Blaze of Mountain Yellow!

This picture and the one below were taken at the top of Oak Creek Canyon north of Sedona Arizona in early October.  The forest fields were ablaze with color; something we did not expect but were a result of plentiful rain during the monsoon season of July and August and an ample amount of life-giving moisture in September.

Yellow flowers seem to dominate the Arizona highlands and the southern Colorado Plateau.

Even the cactus get in on the act with the fruit they bear.

While in Arizona we plan to continue our exploration of its beauty.  Many folk only think of the hot desert but they don't realize that the terrain is varied and interesting and that not all of the state is oven hot.  Oak Creek Canyon is especially beautiful as it winds itself up from Sedona toward Flagstaff.

Normally rushing in spring and summer, the placid Oak Creek gently plies its way down the deep valley.

The venerated one, my dad, enjoying the view and a beautiful day.  Here, overlooking the valley.

Native American vendors set up shop at this mountain top overlook.

Shifting gears a bit, I want to share with you some pictures from my recent bike ride in the town of Prescott.  Little-by-little I am conquering more of the town and its little by-ways.  There are a number of washes and seasonal streams that run through the town.  One of the main ones run just on the west side of downtown and a partially improved bike trail runs a good portion of its length.  To my surprise a local artist carved a dragon out of a tall dead stump.  What will be around the next corner?

Mural art is part of the urban trail, adding to the overall experience whether one bikes or walks.

The urban trail led me to an historic landmark structure, the railroad bridge.  Prescott used to be a major center of rail activity for central Arizona.  You remember the "bridge to nowhere?"  This bridge used to go somewhere, but now is cut off by progress.  Where the six rail track sets converged just north of the old downtown, now consists a small shopping center and a busy street running east through town.

Ending this entry, I wanted to bring your attention to the weather shown in the pictures of recent entries.   Prescott enjoys, much like Denver, 300 sunny days a year.  We are enjoying the temperate nature of this fall season.  I hope you are enjoying yours too!   Next, Toozigoot National Monument...

Journey to Ashfork and the Devil's Sinkhole

The town of Ashfork, Arizona, is about a 70 minute trip north of Prescott at the junction of Highway 89 and Interstate 40 and the old Route 66.   Ashfork is known for its early and critical role as a transportation hub helping settle Arizona to the south.

With the building of the Interstate and the rail line being moved 11 miles north of town, Ashfork almost died off, and even now, the town is filled more with memories than with businesses and occupied homes.  But, the town, as many small towns in America, the townspeople love their home and it shows its pride in the local historical museum, free to the public!

One of its many displays showcased a section of town in scale model in its heyday!

I had dad stand next to this 1925 Ford, made when he was two years old, but he is not an antique!

One of the signs we saw in the museum directed to a place known as the Devil's sinkhole located about seven miles west and north of town.  Upon further inquiry, we gained a hand-drawn map and verbal directions, and after a hearty lunch as the local cafe, we headed out to find the landmark which boasts a 292 foot depth!  We never found the hole, but we sure had a wonderful country drive and met some cows.

One of the many reasons we did not find the sink hole was that there were no road signs to guide us other than posts listing the directions to the rural ranches in the area.  We knew we had gone much too far when the last sign we ran across has just two names, one to the right and one to the left!  It was time to turn around.  We were seven miles off the road, more than any of us would or could walk!

You didn't believe me about the cows?  No bull?

Leaving Ashfork, looking east, we see mountains that lay directly north of Flagstaff, one of our next destinations.

My next entry will show off a local event Kristin, dad, the two grandkids and I experienced at a 300 acre farm in Dewey, 15 miles east of Prescott.