Spectacularity

21 10 2026

In yesterday’s post, I promised for today’s post pix of a fairly stunning storm system that blew up over Disappointment Valley in the mid-or-so afternoon through sunset. This will be a photo-heavy (heavy on the heavy) post. The pix also are all from my phone. The immense scale simply wasn’t possible to capture with my long lens and narrow range of view. A few times, I wished I’d gone to the effort of getting my camera out of my backpack … but most of the time, I was too afraid to miss one second of what was happening, and, again, the sheer width of scale of the storm’s coverage across the horizon(s) was just too, well, wide.

I hate to be one of those telling you to “read through till the end” for the best part, but … well, let me know whether the final pix, of sunset light in the EAST, were worth waiting for.

Onward!

As wide a field of view as my phone can capture, it took four images, stitched into a panorama, to produce this image, looking from southeast at right to north-northeast at left. So if possible, imagine the scene not as a flat, two-dimensional view but as a curved (?) view. The storm definitely was coming from the southeast and moving north (left) … and around/beyond the basin, across the north, to the west? I sat for a long time at the main/original catchment watching it and taking pix as the sky evolved – in sunshine the entire time.

This was the first pic I actually took. There’s a pretty obvious downpour straight ahead, which is basically east-northeastish. It was not raining over Spring Creek Basin at this point, but the clouds were definitely shading the far, whole eastern horizon. Thunder was rumbling now and then, but I never saw lightning. The vast majority of the basin was under sunlight. There ARE mustangs way, way out, at the leftish side of the image.

A little more detail of the rain running across the landscape from near/over (?) Benchmark Lookout (at the leftish side of the dark hump of “hill” at far right) across upper Disappointment Valley and beyond Temple Butte (the edge of the promontory is just spotlit by a bit of sunlight).

And swinging a bit more to look east.

Meanwhile, a lighter rain system was moving north to the northWEST. You might be able to make out Utah’s La Sal Mountains through the curtain of rain (way) beyond Spring Creek canyon.

This is roughly what that looked like on the radar (a little delayed, I think). The blue dot was me, in the middle, in the sunshine. 🙂

There are the mountains; see ’em? I think the rain was moving across lower Disappointment Valley and maybe/probably not quite as far west as Utah. I’ve been in the same place taking all these pix (I sat there for quite a long time): at the road by the fenced-enclosed aprons that catch rain (and snow in the winter) and direct that water down to the 12,000-gallon green steel tank … and from there to the main water trough you can see downhill and to the right of the tank. (The farther, smaller, black trough is wired off because it’s a lot smaller, and darker, and the horses don’t prefer it. The big trough is the main trough. You can’t quite tell from this distance, but it has a triangular metal cover over it that enables the horses to get to the water and also helps prevent evaporation (or better than it would be if uncovered).)

And looking southeastish again. Apologies (not really) for the redundant pix … but this is one of my favorite views in the whole, great, wide and wild world … especially when it includes rain!

See how DARK it got to the northeast? Again, that’s beyond Spring Creek Basin – at least at this point (spoiler alert). But see that lit “column” of rain? Wild? I spent a lot of time and phone space taking pix of that cool thing as it moved with the storm system across the northern horizon toward the west (and I was in sunshine all the while).

Checking the progress of the rain to the east-southeast again. At this point, I think it was getting closer to Temple Butte – the rain, not just the shade of the rain clouds.

Another look up to the northeastish at that remarkable flame of spotlit rain. Notice, too, that we’re starting to get a great shadow of clouds over a great portion of the basin now. (I promise there were mustangs out there; I was watching about five bands way, way out while I watched the spectacular sky-show.)

I mean …

… it was …

… just soooooo …

… COOL!

Checking northwest again, over the canyon. That’s the north side at right, and you can just see part of the south side at far left. It’s not that wide; it curves a lot.

Ah! Rain has made it far enough west to cover Temple Butte (the promontory), at least, and maybe reaching McKenna Peak (the pyramid) and the eastern part of Spring Creek Basin. But note how sunny it still is.

Another very wide-angle view (just one frame). At farthest right, definitely getting rained on now: Temple Butte and McKenna Peak. At left, the remnants of that crazy … I don’t even know what to call that?! Looking like someone was shining a gigantic spotlight from the ground to the heavens. And still, I’m sitting in the sunshine.

At that point, I decided to head out. I wasn’t sure about crossing the V-arroyo (it gets pretty pillowy-muddy in heavy rain and is difficult to impossible to cross in that state), and most of the horses were well north of that point – and that’s before you even get to the first Spring Creek crossing. While thunder had been rumbling like a slightly disgruntled giant, I hadn’t seen any lightning, but in the wide open, I have a healthy respect for it (and a recent encounter of a near-simultaneous lightning-strike-thunder-CRACK is pretty close to front of mind lately).

Now I’m at Chrome’s Point in the far western part of Spring Creek Basin, and rain definitely is falling within the basin’s boundaries to the east. If you zoom in on Temple Butte and McKenna Peak, below the left base of McKenna in the golden-landscape area, you’ll see the fenced-in water-catchment aprons (looks a bit like a tennis court). On the road, just left of the far side of the fence corner is where I sat to take all the photos above this one.

And from Chrome’s Point looking northish (leftish is almost directly northish). Can you tell that the storm was moving across our north to the west (left)? I know that if you’re not familiar with the area, it’s hard!

So I left the basin thinking “what a great show put on by Mother Nature!” And also that at least the eastern-northeastern part of the basin looked to be getting some of the good wet stuff (which was not in the forecast, by the way). …

Yowza! That’s RAIN. Over SPRING CREEK BASIN! This is looking east while heading south on Disappointment Road, well west of the basin. …

Wait. What is that … ?

What that, you ask? THAT that!

It’s a DUST DEVIL. … With pouring rain in the background! Just like the weird rain column seen earlier from inside Spring Creek Basin, this dust devil was illuminated by the sunlight hitting that part of Disappointment Valley west of Spring Creek Basin (the ridge topped by rimrock at far right is part of the basin’s western boundary). See the far-far ridgeline curtained by rain? That’s the very same northeastern ridge that meets the sky in the previous pix taken within Spring Creek Basin.

I was so wowed that I was standing in the middle of the road holding my phone up and out in the classic pose as a truck was approaching. Fortunately, it was someone who knows me and knows my photo-centricity, and he kindly did not run me over. 🙂

Kinda great for zilch on the rain front in the forecast, eh? 🙂 And I will tell you that the ground was still satisfyingly damp out in the basin last night (as you read this), and now we have another day or three or five (who really knows?!) of rain chances in the forecast.

See the rainbow prism? That’s directly over Filly Peak in Spring Creek Basin.

Did I mention there’s snow again on the mountains on our northwestern horizon (Utah’s La Sals)? As a point of interest, Mount Peale is the highest peak in the range at “12,721 to 12,726 feet.” Moab is on the other side.

There was just about every bit of light imaginable during the time I watched the storm pass: glorious sunlight to dappled light to ominous rain-darkness. Something else interesting? I never got so much as sprinkled on, no matter where I was.

Oh yeah, and the light that produced multi-colored rainbow prisms (can you call it a rainbow if it doesn’t form a bow?). I think there were at least five, maybe six of these prisms. None formed a complete rainbow (if you can believe it), and none of them lasted very long … except this next one:

See the rainbow forming at upper left? (And check out that spotlight at farthest right!) Unfortunately, the prism was faint while the spotlight was on Buck Knob and its vibrant redrock layers, but, um, WOW.

It’s getting a little more visible …

The. Light. Was. Phenomenal.

The cottonwoods along the bottom of this pic line Disappointment Creek. Spring Creek is farther north, running out of Spring Creek Basin, which is to the right/east. They both run westish; Spring Creek runs into Disappointment Creek, and, eventually, FARTHER west, Disappointment Creek carries all its salt and sediment into the Dolores River. This view is looking purty near north. The shorter, yellow-y-er (that’s a word, creatively speaking) vegetation is willow and maybe some rabbitbrush/chamisa, too. The cottonwoods at this elevation are just starting to go gold.

Do you start to see why there are so many pix in this post?! The light KEPT CHANGING. What the heck are those beams right of center?! I never did figure it out.

Wide-wide view for perspective. The road runs straight east here.

And on I went up-valley (to the southeast). I mean, who knew what else Mother Nature had in store?

Disappointment Creek. Picture NO water here, and that’s what it usually looks like. This was when I first realized how heavy the rain must have been that I’d seen earlier … remember the very first pix at the top of this post? Spring Creek Basin is across the road (that I’m on) to the left.

It’s really hard to understand how this is such an astounding view if you don’t know what it usually looks like, but for one thing, there are usually giant rocks visible in the creek bed there.

This is Black Snag Road; Disappointment Road is about 100 yards behind me. … Actually, this is Disappointment Creek – err, river – making fun of the idea of there being a road under that rollin’ water (let alone a culvert … ha ha ha!?). This is where I wish I was adept at video and/or even knowing how to insert it. Because the sheer volume of NOISE (let alone water) was INCREDIBLE. Larry W. is the Dolores County road guy for this part of Disappointment Road; I couldn’t help but think of him while I watched this; it will fall to him to fix this … eventually.

That pile of dark dirt is sort of the edge of … well … where the water shouldn’t have gone around?! Seriously, do not mess with Mother Nature. She makes her own paths.

I’m not entirely sure where those rocks would have come from. I hadn’t been down to look at the crossing for quite a while until this moment, but the road is sort of … there.

It was hard to take a still pic that conveyed the noise and just sheer quantity of water rolling through the *ahem* creek bed. You see the rocks … and up to the right is a WAVE of mud-water. I think the culvert is sort of in that area? And/or rocks meant to stabilize it and the edge of the road.

Disappointment River. 🙂 Seriously.

Meanwhile, this was happening behind me (as I looked at the river, err, creek crossing); looking in this direction, the creek is behind me. Disappointment Road runs across the base of the pic; down-valley (northwestish) is left, and up-valley (southeastish) is right. The fence along the road – the boundary of Spring Creek Basin – is visible at left and right. The foreground is part of Spring Creek Basin Herd Management Area, but Temple Butte – lit up at right – is outside the basin, as is McKenna Peak, the tip and eroded slopes of which are visible at left.

Nope, it was not over!

Disappointment Creek flowing downstream from just upstream of the Black Snag Road crossing.

It was *this* close to sunset. 🙂

Mother Nature wasn’t close to done for the day.

I mean … can you die of absolute, heart-bursting joy at the gorgeousity of the world?! Hopefully not; too much yet to see. I hope you’ve stuck with me. … Really, it gets BETTER.

Are you sitting down? You might want to sit down.

As I went back down-valley, THAT was happening behind me. Ahead of me (behind me as I take these pix), to the west, the clouds were nearly gone, the sky nearly clear again. The color was all back to the east. (Note: These horses are not in Spring Creek Basin. I’ve never crossed over here, but this sunset was too amazing not to share, and this is where I was when I saw it.)

My jaw might have been on the ground. I hope you find these colors and cloud shapes impressive. … The pix don’t really do it justice; it was one of the top most spectacular sunsets I’ve seen in my life.

I might finally have run out of words.

Was it worth it? 🙂

WHAT. A. DAY!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!

Mama Nature, I never cease to be amazed. Keep on rockin’, Lady.

Thanks for coming along. 🙂





Some relief

14 07 2026

This pic, taken Sunday from between the main/original water catchment and Filly Peak in Spring Creek Basin, is looking southeast toward the Glade and Benchmark Lookout. A few days before, I’d seen the red swaths of retardant across the trees while looking at smoke up there, but I didn’t manage to get a decent pic that showed it. While fire continues to smoke in that area (that’s the Ferris Fire’s northeastern edge), clearly firefighters and aircraft pilots have been hard at work. So hugely grateful! Rick and Linda Freimuth, who staff the tower during the fire season (!!!) hope get the green light to return this week. The mustangs and I (you know they would if they could) will be cheering their return.

Now, some taken yesterday (Monday):

Storm brewing to the east. Spring Creek Basin’s western rimrocks and Filly Peak (lower left) are in sunshine, while Temple Butte, McKenna Peak, Brumley Point and the basin’s eastern ridges are shadowed by rain! Woo-the-heck-hoo!

Looking back to the west from the same spot as above. More rain! What looks like white smoke on the horizon at left IS smoke from the Ferris Fire … and I hope it got a good dose of the wet stuff. It wasn’t a high-rain-chance day, but toss the forecast and let ‘er rain!

Methinks the weather wizards were outsmarted by Ma Nature herself. 😉 RAIN, BABY, RAIN! This is from Chrome’s Point in western Spring Creek Basin, looking eastish at a curtain of rain that DID, as I was taking pix, make its way west. Unfortunately, I didn’t get tooooo wet. Ha – I would not have minded!

Ants congregating at the entrance to their mound. Apparently, “Ants congregate at their mound entrances after rain primarily to survive flooding. When underground tunnels fill with water, the colony is forced to evacuate. They move the queen, larvae, and food upward to escape the saturation, using the surface or mound entrance as a temporary, elevated sanctuary.” Interestingly, these ants and others I saw doing the same thing in the same relative area happened to be on some of the highest ground in the basin, near the western boundary. I guess that when you’re an ant, everything is at the elevation of ground level (ha ha!).

From the south wall of Spring Creek canyon looking eastish after the rain (it didn’t last very long, unfortunately).

Hope you don’t mind this view! It’s pretty spectacular. No, that’s not a road down there in the canyon; that’s Spring Creek arroyo, and just beyond (lower left), it leaves Spring Creek Basin to cross lower-ish Disappointment Valley on its way to join Disappointment Creek (neither of which are carrying water at the moment).

See the pinto pony? This is from the same point as the above two pix, looking generally northwestish across lower Disappointment Valley toward Utah’s La Sal Mountains. There’s a fence across this lower end of the canyon to keep the mustangs within Spring Creek Basin, and there’s a water gap (hanging PVC pipes to move when water DOES flow) across the Spring Creek arroyo. There are a couple of manmade structures down there, one behind McKenna and one kind of in front of him.

As it turned out, though he and his pal and a band were in the vicinity – and the reason I walked out – it was something else entirely that actually took me all the way to the canyon rim. … And that will wait for another post because I got some pix that knocked even my socks off.

To end this post, news that I never want to post because I want it to never have happened, some really tragic news from the Gold Mountain Fire near Ouray and Ridgway: A pilot was killed Sunday when his aircraft, used to aid firefighting efforts on that fire, crashed into Silver Jack Reservoir, in southwestern Gunnison County, on the northeast side of the fire. It’s the worst of all news to lose another firefighter. 😦





Perspective

9 07 2026

After some reports from different sources of tiny bits of rain here and there (Tuesday day/night, maybe some drips Wednesday), the sky was much more our normal and beloved Colorado-blue than we’ve seen in a run of smoky days. Ferris Fire (60,104 acres as of Wednesday night) smoke at left; Babylon Fire (101,073 acres) smoke at right. Looking mostly south.

The fire must have gotten into some new, untouched fuels by evening because by 7 p.m. or later, it was really sending up a plume. That’s Filly Peak in the near background, and you can see a bit how perspective matters: Not only is the fire not directly behind it, it’s not *super* closely behind/south of Disappointment Valley’s south ridges. (I did still see a little line of smoke in the Ryman Creek area a bit later.) Mustang ponies in the middle ground, napping.

This and the above pic toward Filly Peak were taken from the same vantage point: Chrome’s Point in Spring Creek Basin’s far western region (not far from the rimrocked western boundary). This one is looking slightly leftish of Filly Peak and southeast/east. The smoke is fairly faint … a MUCH better sight than we’ve had the last many days.

Those are more clouds than smokedrift, though, of course, there’s still smoke there from Utah’s huge Babylon Fire, now more than 101,000 acres. … Mother Nature is trying to stir up the clouds into delivering rain.

See the pillars of sunset glow at left? I love it when the sun waves goodnight to us like that.

A couple of links to articles I’ve found interesting recently:

Tribute paid to Emily Barker, Nick Hutcherson and Sydney Watson, who died fighting the Snyder Fire. Held in Grand Junction, Colorado. Impossible to imagine the pain of their families and colleagues and friends.

“Monsoon rains are on the horizon,” say the weather wizards, err, experts. We can only hope they’re finally going to be proved right. Some super heat is on tap first.

How some ranchers are coping with the stress of protecting their cattle and grazing lands. This really made me think of the hard-working ranchers I know.





Synchronous dusting

7 07 2026

Maiku and Corazon, of course, weren’t thinking of the humor, but in these wildfire days, I’ll take a smile at any opportunity. (Pic from a couple of days ago; yesterday was basically a brown haze nearly all day.)

Fire news: The Ferris Fire is 51,622 acres as of Monday night, and containment has increased to 22 percent. Nearly 540 people are working on this fire, and I would lay a bet that all surrounding residents are unimaginably grateful for every single one of them. Isn’t that pretty fabulous? We may not know any one of them; we love each and every one of them for fighting for OUR lands, our homes, our wildlife, our lives. No caveats, just absolute and total gratitude.

I got lucky with timing on this one, which *was* taken yesterday evening from Chrome’s Point in the basin. It was around 6:30 p.m., and the chopper was heading north from the Ferris Fire, likely back to base in … Montrose? Grand Junction? I wanted to jump up and down and wave and flash high fives, but I probably looked like an ant.

Or possibly a humanoid alien. 🙂 The smoke was bad enough when I set out that I added a mask to my accoutrements. By the time of this pic (sunset-ish yesterday), I may not have needed it, but maybe safer than sorrier? And take a gander to the far northwest mountains (Utah’s La Sals). Is that virga?!? One (and probably a whole lot more than this (some)one) can only hope that even some of that was hitting the parched earth.





Close to home

28 06 2026

This won’t be an easy post to either read or view.

*THE MUSTANGS ARE SAFE*

That’s the important thing (as far as the main topic of this blog, anyway).

Yesterday, Saturday, June 27, at least three wildfires of significance roared to life directly south of Disappointment Valley: Ferris Fire (4,777 acres as of Saturday evening), Far Draw Fire (651 acres) and Doe Canyon Fire (385 acres). There’s also the Horse Head Fire (200 acres) burning to the southwest, in Utah, and the Snyder Fire (28,264 acres) burning north-northwest of here, almost directly west of Grand Junction and just inside Utah.

Red-flag warnings; check.

Wind advisories; check.

Bad air quality; check.

Critical fire weather; check.

Stage 2 fire restrictions in San Miguel and Montrose counties; check (these might extend to other nearby counties, but these are the ones I know about, and most of Spring Creek Basin is in San Miguel County, with the southern/southeastern portion in Dolores County).

Kentucky is flooded, and the West is on fire. Friday night, we had a swift little storm pass through Disappointment Valley – 0.04 inch from four minutes of rain. My guess (guess only; I don’t know yet the cause of these fires) is that they started from lightning strikes. It is one giant tinder box out there. Until the little bit of rain Wednesday, it hadn’t rained here for more than a month.

If images of wildfire smoke bother you (it bothers me), the rest of this post isn’t for you … and the pictures, as usual, don’t convey the bad-ness of the beast. … Again, please know that the mustangs are SAFE. I can’t say what the fires will or will not do, but for now, the horses are OK and not in danger.

I spent most of Saturday in Ridgway with mustang friends, and this is what greeted me and Kat Wilder upon our return to Disappointment Valley. This is from the northern part of the valley, a few miles south of Colorado Highway 141, looking southeast.

Looking west at sunset; this smoke is from the Utah fires.

The majority of the smoke seems to be passing east of the eastern side of Spring Creek Basin; McKenna Peak, Temple Butte and Brumley Point are all visible. … The smoke ain’t great up-valley; it smells like you’re in the middle of a campfire (and by the way, campfires and any other kind of fires are strictly verboten (that means forbidden!), not to mention dumb as hell).

Stage 2 fire restrictions in San Miguel County, Colorado:

Stage II Restrictions

The following are prohibited under Stage II restrictions:

  1. Open Fires
    1. No campfires, charcoal grills, wood-burning stoves, chimineas, tiki torches, or any open flames, even at private homes or campgrounds.
    2. Gas grills or propane stoves are allowed if they can be turned on and off, and only in areas cleared of flammable materials.
  2. Smoking except within an enclosed vehicle or building
  3. Chainsaws or other equipment powered by an internal combustion engine, unless it has a working spark arresting device
  4. Outdoor welding or acetylene torches unless in a cleared area at least 10 feet wide and a pressurized fire extinguisher must be on hand
  5. Off-road driving or parking: vehicles must stay on established roads, trails, or parking areas. No parking over dry grass.
  6. Explosives and fireworks

Post-sunset looking west again. … This is NOT the “red glare” we like to see. 😦

Please, please be careful out there.





A few of my favorite things

1 10 2025

Mustangs, Spring Creek Basin, water and aspen – all in the same view. Many of my favorite things. 🙂





‘I love magic’

26 08 2024

Prepare ye for brilliance.

When I went into the basin Saturday evening, this was the view to the northwest beyond Spring Creek Basin, its namesake canyon and lower Disappointment Valley. You can just see eastern Utah’s northern La Sal Mountains at the right edge of the vast curtain of storm-rain.

This pic, with its sage-covered foreground, semi-jagged horizon and gorgeous-glorious sky with angel rays above an isolated downpour of distant rain, illustrates *The West* to me.

Fast forward a couple of hours, and this was developing above our southeastern horizon: end of Valentine Mesa, Temple Butte, McKenna Peak, the crowns of submarine ridge and Brumley Point over Knife Edge, The Glade in the far distance (hi, Rick!) beyond Round Top and Flat Top.

At the same time as above, this was the view to the west. I thought we were going to get last light through that window to the right of the sun, but the clouds had other ideas.

While my very long lens is perfect for capturing pix of the mustangs, not even my wide-angle lens (if I’d had it along) is wide enough for this amazing view of Storm’s band under the, uh, storm clouds (he WAS born under a storm!).

The light on those clouds – and the very far ridges (bottom center between submarine ridge and Brumley Point) – with that narrow band of dark, dark blue (that’s rain away off yonder) … WOW. And just right of very bottom center is a young wild pony who recently left his family and is usually with a calm elder-ish bachelor but this evening was having fun (between peaceful-grazing energy-restoration periods) creating havoc among a few other widespread bands.

Storm at right heading back to his band after leaving a deposit on a stud pile on the road (where I am … really needing to leave as dark approaches but unwilling to leave the gorgeousity).

Other than sharpening, this pic is exactly as it came out of my phone’s most-excellent camera (how DID we survive without cameras in our phones that we can take to the wildest places on Earth?! I won’t be without my camera-cameras … but I do love my phone’s camera for the wide, wild shots). Nerd info: The other pix also had some shadow-lightening applied (with sharpening) to better see the horses in the foreground, but that’s it. WHO NEEDS AI when you have this kind of light happening right in front of you????

It’s straight-up magic, folks. Ma Nature is kind of a genius. 🙂 All I do is point and click. And share. 🙂

We didn’t get rain out of either of those storms … but we got *divine* and very fabulous rain Sunday morning!

(Thanks to Harry Potter for this post’s title/quote!)





Watchers

15 06 2023

Something a little different today inspired by a recent introduction.

Pictured are three bands in what I call the east pocket of Spring Creek Basin. It’s hard to get to because of the current condition of the road, but it has always been one of my favorite places in the basin, and this season, some of the horses seem to agree.

A few weeks ago, I got a message from Rick Freimuth, who is a firewatcher based at Benchmark Lookout in the San Juan National Forest. He shared with me a glorious sunset pic he had posted recently from the tower and said that just a little outside the frame of the photo was Disappointment Valley – and Spring Creek Basin. As it turned out, I had recently taken a pic in which I included the ridgeline on which the lookout tower stands, so I sent it to him in turn.

Later, I specifically took these pix, from the east pocket looking southward toward the Glade and Benchmark Lookout to share with Rick and his wife, Linda.

See the tower? Highest ridge at upper right.

Benchmark Lookout stands tall, amid aspen and ponderosa forests and looks out over VAST country – all over southwestern Colorado and into Utah.

Rick and Linda have an amazing job, and this 2020 Cortez Journal article highlights the work they do to assist firefighters in the region. If their tower home looks like a lightning magnet, apparently it is! … But the VIEWS!

Years (and years) ago, I went up to Benchmark Lookout to do a story for the Dolores Star. Rick and Linda know Barbara Zinn, who was the lookout then. Words such as “incredible,” “marvelous,” “astounding,” “outstanding,” “amazing,” “fabulous,” “fantastic” … fall far short of the actual wonder of the view. From Spring Creek Basin, I often point out to visitors the tower standing guard over our cherished, local public lands.

Kudos to Rick and Linda and all the other firewatchers and protectors of Colorado’s (and America’s) public lands!