High on a creek full of water

14 08 2024

Hold onto your paddles, folks, have I got some rainwater for you. πŸ™‚

Brought to you courtesy of Mother Nature –> Southwest Colorado –> Disappointment Valley –> Spring Creek Basin:

A full water-catchment trough is always a good sign. Fortunately, though low (in the tank, uphill behind me), we’ve had enough rain lately to keep this trough full – and there have been a fair number of horses drinking here with the amazing grass around (don’t let the pic fool you; the galleta, in particular, is bonkers this year, along with the alkali sacaton). I may have explained this in the past, but it bears repeating: The triangular sheet of metal over the trough is an evaporation cover, designed to help slow evaporation of precious water in our (usually) dry climate. The shape of the cover is triangular so the horses have plenty of room to drink at the sides of the round trough.

The Flat Top pond looks small in this wide-angle view looking eastish across Spring Creek Basin, but although it has gotten pretty shallow in recent years, it’s a pretty good size.

Good thing I scouted the V-arroyo before I tried to cross it. Those are my tentative footprints in the pillowy, shoe-grabbing – and tire-stopping – mud in the center bottom of the pic. You might not think it’s too bad, but there’s a lot of water in/under that surface mud still, and it is NOT friendly to tires or shoes until it has a chance to seep deeper into the soil and dry out from the bottom up. Along the left side of the pic is the arroyo – we’re looking upstream. The bottom of the arroyo, where I’m standing on relatively firm ground, isn’t very wide (hence my name of the “V”-arroyo), and the road rises to my left – up a little water-carved bank that’s nothing like the wall still in place on the other side of the first Spring Creek crossing.

Holy Spring, err, RIVER! I know it’s hard to tell, but this is the first crossing of the usually-dry arroyo that is Spring Creek (when it’s not masquerading as a rainwater-swollen river). Yes, the other side is a road. πŸ™‚ Well, it’s mostly a two-tiered wall; the right side of it is where I dug a channel in the wall the last time the creek ran (back in June) so I could get my ATV across and up and over. It has been widened by crazy people in a truck (I don’t know who … I don’t know anyone that silly/stupid/nutso), but it’s greatly eroded again and is going to need some custom shovel work. (And lowering of the water level. :)) The width here is probably about 25 yards? (Good darting distance.) And this water level is at least 4-5 feet below where it was at its highest/widest mark, behind me, so it’s already running with less volume than at its peak. (WoW!)

I took a lot of pix from here, and I wish I knew how to embed video; I’m still on a super-high from seeing all that water. Bear with me as I show you some upstream and downstream and high-vantage pix. (If you don’t think water in the desert is A BIG DEAL, you don’t live in a desert.)

Looking downstream. Note the two-tiered wall across the creek where the road is (should be). Most of the rocks at left are from previous flooding. But I will tell you, that kind of water can move BIG rocks. I have seen it, and I have moved big (enough) rocks out of the way of crossing in a vehicle or ATV. This is why the powers that be warn people against crossing flooded roads; that water literally grooves arroyos into our salt-desert landscape (milennia ago, this was under a giant ocean!).

Arroyo as defined by Merriam Webster: plural arroyos. 1. : a waterway (as a creek) in a dry region. 2. : an often dry gully or channel carved by water.). … Arroyos are a desert’s proof of water movement – that far bank/wall is much taller than I am. The wall where the road used to be is proof that they’re always changing – with more water.

Looking upstream. Note the water at far right; it was still finding ways to trickle along downstream.

A bit wider view from back up the road a bit. I mean … ?! πŸ™‚ I knew, before ever I got there, that I wouldn’t be able to cross, but I did NOT know how river-esque Spring Creek would be. I love, love, love this place.

Similar view, but this shows the bend in the creek at right. … Try to follow me upstream: See McKenna Peak (the pyramid-shaped pointy peak)? Way back there is the source/start of Spring Creek, which – as you all know, being loyal, wonderful readers of this blog – drains Spring Creek BASIN (along with all its multitude of widely (and narrowly) and wildly variable tributary arroyos). As you may or may not know, the creek doesn’t roll in a straight line from there to here (or beyond/behind/downstream of me). So that bend goes around to the left – upstream of the southernmost *major* drainage/arroyo in the basin – and past another creek/arroyo crossing (below the dugout, if you’ve visited). It comes from the eastish side of the basin – with the northernmost *major* drainage/arroyo entering from the northish to also run back to (really from) the northeast. Are you still with me? There are three *major* drainages in Spring Creek Basin with Spring Creek being the lowest, middle drainage – named as the very-most-major drainage and namesake of the basin it drains.

Water is important here. Knowing how it flows is part of the importance. Back in the very-long-ago day, some other silly people – who apparently didn’t know about arroyos and the highly-erodable quality of the salt-desert soil – tried to dam Spring Creek just below the confluence of the third major arroyo. Thinking they would create a reservoir out of which to irrigate land for farming (what WERE they thinking?), they built a dam and dredged miles of irrigation ditch; the remains of both can still be seen. As the story goes, the first major rain of the (likely monsoon?) season brought water rolling like a river down every tiny arroyo, down to and through the big drainages, blasted a hole in the dam that likely had cost boatloads of blood and sweat and resulted in tears (!) … and they went away *disappointed* (har har). … Mother Nature always wins, folks.

Well, I knew better than to attempt the crossing of Spring Creek Basin’s *river* (without more rain … which we’re getting again as I type … the creek would likely be done flowing within 24 hours … though the water will last in pockets and seeps for a good long while), so despite the big group of a couple of bands of mustangs not far away, I headed out, already on a great big, marvelous high.

What you’re looking at in the pic above is our crazy-good grass, which amazes me because of the little – but always valuable – rain we’ve gotten this summer (this year, really; it’s been pretty darn dry since *last* year). The galleta grass is particularly bonkers this year, along with the sand dropseed and/or alkali sacaton (very similar in appearance). This is from right inside the basin’s main/western boundary entrance looking eastish.

From here, my next destination was the south rim of Spring Creek canyon, through which water runs out of Spring Creek Basin, out across lower Disappointment Valley and into Disappointment Creek, which delivers water – along with a “healthy” (aka large) dose of salt and sediment (apologies) – to the grand and spectacular Dolores River.

Spring Creek, draining Spring Creek Basin. πŸ™‚ Around the near (left) bend, before the far bend, there’s a fence across the wide-open low ground and a water gap across the creek; that’s the basin’s western boundary. Way yonder, on the horizon, on the far side of the farthest rimrock and even beyond that blue-grey tide of rain, is the south shoulder of eastern Utah’s La Sal Mountains.

Not even my phone’s widest angle is wide enough to take in all the gorgeousity of Spring Creek through its canyon, so here’s another bit of view that takes in more of the upstream canyon area. Spring Creek Basin stretches north (straight ahead of me) and east (to my right) and south (behind me) from this perspective on the canyon’s south rim.

Those layers. The canyon is neither super deep nor particularly long. But it is so gorgeous.

In just the short time I walked out and spent along the rim, the storm to the west was already passing.

Looking upstream across the heart of Spring Creek Basin, where another storm loomed on the northeastern/eastern/southeastern horizon.

And because this is a blog about the wild horses of Spring Creek Basin, there IS a mustang out there, though I’m not sure he’s visible. As far as I know, the young mister is the only one to have crossed the creek (within view, anyway). πŸ™‚

Grow, grass, grow!

Better late than never (this was the last day of specific rain in the forecast). I think we can be said to have gotten some monsoon rains this summer. Despite all the worry leading to this day (yesterday), soooo amazingly grateful. πŸ™‚

* Thanks to Charley Pride for the inspiration behind this post’s title – “(High on a) Mountain of Love.”





Progression

5 07 2024

I mean, wow, right? Does anyone doubt this latest proof of magic in Disappointment Valley (or on planet Earth?)? πŸ™‚ That was absolutely as wide as my cell-phone camera could go; the rainbow was (seemed to be) right above me.

As usual, the rain forming the prism of the rainbows fell in the atmosphere, but not much actually made it to Earth.

And after sunset, this was the storm to the southeast. Only in a video clip was I able to catch the lightning bolts. Time between first and third photo: about an hour and 15 minutes. (And that rain didn’t make it to my location, either. I’m not greedy, but it’s still annoying to have rain *that close*! :))





Some post-rain magic

1 07 2024

A recent selection of post-rain images:

The water trough at the main/original water catchment is full again. The tank has about 3 feet of water. It has been mostly dry with a poor winter and without much rain.

Post-rain grass growth! If you live east of the Rockies and in places where it, you know, rains, this might look sparse. … To us, it looks lush and divine! And I will tell you, the mustangs are going after it with gusto!

Do you see the pillar of light? The clouds were heavy the last part of the day (and they and the breeze dropped the mercury comfortably), but then, at THE very end of the day, the sun found a window, and it lit up the basin.

Did you think I was exaggerating? πŸ™‚ As usual, the pic doesn’t do justice to the colors of reality.

I couldn’t decide between the really long, wide view or the slightly zoomed-in view, so you get both. πŸ™‚

Just another glorious day in Spring Creek Basin. I promise, pix of ponies are on the way.

P.S. Happy July. πŸ™‚





‘After’ is the very best

30 06 2024

I think – I hope – that these pix truly are worth 1,000 (or more!) words … but I’m going to give you a few more anyway. πŸ™‚

This is the east-pocket pond, aptly named as it’s located in Spring Creek Basin’s east pocket. This isn’t the only pond that suddenly has water after Thursday’s tremendous downpour, but it’s the only one of which I have a “before” pic.

“Before” was a little after noon on June 27, a few hours before the four-hour deluge. “After” was about 26 hours later on June 28.

Maybe, if you look closely, you can see a band of greys at far distant left in the pond-now-full pic. Fortunately, the horses have multiple sources of water now. It’s amazing how quickly things change (for the better, in this case!).





Happy, happy toads

29 06 2024

The toads are back! I *think* this is a red spotted toad, but I am no toad expert.

Why are the toads back?

WE.

GOT.

RAIN!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!

When you get only a bit more than half an inch in almost three months, then you get enough rain in two consecutive days to push that above an inch … THEN you get 1.66 inches of rain in four hours … the toads start thrumming their joy. Sure, sure, it’s mating season (dependent on water?!), but I’m pretty sure they’re happy to finally have some water.

*I’M* happy to have water, for the toads and the mustangs and all of the critters who depend on water in the desert.





Not good-bye, fare thee well

24 06 2024

Readers of this blog know that I/we have enjoyed a particularly good partnership with our BLM folks for the last nearly decade, in huge part because of rangeland management specialist and Spring Creek Basin herd manager Mike Jensen.

Our PZP program was implemented during the 2011 roundup, before Mike returned to herd manager duties (he was herd manager here first in the early 2000s), but Mike has been an absolutely staunch supporter of the program. It was under Mike’s leadership that we were able to get bait trapping solidified as the capture method of choice (when the time comes), and because of Mike’s dedication to vegetation monitoring, for the 2020 herd management area plan update, we had the data necessary to allow the increase in AML (appropriate management level) from 35 to 65 adult horses to 50 to 80 adult horses. That, combined with the very successful PZP program, has meant an astounding 13 years to date since the last roundup and removal of any Spring Creek Basin mustangs.

Mike is the BLM partner every advocate wishes for and we have been so very fortunate to have.

Under Mike’s leadership, Spring Creek Basin Herd Management Area is a model that other BLM managers and advocates can aspire to. (That’s not arrogance; that’s pure gratitude.)

As I described in yesterday’s post, last week, Mike and Tres Rios Field Office Manager Derek Padilla came to Spring Creek Basin for the field trip with Colorado Wild Horse Working Group members. I take every opportunity offered to describe Mike’s work ethic, partnership and support of our mustangs to anyone who will listen, but this was the first opportunity for group members and our Colorado advocates to see him in action as he talked about the history of Spring Creek Basin as a herd management area and our accomplishments in both herd management and the projects we’ve completed for the benefit of the mustangs. Naturally, everyone wants a Mike clone for their areas. πŸ™‚

By the time we reached the day’s end goal and turnaround spot – the northwest-valley water catchment we built in 2022 – we were down to our local advocates and a Jeep-full of advocates from the other herds.

And because Mike retires Friday from a long (30 years) career with the Bureau of Land Management, we local advocates wanted to take advantage of the last opportunity we’d likely have Mike in Spring Creek Basin to mark the occasion, wish him well and give him a token of our appreciation.

Left to right: Mike Jensen, Frank Amthor, Tif Rodriguez, Pat Amthor and yours truly.

Thank you, Mike, for being such a champion for wild horse management here in Spring Creek Basin, for being a true partner, for being one of the people I respect most in this world. We wish you well in retirement! Don’t be a stranger. πŸ™‚





Much anticipated RAIN

22 06 2024

This targeted downpour over southeastern Spring Creek Basin and upper-ish Disappointment Valley was by no means the only rain we got in the last couple of days. And it probably wasn’t even the most dramatic. But it sure was cool. πŸ™‚

Depending on the part of the valley, we got anywhere from half an inch to probably at least an inch of rain between Thursday afternoon and Friday evening. Every drop is so very welcome.





Winner: Best nap spot

13 05 2024

More Hollywood. … Yes, he was very relaxed on this very windy, dusty, hazy day in Spring Creek Basin. πŸ™‚





Just sauntering along

9 05 2024

Ah, to be wild and free in such a glorious place. πŸ™‚





Worth the crawl

2 05 2024

If you’re afraid of heights, you’d have had a hard time hiking with me to this spot … because I had to crawl, on hands and knees, hoping the wind wasn’t stronger than my body weight (no chance of that –ha!) because the width of the finger of shale I crawled up on to get to where I’m sitting on the ground to take this pic (below what you can see) was not much wider than my four-square hands and knees. Let’s just say that I didn’t take in the view – or the drop to either side – until I got to this point and shimmied around onto my derriΓ¨re!

What. A. VIEW!

If I say that frequently about Spring Creek Basin, who could blame me – or argue? πŸ™‚

Bonus: It’s starting to look a little green, eh? … Just a little?!

Bonus No. 2:

I knew I was going to find Sundance’s and Storm’s band up top (you think I did a death-defying hands-and-knees crawl for my health!?), but I also found Mr. Hollywood! This pic can’t begin to do justice to this view: It’s still a ridge, though it’s (much) wider than where I crawled up. The horses had already moseyed to the far end by the time I crawled and walked up to this point, which is just above and behind my spot in the first pic. You might have to zoom in to see them.

The horses take me to all the very BEST places! πŸ™‚ There will be pix of them to come in future posts.

Oh, and I forgot to mention that although the horses didn’t follow my route UP (!!!!), they had been DOWN that little ridge – at least to the end – by the existence of desiccated manure. (Really, you find it in the craziest places!)