Moominmama's Adventures

Wherein Moominmama learns about the Waterpocket Fold and explores a national park that nearly got named Wayne Wonderland... It is almost impossible to convey the scale of Utah's cliffs and canyons in a photograph if you're not Ansel Adams. Instead, Moominmama asks you to scroll closely in the top photo where the sun hits the sand. There you will see two tiny figures hiking ahead of me, and maybe then you get a sense of the scale of just one canyon in the national park known as Capitol Reef. The photo at right shows Fruita Valley, a desert oasis where the national park campground is located at the foot of the red cliffs and along a narrow river. Having visited Zion and Bryce last year, I came across a reference to the Waterpocket Fold. Curious about this unusual geographic feature, Moominmama made a reservation this year in Capitol Reef to learn what this was and what it looks like. What I found in Capitol Reef was a little valley paradise without the crowds of the bigger parks....

In which Moominmama makes a mistake and seeks ways to keep her cool... It turns out smart campers abandon the Phoenix valley by April for good reason. Temperatures in Phoenix today (Sunday) are headed to 98°. Fortunately, Moominmama is not in the city but on the outskirts. Still, the sun has been relentless, and temperatures moved in the high 80°s the last several days. Given I had a week's reservation before my next stop, Moominmama had to think carefully about her daytime activities. One plan involved a two hour's drive to higher (and cooler) elevation in Sedona, where I'd heard of the red rocks and creative community. A morning walk on rust-colored trails plus a bit of scrambling up stone steps got me to the Devil's Bridge above. Another popular activity on this trail is apparently adding to this collection of little cairns at the edge of a cliff face. With the sun climbing and the morning's application of sunscreen wearing thin, I turned to town and followed a r...

In which Moominmama goes on a guided bird walk and learns about the artistry of the Salado cliff dwellers... Moominmama awakes each morning to an orchestra of birds. The funniest of the lot are the male Gambel's quail, which have a dark plume on the top of their heads. It bobs when they peck at the ground or hustle over to the nearest bush. They also make some strange bird calls, one that sounds like a tired squeaky toy, and another to the beat of "Chi-CA-go" as if you'd stepped on and off aforementioned squeaky toy. When I went on a guided bird walk one morning, I had a chance to ask what the quail bird calls were about. Vera, our guide, said they were basically announcing their presence. She also taught us various mnemonic devices for remembering bird calls. Like the owl that hoots: "Are you awake? Me too." Walking to the bath house not long after, I spotted a quail on the limb of a bush, issuing its one-note toot. I imitated -- and that quail took off in ...

Wherein Moominmama laces up her hiking boots and explores the diversity of Arizona's eastern trails... Having made it safely down to the lowlands near Phoenix, Moominmama's first major hike was actually a step backwards and upwards to the Mogollon Rim, a 200-mile escarpment that runs along the east of Arizona, an area I'd crossed with my trailer on the way down to the Superstition Mountains. Arizona has immense public lands with the Tonto National Forest at about 2.9 million acres and the adjacent Coconino National Forest with another 1.86 million acres. The Superstition Wilderness abuts the Tonto, with 160,000 acres.  That's just some of the parkland available on the eastern side of the state, best know for the Grand Canyon National Park in the northwest (1.2 million acres). The White Mountains of New Hampshire and Maine are puny in comparison, coming in at roughly 800,000 acres total. (New York fares better with its 6-million-acre Adirondack Park.) The Rim Country, wi...

  In which Moominmama returns to the road, visits desert badlands and finds happiness at the end of a rainbow... Moominmama had her fill of cross-country skiing in New Hampshire by mid-March and undertook the long drive to New Mexico to reclaim her little Moominhouse on wheels. This involves several nights of sleeping in the back of my car at highway rest stops or, further west, on free public land. Crossing the Mississippi River always elicits a loud hoorah! By the time I pulled into Durango, Colorado, my first destination was the lovely public pool, where I could exercise and stretch my stiff muscles. Refreshed, I then did the final hour of driving to get to my trailer in nearby Aztec, New Mexico. Loaded into the car were my trailer battery and travel possessions. There's always a certain amount of anxiety --- will the battery work, will my heater, water pump and fridge all return to life? I celebrate when everything powers up as expected! There's very little room for clutter...