A side trip home - to 3/4/26

I'm not sure where I heard about it or perhaps I read something in a magazine, e.g., AARP, but since we were already "in the neighborhood," why not stop by?  I'm referring to Trona Pinnacles, a "unique geological feature" located about 170 miles north of Desert Hot Springs and 28 miles east of Ridgecrest in the Mojave Desert.  While we've been all around this area, we'd never been to Trona or Ridgecrest.  Because it's BLM land, dispersed camping is allowed and I thought it would be grand to camp below one of those tufa spires.

We found it easily.  At the entry, a sign read that the 5-mile-long dirt/gravel road is generally accessible to passenger vehicles (if you're willing to drive on a washboard), but after a rain, the road may be impassable, even to four-wheel drive vehicles.  Rain had fallen two weeks earlier; we figured we were safe. 

With Smartie in tow, Tergel started down what used to be a dirt road, transformed into a dried mud (like cement) track, with deep, irregular ruts.  We made it possibly a quarter mile before crying Uncle!  Then we had to turn around and make our way back toward the entrance.  Truly, that was an awful experience for Tergel, Smartie and us.  Nearer the entrance we found level ground and, since camping was allowed, we decided to stay where we were.  Too bad we were still five miles away from the pinnacles.  And we said, ain't no way we're walking that far!  Well, at least we could see them.  

Tergel sits all by herself with the pinnacles in the distance and train cars parked on a siding.  (Can you see her?) We'd taken Smartie for a spin so we could check out the ghost town of Trona.  Not much to see there.  The town is still functioning, but only barely.  A huge chemical complex closed down years ago, and we all know what happens then.  A new outfit is pulling sodium and potassium minerals out of Searles dry lake, but Trona is floundering.

This train was moving toward Trona (at a snail's pace),

going to pick up some raw material?  Flashy cars.

We went for a walk to the siding with the rail cars,

looking, examining, supposing ....

Toward dusk, I climbed a ridge behind Tergel and found a treasure trove of wildflowers.  The bottom two are Brown-eyed Primrose and Desert Five-Spot.

I took this picture of the pinnacles from atop the ridge.  Isn't it fantastic?  I'm glad we stopped here even if we couldn't get any closer.

In 2016, the BLM designated Trona Pinnacles as part of the California Desert National Conservation Lands due to the area’s significant scientific and ecological values; this means that the area will be managed to protect those values and will be permanently protected from development.  Good.  (They could work on that road, however!)

This pic is from Wiki.  As you see, people were closer to the spires.

There's Tergel/Smartie (and my shadow where I stood on the ridge).  Being camped here was extra-special, and with no one else around the silence was pervasive and so welcome.  Aside from the pinnacles, the area isn't particularly scenic, but we appreciated both the vastness and the tiny wildflowers at our feet.  I didn't fret that we couldn't camp at the base of a monolith tufa, nope.  Just happy.  Period.

And the sky!  We saw the breath-taking full moon rise above yonder mountain -- what a sight!  We didn't expect this which made it even better.  For sure, we wouldn't see many stars nor the Milky Way, not with the super bright moon filling the sky.  Alone as we were, there wasn't any need to close our windshield curtains.  We watched the moon climb in the sky.  I got up once in the night to look around, and it was like daylight out there.  So quiet.

The next morning was cool and sunny, blue skies all 'round.  Whoa, I looked out our dinette window and saw this black smoke.  We didn't hear anything, but China Lake Naval Weapons Station is beyond the hills.  The smoke continued and spread eastward in the sky.  It looked like a plane had crashed, but, like I said, we heard nothing.  Just about the time you think you're alone in the world, bang, a reminder you're not.

We left the site after breakfast, heading for Tehachapi (the -ugh- wind tunnel) and eventually I-5.  It didn't take us long to reach Hwy 58, the road to Tehachapi.  Meanwhile, we were treated to mountains and flats blanketed with blooms, the yellow you see on the peak above.

And here!

Yellows and purples and masses of white,

but hard to get a great photo at 60mph!

I'd also hoped to stop at Red Rock Canyon, but the entrance came upon us too quickly and we missed the turn in.  Nowhere to turn around!  Well, okay, two for two: we came, we saw, we almost conquered!

From the road, the place looked stupendous.  Maybe next time.

We moved on, with a headwind in our face, through Tehachapi, down to Bakersfield and on to the Baker Museum in Coalinga, a Harvest Host site we used a couple of years ago.  After a delicious meal at Los Reyes Mexican Grill, we enjoyed a peaceful night at the museum.  No dinosaurs disturbed us.  We shared our site with one other camper, a lady from Oregon named Eileen.  Always lovely to meet fellow travelers, especially when they become friends!

On toward home the next morning, we endured a vicious headwind, the kind where you feel like you may as well simply pour gasoline straight onto the road. ** sigh **.  We made it home late Thursday afternoon in one piece, glad to see the homestead still standing, having sustained no damage from the snowstorm.  

Five weeks away, loved it all.

Stovepipe Wells, Sunday, 3/28/21

 

We're on an easterly track now, toward Florida, which is a very long way from here.  Looks like we won't make much headway today, driving from Alabama Hills to Stovepipe Wells -- only 86 miles!  The road stretched before us, a long yellow-striped slash in the sage that vanished into distant mountains.

Death Valley is a place we wanted to see again.  Though we've never stopped in Stovepipe Wells, we did dry camp in Furnace Creek in 2010.  This year, we hoped to snag one of the few electric sites at SW, but (after pulling into one) we discovered those sites are reservable and, in fact, had been reserved for as long ago as a year.  Phooey.  OK, we turned around and got a dry site on their 190-site "rustic campground" tarmac.  No A/C for us.  The temp peaked in the 80's, not too bad, but Tergel heats up quickly when it's parked on asphalt with no shade.  We managed, and the desert cools at night.  And it was only seven bucks with the Old Farts pass.

The two shots, above and below, were taken at Padre Crowley Point Overlook (the Desert Padre) -- a  vista point that presents a stunning view into colorfully-streaked Rainbow Canyon.  It also offers a glimpse of the valley beyond.  Wow!  The views!

Rainbow Canyon

I added this pic, to show our road snaking down the mountain,

from left to right, down-down we went.  See?

We basically had an entire day ahead of us to go exploring or hiking.  We'd passed Emigrant Canyon Road on our way to SW.  We decided to drive back to it and then see what we could find.  Some of the rock formations along the drive were so bizarre.

This one had an interesting-looking cave that we passed by, and we wanted to check into on our return ... and then couldn't find it!

Desert Dreams!  A guy named Roy Journigan acquired this site shortly after passage of the 1934 Gold Reserve Act caused the price of gold to jump from $20 to $35 an ounce.  His strategy was to operate a custom mill for local mines.  By acquiring water rights to four local springs to the southwest and piping water to the mill, he increased the mill's capacity and his profit margin.  He sold the mill in 1939 and it continued to operate under different owners till 1960.  The scattered remnants of Journigan's mill pay homage to the ingenuity needed to succeed in remote desert areas.  Some might say insanity!

Lots of remnants, some not identifiable.  Bottom left is the flooring for a house, and bottom right is li'l Smartie at the foot of the hill.

Next we drove a short distance on a dirt road to the Eureka Mine.  We had a blast exploring this place.  And we were the only folks around.  

We didn't go in far, not sure how safe it might be.  Also, we talk about keeping a flashlight in Smartie, yet can't remember to put one in the glove box.

Cashier Mill

We climbed all over this mine/mill.  And then on the other side of the hill we found more.

It was lots of fun exploring the entire area.

Aguereberry Camp, now a ghost town.  There's gold in them thar hills, and old-time prospector, Shorty Harris, and his greenhorn partner, Pete Aguereberry, discovered it in 1905.  Their discovery triggered a short-lived mining boom.  Of all the miners who toiled here, only Pete persisted, till his death in 1945.  What's left of his house still stands at the west edge of the ridge base. 

No way.  Not today!

Ah ha!  All it needs is a little work and voilà!

New wheels!

The adits came next.  They were barred, as you see, but we could look between the bars.  Lots of stuff 'n junk, all of it pertaining to mining.

We made our way back down to Smartie and continued on Emigrant Canyon Rd, spotting so many places we would've liked a closer look at, but ... time, you know?  The road is 21 miles long, and has a steep haul up to Emigrant Pass (5318'), and down to Wildrose Canyon Rd.  We turned around at that point.  A small c/g is available at Wildrose and as steep as the road is both coming and going from each direction, we saw two bicyclists with camping gear grinding up, aiming for the c/g.  Yikes!

The thing about a place like Death Valley is it covers soooo much territory, most of it unnavigable, especially for Smartie.  Sometimes I wish we had a jeep.  This place is named for death, yet it has its own wide-open beauty.  The lure of adventure and sweeping space, which we enjoyed on our explores today, can really be found here.  And if silence is the absence of noise, then heaven exists in Death Valley.  Just don't come in summer.

Tomorrow we'll continue east.

(This is the last post with the "lost photos."  In a week or so, I'll put them in order.)

Glitches, Adventures, and Misadventures - June 16/17/18

Plans get altered.  One thing we've learned about traveling is that anything can happen and it helps to be flexible!  Since we didn't have a definitive itinerary on our way to Livingston MT, we could change where/when we went and/or speed up getting to Rock Canyon RV Park.

We'd been to the old gold mining town of Bannack in SW Montana a few years ago and liked it.  We were there in autumn and had the St Pk C/G to ourselves - that was nice (no hookups, tho).  This year we had some company, but the C/G had available spaces, so we moved in for two nites.  Sunday, on our way to Bannack, we topped two 7,000'+ passes.  No problem, right?  I got in bed around 10 pm, gazing out the window, and by 10:30 we were snoring softly.  At Midnite, I woke up and mumbled to Jimmy, "I'm losing air."  And by the time I rolled out of my burrow around 6 or 6:30, lying on my side of the Sleep Number bed was like lying on a picnic table.  Jimmy, lying next to me, was about a half-foot higher!  So, 7,000'+ elevation blows a hole in the bed's air bladder - on my side - phooey.  Well, we got around it the next night by letting the air out of Jimmy side, too, and just slept on the memory foam - not altogether satisfactory, hard on the joints.  We had to drive into the City of Dillon in SW Montana (where we could get a cell phone signal) to call Sleep Number and have them 2-day ship us a new air bladder - but, where to ship it?  That's where being flexible comes in - we could be in Livingston in two days.  Especially if it meant not sleeping on top of a picnic table!

Meanwhile, Smartie, that rascal - decided not to start the morning we went to Dillon.  I don't think its hiccups have anything to do with 7,000' passes, but it passed some gaseous pops, and then Jimmy sweet-talked her into going.  So, in Dillon, we had more calls to make - finding a fix-it shop for Smartie.  When it rains, it pours.  Fact is, we had a lot to do in Dillon.  So, watcha gonna do, sit around and worry?  Nah, when we got home, we stomped around the ghost town that used to be Bannack.  Nice because most of the buildings are open.

Bannack, Montana

Doc Ryburn's house was furnished in period pieces (not including Jimmy).

At 3 pm, the rangers held a gold panning demo and everybody had a chance to find a nugget (or a minuscule dot), and that was fun.

Hmmm....

Grasshopper Creek, where gold was found in 1862.

Looks different today.  (Lots of skeeters!)

Thanx for the warning!

Yup, you're right!

 

One of a pair of Mountain Bluebirds.

In our small C/G, with some kind of locust trees, we found a lot of bird diversity.  Wrens had a nest outside our dinette window and a Northern Flicker had a nest hole in the tree near our door.  It mewed like a kitten when it approached the nest hole!  This blob on the branch (above) is a Common Nighthawk and we spotted a bunch of them - never saw one before.  They look different in the air -- sleek fliers!  Bullock's oriole and Cedar Waxwing and Red-naped Sapsucker, noisy magpies, Olive-sided flycatcher, Sage thrasher, and even two Sandhill Cranes hiding in the brush near the creek, and many more.  If I went out early when the temp was still cool (cold?), I could go out with my binocs and not get engulfed by skeeters!  At least we don't have ticks to contend with in these parts.

The good news is that while sitting with delightful neighbors at their picnic table, we didn't get bit by the horde of mosquitoes that flew at us when we walked out our front door.  Below is the reason why.  They had one of these gizmos on their table and not one insect!  While we were in Dillon, we picked up one, so WE ARE READY!

After Bannack, on Tuesday morning we made for Countryside RV Park (above, with full hookups), not far from Dillon so we could take care of more business.  We needed haircuts and long, hot showers and pedicures and manicures, plus we had dirty clothes to wash.  

Their Internet connection was so fast that we were finally able to download all the North American maps into our Nuvi (navigation) device. We'd had a problem with the durn thing since leaving home. When we drove from California into Oregon, it wanted us to turn around.  And it sure didn't recognize Washington, Idaho or Montana as being in the USA!  We'd bought a new chip in John Day that would enable us to get all North America installed, but had no connection fast enough to get it done.  On Tuesday evening, we installed the chip and on Wednesday (today), when we plugged 'er in to direct us to Livingston MT, it knew where we wanted to go!  Hallelujah!

Double hallelujah - our new Sleep Number air bladder was waiting for us at Rock Canyon.  Life is Good!

Bodie State Historic Park, Calif 10/22/10

Here we are at another ghost town! Bodie was once a bustling and lawless gold mining town boasting a population of about 10,000 in 1879. Today, it's a ghost town maintained by the State of California in what's called "a state of arrested decay." Only about five percent of the buildings remain from its 1880's heyday -- fire took out most of the town in 1932. According to the brochure, between 1860 and 1941, the Bodie Mining District produced close to $100 million in gold and silver! Mama Mia, that's a lot of dough!

Bodie is located in the middle of nowhere, in what I would call high desert, east of the Sierra Nevada Mtns.  On the day we visited, Bodie was chilly and windy.  At almost 8400', I imagine winters would be brutal.

One of Bodie's main streets.

 

The mill appears in the background. Touring it was off limits. 

   

Jimmy and his new ride!  (not)

Only a small part of the town survived, with about 110 structures still standing, including one of its many once-operational gold mills. We walked the deserted streets, with the wind whistling around us, in this town that was once bustling with people.  We went inside a few buildings, their interiors still stocked with goods. Littered throughout the park, one can find small shards of china dishes, square nails and an occasional bottle, but removing these items is against the rules of the park.

 

Enlarge the photo, if you can, to read the text;

it's quite thought-provoking .... 

Apparently the town was second to none for wickedness, badmen, and "the worst climate out of doors." Here's a quote from the brochure: One little girl, whose family was taking her to the remote and infamous town, wrote in her diary, "Goodbye God. I'm going to Bodie." The phrase came to be known throughout the West. We walked the dusty lanes and peeked in grimy windows... and none remains of Bodie's glory days.