Finished yesterday with a “minor” mishap. As we went off to sleep, we found out that my CPAP battery had given up its charge. Inexplicably, it simply appeared to be dead, and after the initial panic that I would be without my CPAP for the length of the river trip, we had to accept our new situation and hoped it would not interfere too much with the quality of our trip down the river. So far, so good, and here we are, all bright smiles and ready for whatever comes next.
For something to happen, we must go forward in search of just what that will be. For those of us who have never been here, this is pure exploration.
Deeper into the canyons, our boatmen row while we indulge in the luxury of taking time to see our surroundings.
Close-up detail of the cliff in front of us.
The canyons and the rocks they are made from vary from corner to corner, and it is often the contrast between the types and colors that demand the greatest scrutiny.
Those dark gray clouds portend something ominous in the distance. While it’s too early for a serious monsoon, it’s never too early for a good rain shower. Good thing that just a couple of hundred feet down the river can change your entire perspective; maybe blue skies are still going to arrive?
We take an early camp so we can go on a hike; this is the view from where we are spending the night.
With our tents set up, Caroline and I wander around to investigate the area. The first plant to catch my attention was this juniper tree.
Sometimes, the beautiful depth of field and particular lighting are enough for me to post a photo to add visual memories to our journeys.
I could be mistaken, but I think this is a variety of sagebrush.
As remote as this place feels and in spite of the fact that you can only get here by the river, there’s enough foot traffic to keep the trails clear and well-defined.
Just like I can never post enough photos of rivers, oceans, cliffs, animals, clouds, and Caroline, I can’t post enough of the plant life we find, either.
The sky grew dramatic and maybe even a little bit threatening.
It is warming the cockles to see a dory with its iconic form plying the waters in front of our camp.
Note: you can’t imagine my shock when here in the last 48 hours of 2023, methodically working through these blog posts and scanning for grammar inconsistencies and omissions, I discovered this, and the next two images had no text. There really is nothing to add as in the intervening years, we’ve not found any lost journals that could lend details to these days on the Yampa.
Not the loveliest of weather for a hike.
Good thing there are lovely flowers along the trail; they’ll certainly appreciate whatever rain they can capture.
Despite the looming clouds, our group decided to hike up to Wagon Wheel Point, which promised dramatic views over the Yampa. John decided to sit this one out because of his recently injured knee. Led by most of the guides, we hiked up the Bull Canyon Trail, which is relatively short but quite steep (about 500ft elevation gain in a bit over 1 mile). Once we had reached the canyon rim, we walked a bit further on what looked like an unpaved road to reach the overlook at Wagon Wheel Point. It was very humid but never actually rained, although there was lightning and thunder. Needless to say, we didn’t linger and turned around soon.
And then their travel companions brought up the rear as they went by effortlessly on the way to their camp.
NOTE: It’s now four years after we took this trip when I’m posting details for days 2, 3, 4, and 5. The brain is foggy, and while the pictures lend something back about the days, I’m left to a pure interpretation of them for the story. Caroline will have made a once-over on my writing by the time you are reading this and will have hopefully added some of her recollections, too. (May 9, 2018)
