I arrived on the outskirts of the Goblin’s valley yesterday. I set up camp on a small flattish area along a dirt road just below the base of a cliff on the opposite side of the road from a feature known as the San Rafael Reef. The reef rises hundreds of feet above the road leading to Little Wildhorse Canyon. A place I will visit in the next day or two. But this story is about the area just outside Goblin Valley.
The Valley itself is surrounded by high, steep cliffs in variegated colors of red, green, gray-white and ocher. The cliffs take a serpentine course undulating nearer and farther from the canyon road. There are many well-used dirt roads that traverse the alluvial deposits that line the base of the cliffs. Some are fairly smooth, all things considered (the roads are not maintained by anyone. They exist only because of their almost constant use.) These hard-packed clay tracks lead to flattish areas that have been used by tenters, campers and RV’s for decades.
I chose a road that already had a few people in residence, but which appeared to have a relatively flat area along a dry ravine that sees water only during the infrequent rains which pass through this area. What I saw from the road below turned out to be larger than it first appeared and with a gentle enough slope that the jacks on my RV had no problem setting everything level.
Once my home base was established, Topper (my dog) and I set out on a small, exploratory hike. We got a little carried away, maybe. What I had planned as a short jaunt turned into an almost two-hour exploration of the short, tortuous canyons that are inset into the cliff face at every turn. They all end within a few feet to, at most, a couple hundred feet or so at some shear drop from the mesa above. They were all carved by centuries of sporadic desert rains that cascade down the sides of the mesa to the valley below. And they are all beautiful and different.
While on our explorations, I found some interesting rock specimens (including one with some nice crystals inside) and saw a pale purple aster-like plant that had managed to survive being buried in sand during some rain event and had pushed its flower stalk above the soil to let its blossoms shine against an otherwise rather drab backdrop.
As night fell, we watched the moon rise above the cliff behind our little dwelling then went inside for a quiet supper. Later that evening, when I took Topper for his final stroll of the evening, I could see campfires in several places across the valley where it was spread out below us. The half-moon provided more than enough light to see the features of the canyon in dim relief. The moon was surrounded by a tight, glowing, pale-yellow halo, usually indicative of a coming rain. We shall see what the next 24 hours brings.
The next day we met the two families who were camped above us. Two retired woodworking teachers from the Provo area and their spouses. Topper found a playmate in one of their dogs and we were invited to share lunch with them. I’m glad I accepted. The food was delicious and the company pleasant. We took our leave shortly after the meal as one of the couples had to pack up and return home. The other couple is staying until tomorrow.
Topper and I took another exploratory stroll in the late afternoon, this time heading in the opposite direction from the day before. We rounded a turn in the cliff and were rewarded with a view of the back side of Molly’s Castle, a prominent feature of the area which marks the entrance to Goblin Valley.
We reached an impasse and headed back toward some of the small side canyons which we had yet to explore. Topper got side-tracked by some small hole that to him apparently smelled wonderful. He spent several minutes making it much larger in pursuit of the denizen of said hole. He never caught up to whatever he was after (not that I thought he would, desert rats are smart enough to have several openings to their dens and many tunnels to use to escape would-be diners.) When I tired of watching his antics we headed off to explore the section that we hadn’t yet seen.
A couple of the little canyons (or very tall gulleys, if you will…) were quite nice. One even had a small bridge that had formed when two large rocks collided when they slipped from their moorings on either side the lodged together in the middle. We passed underneath and continued about another 75 feet up the incline, until it became too steep for further exploration. Topper, who was pretty much a sissy-dog when we left St. Louis has become much more adventurous during our travels. I think he’s gotten in touch with his inner mountain goat.
I saw a few more of the tiny (about 1/4 inch across), colorful flowers that dot the ubiquitous plants that exist here. They’re rather pretty flowers, but difficult to photograph. Not only are they quite small, but when fully open their petals are translucent and about as thick as wet tissue paper. Once the plants have bloomed they dry into small sticker bushes that you don’t want to sit on, step on barefoot (or dog foot, as Topper found out), brush up against with any bare skin or otherwise come into contact with. The stickers come out easily enough, but they aren’t comfortable while lodged in one’s skin.
As we returned to our dwelling the moon was once more rising over the mesa looming above us. I took the opportunity to photograph the various formations and features in the waning light and found that the goblins do, indeed, come out at nightfall; their faces evident in the photos I took. Rain clouds were coming in from over the reef. I don’t know if they will drop any moisture on us tonight, but they made for a dramatic sky as the sun set. They also brought with them a stillness and silence that whispered of a peaceful night to come. At least so long as the goblins don’t become too restless…
The aster-like flower is a wild aster. We have them on our land in northern Minnesota! They are quite hardy & seem to thrive in harsh environments.
Hardy is right! This one had been buried until sand and silt and still it sent up a flower stalk.