The Owyhee Green Desert

Monday May 2 2022

I've never in my 15 years out here seen the Owyhee desert so outrageously verdant. We've had the craziest spring, with temperatures swinging wildly between 79* one day and 26* the next night. Waves of wet weather have come through, just enough at just the right time to send the flora into a frenzy of growth.

The desert grasses and shrubs and wildflowers are soaking up the moisture as color - all shades of green, carpets of knee-high yellow mustard, fields of purple flowers (blue mustard?), phlox, arrow leaf balsam root, Indian paintbrush, and myriad other flowers I have my own names for because I don't know the proper names for them. 

It's awful hard to get a good training ride on Hillbillie Willie, because all he wants to do is eat this spring's rare Nature's bounty while it exists - and who can blame him! If we do a 2-hour ride, that's because 1 hour is spent training, and 1 hour is spent eating.

As I told a friend, Let us bow our heads and remember this lush spring in a few months, when the flora is withered and gray, and the skies are brown with wildfire smoke that burns our lungs and stings our eyes. Amen.

A Poke in the Eye With a Sharp Stick

Wednesday January 27 2016

It was probably more like a piece of hay that poked him in the eye, but it was bad enough at noon to leave Jose with a weeping, swollen eye (surely aggravated by him rubbing it). In the desert, one might immediately suspect a cactus thorn as the assailant, but the poke probably happened a couple of days ago and was likely from stemmy hay.

Veterinarian Dr Stacey Sickler, a friend from seems like eons ago, was able to come out in the afternoon; and by staining his eye, we could all clearly see a couple of scratches on the bottom corner of his eyeball. She left us with antibiotic ointment to put in his eye four times a day for the next week or two, and this spiffy pirate mask (racehorse blinkers, with strong velcro holding an eye shield in place) for him to wear.

Though he doesn't enjoy having a sore eye, Jose thinks he makes quite the dashing, swashbuckling pirate on this ocean of desert sand.

My New Friend: The Roadrunner

January 19 2016

Walking into Jose and Smokey's pen one cool morning to clean horse poop, I was startled to see a Roadrunner hanging out on the tack room porch. I froze, wanting him to stay a while. Jose walked right by him; Smokey walked right by him. I approached Jose and scratched his neck, 20 feet from Roadrunner. Roadrunner just sat there, blinking in the sunlight.

I slipped on the other side of Jose, still scratching him, now 15 feet from Roadrunner. He didn't care.

Jose walked off, and I casually took a few steps toward Roadrunner. He didn't flinch. I walked within 8 feet of him, and sat down. Roadrunner blinked in the sunshine. I struck up a conversation with him. I think he was listening.

After a while, he hopped off the porch and walked 2 feet closer to me. He pecked a bit in the dirt, then turned his back to the sun and fluffed up his feathers, so the sun would strike his dark skin which quickly absorbs heat. I like to think he was showing off a bit for me, too.

I kept talking to him, he continued to be unconcerned, and as soon as he warmed up enough, he turned back around, and stepped toward me again, digging in the dirt. And he walked toward me again, totally unconcerned, even if I moved my hands or shifted my seat. I was conversing with and sitting 4 feet from my new Roadrunner friend.

Roadrunners are fairly common in the southwest deserts. They have a zygodactyl foot - 2 toes are directed forward, 2 are directed backward. The X-shaped footprints they leave behind are said to be used as sacred symbols used in some southwest Native American tribes to ward off evil spirits, because the X-tracks disguise which direction the bird is traveling (it throws the evil spirits off track).

My close encounter with my new Roadrunner friend happened two mornings in a row. The second day I had my little camera with me.

A Tease

Tuesday September 3 2013

It was so deliciously auspicious: 60% chance of heavy rain, and a Flash Flood Warning.

And it started out so promising. The skies dimmed; a light rain began falling in the morning. It lasted an hour… the mountains disappeared, the horses got wet…


Finneas even rolled and covered himself in mud, something he rarely does (he rather likes to stay clean and shiny, because he's a grandson of the Black Stallion).




It lasted another hour…

and fizzled. Sun came out and dried the ground in shorter time than it took to get wet.

Showers and thunderstorms are still likely through tomorrow night, but the sun is gaily shining and I don't hold out much hope. I'll believe it when I can dance in it.

This Ain't No Highway

Tuesday October 18 2011

It used to be, a nice smooth packed sand highway-wash (the Birch Creek drainage) that the horses could cruise several miles up, past the Wind Caves, and on up into the Birch Creek Canyon narrows.
 

There was actually running water in this drainage this spring, something nobody around here has ever seen. Mother Nature was very busy doing a lot of rearranging and restructuring. Crevasses here. Piles of deep sand there. Miniature canyons here. A solid foundation of rock there. Last week we got dumped on with heavy rain which probably helped sculpt more desert drainage artwork. The smooth Birch Creek wash highway is gone. It will be many, many years, decades... centuries?... before it's back to the way it used to be, if it ever is.


Just think of the power of water that removed up to 3 feet deep of sand, sometimes 10 feet wide, in places. A lot of it washed down here, right to the area we used to have our vet check and the start of the LD ride for one of the days of the Hallowed Weenies 2-day endurance ride over Halloween. We had trouble with rigs getting stuck in here when it was a firm highway of sand. Nobody's going to be parking on here this year.


I hiked and flagged the Birch Creek wash/canyon/trail on foot today. It was a perfectly beautiful cool fall day for a 13 mile hike in the Owyhee desert! It will be a little more technical this year. There's some deep sand, rocks, miniature canyons, and some whoop de do's (apparently motorcycles and ATVs love this kind of challenge), but there's plenty of good footing too.

There's also plenty of water once you get close to the canyon narrows. The trail goes right in the creek at times. Plenty of water means plenty of plant growth. It's a jungle some places in there, but there's always a trail, and only one way to go - up the canyon.

The trail passes the Wind Caves,


squeezes into and through the red Birch Creek Canyon for a few miles.


There are oases of trees hiding raptors birds, and birds that hide from them. There might even be a rattlesnake, like this one who scared the bejeesus out of me when I scared the bejeesus out of him. We agreed to go different ways. (You sure pay a lot more attention after you see your first rattlesnake of the day!)


I'm not finished hiking yet - back tomorrow to mark a couple more miles of the trail coming down from the Wind Caves... and I probably can't resist a little exploring off-trail in this very cool place, hidden from most of the world.

Just Me And...

Friday September 16 2011

Nothing. For miles around.

No cows, no cats.

No humans, no horses.

No deer, no donkey.

No noise, no life - nothing for miles around.

Solitariness.

But look again:


...at the Owyhee skies and clouds - a presence sculpting a shifting personality onto the mountains.


... a watching vulture, part of a rock until I get too close; then a brief silhouette.


... a wild mustang stallion pile, marking his territory.


...obsidian flakes, an old rock corral - traces of the past.


Listen harder:


...quail, canyon wren, the sigh of the breeze, wafting down over the Owyhees, whooshing down the Owyhee front, passing over me on its way to the Snake River.

For miles around - just me and Owyhee.

Death Valley National Park I

Saturday March 5 2011

Passing through Death Valley I found an excuse to camp overnight, and to hike in the evening. Winter really is the only time to visit, when you can appreciate it without cooking, or dying, in the 100-plus, often 120* heat.

It's stunning country. More to come.

(Slide show here:)

Wings

Saturday January 29 2011

Through the desert, we fly.

A sliver of fear, breathlessness on an unfamiliar horse

We are going fast.


Twisting trails at a transcendent trot

Hard hills at a careening canter.


Ducking beneath the saguaro

Twisting away from the palo verde

Desert claws reach out and tear, trading blood for skin.

Nimble horse feet dance past jumping cholla.



We fly...

the mass of muscle effortless beneath me, perfectly balanced.

Fear fades to exhilaration, breathing synchs in rhythm with horse and desert.


Winding washes at a hurtling gallop, the sand no more than a magic carpet

Munger Hill looms above - charged up at a run!

The earth churns and spatters beneath hooves. We are long gone before it settles.


We are flying

Flying

(Thank you, Redford! : )

A Soup Kinda Day

Wednesday December 29 2010

Red skies at morning...

The predicted rain began around noon. Hesitantly at first, then casually, then boldly. A desert winter rain: steady, persistent, protracted (some might say: interminable). A gray, heavy, wet, soupy day. A good one to sit around the fire curled up around a hot cup of coffee and a hot bowl of soup.


Into the evening, little puddles became little lakes; little trickles became little streams down the washes and roads. Soggy horses, and a few stunned people who expected the sunny warm skies ("It's Phoenix for crying out loud!") and didn't bring rain gear or winter tights. Some people from New York and the Northwest and Utah thought they'd escape the snow and rain for the warm and dry Southwest.


But plenty of smiles and large doses of humor lit the faces of the 40-some intrepid endurance riders vetting their horses in, that didn't cancel (down from 90-some pre-entries), and who planned to mount their horses at 7:30 tomorrow morning for Day 1 of the Resolution Endurance Ride.


Ride manager Rusty roamed base camp with his hands wrapped around a cup of hot chocolate and a laugh on his lips. Trails are marked, everything is ready, and there's nothing to be done about the weather but saddle up and ride!

Snow Bird

Tuesday December 28 2010

This is something totally alien - me fleeing the winter snow for southern climes!

I'm not running away though; I'm on assignment following endurance rides around the southwest for a couple of months. And while I'm sorely missing the frigid Pacific Northwest, and every snowflake that falls there, and every bone-chilling shiver down my spine, I'm soaking up the splendor of the Southwest (while sweating).

There is, however, some chilly, wet, blustery weather heading our way Wednesday and Wednesday night, but that will just set up the trails and the days perfectly for the 3-day Resolution Endurance Ride which begins on Thursday near Scottsdale Arizona.

Expect cool and spectacular sunny days (on Thursday after the rain stops) in this Sonoran desert, the hottest desert in North America (in the summer!), the only one where you'll see - and ride through - forests of Saguaro Cactus, the state flower of Arizona.

Here is a taste of the scenery you'll glimpse on the trails.

(slideshow here)

Desert Storm

Saturday August 29 2009

Evening: a storm comes to the desert. Heavy blue clouds over the northwest flats. Thunder rumbles. A gray veil descends over the Owyhee mountains - rain is falling, working its way down Pickett Creek. Sun rays pierce the clouds, tinting them gold to the west and an eye-aching steel blue to the north.

The lightning flashes, so bright it eclipses the golden light. The thunder booms. I'm out walking in it. It's too beautiful not to. I'm not afraid this time... but then I'm not riding a horse in it, and I am sticking to the drainage, not up on the flats.

The rain arrives from up the canyon. Gentle at first, then big desert drops. It kicks up millions of miniature dust storms. It wets, then quickly soaks my hair, my shoulders, runs down my back, pours down my face. The rain releases the sharp incense of the desert - the sage, the rabbit brush, greasewood, the sand.

Lightning whirls in the sky, a bolt making a circle above the northwest bluffs. Two circles. Thunder chases the bolts around. I stare transfixed, pelted by rain, dripping now, like the desert. I'm part of the desert, looking skyward, soaking up the rain.

The heavy rain keeps on moving down Bates Creek, cleansing everything in its wake, taking the lightning storm with it. It finishes up with little sprinkles, just like it started.


The storm leaves in its wake the fiery sunset, storm clouds and rainbow: the visual orchestral finale of another Owyhee summer storm.