Showing posts with label petrified wood. Show all posts
Showing posts with label petrified wood. Show all posts

Monday, December 21, 2009

De-Na-Zin Wilderness

Beyond the Bisti Badlands, another, larger wilderness area stretches for thousands of acres across some of the most desolate land in the state: the De-Na-Zin Wilderness.

I was alone when I visited the Bisti Badlands, except for my dog Cassidy. After seeing my photos from that trip, my spouse Steve was eager to join me in exploring the area I had only glimpsed in September. So a few weeks later, in mid-November of 2006, we returned to see what we could find.


The De-Na-Zin lies upstream from the Bisti, in the same watershed. To say upstream is deceiving, as there is no water flowing in the dry arroyos. The area was carved from an ancient seabed by the glaciers, thousands of years ago. Here you can see the layers of sedimentary rock that were deposited on the floor of a vast inland sea that covered much of the interior of our continent during the Cretaceous period.

As in the Bisti, there are many petrified logs to be found here. I imagine these may have been species similiar to the cypress of the bayous of Louisiana, adapted to live in shallow water. Many have a similar shape, with the base of the trunk gracefully flared. Although we didn't find any, dinosaur fossils are also sometimes discovered here.

The eastern end of the De-Na-Zin is composed of colorful shales from the Kirtland formation. Further west and lower in elevation, in the Bisti Badlands, the Fruitland Formation is exposed. This is composed of sandstone, mudstone, coal, shale, and silt; a rich combination of rocks which respond in different ways to the persistent touch of wind and rain.

The basin receives only around eight inches of rain a year, and plant and animal life is scarce. A rare seep we chanced upon showed signs of life; bird, deer and coyote tracks in the mud. Such a water hole is a precious resource here. Cassidy, of course, drank her fill.

Bizarre hoodoos dot the trailess landscape. This is a designated wilderness area and very remote. A GPS is recommended, if you don't have a Cassidy.

In researching for this blog entry, I learned that we were not supposed to climb on the geologic features. I didn't see any sign stating this, and so I want to pass this and other restrictions on now.
  1. No mountain bike or motorized vehicles.
  2. No campfires, no collecting of fossils or petrified wood.
  3. No groups of more than eight people.
  4. No trespassing on tribal lands.
  5. Grazing, scientific research, and commercial guides need permits.
I don't believe that our presence caused any harm to these features. We only climbed on ones that were solid. However, there are hoodoos and other structures which could be damaged that way, so please use good judgement!

Don't climb this one, for example!

Nor these.

I apologize for the smudged photo, but had to show you these formations regardless. Aren't they beautiful? It is an amazing place, and refreshingly devoid of trash, graffiti, and other reminders of "civilization".

For all of the variation in these photos, we were only there for a few hours. It would be wonderful to hike in and spend several days exploring. The light for photography would be much better near dawn and dusk.

Another hoodoo...love that word!

This formation was fascinating.

It turned out to be an enormous petrified log. Note the packrat nest in the end.

Here's another huge log. Steve has a reach of well over six feet, so you can see how big this tree was.

OK, I know now that this was a no-no. Very sorry, won't do it again!

We ran across some rock which evidently had a high iron content, to guess from the rusty coloration.

More wonders.

And more...

A perfect mushroom. This was taken in mid-November, so we were dressed for cold weather. Spring and fall are the best times to visit this area, as summer temperatures can soar to over 100 F, and monsoon rains or snow can make the dirt roads impassable. Hats are a necessity, and layers are a good idea. It's important to be aware of weather conditions.


A last look at some petrified logs before we headed back to town. It is a long way to go for a one-day trip( over three hours each way), but the nice thing about going with Steve is that we have good long conversations in the car. I can't wait to go back and spend a longer time there. We barely touched the fringe of this amazing place!

Friday, November 13, 2009

Bisti Badlands Part II

Picking up where we left off in the previous blog about Bisti (scroll down past the next one to see it first if you haven't yet)...

And so the sun came out and the day warmed up at last. I was entranced all over again with the bizarre formations and roamed all over taking pictures with my little Pentax.

I couldn't shake the feeling that I'd been transported, like in some Twilight Zone episode, to an alien world. Rocks rose like waves, frozen into unimaginably delicate whipped froth.

And the beasts of the Bisti Badlands were everywhere, usually more humerous than frightening. If you click on this one to enlarge it you'll see what I mean.

Here's a great example of a disintegrated petrified tree, the vertical trunk fractured into fragments while the roots remain intact.

As the sun lowered in the west, the light kept getting better for photography. I needed to stay fairly close to the van. I didn't want to be out there lost in the dark!

I shot as late as I could, moving closer all the time to the sheltering cliff beside which I had parked, out of sight of the dirt road.

At last the sun set and I settled in for the night. It grew very cold, and I ate my simple supper in my sleeping bag inside the van. I soon fell into a deep and dreamless sleep. When I woke up the next morning I decided that I must've seen all there was to see of the Bisti. A fence stopped me from exploring further east, and to the west and north I could see the main road and distant buildings and power lines. I had read that this was a wilderness area made up of tens of thousands of acres, and, in spite of the natural beauty I had enjoyed, I was a bit disappointed. I decided to head to the larger part of the wilderness area, some miles east, called the De-Nah- Zin.

I started to drive back out to the main road, went about quarter of a mile, and stopped short. I was stunned by a sign and a stile marking the entrance to the Bisti-Denazin Wilderness Area. In my wonder at the landscape the day before, I had driven right past this modest parking area; the previous day's exploration had all been outside the actual designated site! I had another day I could spend hiking, and my time was my own, so I parked and hopped out with renewed enthusiasm. Cassidy, a bit confused but willing as always to go for a walk, led the way down the well-worn trail.


"Now Junior, behave yourself!"

We entered a large drainage basin shaped roughly like the upturned palm of a hand; the hand of one of the ancient Titans. There was a broad plain several miles in length, with finger-like canyons that disappeared into the higher land beyond. I knew I couldn't get lost; to return I could just head back downstream.

And there was indeed a stream, small and opaque, which thrilled the pooch. She can't pass a body of water without wanting to go into it. This one was no exception, and she came out pretty mucky and stinky. Although designated as a wilderness area, ranchers apparently are allowed to graze their cattle in the area. The creek was polluted. Crossing it to get away from the trail, we headed south and discovered...

...forms even more attenuated than those we had seen before...

...and wind sculpted hoodoos, while the evidence of a drowned forest remained all around us.

Exploring the flats we stumbled on these happy clams...or are they hamburgers?

With every step I discovered new delights. And it was practically deserted! I only saw one or two other people all day, though it was a weekend and a perfect day.

Then I spotted my first whole petrified log, perched on top of a mud pedestal. I had been to the Petrified Forest, in Arizona by Interstate 40. But there was a much greater sense of discovery here, where there were no trails to guide me, and no signs to interpret the sights, leaving me free wander and to speculate.

And so I sussed that when trees lay horizontally, they are not susceptible to the penetration of water, and don't break up with freezing the way the vertical ones do.

Which way shall we go? What a delight, to have such wide, trackless space to explore!

We found a beautifully preserved log in a sheltered nook and stopped for lunch. I had brought a bag of buffalo jerky, which proved to be the perfect trail food. Of course I shared it with Cassidy.

This side canyon was particularly beautiful, with many grand columns and petrified logs.

Everywhere we turned the beasts continued to emerge from the stone.

It was in that sacred canyon that I discovered someone had been moved to do ritual here. It seemed a fitting tribute.

In this close-up you can see how well the grain of the wood is preserved in stone.

At last it was time to turn back. I ran out of batteries for the camera just about then. From there I went on to De-Na-Zin, but was too tired to do much more hiking. However, I knew Steve would love this place as much as I did, and I planned to return with him just as soon as we could get away.

If you go, know that this is very, very basic: no campground, no water, no toilets. As you can see from the pictures, there is very little vegetation. Come prepared for desert hiking. Where a broad-brimmed hat, and

Saturday, November 7, 2009

Bisti Badlands Part I

Before I even moved to New Mexico I had once seen a calendar photo that lodged like a thorn in my imagination. It was of a place called the Bisti Badlands...a name to conjure with! Of course I assumed, based on the weirdly animal-like forms I had seen in the picture, that it was pronounced "beastie' badlands. How could I not want to go there? But I had trouble finding anyone willing to go with me. It wasn't that close, and would mean an overnight at least. At last I decided to go by myself, with Cassidy for company. I threw a pad and blankets in the car, got some food, the dog, and headed west. Just before getting there, I stopped to take this shot of some promising rock formations.

Finally I spotted a small sign pointing out a gravel road which it promised would take me to the fabled Bisti Badlands. The entire area is Navaho land, and I passed a small herd of their horses just after making the turn.

I drove into another world. I had expected some kind of signage, maybe a campground or outhouse at the least. All I saw were waves of pale eroded rock...or not rock, but rather very old mud, carved into bizarre shapes by eons of wind and water.

Cassidy was thrilled to be let out of the car at last. With no one around, I gave her free rein, and she went all coyote, running up and down exploring this strange new world, totally alert with all senses.

Cassidy in coyote mode.

The rock formations more than satisfied my expectation of what I'd see in a beastie badlands! To me these rocks recalled a scene in Yellow Submarine. Know the one I mean? Blue Meanies!

It was a place full of mysteries. Everywhere I went I found mounds of tiny tesseract tiles in shades of rust, sienna, umber, slate. They lay scattered on the surface of the mudstone, in roughly circular concentrations. It took me a while to figure out what they were, and how they could possibly be scattered on the top of ancient mud.

In addition to the broken chips, there were also tubular formations of similiar color running horizontally through the mudstone. They were crystalline and sparkled, looking quartz-like, though with dark pigmentation. Mystery!

I took this close-up, beginning to have a theory of how such a mineral formation might have come about. Now I feel I was really dense. I grew up calling myself a rock-hound, and should have gotten it sooner! Have you figured it out?

I finally came across this absolutely obvious piece of evidence just as I had pretty much reached the conclusion that the quartzite tubes and chips were petrified wood! The tile chips were all that was left of trees which had been standing when the area was hit by a devastating flood millions of years ago. Buried in mud, the trees gradually transformed to stone, molecule by molecule.

Eventually the mudstone which encased the trees eroded away. As the stone trees were exposed, they too eroded, succumbing to the devastating process of freezing and thawing which New Mexico now undergoes every winter. Vertical trees were prone to disintegrate as fast as they were exposed, because their structure, even though stone, was based on the structure of the living trees. Water was able to enter the vertically-oriented layers of the cambium and then freeze, expand, and break the layers apart bit by bit. All that is left is the shattered remains of an ancient forest. The horizontal tubes were roots.

Cassidy just laughed. She'd known it all along, of course.

Just about that time the storm which had been threatening all day finally began to lift. It had been cold and windy all day, and had almost felt like it would snow, although only the fall equinox.

Even as the day was coming to an end, the light now increased. I welcomed the sun with a grateful spirit, and was rewarded with a whole new experience of the area. Forms which had seemed flat now stood out in clear definition. And I continued to be amazed at the lack of human presence. Everywhere I walked it seemed my foot prints were the only ones there.

As the sun broke through in earnest, the full beauty of the mudstone carvings was revealed. I wandered around snapping more pictures of this dreamscape, which still had surprises in store for me. I will continue the tale in my next blog. Meanwhile, if you are interested, you can google Bisti Badlands and find many more posts about this amazing place.