Trudging about on the clinking cobble of tuff.
A well engineered cow trail curves through the greening bunch grass that grows on the northeast slope. We follow it.
A black cow lies several days dead in a shallow ravine. Creosote bush grows as far as the eye can see. We look for bits of pots, or flakes of quartz at our feet, but find none. On the very few suitable boulders we see, we hope, in vain, to find petroglyphs.
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