The property has been damaged over time by weather and earthquakes, but the restoration is now very active and visible onsite. On the outside the white walls and well-defined forms are returning, and inside the colors are regaining their former visual pizzazz.

After the gift shop and introductory history lessons, the desert museum opens up to a well hidden network of outdoor walking trails that connect a wide variety of exhibits. The plants are visible and labeled throughout, as well. Unexpected things emerge. There is an open walk-through hummingbird aviary where the birds whir right up to take a look at you, as well as a separate very large aviary that hosts a many large and colorful birds. An artificial series of tree-covered pools provide a home for beavers and river otters, visible both from above and from underwater via underground glass walls. Large mammals such as javelinas, coyotes, and coatis run loose in areas with well hidden fine net fencing that give the appearance of open countryside. And larger beasts such as bighorn sheep, black bears, mountain lions, and Mexican wolves are all closely viewed in artificial but natural-looking rocky areas. Smaller creatures are also readily accessible, such as prairie dogs, owls, and many species of snakes, fish, and creepy crawly insects of all shapes and sizes. A cave and mining exhibit rounds out the experience.

There are informative docents wandering about, some with birds or animals on their arms. The raptor free flight show is also a highlight, where a family of Harris Hawks demonstrate how they converge together to hone in on prey that gets shared after the kill.

The Arizona-Sonora Desert Museum is well recommended, and surprisingly interesting.

Harris hawk

Harris hawks and saguaro cactus

Harris hawk calling at raptor free flight demonstration

Harris hawks looking out across Arizona-Sonora Desert Museum area

Hummingbird aviary

Walk-in aviary

The walking trails and exhibits are hidden here within the landscape

Saguaro and Sun

At the Visitors Center, an open air tram (truck pulling trailers with open air rows of seats) was available that drove to the end of the road, meandering along the canyon bottom while criss-crossing over a dry but flood-prone riverbed. The tram driver narrated along the way about history, geology, and local life. Our particular narrator was inadvertently quite entertaining since his I’m-stoned, slow, monotone voice was comical. His minute long explanation that he didn’t know why a particular cliff had its name was good for a giggle.

At the end of the road, passengers could either return via the tram to the bottom of the canyon or else a few folks hopped off and hiked back along the canyon’s upper reaches via the Phone Line Trail. Except for some ascending switchbacks at the beginning, the entire 4 miles of trail was a gradual and steady downhill back to our cars. Plant life and the occasional critter poked out among the desert scenery, with distant mountain and canyon views along the way. It was a very good introduction to the area, its topography, and its ecosystem.

Hiking Phone Line Trail in Sabino Canyon Recreation Area

Canyon and mountain views along the Phoneline Trail

Saguaro cactus and cliffs in Sabino Canyon

Dead saguaro disintegrate in unusual ways

Hiking through Sabino Canyon Recreation Area

(Scroll to the bottom of the article to also see photos from the trip)

Hells Canyon, the deepest canyon in all of North America, was deeper even than the Grand Canyon. It was boxed by beautiful, austere metamorphic rock ramparts that cascade through millions of years right before us. Its massive drainage basin made the river flow into a white water rafting joy ride.

Our first step on the journey was to make arrangements with the Miss Manners of rafting: a lady who runs a car shuttle operation. Twice in front of us she gave advice to customers in her store. She told one man to say “yes, please” when he answered her question with just a “yes”. Another man was told not to stare at her (he wasn’t; just waiting in line). The shuttle service convenience was worth putting up with the motherly condescension though, and we were soon on our way driving to literally the end of the road.

The blast-chiseled asphalt hugged the Snake River canyon cliffs between Idaho and Oregon all the way out to Hells Canyon Creek Recreation Site, where a nice ranger checked our stuff and permits and then sent us on our way with her blessing. After gearing up, we slid my brother’s 14 foot raft down a steep 50 foot slide to the waiting river below. We were just past the dam, and it was all open river before us.

The river sped us along at a steady pace, rushing by at 24,000 cubic feet per second. A regular cadence of Class II, III, and IV rapids were formed from the unseen underwater results of rock slides and drift piles, interspersed with restful flats to take in the views. Famous rapids such as Wild Sheep Rapids and “The Green Room” of Granite Rapids came up quickly after some easier rapids that we got limbered up on.

The dilapidated remains of old homesteader cabins would occasionally pass by at the edge of a valuable water-source creek. The inhospitably dry and hot land was homesteaded back to the 1880s, and eventually peaked at almost 100 families along the entire length. Farmers, herders, and boatmen made a hard living on their free land (claimed from the government). If they could survive the first two years of getting irrigation, housing, orchard, livestock, and a rhythm of survival in place, they could then have sustainable lives there for many years. But the harsh conditions and lonely lifestyle wreaked havoc with most people.

It was previously a community nonetheless, although spread out. Marriages, births, murder, gossip, petty squabbles, and many helping hands were there, as everywhere. Most people tried to make income from cow and sheep, with occasional crops and later some tourism. A few finds of copper and gold sprouted some micro gold rushes, though the mining claims never panned out and more money was invested than was returned.

The last few hardy stragglers gradually died off or moved away, eventually selling their land to the US Forest Service. Now just a few working ranches remained, plus some occasional sportsmen “resorts” consisting of a few small cabins on special use permits. At the lower end of the river in Washington, small private lots still existed and occasional clumps of boat-only-access new weekend homes could even be found.

We came upon a few proposed dam sites, and even the open entrance of old Mountain Chief Mine (barred further inside, with openings large enough to let the bats get in and out). There were stories of large boats in the early 1900s that valiantly tried to make their way upstream, including powerful paddlewheeers. Some skillful captains with trust in their engines would bring in supplies and people, and take out ore and livestock. When a line got tangled or there was an engine problem, the boats generally ended up as driftwood. The most civilization we saw were the occasional jet boaters, clawing their way upstream through the heavy turbulence of rapids in specially designed boats. Then they disappeared quickly and the introspection of silence began again for long stretches.

Since we certainly didn’t have the space needs of these early homesteaders, campsites were plentiful along the way. Occasional sand bars and upper benches provided level tent sites with waterfront dining at the river’s edge. We only saw a few other rafters during our entire five days on the river, and we always had the pick of any site we wanted. Averaging 16 miles per day, the Snake’s steady flow allowed for casual mornings, nonchalant time on the river, and plenty of evening hanging out and fly fishing.

We mostly casted for smallmouth bass, though seeing the huge carp and salmon slowly sliding by our flies was tantalizing. Hidden in the river’s depths were also ancient sturgeon that grew up to ten feet long. Even in those arid expanses, life was everywhere and the constant flow of insect food caused many rises and back flips to be seen along the shores every evening.

That local life was not always for those squeamish of creepy crawlies. One evening, we were surrounded by about thirty black beetles, each two inches long, crawling over and around us. Another site had large spiders in the trees above our heads, and occasionally one would hoist itself down or else we would walk into a big web unknowingly. A snake slithered between all our feet when getting into the raft. The biggest toad any of us had ever seen was under my tent, fortunately found before it became the biggest blood stain any of had ever seen on my tent when I would have crushed it under me.

There were numerous birds flying about, including watchful falcons, noisy chukar pheasants running up the rocks, fish-finding motionless heron, merganser, ducks, killdeer, magpies, and more. Does and fawn deer were plentiful, and we saw a coyote too.

Days passed with a steady flow of successive rapids below the golden hills covered in crisp crackly dried grasses. We slid through the huge V of charcoal gray and dark brown cliffs created by millions of years of tectonics and erosion. This entire area was under the ocean at one time, and the cliffs were magma rock from an undersea volcano. The entire length of canyon was also bathtub-ringed with a 6 foot tall whitish gray residue that spanned above and parallel to the water surface, showing the tale of past high water levels.

Gradually the cliffs changed to the distinctive flat-sided geometric shafts of dark basaltic columns, rising from successive golden grass-covered hillside benches. Canyon walls would sometimes close in enough that the clank-splash of our rotating oars would echo off the rock walls.

At evening stops, a refreshing dunk and soapless scrub was always a special cooling treat, washing away the stark sun and drying heated breezes of the day. Kicking back on a beach in a fold-up chair, feet in the cooling water, and hand in a bag of cookies… Rafting goodness.

We pushed on far beyond the Pittsburgh Landing take-out that many people leave the river from. The lower portion had a totally undeserved reputation of not being as beautiful or interesting as the upper portions. Hogwash. It also had a reputation of being flat water and a slog of hard rowing without current. Hogwash again, though perhaps at lower volume that could be an issue. Headwinds were supposed to be a problem too, though for us the river current was more than enough to counteract the pleasant breezes. Hogwash three, all to our enjoyment.

The lowest stretches were a relaxing cruise through the canyon and steadily rounding hillsides, ending up at the Heller Bar boat ramp and the first road after 79 miles on the Snake River. Miss Manners came through: our cars were patiently waiting.

Among the fun things available there (either onsite or with associated vendors) is golf, swimming, bike/canoe/kayak rentals, horseback riding, spa, and ATV riding. The mountain biking and ATV riding beckoned me.

Mountain biking was fun: we first went “road biking with our mountain bikes”, travelling the manicured paved bike paths immediately around the main facilities and beyond to the historical cemetery of Roslyn. The cemetery was divided into about 27 different sections, each associated with a particular nationality or ethnic group. From there, we coasted downhill into the old mining town of Roslyn and had a drink at the local bar The Brick (established 1889). Our guide from Suncadia knew the crew at The Brick, and we were given a private tour of their dirty, cobweb-laden basement.  Why?  It has an old movie set of jail cells, seats and projector from an old movie theater, lots of very dusty antiques, and underground passages that were used during Prohibition to move booze and to also move men from the bar to a neighboring brothel and back.

We then asked if there was any singletrack, and there was some available.  By going down into the valley below the Lodge at Suncadia, where the Cle Elum River cuts through, there were gravel roads that connected into forested singletrack trails.  Fairly gentle throughout, with the occasional down tree limb to jump or section of baby head rocks to scramble through.  And the views ending up at the Cle Elum River were pleasant rest spots on several occasions.

The next day, the Suncadia shuttle bus took us away from Suncadia about a half hour drive into an outlying area around the town of Cle Elum.  We met up with Guy from Adventure Motorsports and his waiting lineup of 4 wheel ATVs (All Terrain Vehicles).  He unlocked the gate to a long series of roads on public land which required a permit to ride on, and we were out for a few hours of tire sliding and getting air over whoop de doos. The trail was very dry and dusty, and sometimes visibility was obscured from the dust kicked up by ATVs in front, but fortunately the wind was blowing and that helped move it out away from the trail.  Views included the Stuart Range and surrounding foothills, with most of the trails through pine forest.  One of our group dropped his ATV 40 feet down an embankment, but Guy was able to get it out by going lower and driving it back up through a forest elsewhere.  Otherwise just revvin’ fun.

Mountain biking above the Cle Elum River by Suncadia Resort

Stuart Range view from Cle Elum gravel roads riding ATVs

Cle Elum ATV riding gravel road trails with Stuart Range view

Views and ecosystems vary from upland forests to lowland cattail marshes and protected wetlands, with many birds audible and visible. The area was previously logged and farmed by settlers over a hundred years ago, and remnants of that era still exist in the way the area looks today.

There are several access points along the trail, and it is well suited for walking, running, bicycling, and even horseback riding on a separate parallel dirt path.

Soos Creek Trail through forest

Soos Creek Trail with 6 miles of paved rural path

Long concrete bridge to protect wetlands below

The best way to put in was at the Washington Department of Fish and Wildlife’s Big Eddy river access / boat launch located on the east side of Gold Bar at National Forest road 6021. Big Eddy had lots of parking and a gentle slope down to a calm eddy in the river. Downstream from there the river didn’t come close to the in-between town of Startup, so the next public car access spot was in Sultan. The take-out was also a WDFW landing called Sportsman’s Park, located immediately to the west side of the town’s only bridge along highway 2. Car shuttle distance between the two points was only 9 miles, so it was a convenient setup all around.

Rafting the forest lined shores of the Skykomish River

Looking ahead to see what rapids are coming up

Skykomish River views of Cascade Mountains and foothills

Watching the shore and forest drift by

At the oars

Enjoying the float

Each class begins with stretches and exercises, followed by instruction on particular moves and tricks appropriate for your experience and comfort levels. Then it’s a revolving stream of a small group of students climbing up a 30 foot ladder to a platform and jumping off into space hoping for the best. The coaches provide safety lines and yell instructions at each step, so there is a figurative safety net as well as the literal one.

The experience is especially interesting since timing is important and it keeps the personal focus level high, plus each step in a series of moves needs to be remembered and instantly done. It’s definitely easier reciting it in your head on the ground than when actually hanging upside down listening for commands, but that’s what makes the “flying time” all the better.

School of Acrobatics and New Cirucs Arts training and performance tent

Grabbing trapeze bar and preparing to launch from platform

Upside down knee-hang from trapeze bar

Synchronizing swings with a SANCA instructor on another trapeze bar

Hanging under swinging trapeze to prepare for next trick

Back flip into air off the trapeze bar

Practicing stretch and hand positions for mid-air catch

Practicing a mid-air catch fully in motion, with SANCA coach on left

This we needed to see. So we looked around to find a very non-ADA ramp that went down and around into the basement, past construction debris and a bare light bulb hanging from the ceiling. The friendly guy jumped up in surprise to see someone actually come down into his hole. The poodle yipped but then got all tail waggy as well.

We were regaled with a half hour of history on China, Mao’s decimation of artisans, and the last few remaining master craftsmen cabinetmakers in China. They were only 20 of these cabinets made, one of which stood right in front of us, and they could be yours for the bargain price of $12,000. That price actually seemed right for the quality, detailed hand-labored metalwork, and finely aligned pieces, but the guy’s presentation wasn’t particularly high end to match.

He meant very well, but he told as much about what he didn’t know as what he did know, and he stumbled when it came to discussing the high price point. The ratty sweatshirt and dank surroundings didn’t exude “high end” either, but then again this was Capitol Hill and that all likely added to its allure for fancy folks with extra cash. He made up for it all in enthusiasm and earnestness.

After rising to the twilight above, we stopped in at the Vermillion artist’s gallery & wine bar which was setting up for a “closing reception”. The lady artist from Port Townsend was a delight, telling us stories about her beach trash paintings. My friends and I actually liked them all; they were fun, whimsical, and made little objects seem impressively big through perspective. On top of her other talents, she got out her fiddle to jam with the wine bar owner.

Food beckoned after all that wandering.  A varied selection of good Japanese food at Boom Noodle, served to us at long family style tables with other eaters, was followed by handmade High 5 Pie (complete with waiting line)… We had pie on a stick (lollipop style), vegan pie, and classic almond cherry al a mode. Something for everyone.

After marvelling at some post-punk alter-ego fashion statements walking around the neighborhood, the night was capped off with window shopping. We had a revelation finding out that 1970s garage sale junk lamps and wall hangings from our very own personal family histories were now selling for hundreds of bucks as retro cool stuff. And yet that was to be expected here.

Most of Rattlesnake Mountain Scenic Area is owned and managed by both the Washington State Department of Natural Resources and the King County Park and Recreation Department. The trail continues past Stan’s Viewpoint – for about 13 miles one way – to near Rattlesnake Lake and I-90 exit 32.

Logistics: Drive I-90 to exit 27 and head south 1/4 mile to the road’s end at a parking area with the trailhead and a latrine.

Rattlesnake Ridge trail

Stan's Viewpoint on Rattlesnake Ridge near North Bend. There's a terrific view on clear days...

All of the trails were interconnected loops within loops, so you could choose your distances or go for laps. A few spots briefly intersected with snowmobile trails, but then they quickly diverged for some quiet and fresh air again. Trails were primarily in forests without distant views, although it did pass by a frozen pond and there were great views nearby at Keechelus Lake.

Logistics: Crystal Springs was about 9 miles east of the Summit at Snoqualmie Pass on I-90, taking exit 62 and going toward Crystal Springs on the southwest side of I-90 for about 3/4 mile to the large parking lot. There was a sign there pointing to the cross-country ski trails, which was a different entry point than for the snowmobiles and dog sleds. A Sno-Park permit was required to be displayed in your vehicle at the parking lot.

Crystal Springs ice-covered pond

Crystal Springs Sno-Park groomed cross-country skiing trails

One of the band members is a graphic designer (and nice guy), and he asked to use one of my photos (from my vacation to the Big Island of Hawaii) for their album cover:

Blaas of Glory's Highway To Hell album cover

Blaas of Glory's Highway To Hell album back cover

My original photo from Mamalahoa Highway on Hawaii

Blaas of Glory heavy metal marching band

Lake Wenatchee State Park provided an extensive network of groomed trails, in both the Lake Wenatchee North and Lake Wenatchee South sections. The north section wandered through forest until opening up to an atmospheric view down the length of the lake, and then followed the shore for a while before heading upwards and back into the forest, all making for a nice loop experience. There was only one steep section, the rest was gradual, and all was scenic.

The south section has an even more intertwined circuit of loops within loops, both groomed and ungroomed. The trails also end up at the lake and go along the Wenatchee River for variety. There was supposedly a sledding hill there too, but if it existed it sure was well hidden.

Snow covered shore of Lake Wenatchee

Cross-country skiing by Lake Wenatchee

Misty fog from banks of Wenatchee River

Cross-country skiing on Lake Wenatchee State Park trails

Local lore says that the tree was started as a joke in the 1970s, and in 1989 a local resident really took off with it and added shoe upon boot upon sandal. There is a bag of nails and a rusty hammer there too, waiting for any passerby who wants to contribute.

The Shoe Tree of Holberg Road

The Shoe Tree is spreading across Vancouver Island...

Click here to see the 7 minute documentary. The video player below just starts a brief preview.

Watch more free documentaries