What Was I Thinking? You Can't Beat a Dead Horse; That's Not a Little Ravine!

I have to make a mea culpa here. I actually asked Suzanne to go stand on that ledge that overhangs a deep gorge with the Colorado River about 2,000 feet below. I did not ask her to go quite so far out on the ledge in question. And yes, she does have a big smile on her face. She once refused an offer to jump out of a perfectly good airplane with the Army's elite parachute team, the Golden Knights, so it's not like she loves heights. In any case, "she done good".

So, where were we? Close by Arches National Park is Utah's little-visited Dead Horse Point State Park. It is one of the most impressive places we have been, rivaling the Grand Canyon. National Geographic's Guide to State Parks of the United States, which our good friend Elizabeth Magee had sent us, states, "... the vast, labyrithine wilderness of southeast Utah's canyonlands is so impressive, so provocative, and so enticing that it's no wonder that panoramas from 5,900-foot-high Dead Horse Point are often praised as the most spectacular of any Beehive State park... trails along the mesa flirt with the edge of the 2,000-foot-deep gorge, leading to a half dozen overlooks of some of the Southwest's least-accessible public land."

Those words enticed us to visit Dead Horse Point, and led Suzanne to get closer to the edge of the precipice than I expected. I assure you that she is safe on The Bus right now, and laughing about the experience. (I will admit to you, however, that when she walked around the dropoff to where I was standing, she blurted out, "Holy S--t!  That's where I was?  What was I doing out there?")

The park is named Dead Horse because of the legend that wranglers once rounded up wild mustangs here, and fenced them in on the narrow end of the mesa, where the neck is only 90 feet wide. Sadly, some died of thirst before the cowboys could bring them to market. Here is Suzanne in a less stressful moment relaxing against the makeshift fence that held the horses captive.

 

 There are many layers of sandstone here dating back hundreds of millions of years. This rock was probably laid down near a river that periodically flooded, dumping mud or silt in distinct thin layers.

We saw some wildlife here; this mule deer doe was kind enough to pose just off the trail, but two desert bighorn sheep ewes that I spooked (or did they spook me?) bounded out of sight before I could get my camera up.

 It is truly amazing how the Colorado River has cut away some serious rock here. This pinnacle stands lonely sentry duty with the river far below.  Modern damming of the Colorado has slowed both its current and its ability to cut through rock, so if you came back in a hundred million years, you would likely not see the same effects of erosion as we see here.

  

  

Lastly, many of you know that Suzanne treats me very well; some have said that she even puts me on a pedestal. Here's proof of that remark... and no, I'm not near the edge of a precipice... what do you think, I'm crazy?