Tahquamenon Falls July 26

 

It took some doing to get excited about a vacation in Michigan's Upper Peninsula between the lack of topography and difficulty in reserving campsites months in advance, but eventually I got to the point of enthusiasm and excitement to see some new things, travel around in a borrowed campervan, and maybe look for rocks and minerals on some beaches. Our first stop was Tahquamenon Falls State Park which Heather remembered from childhood visits. The Lower Falls is really a series of multiple ledge falls split by a major island; a 5 mile trail along the river leads to the 200ft-wide Upper Falls, which is one of the largest waterfalls east of the Mississippi River. For our visit we planned to park at the Lower Falls, hike up to the Upper Falls, paddle back down to the Lower Falls, then end at the campground right at the takeout. From Grand Rapids it was a pretty staunch drive 5 hour drive that was one of the most generic stretches of driving I have ever done: straight flat highways through lots and lots of trees. I soon began to appreciate the very nice and abundant roadside rest stops along Michigan's roadways- really top notch. 

The 5 mi-long Mackinaw Bridge connecting the Lower Peninsula to the Upper Peninsula (and spanning the gap between Lake Michigan and Lake Huron was the only real standout to the drive. Almost immediately I began to appreciate the ways that the Upper Peninsula likes to set itself apart. Car decals, electoral candidate signs, and advertisements all overused the outline of the Upper Peninsula (a wonky bat?) without any appearance from the more famous Lower Peninsula mitten. The general sentiment of these Yoopers seemed to be "come visit, leave your money here, then fuck off" and I saw signs that said as much. I could only imagine the deeper cultural rift if we had a similar physical divide between northern and southern California.

Anyway we arrived at the Lower Tahquamenon Falls parking lot around 1pm (quite busy!) and set off down the trail. It started as an overcrowded boardwalk skirting around the enormous lake of a collection pool that must be impressive at high flows. We stopped at a couple views of the northside lower falls and both were surprised at the number of people in the water. I could see a line to run it at the current low flow but it looked kind of scrape-y and not particularly fun. The colors were particularly bizarre as the brown tannin-stained waters were further accentuated by the orange haze of wildfire smoke from Canada that gave everything a sepia-tinted atmosphere. After we passed the bridge over the the island, the trail sign warned of unmaintained rough conditions on the trail to the Upper Falls and sure enough we almost immediately had roots and mud puddles to navigate. The previous day I stupidly managed to strain my calf muscle running so I was a limping mess on this trail, even nearly falling several times. The start of the trail was actually the worst part, other than the still, humid, sweat-drenching air that hung in the forest throughout the whole hike. It was the definition of muggy. Still the trail meandered up benches and back down along the river's edge with overgrown boardwalks and several stairs. 

After about 2 hours hiking and 5 miles we reached the viewpoint at the lip of the Upper Falls. Brand new handicapped accessible paths snaked their way down to the wooden platform. The falls formed a remarkably even curtain over the bedrock ledge apart from a distinct higher volume flowing over its most jutting tip (the kayak line). I was impressed and it was hard to knock the falls. The tourists on the other hand...in a few short minutes I overheard conversations about kids and parents wanting to graffiti on the brand new railing and spotted the hundreds of coins that had been thrown in the water near the edge of the falls. For my part I was more than a little tempted to jump the falls; it was about the right height with the main trick being how to maneuver yourself into jumping position before getting swept off. I was excited to put the tourist's behind us and work our way down to the end of the Gorge Trail boardwalk near the water's edge. 

Around 4:30p we were inflated and ready to go with me content in shorts and no shirt between the air and water temperatures. We paddled up to the base of the falls and explored its left edge where we could beach ourselves and I could pop behind the curtain of the falls for a view out. Again the water temperature, spray, and swirling hydraulics delighted me. The view was significantly better looking up at the waterfall compared to looking down at the viewpoint. Heather later mysteriously found a penny in her boat; I am convinced someone threw into into her boat from the viewpoint by mistake.   

As we saw on the way up there was several miles of completely still flatwater before the river picked up within the last mile of the lower falls. The flatwater was less horrible than I thought and was actually quite pleasant. Of note, this was my virgin voyage of my new Alpacka Mage self-bailer; I noticed and appreciated the slight performance efficiency vs my aging Gnarwhal as well as the extra heigh I could get with the seat. The air was fresh unlike the swamp air in the forest and there was lots of greenery to see. We saw signs of beaver but surprisingly little wildlife apart from ducks, geese, and a single turtle. Three miles went by rather quickly at a pace of about 1.8 mph while paddling. Strangely Heather was consistently being pestered and bitten by bugs while I was largely unafflicted despite being shirtless; usually I would be the one bearing the brunt of bites.

As we approached the lower falls there were a few shallow river-wide ledges for us to navigate, certainly more fun at higher flows. The shallow waters and generally no consequence hydraulics throughout this section reminded Heather and I of the Sudura River we paddled in Iceland. Heather portaged the last ledge drop before the river splits while I ran it for the closest thing to whitewater we did on this run.

We then paddled over to the true right (southern) lower falls and stopped for a refreshing dip in the water (again noticing the sepia-toned light) before portaging. I did a straightforward direct portage around the falls while Heather opted for a longer one down to the "lake" where the waters rejoined. A further quick paddle over to the base of the other lower falls, then we paddled back across the lake and carried our boats back to a much less busy parking lot. 

Spooky light from distant Canadian wildfires

Packed up, we settled into our campsite just past the parking lot at the Portage Campground (nice place, no complaints, compliments on the free hot showers). The local brand blueberry beer Heather bought earlier on a whim at the nearby gas station convenience store (party store I guess they uniquely call them here) was surprisingly tasty. Although more consistent whitewater would have upped my grade, our Upper-Lower Tahquamenon Falls hike-and-paddle loop was scenic, chill, and a welcome way to start our Upper Peninsula adventures. We thought the day we over when we settled into our comfortable bed for the night but were woken slightly after midnight to aggressive thunder, bright lightning flashes, and pounding rain and hail. For about 20 minutes it stormed. Heather had just enough service to look up the weather radar and see a bright bullseye centered directly on us and also to see a weather alert mentioning extreme weather and half-dollar-sized hail centered directly on Tahquamenon Falls! Looking outside I could see our entire campsite was a lake and I was very appreciative to be safe and cozy in our campervan. It was a very memorable storm. As with my other Michigan posts, a special thanks to Heather's parents for the loan of their campervan which served us very well.

Petrified Forest NP July 20

 

We rounded out our Mesa Verde and Rio Chama trips with a brief stop at Petrified Forest NP. I had not been through the main park drive since 2008 so I did not mind a visit to break up our drive home. We entered the north entrance a few minutes after they opened then checked out the historic Painted Desert Inn, which had some interesting time period specific displays including the 1950s dining room and soda fountain bar (banana split 30¢, milk shake 20¢, etc.). This is where Heather and I started our day hike into the Painted Desert wilderness on our last visit.

Historic Painted Desert Inn (and below)

Painted Desert wilderness off to the north

After crossing the wash (with water and fresh signs of a flash flood the previous night), we stopped briefly at Puerco Pueblo. Though not much to see compared to Mesa Verde, it was nonetheless interesting to imagine how life must have been different between the two sites and the monumental effort in trading across the 200 miles between them. Along the south escarpment next to the pueblo ruins were several boulders with nicely constructed petroglyphs including a neat mazelike motif (below). Back at the car and a short distance further we detoured for the Newspaper Rock viewpoint. Unfortunately we could get nowhere near it and had to admire the hundreds of glyphs as best we could at a distance.

Newspaper Rock (one of them at least)

Next we turned off to do a short (but warm!) hike from the Blue Mesa trailhead. We started along the the paved loop trail as it followed the rim of the mesa and then dropped down into the colorful badlands. We then turned off these to follow the remnants of the old CCC-built Blue Forest Trail to some views of more striped badlands with petrified logs interspersed. Returning, we finished the Blue Mesa loop trail and I quickly downed the cold gatorade I had waiting in the cooler. The views were delightfully varied for such a short hike.

We made brief stops at Agate Bridge and Jasper Forest overlooks, then on to the very popular Crystal Forest Trail. Though not the largest or necessarily densest, this is undoubtedly the most colorful collection of petrified wood anywhere in the wild. I enjoyed photographing close-up textures, ringed rounds, and logs in various states of disaggregation. The frontispiece log reminiscent of a chopped vegetable being the most classic example of an eroding petrified log that I remembered from my previous visit. We exited the south entrance and then drove on to Flagstaff (hard to pass by Fratelli's without a slice!) and then home for unpacking and in short order packing again for our next trip. Thanks to Heather.

Rio Chama July 18-19

 

It has been a dry 2026: for the US river permit lottery system, the western US snowpack, and me going mid-July before I got on a river. A permit for the 22mi wilderness section of the Rio Chama, a major tributary of the Rio Grande in northwestern New Mexico was the only lottery win Heather or I got this year. Grim I thought but we might as well use it. It was Heather's permit and I was grateful that she took the lead on planning, giving me a rare opportunity to show up with minimal background on the river, rapids, side hikes, camps, and terrain. We went through a slew of personnel changes on the permit but eventually ended up with 7 including Zora the dog. Although a wilderness section, the flows were controlled by scheduled releases from El Vado Reservoir just upstream of the put-in. We initially planned for a three day paddle until we realized the 500cfs recreational release shuts off Sunday afternoon for a 100cfs baseflow so we shifted plans for an overnight. In the end we opted to have one car shuttled to Chavez Canyon (Mile 22 at the end of the wilderness run) and one shuttled to Big Eddy (Mile 31 at the end of the day run section. This gave us options to finish early if progress was slow and the river was too low, to finish somewhere along the day section and run the road back to the nearest car, or to paddle the full section of the river. Heather, David, and myself detoured to check the put-in and touch the water the afternoon before (cold but very manageable without a wetsuit/drysuit) then drove the short distance to meet Keith, Kari, and Zora at our "lakefront" (the lake was a half-mile out of sight because of the low water levels) campsites and then later was joined by Maia.

We arrived at the El Vado Ranch put-in bright and early all things considered but found it already a flurry of activity with several other launches that day. The volunteer ranger checked us in before too long and ran through our required gear. It is always hard to anticipate what they are going to object to; this time they were fine with my hyper-portable firepan (required despite fires being disallowed...) and our various throw ropes, first aid kits, and PFDs, but were displeased at our carefully constructed poop tubes because we were apparently a large enough group that we needed to bring a full ammo can toilet that we would have no way of transporting. After a little bit of a hard time he let it pass.

At 10am we were finally on the water, the first group to push out. The scenery started with an open valley of Morrison Formation bedded mudstones lightly covered in pinyon-juniper forest before sandstone cliffs began to rise from the river. There were remarkably few pools on the river as the current remained pretty consistent between the many light riffles. Happily we made 3-3.5 mph progress with some occasional paddling which meant a more relaxed less grindy trip. At four miles in we made a brief snack stop at the hot spring set in a marsh a stone throw away from the river. The temperature and depth were perfect but it was hard not to cloud the water by stirring up the silt floor. I was the only one to fully emerge as everyone else was content to soak their feet on the edge. It was too bad the hot spring was not further along; it would have been pleasant to camp near.

We continued on down the river, soon realizing it was very much like the San Juan River with named rapids being not much more than slightly splashy read-and-run riffles. It was a very chill river, easy to make a constant pace with a nice variety of scenery- much better than expected. The camps we past were very nicely laid out with signposts and rock stairways leading in to nice flats such that you really could not go wrong with any of the camps. The scraggily pinyon forest led us into lusher Ponderosa pine and Douglas fir draped on rising cliff-banded canyon walls. We saw a few other groups but most of the time had the river to ourselves. The only annoyance was the compromised valve on my seat which meant that I had to stop to reinflate my seat every 20 minutes or so. At about Mile 10 we stopped to scout Aragon Rapid as we were advised if we were going to scout one it should be this. It was a very straightforward read-and-run; as we later found out, some of the day section rapids actually had a bit more bite to them. As the day got on the thunderstorm clouds built. The river also evolved from a cold and clear reservoir flow to a cool murky-brown from all the acquired suspended sediment from the local rocks. The last camp was at Mile 18 so at Mile 15 we began to enter the zone where we should look for a camp, especially after passing a couple occupied ones and the draw of having our camp set up before any thunderstorm descended on us. At Mile 15.4 I pulled in to check out Entrada Camp which I thought perfectly pleasant and we called it a day at 4pm.

Quite scenic really!

Aragon Rapid

We had a nice and chill evening in camp. I ended up going for a solo half-mile hike behind camp to climb a ridge and traverse across to gain the top of the prominent sandstone cliff towering over the river. From here I got great views downstream towards the Chama Wall and upstream towards Navajo Peak. It was an incredibly sweaty humid hike but I was glad I made the effort. Thunderstorms and rain threatened for a time but largely missed us.

Entrada Camp

We put on at about 8:30a in the morning, giving us plenty of day to wrap up our river trip. We passed underneath Chama Wall, the largest sandstone bluff on the river, after the first riverbend from camp. Owing to our early start we passed many other groups still in camp and had the river to ourselves. Around Mile 20 the river got annoyingly flat requiring very deliberate paddling for about a mile. Also around this section the confined forested canyon gave way to a wide valley of multi-tiered slopes. Keith, Kari, Maia, and Zora opted to get off the river at Chavez Canyon (Mile 22 at 10am), while Heather, David, and I came this far and we interested in the bonus 9 miles of the day run to our car. 

Chama Wall

The Chavez boat launch was bristling with activity and unsurprisingly we saw several other groups paddling along the day section. The scenery was not quite on par with the wilderness run but the day section actually had better rapids (still read-and-run riffles) and allowed us to keep a 3 mph pace. The temperature was warm with clouds building already but pleasantly complimented the slight chill of the river. Apart from light scraping of the occasional ghost rock hiding in the murky water the 500cfs flow were no real issue. We made it to Big Eddy a little before 2pm and had the bollards near the boat dock drying our gear in the warm sun while we took a few laps floating down the refreshing river against the cliffs here. Fairly efficiently and with most gear dry, we loaded up and drove out the the highway. 

We drove lonely desolate roads counter-clockwise around the massif of Valles Caldera (a new drive for me), passing by and through some very impressive roving thunderstorms. Weighing our grim camping options in this part of the reservation, we eventually came up with a plan to book a cheap hotel in Gallup then to spend a few hours passing through Petrified Forest on the way home.

While the effort and cost-per-mile with permits and shuttle to get to the Rio Chama does not give me much interest in a repeat, I thought it was a very worthwhile stretch of river and I think we all were more impressed with it than we thought we would be and had a great trip. Special thanks to Heather for spearheading the trip logistics as trip leader.

Mesa Verde NP July 16-17

 

Somehow Mesa Verde National Park had managed to elude me until now, probably because of its location at the Colorado corner of the Colorado Plateau, furthest away from the places I usually make efforts to visit. Prior to our Rio Chama river trip we decided to tack on a couple days exploring Mesa Verde to help justify the effort to drive here. I've long enjoyed the mystery, uniqueness, and sense of place conveyed by cliff dwellings and have sought them out, particularly some of the excellent find-and-explore-yourself ones around Comb Ridge, Cedar Mesa, and Natural Bridges. The cliff dwellings at Mesa Verde are some of the largest around with several complexes with more than a hundred rooms. I was interested to see these, even knowing the need for ranger-led tours, paved trails, and early 1900s reconstructions would detract from the experience. 

After a stormy night in our campsite next to Jackson Gulch Reservoir near Mancos, we drove to the park entrance station. Notably my annual parks pass just expired and I disappointingly had to purchase a new 2026 pass with Trump's self-appointed scowling face under "America the Beautiful" text. It was a rude start to trying to celebrate visiting a new national park and as I write this I can still feel the gross weight of it glaring through my wallet. We followed the park entrance road as it climbed the crest of the cuesta and then meandered in and out along the heads of the southward draining valleys. The terrain was subdued here with no cliffs in sight other than the north escarpment down to Montezuma Valley and pretty sparse remnant pinyon-juniper forest. The parched terrain was further accentuated by the scars of many significant fires over the last several decades including most notably the 2000 Bircher Fire that burned 22,000 acres, 2002 Long Mesa Fire, and 2000 Pony Fire which each showed essentially no sign of recovery. Even more than a melting glacier, this park punctuates a dramatic changing climate: flowing springs and verdant gardens that once supported thousands of people in vibrant communities now replaced by barely moist seeps and forests of lifeless blackened trunks on the desolate mesatops.

First up was our 9am tour of Balcony House. Billed as the most adventurous tour, it involved climbing a steep 30 foot-high ladder to gain the dwelling and crawling along a dark, narrow passageway to exit. It was a mid-sized village of 38 rooms and two kivas. Although the ruins themselves are on a balcony halfway up a vertical cliff, the house got its name for well-preserved adobe ledges at the front of several of the two-story buildings that were used to travel between rooms. The extensive and somewhat crude reconstruction efforts detracted some from the sights but you could still get a small sense of what it must have been like to call this cliff-clinging village home by walking through the passageways and standing on the patio between the twin roofless kivas. We clung towards the back of the tour group which allowed me to get several views without our fellow tourists. I appreciated the unrushed pace of all the tours we went on in the park.  We all agree that of the three tours we did this one felt the most intimate (like we were in it) as you could peer through small windows and have views reveal themselves at the end of dark hallways. Relatedly, I probably took more photos of this tour than the others. The kiva floors and walls were some of the best we saw (but again probably sharply reconstructed). I also enjoyed seeing the different generations of buildings and how they amalgamated to build the village. I never did get a complete explanation of how the inhabitants commuted to and from this most cliffy of cliff dwellings we visited.

A nice example of a balcony spanning multiple generations of construction

An intimate window between the two main plazas at the site

Detail of a kiva in the foreground

With time before our 11:30a tour of Cliff Palace, we drove to the museum complex for a snack and a short walk to an overlook of Spruce Tree House, the third largest cliff dwelling in the park at 130 rooms and 8 kivas. In the past there was an opportunity to self-guide this ruin but the trail was closed so we had to be content viewing it across the canyon with binoculars. The most prominent feature was an impressive three-story wall containing a block of at least 8 rooms set behind a prominent kiva and plaza. A lush woodland in front of the ruins contrasted with the oranges of the cliffs and structures.

Spruce Tree House

Next up was the Cliff Palace tour which started at its overlook. Of over 600 cliff dwellings in the park, Cliff Palace is the singular one that people associate with Mesa Verde. It is the largest cliff dwelling on North America with 150 rooms and 23 kivas (an oddly large number suggesting it was an important social and ceremonial site for not just the inhabitants but others in the region and on the contemporary mesatop villages). Less a palace and more of a sprawling metropolis, it really was noteworthy for its stairstepping levels and depth towards the dark back of the alcoves. My favorite features were how some of the towers were built into the boulders and outcrop on the floor and also the now-inaccessible storage ledge well up the overhang of the cliff that was not visible from the lookout above. The tour itself was less interactive than the previous, as we largely just walked the path along the front of the ruins with a short detour to gather around one of the kivas. There was a lot going on wherever you looked with layer after layer of structures (the frontispiece highlights this nicely).

Cliff Palace (and below)

After Cliff Palace we drove the loop around Chapin Mesa checking out the roadside stops. The museum was a bust as the exhibits were closed for renovations. Towards the start we stopped at the overlook for Square Tower House, another famous and imposing structure masterfully built into the wall of the alcove. It was not until looking at my photos later that I noticed the stacked rocks on a sketchy sloping ledge ABOVE the tower- count me thoroughly impressed!

Square Tower House (and below)

Notice the stacked rocks above and left of the tower!

Like most visitors, I did not fully appreciate the extent, importance, and deeper history of the villages and pueblos on the mesatops above the cliffs. Along the driving loop were many stops to see some of these partially excavated, housed within structures to protect them from the elements. While these are much less to look at and appreciate compared to the cliff dwellings, the interpretive signs did a good job painting a more thorough picture of life on Mesa Verde 1500 to 700 years ago. At my favorite of these mesa sites was an example of three separate generations of kivas built overprinting each other with the oldest structure stratigraphically the lowest. The heavily reconstructed Sun Temple was another oddity with its combination of both rounded and squared walls. Partway through we stopped at the roadside stand to have some powdered sugar Navajo fry bread. Along some of the rim roads we could see the otherworldy spire of Shiprock erupting from the plateau a solid 45 miles to the southwest.

Three generations of overprinted kivas (left, right, then center)

Sun Temple detail

Just as thunderstorms descended on us we exited the park and caught up with my friend Jeff in Mancos. He gave us an impromptu tour of the Alpacka Raft factory which was actually really cool to see. We got to see the different machines and stations that transform the raw fabrics into hand-crafted works of modern form and function. After that we had appetizers in the local wine-and-book hangout, then a meal before returning to our campsite outside of town (dodging the many deer along the way). As continued throughout our trip, we had pleasantly cool monsoon-fueled sleeping temperatures. 

The following day we stopped at the bakery in town and then drove the longer road out to Wetherill Mesa at the far side of the park for our Long House tour. We walked the trail through a charred skeleton of a forest to our meeting site then shortly began the tour.

Long House (150 rooms, 21 kivas) is nearly equal in size to the more famous Cliff Palace but actually probably housed considerably more people based on its layout. This too had a now-inaccessible upper storage level above the dwellings. I enjoyed this tour more than Cliff Palace as we got to climb and ladder to go up into the shadows at the back of the alcove and look out. Back here was the crucial life-sustaining spring. An intricate network of carved channels in the bedrock floor leading to perfect ladle-shaped depressions was one of the more unique features we saw and was really special. It was easy to imagine people crouched over to scoop water out of this delicate water source. The spring's modern flow is clearly much less than it used to be, another clear sign of shifting climates and a more verdant pas

Long House (and below)

Carved pathways and cupules to channel drinking water from the spring

After the tour we took the short hike down to Step House near the parking lot. Though the only self-guided cliff dwelling, it had much less interest to me apart from the reconstruction of a pit house.

With that we had a brief stop at the fancy new visitor center at the park entrance (the only infrastructure at the park not in a state of decay) and drove east with a pupusa stop in Durango and then a brief stop to check out the riverside hot springs in the center of Pagosa Springs before driving on to our campsite near our Rio Chama put-in. 

Overall we had a nice day and a half in Mesa Verde, satisfied at seeing most of what is on offer for public viewing and a little deeper appreciation for life 700 years ago. I was certainly appreciative of the tours as it would be a much different experience if we were purely limited to distant overlooks. Thanks to Jeff for the catchup, apps, and factory tour.