The Fiery Furnace is a natural labyrinth
of narrow passages between towering sandstone walls.
This is the National Park Service's description of this red sandstone maze of fins, arches, boulders, washes and slickrock slabs, which looks innocent enough when you enter it:
Christian, the NPS ranger who led our hike, warned us that this would be a complex environment and a challenging hike, not simply a photo opportunity, and that we should tune our senses to our movement and the geology, flora and fauna around us, being careful where we stepped - not only for our own safety but also for the survival of the life all around us. In the photo below, Christian is helping our group discover the mysteries of desert packrat middens, and the unlikely manner in which packrats have helped preserve plants and other materials for archaeological dating:
The Fiery Furnace isn't named for its unusual heat, but rather for the red sandstone formations that make it up. From above, Google Maps shows it as a very unusual formation, formed by the force of salt domes and the erosion of wind and rain. Rather than erupting above the surrounding plain, it is carved into the earth:
We were surprised by the number of arches in the Fiery Furnace. One was a pothole arch, which was a large hole penetrating a slickrock sandstone slab:
This gorgeous arch graced the walls of a canyon:
We eagerly followed Christian as we descended into this "other world" formed in the sandstone:
It would be easy to get lost in the slot canyons and the twisting washes, which is one of the reasons the National Park Service limits access to the Fiery Furnace. You must either reserve a place on a ranger-led hike, or obtain a permit for a limited number of people to take a self-guided hike. Here, Kathy heads into a slot canyon, not sure what she will find on the other side:
The mysteries Christian revealed were not only geological, but also biological. He pointed out that, with recent storms, potholes in the canyons are holding standing water, and the moisture is trapped long enough to permit fairy shrimp to hatch and thrive long enough to reproduce and lay their eggs, which can survive long dry spells before hatching again when conditions are wet enough. As Kathy passed the pothole in the photo below, she was wondering how many fairy shrimp might be living out their life cycle before her:
Falling rainwater and flowing runoff can also create ripple and wave patterns in the sand. Sometimes, these patterns outlast the water and can be found in the dried, crusty sand along the bottoms of the canyons:
As Christian described the life that can thrive in potholes, the winds that blew through the canyon whipped in a spiral motion at the cave-end and produced a small waterspout or dust devil, that blew the water into a beautiful spiral pattern before our eyes. Unfortunately, we couldn't get the camera out fast enough to film that wind-whipped water effect.
Everywhere we turned, there were new variations on familiar Arches themes. Here is a beautiful double arch that appeared above our heads:
We continued threkking through the beds of the canyons, marvelling at the height and slender beauty of the eroding fins above our heads:
Periodically climbing out of the slot canyons, we consorted with hoodoos, needles and spires, which seemed to be spiritual presences monitoring our respectful passage through their domain:
Occasionally, we needed to navigate our way across, or along, dangerous crevices. Here, Kathy demonstrates the proper method of approaching a slickrock descent into a boulder-filled crevasse:
Again, another arch surprise:
Christian helped us understand the differences between arches, windows and bridges.
CLIFF WALL ARCHES appear on the side of or adjacent to rock walls or cliffs, and generally are not considered arches, but openings:
FREE-STANDING ARCHES are the most obvious kind of arch: standing alone, independent of other rock walls or fins, proudly spanning an easily visible light opening. A few arches of this type have been called "WINDOWS" for the scenic views they frame, but "WINDOW" does not describe a particular type of arch. A POTHOLE ARCH forms when a pothole, or small depression, on top of a rock slab penetrates to the underside face. A NATURAL BRIDGE is distinguished from other types of arches because of its location astride a stream or stream channel. There are only a handful of known natural bridges at Arches, including "Walk Through Bridge" in the Fiery Furnace:
-- and, yes, we got to walk through "Walk Through Bridge."
But the arches weren't the only stars of the show. Many free-standing arches are formed from erosion of fins, created by salt-heaving under sandstone which then partially erodes until a hole, or arch, appears in its side. Here is a dramatic example of a sandstone fin in its raw form:
Here is a dramatic arch formed from a huge fin that rose above us as we hiked:
Some few arches open vertically. As we sat, listening to Christian discuss the Fiery Furnace and authors' views of wilderness and preservation, Kathy looked up in surprise to see a dramatic arch over David's head. She asked Christian the name of the arch, and he said, naturally, "Surprise Arch!" You can see the location of Surprise Arch in the Google Maps satellite view of Fiery Furnace earlier in this blog entry:
Some openings are not arches. This opening toward which we hiked was formed when an eroded rock fell and leaned against an adjoining fin:
Climbing back to the surface as we neared the end of our hike, we found ourselves on surreal, rounded sandstone slabs:
We clambered across the rounded slabs and around a cliff before climbing further up toward our trailhead:
Having said our goodbyes and given our thanks to Christian, we headed out by Jeep on the second part of our adventure, which was a back road through the north end of Arches National Park, across wild BLM land toward Thompson Springs. Dusty proudly flew his freak flag at the park border:
As we drove, we got a parting view of the striking Klondike Mountains, where we had hiked the other day to Tower Arch:
Our road took us across a wind-swept plateau, graced as in a watercolor with broad sweeps of lime-green grasses, creamy white sandstone hills, and light red-tan sandstone sliffs:
Over the ridge, the vista was equally diverting:
Driving across the last plateau toward our campground, Kathy spotted a herd of pronghorn antelope, who were kind enough to let us snap a few photos of them before they moved off cautiously. Here is the buck of the herd --
-- and, here, part of his harem moves away with him from the noise of our Jeep:
While this was not a long hiking day, it was filled with exploration of parts of Arches National Park that most people do not see. We only have another day or two here, and we have to decide how best to use our time.
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