Hiking the Ouzoud Canyon

After swimming in the pool and jumping off the rock we headed down the canyon to explore.  The river continued to cascade down the valley.  The banks were foliated with bamboo and oleanders.  The hills were forested with scrub oak and juniper.  Occasionally we would encounter clusters of a cactus that I had not seem before.

Along the river there were signs of rock wall terraced crops, mostly abandon, built possibly centuries ago.  There were some crops on the hillside, tended by families living along the river without power or running water in the makeshift homes they lived in.  The fields, five foot strips of land, were irrigated from the mesa above via little trenches barely a shovel blade deep and wide.  I recognized, tomatoes, peppers, squash and corn.  Justin and I followed one irrigation ditch over and around the hills till it headed up towards the rim in a side canyon.  People along the way invited us in to tea, Moroccan hospitality.  We came across a well built stone house and very nice grounds.  The proprietor had sodas cooling in a basket under a small water fall for sale.  We said we would stop for one on the way back.  

The river emptied into a bigger canyon through a turbulent chute.  There are caves at the confluence with signs of Berber sheperds having lived there in the past. There were natives fishing and swimming in the river.  We asaw turtles and frogs but no fish.  The water was mostly muddy like the Colorado.  

This stretch of canyon and river so reminded me of the desert SW in the US that I am so fond of, it made me homesick.  The Todra Gorge canyon was nice but not like Canyonlands.  The only thing this area is lacking is the petroglyphs, pictographs and cliff dwellings and I could be in hiking heaven.

 See the guy contemplating jumping into the river?  He did not jump.

Me on the far bank after a dip in the river.

The walk back up the river was awesome and I recommend this trip to everyone who likes canyons and waterfalls.  Back at the Rasta camp for the night the crew cooked us Tajine, started a bonfire and played Reggae on the drums and guitar.  One of the proprietors had a Jamaican mother and Moroccan father.  Seems like everywhere you go in the world a Rasta establishment pops up.  

 Get a tan old man.

Well back to Midelt to plan my next trip and work with my coops.  I really do work hard.  I just do not like that as much as adventuring.  Guess I should let you know what I am working on.  That is for another blog.