Another trip to the Death Valley area, yehaw!  I'm headed south to look for petroglyphs and pictographs, hoping to find the desert in bloom after a good amount of winter rainfall.

Coming from the north, Devo and I camped late Thursday night near Bishop. We'd hoped to camp farther north, but the deep snow limited our options.  I'm completely comfortable in pretty severe conditions in my 4-Runner, but I had to sympathize with Devo in his 1-person tent.  We ended up camping down in a frozen depression immediately adjacent to the Owens River.  I slept terribly, due to collapsing into the back of the truck as soon as we parked, without proper preparations.  Amazing how one can forget the little details of cold-weather camping, like keeping the next days' clothes, water bottle, and camera inside your sleeping bag.

2/4/05

Good thing I brought extra batteries, because my camera batteries died after only a couple photos.  Did I mention it was a bit chilly?  One surprise was finding a warm guzzler down there, although it wasn't warm enough for soaking. Hell, the river was steaming upstream of the guzzler, THAT'S how cold it was.

Breakfast was at the Bishop Airport (infamous for Hantavirus), where some rowdy So. Cal ski bums peed all over the bathroom. The Owens Valley locals must have a serious love/hate relationship with that crowd.  The airport restaraunt is a bit cheaper than the tourist traps in town, and the view mesmorizes me until the food suddenly appears in front of me.  Devo bought me steak and eggs, not my typical breakfast fare, but I figured the protein dose would be needed in the days ahead.  It turned out to be a good choice, with the leftovers serving for a steak sandwich at dinner.

We then drove to a cave site I'd visited once before, located just east of Bishop. My last visit was spur-of-the-moment, solo, late at night with no gear and a serious buzz.  I knew nothing about these holes other than that the topo showed a series of caves intermixed with mine prospects. I crawled down about a half dozen this time, of which several turned out to be mine related and the rest quickly dead-ended. They appear to be old granitic blocks, covered with alluvial fill, but I don't claim to be very knowledgable of geology. Perhaps at one time they were nicer, with gypsum/calcite formations, but the miners blasted them to hell? The one hole I didn't go into was shaped like a funnel, with a 10' drop at the bottom into the unknown, and everytime the wind blew more loose sand slid down into it. I felt like I was dropping into a giant ant lion trap, so after about 5 pounds of sand went down my back I aborted. I still had Devo take a picture of me entering the hole, so he accused me of being a Poser.

Next we headed south and east into the northern part of Death Valley National Park. Recent storms have reportedly washed out a number of roads, but local signage does tend to exaggerate things.  Our first goal was a mine high above Eureka Valley, from which we would gain a huge view of Eureka Valley and environs.  This detour off-pavement ended when I got sick of bouncing around a rocky ravine, with the road appearing to get even worse ahead; there were no other tire tracks on this "road."  Too early in the trip for rock crawling, I'd be pretty pissed off if I broke my truck on the first day of the trip.  Our second foray off the pavement ended at another mine well below our ridgeline goal.  We didn't obtain the hoped for view, but the mine itself was interesting, with a bottomless shaft wide enough to lose a car in and lots of sparkling green rocks.  Devo is colorblind, something I forgot, but remembered after pointing out all the beautiful green rocks and getting little response.

We continued on through the valley, stopping at a canyon a coworker once told me was rumored to be a Native American trade route. Someone else mentioned finding a single bighorn sheep petroglypyh. I've driven by it many times, never realizing what it held. Sure enough, less than 5 minutes' searching revealed about a dozen different panels of petroglyphs, quite a nice site.  Obsidian beads also litter the area, making steady walking difficult for obsessive-compulsive types.  Being of that nature, I can easily lose time in viewing the swirls of color hidden within some of those beads.  Fascinating patterns.

Continuing on, our trip eventually brought us by Marble Tub, where I left some more blue marbles and a rubber ducky.  Later in this trip we'll look for the "real" Marble Tub, which conventional wisdom holds doesn't exist.  But what the heck is that spot marked on the topo?!  Did someone blast it apart looking for minerals?  I'm thinking it's a natural catch basin.

We made it to camp after sunset, just in time to enjoy the bat show at the local spring. My spotlight later revealed a kit fox and several kangaroo rats.  Between us, Devo and I must have taken around 50 pictures of the bats in action, but didn't get any good shots.  The night was quiet, except for jets up high on their way into Sacramento.  How many times have I been on those planes, looking down at terrain I love, envying those whom are there?

2/5/05

We're camped on the morning-shade side of the valley, which helps Devo sleep in.  I woke up before dawn, so I went on a long circular hike around camp.  I've made some great discoveries during this morning constitutional.  As I walked, the sun finally hit the tops of the Inyos, turning their dull grey slopes pink, then reflecting directly off them with a dazzling golden intensity.  During this walk I found more interesting rocks (an old coral reef? petrified wood?) and several stone structures, composed of 3' high rock walls, no ceiling. Seems like there's a lot of piles of stone out there, but who made them? Native Americans? More recent desert rats? I also found puddles of water in more than one gully, some greenery appearing, but no flowers yet.

We headed back the way we'd come, driving down a short dead-end at random, then stopped and walked up a ridgeline towards a likely-looking petroglyph site. No petroglyphs, just a good workout and a fine view, but upon returning to my truck we found a couple strange rock outcroppings which appeared to be petrified trees or some kind of circular fossil. Whatever, they were mixed into a greyish rock with chunks of obsidian. Bizarre.

Our next goal was a mysterious canyon I've been trying to find easy access to for several years. The entrance looks like classic Utah redrock slot canyon. Someone I shared some shade with years ago also mentioned that pictographs could be found in the area. We eventually found a gully headed the correct direction, complete with truck and motorcycle tracks, so headed that way. After a short time, I suspected we weren't on a road, but had been suckered into following some idiots' offroad tracks. We got out to scout, etc., and almost immediately I heard a car engine. Keep in mind that we hadn't seen anyone since leaving Big Pine, the day before, and were currently up a random gully off a little-used road. Sure enough, an old red pickup appeared, descending the gravel bank above us. The driver and I looked at each other, I waved, he ignored me and turned his truck around and continued back up the ridge. We returned to the main road, and 5 minutes later found the correct path. This took us up another gully directly to our goal, which turned out to be an amazing place, one of those spots which can make even a rabid dog feel a bit humble.

Multi-colored cliffs towered above us at the canyon entrance, layer upon layer of abstract, LSD geology. Thousands of holes pock the walls, some big enough to be habitable. Lower elevations may be starting to bloom, but the snow from this winter's storms rests deep in there still, with icicles in the wetter areas. Perfectly dry, cold, powder snow, if only we'd had skis!  We spent 4 hours wandering the canyons of the area, finding petroglyphs, red/orange pictographs, an aluminum ladder (hidden, maybe so someone less able could climb the tough spots?), real trees (Junipers) and views to forever. Words can't adequately describe.  It's one of those spots where you keep turning corners and saying, "cool!"  We hiked apart for most of the way, which is fine by my solo spirit.

Where to camp tonight? Feeling pretty psyched after the day's discoveries, I didn't mind driving a bit, so decided to look for a hot spring in Nevada. Speeding north across the washboard, we raced the sun towards camp, successfully avoiding a large number of jackrabbits. It was completely dark as we entered Cucamonga Canyon, passing by the "Dang! Washout" sign from a flood of several years back. I told my friend to expect a 1/4 mile detour, but it appears recent storms have washed things out quite a bit more. Imagine a pitch-black night (no moon, some clouds), driving through a wash with gravel walls 10' to 40' high, sometimes just wide enough for your truck. We had to break through a narrow gravel berm at one point, obviously the first people driving here since the floods. The sand was wet in places, making me wonder about quicksand. Every once in a while we'd spot a portion of the road climbing out of the wash, but every attempt to follow it ended in washout and turning around; the gully was the only route possible. This went on forever, until finally we met tracks where someone from the north had turned around. These led us through the maze for what seemed like another mile until we climbed out of the wash one final time and found solid (albeit rock-strewn) road.

We hit the Esmerelda Store low on gas and found the gas pumps to be closed. Continuing north, we wasted more miles looking for an obscure dirt turnoff from the main highway, but finally found it and arrived at the hot spring on fumes (good thing for the 5 spare gallons I carried). Clouds had completely covered the sky by this point, and a freezing wind ripped across the flats. Even in the dark we could tell that all the hills surrounding us were covered in snow.

Some dork was camped immediately adjacent to the spring itself, pulling a big trailer with an equally large truck. We found a spot out of site nearby, somewhat sheltered from the gale. Our camp setup is quick on warm nights; on that night we kept it even simpler. And then, as we're eating, our neighbor started up his truck and drove slowly around the road that circled the area, finally pulling directly into our campsite! Weird behavior, that had me moving for my own spotlight. But just as quickly as he had spotlighted us, he backed up and returned to his own campsite. Whatever.  Made me feel like cranking my tunes and having a generally loud good time.  But we were polite (must have been exhaustion and the tranquility of the area) and kept our voices down.

 The hot spring quickly made it all worth while, floating under the stars in a sensory-deprived state with just my nose and eyes exposed to the cold. Lightweight that I am, one beer, hot water, and exhaustion did a pretty fine job on me. The back of my 4Runner is a cocoon of down sleeping bag, down pillows, down parka, and other blankets. I open the windows and let the wind through, no stargazing tonight as I achieve comatose sleep.

2/6/05

I wake before dawn again, hoping to get some good photos of sunrise on the White Mountains. The weather ruins that plan, with solid cloud cover, fog in some of the canyons, even a thick ground haze. All is grey and white, barren, but most great desert areas fit that description, eh? I may have to return to check out those distant canyons....

This hot spring has a shower area. I may be getting soft, because I really did enjoy using shampoo. Our neighbors drove by as we were packing up, but they looked straight ahead and didn't see us wave, I guess. Devo is a better person than me, so he visited their campsite and cleaned up the various bits of garbage they had left behind.  About then I found one of my tires to be down to 12psi, so had to use my cheapy air compressor. We finally moved on, detouring out of our way about 20 miles total to get gas. Tire hadn't lost any air, so we got beer and fireworks and continued on. I promised my children I'd bring them back a treat, what better than a brick of bottle rockets? (Attention ATF and CPS: the preceeding was a joke.)

Road fatigue is starting to set in, and we're on the wrong side of the White Mountains.  Scanning the map reveals no direct way through Nevada to Highway 395, but instead only lots of big loops out of the way through such dusty fart towns as Tonopah.  (Oops, a bit harsh, sorry.  I'm sure Tonopah does have some interesting sights.)   I decide to head north and west over Montgomery Pass, still a big detour.  Passing through Benton for the first time during the day, I marvel at the large number of auto wrecking yards, then just south of town find the grand daddy of them all.  How do so many wrecks accumulate in one out-of-the-way area? 

Later found us in the White Mountains north of Bishop, where I wanted to look for another cave shown on the topos. Along the way we found the local Chalfant Valley party spot, complete with brass casings and condoms.

This "cave" too, turns out to have been a mislabled mine, or perhaps the cave was blasted out by miners? A big gas engine with winch and cable attached led down a straight, 150' tunnel. Interesting rocks, including quartz crystals, but no cave.  As we walked around the hillside, the morning's overcast turned into a genuine storm, with thundershowers visibly kicking up dust on the valley floor closer to Bishop. Strong winds brought the smell of rain, but no drops. The sun set behind the Sierras as we sped back down the alluvial fan, returning to civilization.

My friend was whining about camping in a cold area again, and I prefer to drive at night since I've seen most of the intervening country, so I decided to drive home. I tried to take the scenic route along the Owens Gorge, making a couple stops along the way to view the Gorge and its Lovecraftian columnar formations.  Close to the top, within spitting distance of Highway 395, the road ended in a snow bank. An alternate road descended through a big crack in the tuff, then unexpectedly ended at the largest pipe I've ever seen in my life, apparently part of the LA Aquaduct (but it was a cool pipe, really). We had to drive all the way back down the gorge road, hang a u-turn, then head up the Sherwin Grade again, total "shortcut" of about 90 minutes extra time.

There appeared to be a lot of erratic drivers on the road, fugitives, I suspect, from Super Bowl parties. I saw surprisingly few police on my drive home, making great time despite somewhat heavy snowfall on Echo summit (westbound traffic was closed, we just beat the storm). I actually let people pass me when I'm in the snow; I'm no fool.  Total time from Toms Place to Auburn was five hours.

Bodie's Home

Trip Reports - Tea Kettle Junction - Random Photos - Rants - Camping Tips - Site Notes - Links

Comments?

revised 2/26/05