Recently in travel Category

I love bright colors that appear on the least likely creatures. Our trip to the Ozark Mountains of Arkansas introduced us to several such animals, if not colorful then otherwise very cool, and include with that some very beautiful nature spots!

Hiking at the forested Devil's Den State Park, for example, proved to be both gorgeous in the grand scheme of things and scientifically fascinating right down to the tiniest little creatures. This young Five-Lined Skink had no interest in stopping for a picture, but I did my best to get one anyway. The blue coloration of the tail is just remarkable!

As the skink ages, however, it will lose the bright blue color on its tail, and instead its head will possibly turn red. Now, explain to me the purpose of either occurrence, would you please?

Anyone who knows me knows that I'm a big fan of spiders, so of course I have some to share.

This unusual but common spider is an Arrow-Shaped Micrathena. Specifically, she's a female Arrow-Shaped Micrathena. The males don't have those pointy spines.

Upping the ante to ten spines, this Spined Micrathena built her web just a couple of trees over.

Instead of white, her underside is covered in thin stripes of yellow and black.

Spiders are cool and all, but so are their webs.

I don't know what kind of spider is responsible for this web, but ooh, how I love me a good creepy web. This one qualifies.

Down the hill, this little ant was working hard to take this giant insect wing somewhere.

I carefullly lifted the wing to reposition it on the rock so that I could get a picture, and the ant never let go -- as soon as its little legs touched the rock again, it went right back to work moving the wing, as if nothing had ever happened. 

The boys were delighted to find an armadillo searching for grubs -- it completely ignored them and went about its food-finding mission, even right at their feet. I wrote more about this cute armored mammal, also known as the Turtle Rabbit, over at Beautiful Wildlife Garden. I also wrote about black vultures, in case you are interested! I always am interested in vultures, 'cause vultures rock.

Not into oddly-named turtle rabbits or carcass-eating vultures? How about staring beavers?

I have about 20 images of this beaver, and they all turned out exactly the same, despite the fact that he walked about 10 feet during the process. By the way, we saw him at, amazingly enough, Beaver Lake. Think the lake belongs to him?

Oops I skipped ahead -- back to Devil's Den. This dainty little thing found an odd but comfortable resting spot on my youngest son's leg, which the picture will show is far more hairy than my son ever realized.

A White-Breasted Nuthatch tried to fool us into thinking it was a woodpecker. It and its friends might have been responsible for several nuts that nearly hit us on the head from the trees above.

Butterfly puddling can occur in the strangest places. This is the first time I've seen it on a trash can. I really don't care to know what people have spilled there.

With so many insects missing from Texas thanks to our record drought, it was with pure relief that I watched so many butterflies and bees busy at work on the flowers we saw in Arkansas. These were up near Eureka Springs.

Down at Petit Jean, an insect of a different sort came over to inspect the humans.

Either that or the stick insect found my ever-reliable and well-used Keens a potentially good camouflage spot. It couldn't have been expecting my pink feet to be so shockingly visible from inside the sandal.

Ever seen an egret tree? I'm so glad no one hit my car while I pulled over to snag this picture near a pond.

Arkansas, known as the Natural State, was just what we needed to have a break from the drought that's been drying up our home state of Texas. Arkansas has lovely green forests and beautiful lakes, rivers, creeks, and waterfalls...

Creek at Blanchard Springs

Blanchard Springs at the cavern exit

Mirror Lake

Heron at Beaver Lake

to unique geological features, like the Turtle Rocks and caves at Petit Jean State Park.

I love exploring nature with my boys. Together we find all sorts of interesting things. How fascinating, for example, an old leaf on the ground can be!

  Arkansas, you'll be seeing us again. Until next time!

During spring break, my parents came down for a visit, and we took a trip south to the Guadalupe River. It still being March, at temperatures in the 50s (degrees F) the water was far too cold for tubing, so this was more of a driving tour down River Road. The plant life was still in transition from winter, but spring buds on the trees marked the greenery soon to come.

We started at the dam at Canyon Lake near Sattler and worked our way down River Road toward Gruene (pronounced "green"), a historic district located within New Braunfels (How's that for multiple places mentioned in a single sentence?). I used to live in the Sattler area in my teenage years, as well as in New Braunfels -- it was nice to return for a visit.

Around the dam outlet, spring was yawning and stretching, with new flowers, buds, and early wildlife. I didn't realize these lovely white blooms were dewberry flowers until I got home and saw the same flowers in my side yard.

An oddity in nature, a tree burl prompted this week's post at Beautiful Wildlife Garden, where you can also see some tree romance observed at the same river spot.

Here's a taste of things to come -- I caught so many pictures of pollinators visiting this beautiful Mountain Laurel in bloom that I'm devoting my next post to it:

The Canyon Dam outlet marks the beginning of the Lower Guadalupe, and people from all over come to enjoy the scenery and water recreation. In a couple of months, this river will be full of folks moving along the current in various floating crafts. 

At low levels, the Guadalupe is popular for tubing, while higher levels bring out the canoers, kayakers, and rafting groups. But heavy rainfall can quickly turn the river to treacherous   whitewater conditions with potential for serious flooding. The picture above shows an area of rapids at Hueco Springs (sometimes spelled Huaco, pronounced "Waco" by the locals). The rapids look deceptively mild in the picture, and yet many deaths and near-drownings have occurred at this very spot, at both lower and higher water levels.

Back in my day (heh), there was a pool underneath the rapids that created a dangerous undertow that would trap people below the water if their tube flipped. I've personally been flipped and caught in that undertow and its washing-machine effect, and it's easy to panic while you try to find a way to push out, even if you are a strong swimmer. I felt very lucky that I didn't add to drowning statistics that day. Supposedly, they've made some changes to the spot to reduce drowning potential or at least guide tubes away from the pool. And in the rushing water of higher levels, inexperienced canoers have died when their canoe became wrapped around that large boulder seen in the picture. Sudden flash floods also have swept campers away. It's a beautiful spot but one to approach with utmost respect for the power of water. 

Another word of caution if you are planning on visiting the Guadalupe. Water moccasins, or cottonmouths, are common along the river, particularly in warmer temperatures. I've seen them in the trees above the river, quite an alarming site when you are floating below them in a tube, and one time I almost stepped on one along a river trail. Given that these venomous snakes are most excellent swimmers and rather aggressive in nature (literally), it's best to keep an eye out and avoiding aggravating one if you run across it. But don't let fear of snakes keep you from visiting the river -- in general, these snakes are as equally uninterested in being your friend as you are theirs, and most people never see one. I guess I'm just that lucky! Just be aware, that's all I'm saying.

We finished up our driving tour with dinner at the Grist Mill in Gruene, a historic favorite for both tourists and locals. A fine day, with a promise of future and longer visits and fun.  

For the final leg of our westward journey, we left behind Colorado and ventured to Arizona. Our goal was the Grand Canyon, something brand new for everyone in our family. From what we read, being committed to getting up early (very, very early) for sunrise and staying late for sunset is perhaps the best way to see the canyon. So that's what we did. And we took a nap in between. Bonus is that this way we avoided both heat and crowds, so win-win.

There's something very powerful about having never seen the Grand Canyon before and watching the sun come up to shine upon and give shape to the red cliffs and valleys and exposing the great depths below, like turning the lights on a stage.

It touches the soul of the visitor, and the visitor in turn feels in touch with the soul of the canyon and connected to the souls of all those who have been there in the thousands of years of human existence.

I understand the desire of those who ventured to outcroppings to watch the sunrise without fence or rail, to feel on top of the world and take in the full expanse of the canyon. (On the other hand, these people are perhaps a little crazy, too -- that's a long drop to the bottom.)

We walked along the rim for awhile, but the morning rains nudged us to move back toward the main visitor area lest the gentle rains turn to thunder and lightning. But the effects of the rain on the canyon were breathtaking. Totally worth letting the camera get a little wet.

We followed the eastern drive for awhile before returning to our hotel for a nap. After a late lunch, however, we headed right back to the canyon for a longer hike along the South Rim.

The colors of the canyon were overall muted, even when it wasn't raining or misty. Despite the canyon's clean air, particles from air pollution caused by local car and factory emissions and that of smog drifting east from Los Angeles and southern California create an unfortunate haze over the canyon. I imagine it gets particularly bad when wildfires are out of control in California.

Even with the muted colors, the Grand Canyon is without a doubt one of the most spectacular places I've ever seen, and it has earned its spot as one of the Seven Natural Wonders of the World. My tendency to feel wobbly near cliff edges was not really an issue this visit -- somehow the great expanse and soft colors made me feel like I was walking along a beautifully painted backdrop rather than a canyon 1-mile deep. In contrast, I was exceptionally wobbly at Black Canyon of the Gunnison, where views of narrow canyons, sheer walls, and vast depth really affect one's stability-- overlooking the edge is much more startling.

Wildlife abounds at the canyon -- coyotes, deer, rock squirrels, birds, and more. We saw a condor drifting lazily in the air between two edges, but as soon as I got my zoom lens on the camera, it ventured too far away for a picture. The mule deer and elk seem comfortable around humans -- probably not a good thing for either party. 

The ravens are huge and very, very black. They are considered some of the most intelligent birds, and you can tell that in the way they look at you and ponder how best to deal with you and/or your food. It amazes me that these heavy birds can even fly, and it amuses me further to see them hover against a breeze mere feet from the human watching them.

You can also see why they are so often portrayed in literature and movies as something dark, sinister, evil. They are eaters of carrion, too -- among other things.

The mountain chickadees are just as feisty as their more urban counterparts -- they even look the more rugged part.

My husband, by the way, was quite amused by this sign.

If I were to really suggest a time to visit the Grand Canyon, I'd have to say that you should stay for sunset. The red colors of the canyon are enhanced by those of the disappearing sun on the horizon, and you can see the canyon like no other time of day allows. We walked the elevated distance out to Hopi Point, and we oohed and aahed with the crowd. It was worth it.

Oh, and bats took care of any bugs flying around us on the long walk back (there are buses available, but we had our dog with us). I can't say I've ever had that many bats so close to my mass of hair before, but they took care not to get caught in it. I'm glad the coyotes we saw in the dark didn't attack our dog, either. The bats didn't faze us, but we certainly picked up the pace when we saw the coyotes, since they actually were a potential danger.

The next morning we packed up and officially headed east -- time to head toward home, Texas. We stopped at the Petrified Forest National Park, the upper portion of which is part of the multicolored badlands known as the Painted Desert. I wasn't sure how I'd feel about visiting -- the pictures I'd seen online looked like a vast, gray empty dead zone. But the truth is, I loved it. I'd never seen anything like it.

Does it seem odd to find this beautiful? These rocks represent the petrified remains of a forest from 225 million years ago, in the Late Triassic period -- a time when giant crocodile-like phytosaurs ruled the land. Just imagine the difference; imagine the world long, long ago. Wow.  

The silica-filled petrified logs are like rock rainbows, colored by iron and manganese.

The national park is rich in human history, as well. We saw hundreds of petroglyphs in close proximity, as well as evidence of ancient pueblo villages and homes. Visiting the national park was a step back in time, and I felt the spirits of the ancient peoples around me as they hunted, fought, raised families, and wrote their stories on the rocks around.

I'm certain that at particular times of the day or in different seasons, the spectacular beauty of the Painted Desert really shines through, but even on the overcast rainy day we had, the uniqueness of the geology around us was apparent.

The banded hills and badlands are known as Chinle Formations, formed by the processes of massive erosion and deposits in harsh seasons. The effect is powerful, and the colorful scene that arises is suitably named the Painted Desert.

The rain fell as we were leaving. We were amused at how much of our time in the desert had rain either falling on us or falling near us in the distance. But no complaints from us -- since we'd expected crazy hot temperatures in the 3-digit numbers, we happily enjoyed temperatures in the 80s instead.

We had a pleasant dinner with friends in Albuquerque then continued on our journey the next morning, admiring the rugged New Mexico shrubland as we headed southeast to Carlsbad. There we visited the giant and very impressive caverns. This is yet another place where you need to see it to believe it -- photographs can't capture its magnificence and magnitude, especially because lighting is such an issue for the average photographer.

The final part of journey brought us to Davis Mountains State Park in southwest Texas, not too far away from Big Bend. Ahhh, home in Texas at last. The Texas shrublands made me smile, and they were especially green due to all the recent rains. We took a short hike to observe the wildlife and surroundings, and we made a quick trip over to the famous McDonald Observatory before beginning the last long stretch home to Austin.

Nothing like multiple carcass-hungry vultures to welcome you back to Texas.

And a giant Texas- sized millipede...

It made me happy to see so many of my favorite Texas plants in their native environment -- several cactus species, yuccas, agaves, grasses, Esperanza, Chocolate Daisy, and more. And the Davis Mountains is one of the best birding spots in the nation -- some 15 species of hummingbirds visit or reside there, along with hawks, Montezuma Quail, grosbeaks, towhees,and my ol' pals the white-winged doves (were they waiting at the Texas border to tell me that they missed eating all my birdseed?). Many of the birds that reside in the Davis Mountains are found nowhere else, and the range of elevation attracts many migratory species as well.

Some birds make their nests in the cholla cactuses, which are abundant and beautiful (and a little hazardous on a hike).

A long trip, but one made of many memories and new experiences for our family. It's good to be back home, too, though.  :)

Continuing on our Colorado journey, we headed along the Million Dollar Highway, a scenic 70-mile drive through Colorado's rugged San Juan Mountains. The highway connects Durango to Silverton and on to Ouray. It is known for its spectacular views, but it is also a treacherous route -- tight switchbacks, stomach-turning vertical drop-offs, mountain passes rising to more than 11,000 feet with similar descents -- with potential for sudden rockslides and elk leaping across the road. It lacks guard rails most of the way. I wouldn't want to drive a fuel tank along this route, that's for sure. But I can understand why gas costs increase as you travel north. It's an absolutely breath-taking route, but cautious driving is required. And don't do what I saw one old pick-up driver doing at an overlook -- he was drinking beer.

The drive takes you along the historic route that once connected mining towns of old. Around Silverton and along Red Mountain Pass, one can see the remains of mines, old buildings, railroad tracks, and more.

The Red Mountains are suitably named. 

And on distant mountains, a bit of snow remains in the high altitude.

There is a ghost town of sorts in the Red Mountain area, with an informative overlook to tell the tale.

We passed through some incredible mountain passageways, glimpsing waterfalls and river scenes along the way. The town of Ouray seems to be a fun place to visit -- it was quite crowded -- but we opted to continue on.

At Montrose, we headed east to the Black Canyon of the Gunnison. Wow. With narrow canyons and sheer walls dropping a huge distance to the river below, the views are dramatic and a little unsettling. We'd never seen any place like it. If you are in Colorado, it is so worth the drive. Pictures cannot do it justice. I know -- I checked out all the postcards and books on the Black Canyon and not a one could capture the wonder and startling depth of the place. You must visit it.  

  It might not look like it in these pictures, but it's a realllllly long way down to the river. We were standing 2,000 feet up.

The descent to the river below is quite steep -- 16% -- with extremely narrow turns.

And along the rim, one walks along shrubs and shrubs of Mountain-Mahogany (Cercocarpus montanus), with all its feathery plumes. I call this photo "The Running Man" -- though really, it looks like two people.

We headed past Blue Mesa Lake to Lake City. The small town's most famous tale is that of Alferd (Alfred) Packer, the man accused of cannibalizing his companions during a long harsh winter in the 1800s. We enjoyed a walk through the small historic town -- and ice cream floats from the town's famous soda shop. The bees buzzed happily from flower to flower along the sidewalks.

From Lake City we headed south along 149 to Slumgullion Pass. The route takes you on a 9% grade to the peak with some very tight turns. Pretty, but scary. The last time I was on this pass, it was raining. That's scarier. 

We camped this time at Bristol Head, a small campground just down a dirt road from Clear Creek Falls. The falls are some of the most photographed falls in Colorado -- and rock climbers enjoy the challenge of the short cliff faces.

The area is popular for flyfishing, and the old mining town of Creede is nearby and a nice place to visit. My sons like to visit the mining museum -- not to see anything related to mining, mind you. It is one of the few places you can buy food to feed the chipmunks and ground squirrels.

The hummingbirds are quite numerous at Bristol Head. My parents put out feeders on their camper, and I enjoyed the birds' antics for hours and hours. Sometimes, particularly at dusk, more than a dozen hummers would fight for the feeders at one time.

For those of us in Texas and farther east, this cutie bears a resemblance to our Ruby-Throated hummer, but it is actually a Broad-Tailed Hummingbird, lacking the black band along the top of the ruby color.

Many of the hummingbirds squabbled with one another, not content taking turns... pretty much ever.

The Rufous Hummingbirds were quite brassy, both in appearance and personality.

They weren't shy about poking other birds in the head to get them to move.

I'm not sure what kind of bird this is. This year I bought a book on Colorado wildflowers -- next time I really need to get one on Colorado birds (and another on butterflies). EDIT: Thanks, Mary, for letting me know that this bird is probably a Camp Robber. It's also known as a Gray Jay, and Colorado is on the southern end of its range).

After a couple of nights, we took down the tent again and packed the car. We said goodbye to my folks and then headed south past Creede and along Wolf Creek Pass. We made a short stop at Treasure Falls, taking a quick hike to a lovely view.

There we also saw a very lovely black and white butterfly, a Weidemeyer's Admiral. It was doing the puddling thing outside the men's restroom. Gross (and kind of an embarrassing spot to take a picture). But a pretty butterfly.

From the falls, we drove the short distance to Durango and then to Mesa Verde, where the Anasazi built their amazing cliff dwellings many hundreds of years ago. Below is Spruce Tree House.

The boys and I had visited Mesa Verde a couple of years ago. This year we added to our visit a drive along the rim, and we saw views of even more cliff dwellings. You can see Cliff Palace, the largest site, in the background below.

"Square Tower House"

An eagle nest above Square Tower House -- a perfect spot for it, I'd say.

"Oak Tree House"

"Sunset House"

"Mummy House"

Mesa Verde is just 5-6 hours from Grand Canyon. That's practically nothing in Texas time -- so we left the cliff dwellings and headed farther west into Arizona. Part III of our trip next!

We like to take road trips. We leave behind TVs, computers, video games, and the like, taking only with us as entertainment audiobooks (this trip we listened to the Fablehaven series), journals, puzzle books, and select books to read. And, of course, I bring along my camera.

Our summer vacation for 2010 consisted of a trip to southwest Colorado, camping in the Durango/San Juan Mountains area, circling up to Black Canyon of the Gunnison and Lake City, traveling farther west to the Grand Canyon in Arizona, and eventually heading home, with lots of mini-detours along the way. One of our dogs joined us for the trip (the other two had their own vacation at a doggy play camp), making for an interesting twist to the planning of vacation activities.

Well, we had a fine trip. We ventured west from Austin through San Angelo (dog-friendly fort there) and headed to Roswell, New Mexico, home of the mysterious 1947 crash that became known as the UFO Incident. Although we didn't bother with the museum in Roswell, we had great fun seeking the various aliens around town.

Sure, most of them (ok, all) are placed there by businesses hoping to get a boost from tourists, but even the city got involved with their unique streetlamps. Totally kitschy and cheesy.

In Albuquerque we stopped at the Petroglyph National Monument, venturing briefly up the short Piedras Marcadas trail. We couldn't spend much time there -- the sand was too hot for Grover's paws, so only two of us zipped up the trail to find a couple of petroglyphs, snap pictures, and leave. Alas. We'll go back another time.

But we were greeted by the wildlife just the same.

This black-tailed rabbit kept playing peek-a-boo with us. Long ears and long legs and long feet -- it has a black stripe down the back of its tail for easy ID, but of course you can't see it in the side view.

In Colorado we camped with my parents near Durango for the first few days. The weather was perfect, and the ever-gorgeous scenery of Colorado made us both wistful and content. The boys enjoyed fishing with their grandpa at a small lake in the San Juan Mountains. In fact, we spent quite a bit of time at Haviland Lake, hiking and swimming there as well.

I enjoyed taking a few pictures, but I never managed to capture a picture of the raptors swooping down to catch fish in the water. They did so at dusk, not being considerate enough to fly when I returned in better light. Considering the fishing skill involved, I wondered whether they were osprey, but it's possible they were eagles. We also spotted a beaver swimming lazily in the water...at...dusk...too. My youngest caught his first fish completely in the dark with me already heading back up to the car. What is up with that?!! Well, at least the setting entertained me in the light.

Hmmm, might this be wild chamomile? Whatever it is, it was present in most places we visited in Colorado. (EDIT: Katina suggests it might be Shasta Daisy, a non-native annual that's been spreading across the state. Thanks, Katina. I wish it were easier to tell them apart from photos I've seen online.)

Colorado has the biggest dandelion-like seedheads I've ever seen. Inches across, they are. (EDIT: Mary tells me this plant is Salsify, of the genus Tragopogon. Once again I've photographed a picture of a non-native plant. But those seedheads get to be 4-inches across! It's in the same family as dandelions, but a completely different genus. So distant cousins from across the world...)

  The lovely white flower below, if I've labelled it correctly, is not one to consider loving too closely. Its name is Death Camas. Guess why. Yep, all parts highly poisonous. One of those "I wish I'd known it at the time" moments for me, yes, but this is why we don't eat plants we don't know! According to what I read, however, occasionally a pioneer mistook the bulbs as those of wild onions, to tragic effect.

Canada geese, a common sight at lakes in Colorado...

White geranium. There's a pink variety, too.

There are numerous purple thistles around the area. The one below is, I believe, a musk thistle. Pretty, yes, but musk thistles are on the Invasives list for Colorado-- native to Europe, they spread quickly and are not palatable to livestock. At first I admired them, until I realized that I shouldn't. And then I realized they were everywhere. 

The ever adorable ground squirrel -- a common sight all over Colorado. In many places, this little cutie (and its cousins) is considered a pest, too -- and a harborer of fleas and disease. But that doesn't change the fact that it's cute! We saw many chipmunks, too.

Okay, this fooled me. We stayed clear of these leaves of three and red stems, thinking it was poison ivy, but upon closer look (via photos) those notches make me think it might be box elder. In any case, better to be safe than sorry! 

This Horsetail variety did make me feel at home (Horsetail being one of my favorite Texas water plants) -- we found it along a stream in the San Juan Mountains, standing out among the ferns.

Aspen daisies, perhaps? Also known as Showy Daisies.

The Colorado Wild Rose -- reminds me a little of our Rose Pavonia back in Texas...

The Durango area has much to offer visitors. Excellent camping and hiking, a historic district in town, tubing and whitewater rafting, fishing areas, and area lakes, an old train that takes people up to the old mining town of Silverton (if you are willing to pay the outrageous costs --we drove there one afternoon instead), and it's just a short drive away from some of the most amazing cliff dwellings in America.

Because we had our dog with us, we couldn't go whitewater rafting, but the boys and I did drive out to Vallecito Lake to enjoy some canoeing. A very pretty lake, blue from afar, but actually somewhat red in color due to the red soil along the banks around it.

After a week in the Durango area, we broke camp and then headed to the airport to pick up my husband, who flew in to join us for the second half of our Wild West adventure. Stay tuned for Part II...

I've been in Mexico enjoying several days of celebration, culminating in my sister's beautiful wedding outside of San Miguel. And today I begin the process of working my way through all the pictures I took, so hopefully I'll have a few good ones to share. Aye, las flores y otras plantas de México son muy magníficas.

Thank you for all the comments you've sent in my absence. I have a lot of catching up to do!

A couple of years ago my boys and I went to Colorado with their grandparents, and we snuck out for a side-trip to beautiful Mesa Verde, a National Park in far southwestern Colorado, near the Four Corners. Mesa Verde is one of the most unique archeological sites in the world, for it was once the home of the Ancestral Puebloans who built hundreds of spectacular cliff dwellings along the mesa tops and within sheltered alcoves of the canyons. The Ancestral Puebloans lived there from A.D. 600 to A.D. 1300 and then mysteriously abandoned their homes at Mesa Verde.

Cliff Palace is the largest cliff dwelling at Mesa Verde and in North America, and it is aptly named. Not only is it huge, with about 150 rooms, it was quite a trek down the cliff to reach it. There were many kivas, or ceremonial rooms, along with storage rooms.

The temperature was very comfortable, and it's easy to understand why the Ancient Puebloans took shelter in the cliffs, out of the hot summer sun and cold winters.The doorways of the buildings were quite small. At 5'5", I would have been as tall as the tallest man. 

The Ancestral Puebloans were skilled masons, creating buildings of stone and wood that were sometimes two- or three-stories high. The wood is one of the ways the scientists dated the dwellings to about A.D. 1200.

Spruce Tree House was named for a spruce tree climbed on by explorers when they found the ancient site. The ladders led into reconstructed kivas.

Park visitors are allowed to go in the reconstructed kivas at Spruce Tree House, but I found out later that kivas are very sacred to the Pueblo Indians. I rather wish the park had closed off all the kivas out of respect to the Pueblo people. Our entering it was only because we didn't know better and it's part of the park tour. I'm showing this image simply because it's one of my favorites of my son, poking his head out from darkness into the brightness above.  

And then there is the Balcony House. This remarkable dwelling is only reached by climbing down stairs along a cliffside and then up a 32-foot ladder to get to the actual dwelling. Actually, it was one of three ladders we had to climb at Balcony House. If you think it sounds easy, then take a look at the picture below. 

For those with a tendency toward acrophobia, climbing a tall ladder with what seems like only a small ledge keeping you from falling into the deep, deep canyon below definitely requires some incredible will and an ability to master one's fears. I should add that we had waited out a thunderstorm with strong winds on the cliff above before the tour finally began, so I was already fairly alarmed that we were about to attempt such a climb with winds such as those blowing (it turns out the Balcony House was actually sheltered from the cliff winds). But because I was wanting my sons to enjoy something unique and spectacular without developing any of my awful fears, I kept my desire to panic very quiet and seriously practiced some breathing techniques to keep my calmness in check. But the ladder you see here will forever be known to me as the White-Knuckle Ladder. I actually don't have a fear of heights per se -- I love being up high -- it's just being at the edge of a cliff that gets me wobbly. And Mesa Verde is ALL cliffs, haha. 

The trip will always be a memorable one for me -- from the drive in to the drive out. For those with a strong fear of heights, it might not be the best park for you to visit. Even the 23-mile drive in was along the mountainside, with narrow turns and tight switchbacks, and while the views were incredible, I couldn't take my eyes off the road to even glance at them. Add to it that I made the mistake of not getting gas in nearby Durango, and I was rather inwardly freaked out that we were going to run out of gas or fall off a cliff to the canyon far below. We did neither. Phew. But despite my racing heart, I'd go back there in a flash to visit again.

This glimpse back at my Mesa Verde trip was inspired by Pam at Digging who is hosting a bloggers' tribute to national parks. Thanks for sending me on this trip down memory lane, Pam!