Morning Has Broken

On the third day, we awoke to a glorious sunrise over the LaSals and a magnificent view. (Click to enlarge).  With that kind of start to the morning, who wouldn't be ready to get out and ride?

We had our own 35 gallon water tank for the horses in the trailer, but it's always good to know where the nearest water source is in dry country.  So, our first task of the day was to check out a couple of springs.  Neither was exactly as shown on the map, but the friendly ranger at Hans Flat had told us where they really were.  He said, as we had already discovered, that almost none of the water sources listed on the maps in the Canyonlands area are actually where they are purported to be on the USGS or National Geographic maps.

Above is Lost Springs.  Since it's impossible to see where the water is until you're on top of it, one would almost have to be Lost to find this spring.

This old trough is the only sign of humans passing this way.

Next, we visited Windy Point Spring.  This one was bigger, with sandstone slopes around most of it. 

The horses and Daisy enjoyed another refreshing respite. 

Then we were off, headed north along the old Spur road, leaving our camping spot and the trailer (center right) far behind.

Four Wheeling with a Horse Trailer

The next day, we stopped at Hans Flat Ranger Station.

Next door to the station is a nice lunch spot with pretty views, but Steve was only interested in pumping the ranger for information on how to reach the Spur overlooks and any springs along the way. The only route is an old two-track that is no longer actively maintained and has suffered a few washouts over the years.  However, the ranger said an old rancher used to drive to the Spur every year with a horse trailer, so the ranger thought we could get through. That was good enough for Steve.  Down the "road" we went. 

A few miles down the 2-track, the Canyonlands burro herd formed a welcoming comittee.  They looked us over carefully and seemed to deem us worthy of passing through. There were paint burros and dun burros with primitive zebra markings. 

The paint coloration, according to the ranger, is apparently due to inbreeding, which occurs because this herd is in such an isolated area.  I can't find any history on how long the animals have lived in the area, but they had arrived and were thriving enough to compete with cows and sheep for limited water in the 1920's.  Apparently they do not overpopulate now because they are unable to breed very successfully, again probably due to inbreeding.

The views from the road were amazing.  No one else was out there.  We had the beauty all to ourselves. The above photo shows the view to the west, toward the Colorado River, with the LaSal Mountains in the background.  The big butte looming in front of the snowy peaks is known as Cleopatra's Chair.  It's composed of Navajo sandstone and stands 520 feet above the mesa top.  Below that are the horizontal bands of the Kayenta formation. The vertical sandstone layers below that are Wingate Sandstone. 

We were surprised to find an actual sign, because the condition of the two-track indicated that we had left civilization far behind.

One tiny drawback was the roadbuilding required when we came to a washed out section we couldn't go around.  We piled rocks and shoveled a whole lot of dirt, filling a space about 3 feet deep and 3 feet wide to accommodate the wheels of truck and trailer.  Our redneck-engineered roadbed worked for us, but it'll come tumbling down with the next big rain.  We're just glad it didn't tumble while we were crossing it!  (We did take the horses out of the trailer before venturing across - both to make the trailer lighter, and for the horses' safety in case our road construction didn't hold up.) 
The chains you see on the truck were necessary to get through deep sand that had blown over the road.  We would have been stuck several times over without those chains.
Needless to say, it was a long day, but we were able to make camp before dark, and slept soundly with miles of sandy trails dancing in our somewhat addled heads.