Receding Snow

I know you're dying to find out whether the Mirror Lake Highway is open.

There's still plenty of ice and snow, but a lot less than last week.

Even though the signs say the road is closed and there is no "winter maintenance," the crews have been working hard.

They've gotten as far as Bald Mountain. I'm guessing the road will go through to Evanston by next weekend.

The lower-elevation aspens know it's spring.

Now's the time to go if you want to see wildflowers.

Last year's snails have abandoned their homes.

But the plants are growing new.

Old trees are becoming new soil.

For new flowers.

There's plenty of evidence of animal life.

And a few live ones who are happy winter's over.

Memorial Day

Here are some Memorial Day Weekend pictures.




















Amy came for...actually, I'm not sure why she was here other than just to visit. She ran a half marathon in Syracuse with Jennifer (I know, when I dream of running, that's where I dream of, too). But it was nice to have her here.















This is the Saturday Cemetery Group.















On Monday we did a BBQ in Dad's backyard.















It seems some of the kids always head for this tree first thing.















And the red rock bench is popular for contemplating (how Parker ended up with the Radio Flyer umbrella, for example).















Amanda's puppy, Sasha.















Sara's puppy, Jackson. Which one is cuter? Sorry, Amanda.















I don't know what she did, but I think it was sneaky and involved water. (Look closely; Tanner is NOT picking his nose.)





















This is the Monday Cemetery Group.

Spring on the Mirror Lake Highway

It's May 24, and the Mirror Lake Highway is open to a couple miles above the Upper Provo River Falls.

If you go, you might have to sit in the car for a few minutes while the hail squall passes.

And you should take a rain jacket.

The river is carrying a lot of water.

There are actually several waterfalls, from tiny to big.

Later in the summer this side stream is probably just a trickle or nonexistent.

You would not want to fall in here.

This is the upper part of the Upper Falls, what you see from the main overlook.

There are more indications of spring here than rushing water.

Most of the young aspens survived the winter.

And they're starting to sprout green leaves in the lower parts of the canyon.

You can see lots of greens and yellows if you get out into the meadows.

I wish I'd paid attention in my botany class. Oh, wait. I never took a botany class. Too bad.

Did I mention the weather was a little wet today? A perfect day to observe flowers.

Too bad you can't smell pictures. The evergreens were so fresh and wet and piney.

Don't forget to see my blog from yesterday below.

Monster Museum

As a reward for his being extra good in preschool every day for a whole week, I took Jackson to Thanksgiving Point to the Dinosaur Museum.

The museum is pretty cool. It starts with life-size dioramas of archeologists or paleontologists (whichever one does the digging part) uncovering fossils.

There are quite a few dinosaurs of all varieties from trilobites to T-rexes.

Some things you can just look at, and other stuff is designed to play with. The museum really has activities and information for kids of all ages, from about three years old through about secondary school, I'd guess.

This diorama has a lot of hidden things to find, like dinosaur nests, and it shows what's happening where you can't see, like a big crocodile just below the water surface with its jaws almost clamping down on an apatosaurus's tail.

At a big water-and-sand trough with plastic dinosaurs the kids can build dams and then watch them get washed away to teach how quickly a dinosaur could be covered with sand and silt when it died, an important step in fossilization. In reality the kids just enjoy playing in the sand and water.

On the way out kids can sweep sand from dinosaur bones as a paleontologist might. (A couple of parents couldn't resist and climbed in the sandbox with the kids.)

Jackson chose a hot dog over a chicken or turkey sandwich for lunch. On the way home he said, "Now we can go to a restaurant." I said, "We already ate a hotdog." He said, "No, good food."

After the hotdog, we bought some popcorn and watched a 3D Imax dolphins-and-whales movie. Jackson said he was ready to go after about five minutes, and I fell asleep several times. The movie was a nice up-close, 3D look at different types of whales and dolphins, with a plea to save them. But there weren't even any shark attacks.

We had a good time together. Jackson is a nice guy to hang out with.

When we got back, Tanner said, "Grandpa, I want to go." I said, "Go where?" He said, "To the monster museum."

One More Peek at Crystal Peak

A few weeks ago, Randy and I tried to hike Crystal Peak, but we got fogged in, snowed on, wind blown, and otherwise frozen out for the most part. Yesterday the weather was supposed to be clear and 76 degrees, so we tried again.













After driving 234 miles, ignoring the Garmin for the most part because it kept telling us to go this way and that way on goofy little dirt roads--instead, we followed a nicely graded and graveled road until it dead-ended and we had to go back and follow the Garmin--we got a good view of Crystal Mountain.















But first we drove south out of Delta, instead of west as the Garmin instructed, and found Fort Deseret, an adobe fort built during the Black Hawk Indian Wars.





















Crystal Peak is a weird little volcanic-ash-and-pebble mountain that is almost more hardened mud than rock. It looks easy and ladder-like to climb, but this stuff breaks off like paper mache, and if your foothold gives way, the drop could be a few hundred feet. The summit is about 7,100 feet.















Often, what looks like a solid rock is hollow underneath.





















We reached about 7,000 feet before the route we selected got a little too risky for our blood.















The distant mountains to the west are probably in Nevada.















Speaking of blood, Crystal Mountain is probably equivalent to about 10-grit sandpaper embedded with sharp little rocks for good measure, and the bushes are sturdy little soldiers with steel-needle-like branches--not really a good environment for wearing shorts. I also put my hand back to sit down at one point, or on one point, and punched a little hole in the palm.















This little guy skedaddled when we came by.















This guy decided to hide in plain site until I got within inches of him.















The West Desert is tough on anything living.


















But there's also a lot of protected beauty.





















And a nice end-of-the-day hot spring, where I'd spend hours with a book if I could.