Of Mice and Goblins

Wherein Moominmama evicts a family of mice and explores the goblins of Goblin Valley State Park...

Moominmama is driving around with the windows down, at least for a few more days. It turns out she picked up a mouse somewhere in her travels, a mouse that chewed up part of her cabin air filter to create a nest under the engine cover. She then gave birth.

Moominmama spent the better part of a day in Baker, Nevada, evicting the family before crossing into Utah. Mama mouse had not been wise in her choice of accommodations, and three of the babies died. Fortunately, she shoved them out of the engine compartment and dropped them on my passenger-side floor where I could easily remove them. Three others, I chased out by lifting up the car hood and banging on the interior and roaring like a lion. They ran out the same passenger-side exit, and my new friend Robert sucked them up with his shop vac. Six mice total.

More banging and roaring later, while Robert took apart areas under the glove box and near the air intake, netted us no more rodents. Moominmama drove off and commit to being more vigilant in the future. Tricks like propping open the hood to let in light plus regular use of an ultrasonic mouse repeller hopefully will prevent a repeat. She also bought and installed a new cabin air filter.

But after arriving in Utah, Moominmama discovered there was one mouse we'd missed, stuck somewhere behind the dashboard. The smell of decay was unmistakable. I could abandon my plans and pay someone to pull the dashboard apart. Or I could leave the windows open, be patient and wait for putrid to change to desiccated. I am in the Utah desert after all.

In fact, I am in Goblin Valley State Park, and the top photo is one of the "goblins." He looks to me like he has googly eyes on top of his head with two nostrils below. 

Below that is a photo from "Goblette's Lair," a cave in the side of one of the cliff's. This valley was once tidal flats 140-170 million years ago. Then, 10 million years ago, the Colorado Plateau uplifted, and the erosion process began that created these goblins, or hoodoos. 

The land exposed is known as the Entrada formation, the same red rocks featured in Arches National Park to the northeast. Except in Arches, sand dunes, not tidal flats, were compressed into rock. So the same formation actually looks quite different here. 

Goblin Valley has some very soft siltstone as well as the harder sandstone, and it's the mix of these two that allowed erosion to proceed at different paces, leaving some smoother and harder rock above the siltstone that continues to wear away today.

Just outside of Goblin Valley, one can find the typical cliffs and narrows that Utah is famous for. Moominmama got to hike a wonderful loop: Little Wild Horse Canyon to Bell Canyon, which featured numerous slot canyons.

The hiking trails are in the washes created by water channels that have smoothed the canyon walls for millennia. This leaves remarkable flowing patterns as you pass through the slots. 

Some of the ones in Little Wild Horse Canyon get really narrow too. No way a wild horse would make it through some of the tighter squeezes! But in spots, the washes open up into verdant open areas surrounded by high cliffs. 

These are some of my favorite places. They are like secret gardens discovered after passing through mysterious tunnels.

Spring has arrived here in Utah, and Moominmama is stumbling on brightly colored flowers as she hikes. She's also found a new warning sign to add to the collection: "Trail ahead may contain quicksand." I took a pass on that particular route.

I have one more day here in Goblin Valley then plan to take my chances at getting a campsite near Canyonlands National Park. If all goes to plan, that will be my final desert post. I leave you with a view of the Three Sisters, one of the landmarks in Goblin Valley State Park.