05-30-2020 Saturday at Hart Antelope Refuge

After discovering that our fan was blowing the wrong way and fixing the problem, we slept great until about 7:30. Quiet hours in the campground are from 10PM to 6AM, so we had no problem deciding to turn on the gennie to make coffee, toast a waffle and cook some bacon for a breakfast treat. Although we had no cell service and no internet, we still took a bit of time to charge up the phones while the gennie was running. Our plans for the day included a lot of back country driving and I wanted to be sure that I could access my offline google maps that I had downloaded before leaving home. I had also managed to find the $4.00 BLM map that I purchased back in 2013 covering the area.

We like this campground because it is reasonably close to the refuge. Even with the steep gravel road and some washboards along the way, it only takes about twenty minutes to get to the Headquarters junction which is the starting point for several side trips, including the Hot Springs Campground.

Of course, it takes a lot longer if you take time to stop and walk the short loop trail that leads to a wonderful overlook. We were the only ones in the small parking lot and took Mattie out without a leash, but just as we were getting ready to walk up the trail, another car pulled in and we called Mattie to put on her leash. The very nice lady said, “Oh no, don’t do that for me!” Mattie immediately recognized a dog person and ran happily over to greet her.

Mattie was so excited to be in a new place and was a bit distracted. She loves trails and likes to lead us and is very good about staying on trail. If there is some kind of fork in the trail, all I have to do is point and say, “That way”, and she looks at me, turns and leads off in the right direction. I love how some dogs know exactly what you mean. Mattie has a great vocabulary, and she can even understand when we spell a few words so we have to be careful when saying the word “walk” unless we are ready to go. So sometimes we spell it, but that no longer works.

Warner Wetlands viewpoint in 2013

The views of the beautiful Warner Wetlands stretching out below us are always thrilling from this point. We have photos of Abby at this same point, but Mattie was a bit too excited to pose properly. The water was quite muddy possibly from recent rains, and the skies weren’t as clear as they were the last time we were at this point. We also noticed there were a LOT fewer flowers in bloom, thinking that maybe we had missed the full bloom and this elevation.

The wind was also beginning to blow with intention, which made my attempts to photograph tiny flowers with my phone a bit of a bust. I wasn’t ready to pull out the heavy camera while trying to hike rocks with two sticks. I surely do miss my sweet lightweight Lumix.  It was destroyed by a suddenly falling heavy framed picture as it sat quietly on a windowsill in our office . Ah well, someday I’ll pop for the bucks to replace it, but not just yet.

After our hike we continued up the steep hill with a couple of big switchbacks to the broad gently sloping lands of the refuge. Just before the refuge headquarters, which are still closed due to COVID19, we saw an open gate to a dirt/rock road toward Poker Jim Ridge and a spring. It’s a road we haven’t traveled in the past and decided it was a good time to try it out.

We saw 4 antelope near the road, quietly grazing and they watched us awhile without concern before walking off. Then a northern harrier swooped in front of the car, flying with the distinctive low acrobatics that is typical for this kind of hawk. The bright white horizontal band on the tail was the identifying feature. Too fast for the phone, so no picture once again.

We made it as far as the spring, which was surrounded by more thick vegetation than we wanted to walk through, so I have no idea if it was warm or not. The creek feeding into the spring was pretty from a distance. Near the spring were remnants of an old homestead.

All along the road we were treated to the magnificent ridge of the Steens on the northwest horizon. We have traveled to the Steens in the past as well, but to do that from Hart Mountain requires more than 50 miles of bone jarring gravel washboard road across the desert. The only other way to get there is to return to Lakeview and Highway 395, travel to Burns, and then back south through the Malheur Wildlife Refuge to Frenchglen. It’s a great trip, but not one we will be making this time around. Hart Mountain and The Steens are two of the most remote and iconic landscapes in the high desert of Eastern Oregon. We love them both.

The road continued north toward Poker Jim Ridge, where there is a lot of wildlife, but got too rough for the Tracker and our nerves and we found a place to turn around.

Returning to the main road and to the closed visitor center we took the familiar road to Hot Springs campground where we had lunch at our old campsite where we tent camped in 2004. We have lots of fun memories of that camping trip in the days when we first started traveling together.

We neglected to bring our chairs for the picnic, but brought out the red vinyl pads that were a freebie from our Adventure Caravans trip to the Rose Parade in 2017. That made sitting on the ground a bit easier. Getting up from the ground is another story, but we managed with a bit of laughter, rolling over and rising from our knees.

After lunch, we drove over to the natural hot springs in the meadow where I dangled my legs in the 102 degree water. The bottom was a bit mushy, so I didn’t get all the way down, but it sure felt good on the crazy legs. Mo walked off into the meadow with Mattie searching for the other springs. Mattie was beside herself happy and ran around like crazy, accidentally running through a muddy creek which was deeper than she expected. She raced over to me, running in circles of happiness and covered with black guck. I dangled her in my spring to clean her off but she couldn't get out fast enough. Mattie is NOT a water dog.

Photo from 2004 of the developed spring at the Hart Mountain Refuge

Before we left I checked out the rock enclosure with a partially developed deeper spring. As I walked up, I heard people laughing and talking and called out as I approached. Springs are often clothing optional and I didn’t want to get a big surprise. There were three people who said they had come from Medford and were laughing and talking while soaking in the spring. They were staying in Lakeview, and I wondered just how much all those little aerosol particles were blowing around inside that closed space with people much less than 6 feet apart. I didn’t have any desire to dip in but had a nice conversation from a distance.

We drove back north to the Blue Sky road and turning south toward Post Meadows. There are a few ungated roads leading to the southeast across what appeared to be featureless desert and we had no desire to wander off in that direction on more bad roads. Besides, there seemed to be nothing out there to see at the moment, and the roads had signs saying they weren't officially open until June 15.

Once at Post Meadows, with a lovely view of the highest point on Hart Mountain, Warner Peak at 8,017 feet, we stopped at the pit toilet and let Mattie run around some more. Such a happy dog! By this time the winds were getting stronger and we decided that was enough for the day and it was time to head home.

Along the route, we stopped at Indian Springs for another short walk. By this time the winds were really strong, and as we hiked up a small dirt hill that was built above a man made pond, Mo’s visor went flying. She braved climbing down the slippery steep hill to get the visor. It was a visor from Hells Canyon and I wasn’t about to part with it. From the small man made hill from dredging the pond, we could see the small spring surrounded with thick grass. Mattie ran into the thick grass and had the best find of the day, an old leg bone from what was probably an antelope. She was determined and carried that bone all the way to the car. No clue if this spring was warm since we didn’t try to get up close. Time to get out of that wind!

By the time we got down the hill and back to camp, the winds were blowing at least 30 mph. Our balloon spinner that we brought from ABQ last fall was blown into pieces but somehow Mo managed to find each piece and put it back together. We also put away the ground carpet that was held in place by 3 big rocks but billowing like a wild sail from the one corner that we neglected to secure. Trying to fold it up in that wind was funny, and both of us were blown around like puppets by the wind catching the carpet like a big sail.

Inside the rig, the slide topper was whipping around like crazy. Usually our topper is stable in high winds but not this time. For the first time we can remember, we pulled in the slide to protect the topper and stop the crazy noise from the winds.

We settled in for the rest of the late afternoon, watching the rain to the north, playing some cards, and waiting for the winds to die down, as they often do, so I could bbq a little steak for our Saturday supper.

Dinner was delicious. We had a nice New York, which I sliced into two pieces, and then we each ate just half and saved the other half for lunch the next day. Pretty good for just one steak! We also baked a potato and I ate half of it and Mo ate a quarter which is her usual style. Funny how much less we eat as we get older and are perfectly satisfied.

The winds finally died down and Mo built another gorgeous fire. The sunset was a bit of a bust, without the brilliant colors from the previous evening. We sat with the sky and the fire till after 9 before retreating to bed and the dark night. With the winds, another cloud cover formed and once again there was no chance to see the gorgeous starry skies that are such a wonder in this part of Oregon. The darkness and quiet is so very beautiful.

A perfect day, with another one to come.

02-11-2018 Leaving Tucson Heading North

Remember that if you click on a photo, (except for maps and internet photos) it will take you to the larger version on my SmugMug site, where you can also see more photos in that gallery.

When Sunday morning arrived, the gorgeous clear skies over Tucson were showing a bit of gray.  Clouds were coming in.  We didn’t know at the time that there was a lot of rain heading towards the big city in the desert, and as the days passed with extended weather reports from friends and news sites, we knew how lucky we had been.  Our entire time so far had been gorgeous.  Sunny, warm, temperatures much above normal, no wind.  Who could ask for more?!

Leaving Tucson, we knew the best way out of town was on the interstate.  To our delight, I-10 at 9 on a Sunday morning was beautifully quiet.  Note to self, always leave big cities which require freeway travel on Sunday morning.  I was driving so we missed photographs of all the amazing freeway overpasses and bridges between Tucson and Phoenix.  Even the fences are covered with gorgeous sculptures, some in cement, some in rusted metal.  We enjoyed all the art along the highways, both in Arizona and in Nevada.  Next time I’ll have Mo drive this section so I can get some photos.

(The two photos here were taken from the internet just so you get the idea.)

I have noticed this trend growing in many places where we travel.  Made me wonder what it must be like to be a freeway graphic artist and to see your designs bigger than life in such a public venue.  Almost as much fun as the mural craze that seems to be everywhere as well.

We were still not absolutely sure about our route home.  I had checked the weather going north along Highway 395 in California, and it looked a bit iffy.  The fastest route would be to take Highway 95 directly north from Las Vegas to Reno, but geez that part can be boring.  We thought maybe we could boondock in the Alabama Hills if we could get through Death Valley.  Both of us remembered some of the climbs in and out of the valley.

The route we traveled from Tucson to Minden, Nevada

We decided to head for Phoenix, and then north, with no real idea of how far we could or wanted to go and where we might end up that night.  Beatty, Nevada was the goal, and then Stovepipe Wells in Death Valley, but who knew the timing.

I used the freecampsites.net website and found quite a few boondock sites north of Kingman.  I couldn’t believe how big Kingman was, and as we passed through, the boondock sites didn’t look all that welcoming.  We continued north, thinking we could find something.  Once again, freecampsites.net led the way.  We saw a big parking lot available across the street from the Hoover Dam Casino, just east of Boulder City and set a beeline for a free night spot that shouldn’t be terribly crowded.

Turned out to be a perfect place, and we never even bothered to cross the highway to visit the casino.  Dinner was once again some excellent leftovers from the freezer while we watched the sunset and settled in for the evening. A few rigs rolled in during the night, but they weren’t terribly loud.  By morning there were a few trailers, and some car and tent campers scattered around the edges of the big space.

Our plan was to continue north and then cross Death Valley, with a stay at Stovepipe Wells, but the weather had other plans.  It was COLD, and when we drove into Beatty I think the daytime temperatures were in the low 40’s, with a hard freeze predicted for the night.  I called Stovepipe Wells, where we were told all sites were taken, and we did a quick rethink.  We had passed a decent looking park on the way into Beatty, so gave them a quick call, and sure enough there was a space, full hookups.  Death Valley Inn RV Park was a good choice.

It was still early in the day, and as we thought about our options, it seemed like a good thing to relax early and spend some time playing and exploring.  We have been to Death Valley a few times, and the things we would see there are sights we have enjoyed in the past.  Something different would be fun.

We headed for the tiny Visitor center in town, next to the cheapest gas in town, and gathered up some brochures on local interesting things to see and do.  Rhyolite is a ghost town that is fun to explore, but we had already done that a few years ago.  We decided to explore some of the back 4 wheel drive roads, and found an interesting loop that meandered past old mining cabins, through “Secret Pass”, south to the desert, and back via the highway.

We explored the old Flourspar Cabin at a mining site before continuing up the road

The 8 miles to Secret Pass was challenging, but that is why we were out there.  I was a bit of a wreck actually, as Mo crawled over the big, pointy rocks, with me jumping out now and then to move some especially big ones.  Once we were past the bad part, it didn’t seem so bad.  I think for me it was the unknown factor of whether the road actually continued through.  I didn’t like the idea of having to back up and out over those rocks and ditches and eroded dry streambeds. 

When we got to an easier part, I started taking photos, and Mo asked why in the world we didn’t get photos of the scary parts?  I was too busy holding on and gasping! 

Of course, we didn’t have a good local map, and the phone map quit working about half way through.  We just kept going, and following our noses, found our way out of the mountains and across the desert back to the highway.  It was fun, and something we love to do when in the desert.  No flat tires, no getting stuck in sand or creekbeds, and beautiful views.

We had seen Big Dune on the way north to Beatty, and our dirt road intercepted the highway just a few miles north of the road to the sands.  We traveled the washboard gravel just 6 miles with the dunes looming in the distance.  This dune is incredible, a star dune out in the middle of the flat desert, and I loved it much more than the dunes in Death Valley.  Maybe because it rises all alone from the surrounding space, or maybe because it isn’t overrun with people, or at least it wasn’t when we were there.  Unprotected the way the Death Valley dunes are protected, it was covered with 4 wheeler tracks, but when we were there on this mid week afternoon, there wasn’t a soul around.

Mattie had more fun than she has had in a long time.  Something about soft sand makes her completely joyously crazy, and she ran around like a wild thing in the wind. 

She does the same thing at ocean beaches, and in big soft grass as well.  The dune was lit from the west with the late afternoon sun and the backdrop of dark clouds was a photographer’s dream.  Gorgeous!

On our way back, along Highway 95, we finally spotted the wild burros that were touted in the brochure.  All along our route we had seen burro apples, but no burros, so we were glad to finally see them.

A great mural in Beatty along the main road into town

The next morning was cold, so we took our time heading west toward Death Valley.  Stovepipe Wells was busy with tourists, and I stopped in at the Visitor Center and General Store hoping for a really good sweatshirt to add to the one I found at Chaco Canyon 4 years ago.  No luck.  I am pretty specific in what I want, and I guess my current version will have to suffice. 

I was glad we didn’t stay there, with all the people, visiting all the beautiful sights we have seen before.  It was enough to pass through this part of the valley and to save wandering around in the back country for another trip. 

Look closely to see the MoHo winding down the grade toward Panamint Springs

We knew about the long grade up from Stovepipe Wells, and then back down to Panamint Springs, not horrible, but definitely long.  We decided to unhook early on rather than waiting for the really big hill west of Panamint Springs.  Mo went ahead in the MoHo and I followed in the Tracker, making it much easier to stop along the way for photos.

We negotiated the really steep hill up from Death Valley toward Lone Pine without any mishaps, and stopped at the top for lunch and a walk with the dog.  The sun was warm coming through the windows, but the wind was really cold!

As we approached the intersection with Highway 395, I was again enthralled with the magnificent view of the eastern face of the Sierra Nevada Mountains.  Often at this time of year, the highways are snow covered, but this year the snowpack in the Sierra’s is extremely low.  It was our window in time to travel one of our favorite highways without being worried about the storms and snows.  We have been in serious snow storms with chains required on this road as late as Memorial Day!

We didn’t stop along the way, passing places we have visited in the past, reminiscing about good food, beautiful hikes, historic sites.  Many good memories along this route for us, and it was fine that on this trip we simply passed through viewing the incredible scenery.  We were heading home, and no matter how long we are out, when it gets close to home time, we tend to move along fairly quickly.

There is just so much to see and do along this highway, the list is huge.  It deserves a month, preferably in warmer weather, not just a day.  We will return.

Our destination for the night was Minden, Nevada, where we had stayed at a new park back in 2014 on our way home from Florida.  At that time, it snowed on us, April 1, and we were happy for hookups.  This time the prediction was for temperatures in the teens, and once again we were happy for hookups.  I called ahead, and was glad I did since Silver City Resort seems to have developed into a very popular place in the last 4 years.  Most of the people there are in for long term visits.  That surprised me because it can be cold in this area south of Reno.

When we woke up the next morning, the temperature was 12 degrees F, the Tracker was covered in thick frost, and even the MoHo had frost on the lower sides.  We had turned on our tank heaters for the first time in a long time.

It was time to figure out our home route, and we cooked a nice breakfast while debating whether to take our chances over the northern mountains or give up and cross the Sierra’s over Donner Pass and travel home via I-5.  Decisions, decisions!

 

1-12-2014 Last Day in Big Bend

NAS Corpus Christi: 67 F with a nice 10mph breeze and bright sunshine at 5:30PM

Sometimes the most difficult part about not writing blog stories right away is getting back into the “mode”. Sitting here by Corpus Christi Bay, watching the brilliant sun turn orange on the horizon and listening to shore birds makes it a bit difficult to slip back in time to our rocky world at Big Bend. 

This has been a lovely day, and there are more to come, and of course by the time I get to write about them, we will be off somewhere else, doing more lovely things and trying to remember the last lovely thing that we did.  It isn’t so much that I feel obligated to keep up with the blog, it is more that I really want to remember, for myself, what I felt when I was doing whatever.

So, I open up Picasa again, and look at the photos for awhile, think about where we were and what it felt like, and sooner or later, the feelings reemerge. I am back in Big Bend, the cool morning is opening up as the sun rises, the smell of the leafless cottonwoods and desert grasses filling my nose as we get ready for our last day in the Big Bend.

When we first started looking at ideas for this day, we thought it would be nice to do the dirt back roads that are between the Chisos Mountains and the Rio Grande.  The River Road traverses the southern portion of Big Bend and midway passes the ruins of the Marsical Mine.  Mercury was once mined here and structures are still standing.  In addition, the route has several rough dirt tracks that lead to backcountry campsites along the river that might be interesting to see.

But it is a 51 mile trip, with at least 8 hours of rough bumping around.  We do that a lot, but on this day we thought, no…maybe something easier.  I thought it might be nice to get back to camp by 3 or so and have time to cook a decent supper, get some laundry done, and be ready for Monday morning and an early departure.  You know, that life stuff. 

Instead of an all day backcountry trip, we took a 6 mile dirt road to one of the hidden gems of the park, the Grapevine Hills.  Photos of the Balanced Rock are everywhere, and yet it seems that fewer people make it out to the hills to take the short easy hike.  We thought, hmmm…maybe no one will be there and we can take Abby.  (If you haven’t seen my last post and my comment about dogs on the trails here is another thought about that.  Our dogs can carry diseases that wild animals are not immune to.  I hadn’t really thought about that aspect when I was grumbling away about the no dog rule and trying to get around it.)

The road was again, graded dirt, but with more washboards and a few ditches, but nothing that would require actual 4 wheel drive.  We drove past a couple of primitive camps, and at 6 miles arrived at the trailhead for Balanced Rock.  Lo and behold, there were six cars already there and 4 more had just arrived with big bunches of people piling out and loading up water and packs and leaving on the trail.  Way too many people for me much less an illegal dog!

We thought we would amble on down to the end of the road and check out the Grapevine Springs primitive campground, just another mile or so north.  The road got a bit rougher here, with high clearance needed for sure, but all wheel drive would have been ok as well. The campground was surrounded by brush, and didn’t have much of a view. We wandered around a bit, and finally made it through some of the thick, spiny brush to find what may have once been a spring.  There was a hint of an old cottonwood, but I am pretty sure it was no longer alive, and a hint of a view of the desert to the east, but it was hidden mostly by the brush.  Our trusty little guidebook author said it was one of his favorite primitive campgrounds in the park.  All a matter of opinion, I guess.  We wouldn’t camp there, even if we did camp in a tent.

By the time we got back to the trailhead, there were still a lot of cars but no one was in sight.  We talked about letting Abby wait in the car, since it was still very cool, but Mo wasn’t at all comfortable with that, so instead she encouraged me to take the hike alone to the rock and she would wait with Abby in the parking lot.

I took off on the easy rated hike, only 1.25 miles each way and well marked.  The skies were perfectly blue, the air was just the right temperature and the path was wide and easy. About 3/4 of a mile in,  I passed some hikers returning and they said there were javelinas on the trail, an excellent reason for not having Abby along.  I looked and waited, but never saw a sign of them.  I see some beautiful and healthy mountain mahogany trees, indications of a bit of a different climate back in the small valley surrounded by hills.  Stopping every so often I heard interesting bird calls, but not being a true ‘birder’, I had no idea what I was hearing.

Another couple came down the trail, and said, “It is just up the hill there, and there are still a lot of people up there”.  Hmmm.  At least I wouldn’t be surprised by the crowd.  What did surprise me, however, was the trail.  This was an ‘easy’ trail, remember?  As I saw the marker for the last 1/4 mile, I also saw the trail begin to ascend, and not gradually.  The trail looked dang near vertical, a scramble up the rocks, with switchbacks, and no end in sight.

This time I was armed with both hiking poles and my good boots, so I was ready.  Or almost ready.  I started up, and kept on going and going and going.  Yeah it was only a quarter mile, but it was definitely challenging to me.  Very near the end of the hike I looked at the rock as tall as I was and thought, “I can’t do this.  How in the world will I ever get back down”.  But I could hear voices at the top out of my line of vision, and thought, “Well, if I fall someone will at least hear me”, and up I went.  It wasn’t as hard as I expected, but it still was an adrenaline rush.

Then when I finally made it to the top, it turned out it wasn’t the top at all.  But there were definitely a lot of people there who were all busy scribbling in tablets and talking quietly among themselves.  They seemed to think I shouldn’t be there, but when I asked where the Balanced Rock was, one guy decided to talk to me and said, “Up there, on that trail.  It isn’t far.”  Oh great.  More up and in front of all these people, whomever they were with their little tablets.  I did ask someone if they were botanists or geologists, and a guy piped up and said, “We are artists”.  Oh.  They were all actually drawing desert images with colored chalk on little thin pieces of slate, obviously they brought their own slate since the rocks surrounding us were all granite of some sort.

With just a bit more effort, and a bit more adrenaline, I made it to the top of the landing below Balanced Rock, managed to take some photos without tipping over from vertigo, and climbed back down and beyond all the artists busily working on their projects.  When I had climbed the very tall, very vertical wall, I decided I needed both hands and had left my hiking poles behind.  I was happy to get down that rock and back to my poles, believe me.

It was worth it, of course, and I am sure the next time I won’t be so jittery about it, and Mo will be with me, too.  Yes, we will come back and do this hike again.

When I returned to the trailhead, Mo and Abby were comfortable in the warm sun, hanging around and getting in a few walks along the road.  We drove back to the main highway and then turned north again to go find another dirt road to what was called Painted Gap.  Now I have to say, this road was the roughest we encountered.  There were lots of rocks and high clearance was a definite requirement.  The view from the crest of the hill near the gap was nice, with the Chisos Mountains to the south, but the road was rough enough and I was a bit tired of bouncing around so who knows what we would have found if we had continued to the end in another 1/2 mile or so.  We didn’t see any paint anywhere, though, so have no idea where the name came from.

By this time is was mid-afternoon, and it was a fine time to drive the 30 miles or so back to camp with plenty of time to have a nice supper and actually relax a bit.  Our grilled chicken breasts were great in a parmesan penne pasta with a little caesar salad on the side.  Small kitchen cooking is simple but can be really good.

After dinner we decided to go exploring around the campground, something we hadn’t done in the three days camped here.  At the store, I was shown on the map where Abby could go, and the boat ramp was on the list.  We just couldn’t take the paths and had to walk on the pavement that led to the park campground and around to the ramp.  It was a nice walk, and long enough that we all got a bit more exercise.

The river looked wide and slow, and not at all scary.  Well, maybe just a little bit.  The ramp has a drop off into thick, silty mud and the river depth drops suddenly within a foot or two.  I couldn’t quite picture trying to hold my boat against the current, keep from sinking into the mud, while trying to climb into my kayak without dumping.  Friend Jeanne just pushes her kayak off the rocks into waterfalls.  Jeanne I am not!

We thought about trying to launch on the river in the morning before our planned departure and leave Abby in the MoHo, but common sense won out, and the lack of a permit and the country of Mexico within a few feet kept us from taking the chance.  I think this decision was made around 4 in the morning when I woke up, and could hear Mo breathing, and said, “I really don’t want to try to kayak in that river tomorrow morning”.  Her “OK” was quick and emphatic.  That trip will wait till next time as well.

Walking back from the ramp that evening we were treated to one of the best sunsets we have seen in all our time on the road.  The skies in all directions just kept getting brighter and brighter and the colors kept shifting and changing.  What a beautiful way to end our last day in Big Bend National Park.