When I was a little boy
And the devil would call my name
I say, now who do
Who do you think you’re foolin’
—Loves Me Like A Rock, Paul Simon
Hoodoos are particularly cute rock formations. They can be part of a cliff bluff or stand alone towers. Either way, they consist of a stack of boulder, mud and clay, boulder, mud and clay, boulder, etc. This Dagwood sandwich forms all sorts of imaginable characters.
I had read about the hoodoos at the Recapture Pocket back home when I had all my maps laid out on the dinning room table. This is an obscure, difficult to find, well out of the way of tourists, place to wander and climb hoodoos to your hearts content. It did prove to be difficult to find. Following a network of piss-poor gravel roads, none of them with any signage, we finally drove over a ridge to look into a mile wide basin ringed with ledges of hoodoos.
On my Benchmark atlas and on Google Maps, these cow paths were numbered - 216, 217, 249 and the like. Both sources roughly corresponded, although not perfectly. As I stated, we did find the illusive buggers.
From a distance and at a glance, they didn’t look like much. But hiking around them and climbing over them, they turned into a delightful group of friends. The dark maroon colors and the sandwiched nature of the formations made each hoodoo distinctly unique and different from each other.
We owned the place. No one else was around for miles. I should have gotten the drone out, but we had gotten a bit of a late start and we were ultimately heading for Hovenweep National Monument, a good ways away. Still, we spent well over an hour admiring our new friends and enjoying our solitude.
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