“The Stinking Desert.” Not the official name on the map, but growing up in the Grand Valley that’s what we always called it. There is all kinds of “historical” data explaining the name going back to the Spanish explorers Escalante and Dominguez, but how accurate any of those theories are is subject to more scrutiny than I am apt to pursue.  Suffice to say, it’s not the most picturesque of desert views.  US Highway 50 runs through this dead zone between Grand Junction and Delta, Colorado.  That’s where our day hike started.

John, Walter the Wonder Dog and I took a Sunday hike in Dominguez Canyon, which is a few miles south of the Stinking Desert.  Growing up, I heard about the canyon and the surrounding area, but never ventured there.  This day we did.

Turning off the highway, we headed through the nothingness and ended up at the trailhead at the Gunnison River.  A walk along the river then over a very cool foot bridge, we started into the canyon.

We met a few hikers along the way, several on their way out, encumbered with the large backpack that told of a several day trip into the canyon.  John immediately dropped the idea of a several day trip into the wilds of the canyon on his bucket list.

As we ambled up the trail, looking at the huge rock cliff formations, we spied a desert big horn sheep watching us from atop the canyon.  We were on high alert most of the day, on the look out for more, but she would be the only one we saw that day.

We wandered down to a creek that navigated the canyon.  The water was running high, since it is spring time and the snow melt is good this year.  We stopped at a waterfall, explored and, of course, grabbed some photographs.  Walter was non-stop, up and down the rocks on the shore, wading in the cool water and biting at the foam that formed at the base of the falls.  John and I watched and were entranced by the action of the water.  It was a very cool place to hang out for a while.

 

There is something primal and soothing about the element of water in nature.  A clear, quiet lake, a babbling brook, a waterfall in the wild. One becomes introspective for some reason.  As I sat and watched and listened to the roar of the rushing water, my mind drifted on it’s own meandering path.  No conscious thought of stress, of lists of things that need to get done.  No thought of financial planning, work that I should have been doing.  Just random thoughts of no particular meaning or importance.

We spent the day walking up the creek, sometimes on a trail along side it, sometimes bushwhacking thru thick brush, other times teetering along the edge of a rock wall.  It was not a taxing affair, we stopped a lot to sit and soak up the sights and sounds, and to watch the great hunter Walter trying to snag the elusive lizard on the rocks.

The lizards ended up very safe that day.

As we ventured along the trail, we happened upon another waterfall, this one big.  Really big. Surprised both John and I.  We spent quite a bit of time here, just because it was so big.

We ended up spending a couple of hours at the falls, exploring and photographing this desert prize.  John decided he needed to get closer.

He got wet.

Not just from the falls, but from the trip back across the creek.  It was quite entertaining to watch him “navigate” the creek getting back.  Let’s put it this way, his parents should get a refund from the money they poured into ballet lessons when he was a kid.

It is amazing what you can find in a place if you’re just willing to take the time and look around.  Adventure.  Explore.

Too many times in our busy world, we talk about getting out and exploring.  But it always seems to be “We’ll have to do that sometime,” or “maybe next week.”

We work our 9-5 to make ends meet, to keep up with the Jones’ but we never seem to stop long enough to experience what is around us.  We really should be working to live, not living to work.

My journey here has been a great eye opening experience.  I see the world much differently now than I did before I took the first step.  I have not yet reached my destination.  I hope I never do.  Because the journey is where it’s at.  Not the destination.

And with Walter the Wonder Dog at my side, I can’t wait to see where the next trail leads.