceiving their own buildings?<br />
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Be that as it may, the Berkeley City Club is still a masterpiece of elegant structure, with all bits and pieces falling in line to render a harmonious whole. Furthermore, Julia was not above inventing her own modern architectural style; as I understand it, her creative talent came into full bloom whenever she was to design a swimming pool on the premises. Already in San Simeon, the two swimming pools are architectural masterpieces. But they are surpassed by the subtle elegance and shimmering beauty of the pool in the City Club, where Julia is showing with bravour, that she could be a master of Art Nouveau or, for that sake, Art Déco, if she so desired, which of course she seldom did. One of her feet was always firmly grounded in the architectural style she had learned once upon a time in Paris and she refused categorically – in her more mature age – to design buildings in a modern style, such as the functionalist style that came en vogue in the 'thirties.<br />
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<br /></div>Emil Emshttp://www.blogger.com/profile/07815643585218883358noreply@blogger.com6tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-2242228370300474063.post-52760375762394519852012-04-20T19:10:00.000+02:002012-04-24T02:09:24.787+02:00GRASSROOTS BERKELEY<div dir="ltr" style="text-align: left;" trbidi="on">
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The people sitting here in the title picture are some valiant warriors for and guardians of a city worth living in: the LeConte Neighborhood Association, embracing most of the residences in South Berkeley. The man on top of the "pyramid" in the picture is Karl Reeh, the Association's co-ordinator, well known by now as a valid source of information about all things Berkeley-ish.<br />
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I am standing in the large cafeteria of LeConte Elementary School on Russell Street in South Berkeley. For being such an important institute of learning, much embraced by the generations of residents having started their education here, the room is looking – let's admit it – rather worn down and shabby, with a refrigerator from the 'fifties (I presume) laboring with impressive noise in the background, with drapes askew and generally with a forlorn look about it. I wouldn't care to mention this, were it not of importance for what will be discussed later on in this post.</div>
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Last evening the Association held a meeting there and I was eager to attend it, as soon as I heard about it. You may have guessed from my earlier blog posts this year that I have kind of fallen in love with the South Berkeley neighborhood and any activities aiming at preserving it receive my keen attention nowadays. The Association, emerging from the neighborhood initiative SNAP, is officially recognized by the City Council and is manning the planning City's Planning Commissions, as already explained in an <a href="http://emilems.blogspot.com/2012/04/how-to-create-and-preserve-nice.html">earlier blog</a>. Its Commission representatives, and anyone else having a planning problem to bring forward, are presenting their case at regular meetings of the Association, to gain support for their initiatives in the typical American way of signing lists and writing letters to their City Councillor.<br />
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Listening to the problems put on the table by a number of engaged speakers opened my eyes to the planning problems encountered in this wonderful city, albeit maybe a bit atypical for the average American town. Previously I had the impression that the city zoning delineations are set in stone, only to be changed at long term reviews with ample opportunities for concerned citizens to express their concerns and affect the outcome for the general good. The meeting made me understand that the issue is far from as clear-cut. Even if zoning delineations and rules applying for each zone are being decided for long periods ahead, they are not set in stone. There is a constant process of finagling and manipulating going on, with the persistent danger that well-financed developers, in cahoots with easily persuaded City Councillors could, by bending the rules, get new building initiatives voted through that deviated considerably from the agreed upon long-term development plans.<br />
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Even in zones reserved for calm residences, lax supervision by the city often is permitting owners of large such a residence to convert it into rented apartments. Some of these buildings soon degenerate, due to landlord's neglect and without city supervision, into worn-down and destitute remains of their former glory.<br />
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To this has to be added that Berkeley is a poor city, with a serious budget problem and much in debt. Even if there were an ambition to govern city development for the general good, a constant lack of financing would prevent the city of carrying out such projects on its own. Any redevelopment of worn-down city areas, such as the Downtown and some industrial areas in West Berkeley, has to depend on financing by private developers, holding the city hostage with plans that, on the one hand, provide a host of needed new real estate but, on the other hand, lead to a city landscape seriously lacking in aesthetic values, counter to the demands for a human scale and often directly offending to the eyes of the beholder.<br />
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<a href="http://3.bp.blogspot.com/-dWwcTGw5Sgk/T5WhxaZcCtI/AAAAAAAAGdc/-x_tYQ3Mw3I/s1600/IMG_0142+Master.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="clear: left; float: left; margin-bottom: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" height="305" src="http://3.bp.blogspot.com/-dWwcTGw5Sgk/T5WhxaZcCtI/AAAAAAAAGdc/-x_tYQ3Mw3I/s400/IMG_0142+Master.jpg" width="400" /></a>Once you have understood the real world of town planning in this city, you also start seeing its effects. Public institutions owned by the city are badly maintained, due to lack of funds. Furthermore, open public spaces, such as parks and some sports fields, are ever being threatened to be taken over by developers for building purposes. There is an on-going process of University institutions and housing encroaching upon the small residence areas to its North and South. And new development actions, in Downtown as well as in West Berkeley, threaten to permanently change the character of the city, by introducing walls of high-risers in a city known for its buildings with a human perspective. But why spend a lot of words on this? Seeing is believing! Take a look at the latest grand scheme, as it looks seen from one of Berkeley's foremost public attractions, the Aquatic Park on the waterfront:<br />
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How effective is a grass roots organization as the LeConte Association in countering all these threats to a humane and delightful Berkeley? It is difficult for me to judge. What I was seeing here in LeConte Elementary was a group of friendly neighbors, getting increasingly upset and angry at the various new schemes being envisaged and even put in action by a forward City Council. What I cannot judge is, how the various action lists being signed at the meeting and all the subsequent contacts with Councillors will affect the final outcome of those plans. I am recalling my long-time friend and Stockholm City activist <a href="http://www.mapsec.se/section.asp?sc=page&aid=2&detalj=ja&kid=5">Richard Murray</a>, who in Stockholm was forced to form a local political party when he wanted to get his views observed and implemented. This party, the Stockholm Party, was for a long time instrumental in achieving a more humane Stockholm. But here in the US the local politic system seems to work differently and it may well be, that its more individualistic approach, which I find quite engaging, works here as well as our more institutional approach did in Stockholm.<br />
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<br /></div>Emil Emshttp://www.blogger.com/profile/07815643585218883358noreply@blogger.com3tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-2242228370300474063.post-39597600514247952582012-04-13T19:52:00.001+02:002012-04-17T21:11:14.913+02:00VENERABLE VETERANS<div dir="ltr" style="text-align: left;" trbidi="on"><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><a href="http://3.bp.blogspot.com/-YMZcuqhKIUY/T42nFo6dCPI/AAAAAAAAGcM/W8nN77nnSWk/s1600/DSCN0811+Master.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" height="400" src="http://3.bp.blogspot.com/-YMZcuqhKIUY/T42nFo6dCPI/AAAAAAAAGcM/W8nN77nnSWk/s400/DSCN0811+Master.jpg" width="306" /></a></div><br />
You may have noticed that most of my pictures of Berkeley streets are of flowers. This is no accident. When walking along the sidewalks of Southern Berkeley at this time of the year, the eyes are automatically drawn towards watching the blooming splendor. So here I go, usually, with my eyes at street level, looking at and photographing blooms, a bit like a dog sniffing at the ground to identify his whereabouts. But increasingly, and more so when the flowering period abates, I will try to raise my head and watch more of the scenery above the efflorescence.<br />
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Last Sunday morning, I got a splendid opportunity to do so, when Karl Reeh was so kind to take me along as a friend to visit a young couple at their place on Blake/Fulton. The couple was inviting neighbors to a housewarming brunch. When I arrived at the place, I was astounded. Before my eyes rose a beautifully restored Victorian Mansion. The restoration of the greens around the house is in progress, so their was no flowery carpet to lure my eyes down. I just <i><b>had</b></i> to take a picture of this jewel of a house, painted in cyan and magenta.<br />
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<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">Nathan and Angela, the proud restorers of an ancient mansion</td></tr>
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Nathan and Angela, as was the name of the couple, welcomed me with open arms and showed me the inside of the house. They explained to me that this was the oldest residence in Berkeley still standing, having been finished in 1877. Having restored the exterior they were now undertaking the renovation of the inside. I have to admire this energetic venture undertaken by a couple half my age and the consideration they show for preserving what is best in Southern Berkeley. Let's hope that we begin to glance a beneficial future for the manifold of houses still in dear need of preservation, if not restoration. If the younger generation in general would start to show an interest in preserving the unique character of this cosy neighborhood, our generation could sleep more easily at night, knowing that a changing of the guard will eventually be happening.<br />
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</div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: left;">After this up-lifting experience, I contentedly strolled back to Stuart Street, this time giving more attention to the houses than the flowers. And suddenly, it was as if a curtain had been lifted before my eyes, to reveal one interesting house after another. I then decided that it may be worthwhile to raise the camera above street level from time to time, even if flowers would remain my main interest. </div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: left;"><br />
</div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: left;">To prove this point, let me show you a picture of another venerable mansion, this time located on Ward/Fulton, barely five minutes from my apartment. Although not as old as the earlier mentioned house, it has an impressive stature too. It probably is not pure chance to find formidable houses on street corners. Building a house on the corner invites the architect to go for prominence, which in turn makes it more difficult in the future to subdivide the property and crowd the mansion with buildings of lesser quality.</div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: left;"><br />
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</div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: left;">The picture is showing another interesting characteristic of South Berkeley. Smack in the middle of the street you see a round flowerbed, full with Californian poppy. This indicates that there is a roundabout in this crossing. Once you notice it you start seeing that almost all crossings in the area have such a roundabout. This was actually new to me when I came back to Berkeley after 35 years, in 2010. As I remember the streets from my student days, there was lot of traffic there, unhindered by any flowerbeds full with poppy. These small streets were then used as alternative routes around town, as soon as the main routes, such as Shattuck, were filling up with rush hour traffic. The neighborhood is now a much more peaceful venue for gallivanting old-timers like myself. We have to thank the active neighborhood association for this. It was their initiative, bearing fruit first after a long and burdensome struggle with city administration.</div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: left;"><br />
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</div>Emil Emshttp://www.blogger.com/profile/07815643585218883358noreply@blogger.com3