AdventureTaco - turbodb's build and adventures

I do similar but get fuel in idaho

 

It could be worse. You could live here.

 

I have a buddy who moved to your area. 3 hit and runs on his car in one year. Hard pass.

 

Yeah, having grown up in the Bay, and with most of my family still there, I am definitely not jealous of what's happened from a traffic/cost of living situation. Still, I'll take northern CA over southern any day.

 

Far Below and High Above | Three Ways #1
Part of the Rock Art Three Ways (Mar 2023) trip.

We didn't plan to go to the Mojave. In fact, I've felt as though - over the last year - I've spent too much time in California, and I've had an urge to find myself back in places like Utah and Colorado. Alas, with a fantastic trip planned to hike the canyons of the Grand Gulch and Cedar Mesa, the weather did not cooperate. Snow - and lots of it - blanketed southeast Utah; rain spread across much of the lowland south. And so, at the last minute, I whipped up an itinerary to the only place I could find with clear skies: the Mojave Preserve.

The signs into the Mojave Preserve are really something special.​

Of course, there's always plenty to do in the Mojave, and having last visited in 2020 I had no shortage of places that we'd missed on previous visits, that fellow explorers had suggested I'd enjoy, or that I'd seen mentioned in a trip report I'd read online.

With less than 12 hours to departure, I'd pulled together a loop that would:

• take us to some pictographs,
• expose us to the highest concentration of petroglyphs in the preserve,
• and have us wandering through wonderlands of rock and rock formations.

It would be a trip full of rocks. And art. Rock Art Three Ways.


Into the Preserve, Out of the Preserve

For the last few years - as a result of Covid-19 - a small slice of land within the Preserve has been closed to the public. Technically run by the state of California, the Providence Mountains State Recreation Area is the site of Mitchell Caverns - a series of caves and passageways that extend deep into the hillsides.

Looks like the Mojave Preserve. Is not.​

The catch with Mitchell Caverns is that you can only explore the caverns at 11:00am or 2:00pm on Friday, Saturday or Sunday as part of a guided tour. And, you can only sign up for a tour via phone between 8:00am and 5:00pm on Mondays. Confusing much?

Naturally, it was Tuesday when I realized this, but naive as ever, we showed up at 9:30am, hoping that there was still room in the 11:00am tour.

With the Providence Mountains rising behind, the bright stars and stripes looked great waving in the breeze.​

While I'm a firm believer in hard work, it's also important to acknowledge that sometimes it's just better to be lucky. As we strode up to the counter and announced that we hoped to get our name on the roster for the tour, I could see the smirk appear on the park ranger's face. Clearly, tours - which were limited to 15 people - generally filled up well in advance of our measly 90-minute buffer. Prepping ourselves for disappointment, the ranger was nearly as surprised as we were when he said, "It's your lucky day, a group of Boy Scouts came with fewer people than they expected, so you can join their tour."

​

It's hard to underscore how lucky we really were. For the next hour-and-a-half - as we ate breakfast and wandered around waiting for the tour to begin - we watched as several other folks made their way into the office, only to be turned away for the entire weekend - all tours spoken for long before. Perhaps a lottery ticket would have been the appropriate way to celebrate.

While my non-video story format likely sports very few young audience members - if there are any - this is a device that allows one to insert small metal pieces of money (called "coins") and then carry on a short "voice text" with another person.​

Shadows played over the Providence Mountains as we waited for the tour to begin.​

This cholla seemed to have fewer spines than others we usually see. Still evil though.
(anyone know the variety?)​

At 11:00am sharp, the Scouts - Troop 1814 - wandered up from the campground where they'd spent the previous evening, and it was time to get started. After a quick set of ground rules - most importantly, "do not touch anything," - we headed along a significantly improved old mining trail to the mouth of the caverns.

Dual portals.​

Named for Jack and Ida Mitchell - who owned and operated the caves between 1934 and 1954 - the caverns were discovered long before the Mitchell's converted them to a tourist attraction and rest stop for travelers on nearby U.S. Route 66.

Scientists have found the remains of several prehistoric animals, including a 9-foot tall, 500 lb. Shasta ground sloth inside the caverns. Today, several species of insect are endemic to the caverns, and a single family of packrats has maintained a nest for more than 90 years.

The caverns were also a special place for the Chemehuevi Indians, and a number of tools and material culture have been found.

wikipedia​

The Chemehuevi knew the caves as "the eyes of the mountain" due to their easily spotted dual entrances located on the side of the mountain.​

Expansive desert view from "the eyes of the mountain."​

We were assured that it was 100% totally safe to enter the caverns. You know, just like mine adits. ​

As it had on the way to the caverns, once inside the tour progressed slowly. I'm sure this is deliberate - to accommodate less nimble visitors, to make it seem like you're really getting your moneys worth - but both @mrs.turbodb and I found ourselves yearning for the self-guided nature of our absolutely amazing experience at Carlsbad Caverns National Park. Still, the interior of the caverns was pretty darn cool.

Some stalactites hanging near the entrance.​

A ceiling of daggers. Careful where you walk.​

Petrified waterfall. (Flowstone.)​

A rare parachute cave shield, where water exits the cave wall horizontally instead of vertically, creating a shield-like stalactite.​

The main room and its columns (left). | A narrow, winding passage (right).​

Ceiling carrots.​

The dungeon.​

Even in here, they're using LEDs! (Well, in this case, black lights.) Eat your heart out, Mike @mk5!​

Because, blacklights.​

After a long couple of hours - and way too many corny jokes by our guide - we emerged from the caverns into the early afternoon shade. A strong westerly wind was pushing an atmospheric river across southern California and towards Utah; we could only hope that it'd dumped all of its moisture along the coast. Ready to get going a little faster, @mrs.turbodb headed for the Tacoma and the promise of turkey sandwiches and Fritos.

Goodbye, sun. Please come back soon.​

Uh Oh, Rain

As afternoon wore on, we found ourselves at the northwest corner of the preserve. A place we've passed by several times - but always in a rush to "get somewhere else" - it was only after seeing a photo from Ken @DVexile that I fully realized what we'd been missing.

This is not an uncommon occurrence for me - it seems that any time Ken goes somewhere, his photography skills result in my desire to see the location for myself - and this little mountain, surrounded by a vast wilderness was no different. Plus - I hoped - it would afford us a slightly sheltered camp site given the windy conditions that were sweeping through the Mojave.

With it looking like it might they sky might shed a tear or two, we decided to setup the tent while we weren't getting wet.​

Heading up the sandy slopes to the ridge.​

Almost immediately, there were signs of spring. Not from above - where winter still seemed in full control - but from below, where the smallest of desert dwellers were beginning to put on a show.

Brilliant bloom. (Fishhook Cactus, Mammillaria tetrancistra)​

Colorful cage. (Barrel Cactus)​

Even as a light rain began to fall, the hike to the top of Little Cowhole Mountain was delightfully pleasant. The grade wasn't steep and the moisture in the air helped to compact the usually-sandy surface. And the views. All along the ridgeline, the views were everything we'd hoped for and more.

A striking series of contrasts. Desert rain. Green hillsides and sandy slopes. Sprawling desert and rugged ranges.​

Below, an old mining cabin has seen better days. (El Lobo Mine; copper)​

We reached the summit just before 5:30pm - perfect timing given sunset 25 minutes later. Clouds rushing overhead, the intensity of the rain showers ebbed and flowed as I hopped from position to position, trying to find the perfect photo to capture the dramatic landscape.

Much more put together, @mrs.turbodb perused a peak log she found tucked away in an old tin can, its pages filled with those few who'd come before us.

Looking out towards Cowhole Mountain to the south.​

This small notebook was less than 5% full, though it'd been here since 2006!​

To the west, Soda Lake was looking a bit squishy.
(The road across was closed by NPS at this time.)​

With all the clouds and wet stuff falling from the sky, we were reasonably sure that we weren't going to get any type of show as the sun dropped below the horizon. But - as had been the case earlier in the day - luck was on our side!

And again, we neglected to pick up a lottery ticket.

Pink rain glowing in the distance.​

A purple light blanketed the land.​

Bracing ourselves against the gusty winds, we stood there for several minutes enjoying the private show that nature seems to unveil as often as we're willing to watch. It wasn't what I'd pictured - or rather, what Ken had literally pictured "for me" - but I couldn't have been more pleased. Though, some handwarmers would have been nice, I suppose.

It was a quick trek back down the ridge to camp, the rain picking up a bit as we arrived back at the Tacoma under the cover of (nearly) darkness.

Making a quick check of the weather - we were still close enough to civilization to have a single bar of service - we were delighted to see that the rain would let up during the night. That would mean falling asleep to the pitter patter of drops on the rain fly, while allowing plenty of time for the tent to dry before we had to put it away in the morning.

And so, after munching on a few snacks - to avoid cooking a full dinner in the rain, and reading for a bit in the cab - we climbed up into our nest for our first night in the Mojave.

 

Gorgeous Photos!

Thank you.

 

Been a long time since I’ve seen an operational pay phone.


Close enough

Great write up as usual.

 

Oh, but I did. Wish I had easy access to the photos, too, but too lazy to find and hook up that hard drive tonight. I'm on my 3rd 10TB external drive since getting a camera... still working on the elusive skill of 'discretion' when it comes to shooting.

I definitely took a bunch of photos of that archeological site at the corner of the parking lot though -- thanks for explaining how the ancient cultures used this mysterious contraption.



Gotta post some sort of picture though, you know for the likes... so here's another lizard meme thing:



Caught this dude showing off in Echo Canyon last week.


Oh, and that reminds me ... I drove up to some sort of mine up there -- you had posted some pictures from there with implausibly green colored rocks, and I wanted to finally prove to the world you were full of shit. That was obviously photoshopped. Rocks are rock-colored. Not green. Obviously.



But I get up there, and the rocks are actually green?!?



What the fuck, dude, you spraypainted half the mountain green just for likes on TacomaWorld???



Not cool, man.

 

Nice! I love that you got up there. How was the dry fall?

By the way, earlier incarnations of that archeological site actually used these round disks with holes in them for the numbers. You'd drag a hole around the center pivot point and then a bunch of little clicks would indicate which number you'd selected. Super confusing when you hear, "Para español, marca dos." Also made it a lot less convenient for the lock screen password to be 000000.

 

Compared to the shit-show that was Calico the other month... the dry fall was a cakewalk. I did get out to walk it first, afraid that the worst was around the corner. Nope, that was it. Didn't even ask the wife to spot, just cruised up easy peasy, perhaps even gracefully, and didn't even scrape against a single rock. I dunno, maybe they made it easier after the flooding, but it's practically a bunny hill. A steep, rocky, and definitely intimidating bunny hill.



Coming up next: The poster immediately regrets having boasted on the internet after he manages to pop two tires and crush a door panel at the shopping mall. Or whatever.

 

Wow, that certainly seems like a smaller step than when we were there. Not that size matters. Well, I'm super glad you got to see that green ore. That's where you should start your mine, though land acquisition might be rather difficult.

 

A Stroll through the Rocks | Three Ways #2
Part of the Rock Art Three Ways (Mar 2023) trip.

Having drifted off to sleep to the pleasant pitter-patter of rain, it was extra nice to wake up just before sunrise to clear skies and a completely dry tent. Letting @mrs.turbodb bank a few more minutes of shut-eye, I headed to a nearby ridge to watch the sun crest the horizon.

Surrounded by mountain fingers, any westerly winds had been kept at bay through the night.​

Half an hour later, my whistle - carried across the sandy slopes on a cool breeze - was answered in kind as @mrs.turbodb started her morning routine while I retraced my steps back to camp and broke down the tent.

With a full day of activities ahead, we held off on breakfast - opting to make our way east - to Kelbaker Road - and then south - to Granite Pass - before indulging in our morning bowl of Honey Bunches of Oats (with Almonds) and setting off our first seven-mile trek of the trip!

This was a hike that I thought - unlike the vast majority of hikes I plan - would simply be a nice, leisurely stroll through some wonderful landscape. There was no mine or petroglyph to be seen at the end, and the route wouldn't wind its way through a dramatic canyon on the way to a commanding overlook atop the highest peak.

Rather, I hoped that we'd find - in the southern reaches of the Providence Mountains - a leisurely abandoned road offering a gentle path to explore this isolated region on foot. Climbing alongside beautiful outcroppings of artfully weathered monzogranite boulders, it would afford us the opportunity to enjoy wandering through a wonderland of rocks before descending to a loop through Quail Spring Basin - a desolate high-desert valley carpeted with extensive cactus and yucca gardens - before returning the way we'd come.

We were greeted by tremendous rock gardens right away!​

We played peek-a-boo with the Granite Mountains to our south, as we slowly gained elevation.​

Having recently visited nearby Joshua Tree National Park for the first time, the rock formations here were strikingly familiar.​

We thought this pillar looked like it sported rows of embedded teeth.​

The most interesting boulders were a short distance from the trail, and the hillsides - sprinkled with piles of smooth jointed rocks that hold narrow passages and cool caves, slickrock, inviting coves and occasional small arches - called to us for a closer look. We obliged, joyously, as we continued towards the apex of the route.

Eventually we gained enough elevation - though gradually enough that we barely noticed - that our view of the Granite Mountains opened up, a desert garden carpeting the landscape into the distance.​

Parrot rock.​

Water-stained capstone.​

Even with our off-trail scrambling, we made good time to the loop around Quali Spring Basin. Here - as with the first couple miles of the hike - the attractions - more artsy rock - were easily just off the main trail, our path wandering this way and that as each new sight caught our eye.

We never found the outlet to this guzzler, but the tank was completely full.​

Mushroom rock sunstar.​

On our way back to the Tacoma, layers of desert unfolded before us; Kelso Dunes and Soda Lake gleaming under the sunny sky.​

It was only a bit after 10:30am when we arrived back at the truck and headed north for a quick stop at Kelso Station. Built in 1923 by Union Pacific to compete with the Harvey House stations on the Santa Fe line, the depot was a spacious two-story building with a waiting room, a ticket office, a telegraph office, a baggage room, living quarters for staff, a billiard room, and a library. A 24-hour eatery would be added later. Closed by Union Pacific in 1985, it was acquired - for the sum total of $1 - by the National Park Service when Mojave National Preserve was created in 1994. Over the next several years, it was renovated and since 2005 has been the preserve's main visitor center.

I'm never all that happy with the photos I get of this place, the palm trees always just a little "too close" and blocking the view.​

I'd never really looked through the windows before, but this room looks to be restored to its former glory.​

From Kelso Station we turned northeast for a short stint on Cima Road. Luckily it was open, a month-long closure for resurfacing scheduled to begin only a few days later. Our destination - Macedonia Canyon - was only a few short miles up the road and soon we were out of the truck watching as a Union Pacific train barreled over the wash that doubled as our route.

​

One of the last trains to run this section of track before the 2023 derailment two days later!​

Someone needed to do a little clearancing given the recent rain and additional sand in the wash.​

Squeaking through.​

The clouds were looking nice as we headed into Macedonia Canyon.​

Having never driven Macedonia Canyon before, I'd initially mapped it as a way to quickly cross the Providence Mountains, but upon further research - of the satellite variety - I discovered a couple of mines off of the main route and we decided to check them out. At the very least, we figured that they would be a great place to enjoy a lunch that we'd both been looking forward to since picking up the key ingredient at In-N-Out Burger when we'd arrived in Las Vegas.

As I poked around taking photos, turkey sandwiches with spicy peppers from In-N-Out "magically" materialized. Yum.​

Ramshackle cabin.​

It turned out that we we'd parked at the Blue Rock Mine. Originally the Confidence Copper Mine, only small shipments of ore were made in 1918. In the 1980s, Bill Brown - who lived in Los Angeles and drove out to his mine on weekends - bought the property. Bill mined the Blue Rock for "pods" of scheelite (tungsten ore) even though there was still substantial copper mineralization on the property. By 1998 the mine was no longer active, the roof having been torn off of the cabin, and Bill's "jeep" and trailer - which he stored at the Cima Store - abandoned.

An inclined shaft plunged to depths unknown a few feet from the cabin's deck.​

A note left by a visitor, two decades ago...​

...who returned, twelve years later.​

This old generator delivered the power of one horse before barfing its guts out.​

After a tasty lunch and a bit more exploring - there was an old, collapsed cabin constructed of railroad ties not too far away - we hopped back in the Tacoma and headed a little further up the canyon to a second mine I'd discovered. While we hadn't seen much at the Blue Rock, I hoped this one would have a bit more in the way of artifacts - at least, it appeared so from orbit.

I was a little disappointed when we arrived at the vandalized mill footings.​

The Columbia Mine lies at the head of a valley that drains northwest from the north end of the Providence Mountains. The workings include a shaft 380 feet deep which is inclined 49°, from which there are drifts southwest at 100, 200, and 300 feet. Primarily in search of gold and silver, these drifts explore the footwall vein. A crosscut from the south side of the ridge and a connected drift explore the hanging-wall vein. A crosscut from this drift meets the shaft at the 100 foot level. Water stands in the shaft 120 feet below the surface.

The records of the early production, when the shaft was sunk and the levels run on the footwall vein, are not at available, though between 1900-1905 there was a 5-stamp mill on the property. During recent years, 57 tons of the highest grade ore that was shipped containing 0.28 ounce of gold and 35 ounces of silver per ton.

Tom Schweich​

Can't quite make out the decade of the newer (I assume) mill.​

One of the adit entrances was safe enough to warrant two notices.​

I'm a sucker for dugouts. Apparently this one once contained chemicals used at the mill.​

What is it?
(It's a homemade wind mill... on its side.)​

A second adit still contained an old ore bucket, the bottom rusted out.​

Outside the second adit, a bit of track led to an old ball mill trommel.​

A few balls, stuck in the screen.​

By the time we were done at the Columbia Mine, we'd spent quite a bit longer in Macedonia Canyon than I'd initially expected we would. This wasn't a problem. In fact, I viewed it as a solution to a dilemma I had about where to camp for the evening. Had we blown through Macedonia in only an hour or so, our arrival at camp would have been quite a bit earlier than usual. However, with progress rivaling that of a Mojave tortoise - which I'm not sure even exist despite the thousands of empty burrows I've seen - we'd arrive at our next destination a couple hours before sunset - perfect to do a bit of exploring and then find camp!

Dumb luck strikes again.

Back in the Tacoma, we made quick work of the rest of Macedonia Canyon - the sun and wind at our back; the road mostly smooth - on our way to Council Rocks and a nearby cave. We stopped only a few times to snap a quick shot here and there, @mrs.turbodb taking advantage of a warm cab and fully belly for her afternoon nap.

Note: the location of this cave and the nearby rock art is not well known, so if you know - or discover - where it is, please don't mention the name or location, especially on the internet. Do your part to keep this special location from becoming vandalized.

​

Hand rock.​

A fire passed through here 10 years ago, but the views are still dramatic.​

We were a couple weeks before the main bloom, but this Gooding's verbena was looking nice along the side of the road. (Verbena gooddingii)​

It's easy to see why this area was used by early Native Americans. Not only is it sheltered, but two water sources - a small tank in the drainage and a spring - exist nearby, affording anyone who found it a better chance to survive in this hot climate for an extended period of time. A ceiling covered with pictographs and floor covered with grinding holes bear witness to those - likely Chemehuevi or Mojave, if not the Desert Archaic before them - who found this place hundreds of years ago.

@mrs.turbodb looking content after we discovered the cave.​

The red pictographs are fading after so many centuries, but there are more than 174 individual elements.​

A better look at the pictographs.​

This lean-to rock shelter with stacked rock walls was used sometime between 1910-1915 by ************ and her husband Roy Wood as a birthing shelter during a winter storm. That event - well-known amongst locals - has been remembered in the name of the nearby cave.​

In addition to the cave, a nearby field of large boulders was scattered along the base of the mesa. Even before finding the cave, we'd discovered a few petroglyphs carved into their hollows, and so we headed back for a more thorough search as the sun raced towards the horizon.

A warm glow caught this Pancake Prickly Pear (Opuntia chlorotica) just right.​

These were the first petroglyphs that caught our attention.​

I really liked these polychromatic pictographs, and while I don't know what they represent, we'd see petroglyphs with a similar design later in the trip!​

Climbing in and out of caves and cervices looking for rock art was a lot of fun.​

A large boulder with a handle.​

Window art.​

As we were ducking in, out, under, and around every nook and cranny that we could find, I made my way to the base of the mesa, wondering if some of the overhangs might have provided shelter to the Native American Indians who once called this place home. While I didn't find anything I recognized as human - though, that doesn't mean there wasn't something to find - I did discover something I've never seen before!

A beehive - out in the open!?​

Close-up of the combs.​

I was pretty jazzed to have seen the hive, but with only a few minutes until sundown, I was reminded that it's easier to take care of dinner while it's still light out. And so, after a day of leisurely exploration, we headed back to the truck to find camp and get ourselves situated for the night.

This Black-tailed jackrabbit was hungry, curious, and terrified of us, all at the same time. (Lepus californicus)​

As we ate dinner, the show in the sky was just as good as any TV, and the screen size was just a smidge larger.​

Clouds on fire.​

Our bellies satisfied and truck oriented head on into the 15mph winds, we hung out in the cab for an hour or so as I transferred photos and filled my copilot in on the plan for the following day. It was simple, really - only one hike planned for the entire duration - if one can ever call an 11-mile hike to the highest concentration of petroglyphs in the entirety of the Mojave Preserve simple!

For now though, it was time for earplugs as the wind, rain - and ultimately snow - fought to keep us from a good nights sleep.

 

That's pretty much what it looked like from the bottom side last month. Except that orangish rock wasnt there. Also the truck was gray and facing the other direction.

It guess my point isn't so much that it's easy peasy, which I think is literally what I said... but that compared to some other recent stuff, or for example dedeckera... it was nice coming up on the crux of a new trail and thinking "ok, we can do that" instead of "you've got to be kidding me," for once. I was fearing something worse!

...


...

OK, don't leave us hanging, what's the secret ingredient from In-N-Out???

 

An Ancient Highway | Three Ways #3
Part of the Rock Art Three Ways (Mar 2023) trip.

Even with the wind - and intermittent snow - buffeting the tent through much of the night, a good pair of ear plugs enabled us to get a reasonable night's sleep at the southern end of the Mojave Preserve's Mid Hills, near Hole in the Wall. We'd camped in this spot once before - when there was much more snow on the ground - and so upon waking up just as the sun was peeking over the horizon, I climbed out of the tent to do a bit of exploration.

Good morning swiss cheese butte.​

Knowing of some nearby petroglyphs, I headed east - a half mile or so along the base of the mesa - to check them out. My recollection was that these weren't the most amazing glyphs, but when we'd visited them the first time, we had very little experience with rock art. I wondered - though I tried not to get my hopes up - if there were more in the area that I hadn't even thought to look for last time and that I might find this morning,

The boulder of glyphs that we'd seen on our first visit.​

This bighorn is brighter than the other etchings, perhaps a more modern addition.​

Heading into the boulder field, I found a new-to-me petroglyphs in a nearby shelter.​

A good distance away from the primary boulder, and facing west - and so illuminated at sunset rather than sunrise - I found several more symbols on a series of large rocks.​

As I made my way back to camp, I climbed up the face of the mesa to some wind caves that I hoped might have been used as shelters. Facing east, they would have warmed up in the morning and been cool in the afternoon; at a few hundred feet above the valley floor, they would have given their inhabitants a nice vantage point of the surroundings.

A good place to see comings and goings, but I didn't find any indication of habitation.​

After a family whistle from the cave high above camp - to let my lady know that it was time to brave the cool, windy day - I made a quick detour into a short slot-canyon-esq section of the ring loop hike before heading back to camp.

It was chilly in slot, but there was a bit of nice light reflecting down from above.​

Soon enough, breakfast was eaten, camp was stowed, and @mrs.turbodb had assembled another series of tasty turkey sandwiches for us to pack along our single planned hike for the day: an 11-mile excursion through the highest concentration of petroglyphs in the entirety of the Mojave National Preserve.

That is, after we braved the - reportedly - very flexy road to get there.

We really couldn't have asked for nicer weather as we headed cross-country.​

"Flexy" is defined differently by every driver. Still, with no visible tracks, it was nice to know that we were off the beaten path!​

I'd allowed nearly an hour to cover the seven flexy dirt miles to the trailhead, but with a little deep sand - easily navigable even with full tire pressure - being the only excitement, it was only a few seconds after 8:16am when we pulled into a sandy side wash for a warm-up to the main event of the day.

The search was on for a small arch.

We headed out under blue skies.​

​

Mojave mound cactus. (Echinocereeus triglochiderus var. mojavensis)​

Pancake Prickly Pear (Opuntia chlorotica) standing guard over a Grizzly Bear cactus (Opuntia polyacantha var. erinacea).
I think. ​

​

This brightly clad California Barrel cactus made for a cacophony of cacti! (Ferocactus cylindraceus var. lecontei)​

Success!​

Having squandered a full 17 minutes enjoying the cacti, finding the arch, and returning to the Tacoma, even a couple more miles of sandy driving wasn't going have any meaningful impact on our schedule - this was a day that we were going to be done early!

Or, so we thought at the time...

Our final approach to the trailhead.​

As you can imagine, as the location with the highest concentration of petroglyphs in the preserve, this is a special place. As such, I've been careful not to name it. If you should visit it - or if you know where it is - please do your part to keep it special as well, and refrain from naming or giving directions to it on the internet.

​

And so, just after 9:00am, both of us lathered in sunscreen - and with our lunch and camera equipment stowed for the 11-mile stroll down ********** - we set out.

The majority of the wash is both broad and relatively flat. In fact, over the course of the 5.5-mile descent, the wash drops only 800 feet, making the entire trek a leisurely affair but for the soft sand under foot. Staying to the edges of the wash - or on more solid gravel bars - helps immensely, and by the time we were done we'd developed an eye for the most stable path.

That's not to say we didn't have a lot of up-and-down throughout the day however, as much of the rock art - primarily petroglyphs - was located 50-100 feet up the darkly varnished walls, giving us the "opportunity" for plenty of exercise.

Rock art wasn't the only thing we ran into. This California Barrel cactus was nearly as tall, and significantly more massive than @mrs.turbodb!​

Not knowing exactly where we'd find the petroglyphs - I'd marked a couple of points where I suspected the art would be, but figured that we'd surely notice them as we walked the wash - we started by walking down the middle of the wash. At more than 300 feet wide, I soon realized this was a mistake - we couldn't see either side with any amount of detail - and I suggested that we head to the east side as it looked more promising from a boulder perspective.

We were very excited when we arrived at the edge of the wash and there was a large panel right in front of us.​

Almost immediately - and for more than the next mile of - our decision paid off! There were literally thousands of glyphs along what was once clearly a highway for the Chemehuevi and Mojave people who called these lands home.

There's no good way to share the full experience, but here is a smattering of what we found.

Water here dried up more than 800 years ago, but this water symbol - and many more like it - hinted at why this area was so heavily traveled.​

There were lots of concentric geometric shapes, I really liked this cross.​

Sunstar glyph.​

Clapping overhead man.​

In addition to concentric shapes, there were also many reflections.​

Circle of life.​

One condor...​

...and then another.​

There weren't many sheep along these walls, but we did find a few.​

A shield, anthropomorphs, and a few sheep.​

This looked like a spider to me, though I don't know that I've ever seen a spider glyph before.​

​

We'd seen this concentric H as a pictograph near the cave we found the previous afternoon.​

Centipede.​

Leathered panel.​

Reflected snakes.​

It took us more than two hours to make it through that mile of wash, and - with the petroglyphs thinning for a moment as the wash widened and the varnished boulders gave way to rolling hills - we both knew that we'd only scraped the surface. Now, with more than eight miles to go, we made the decision to pick up the pace for the next several miles. There - where the wash narrowed dramatically, I hoped we'd find even more of these fantastic figures, giving us the opportunity to ponder their meaning so many years after their creation.

Even as the rock art dwindled, the surroundings continued to be their own reward.​

A small conglomerate arch decorated the bend in the wash where we settled down for lunch.​

This guy was either lucky to find a spot all to himself, or isn't going to make it much longer...​

Look at the "W" wave in the volcanic flows. There was some geology going on here!​

These little balls appeared to be "bubbles" of lava, each less than a quarter inch across and all packed tightly together.​

Only a couple dozen feet away, the "bubbles" were much larger.​

We made it through the narrows and to the apex of our hike - technically at the lowest elevation - four-and-a-half hours after setting out. Just before 2:00pm, this - where the wash meets a second access road - was our turnaround. We hadn't seen any additional rock art in the last couple of miles, but the hike had been so pleasant - save for the soft sand constantly getting into my shoes - that I don't think we minded a bit. Plus, turning around meant that we'd get to take an alternate route back, perhaps with more rock art along the way!

A cool breeze kept us in our long sleeves all day.​

Upon reaching the edge of the area where the highest concentration of petroglyphs had presented themselves on the way down, we followed a bend in the wash wall up a small tributary to the east. Once again we hit the jackpot, with entire walls of varnished stone covered in figures and shapes. It was a good thing this was the only hike we had planned for the day - we weren't going to be getting back as early as we thought!

Claw man.​

Bird feet or yucca?​

Surely these are stacks of pancakes.​

More of the reflections we'd seen elsewhere.​

Scorpion.​

I thought this was an interesting glyph, carved along the edge of a rock. A timeline perhaps?​

This pineapple glyph was similar to a pictograph we'd seen in the cave we'd explored the day before.​

As I climbed around above the wash, I found a small pool.​

A map of some sort?​

Eventually - as has perhaps happened for everyone reading this story - even we were overwhelmed by the shear quantity of glyphs and we threw in the towel on trying to see them all. Certainly, one could spend days - or weeks - scouring this area, discovering more rock art, shelters, and signs of habitation.

We on the other hand were getting hungry and so as the sun began to drop below the ridges to our west, we completed the final mile to the Tacoma. There, the solar panels - which I'd deployed on the windshield to keep the batteries topped off - had done their job brilliantly; our devices were charged, the fridge was cold, and at nearly 13V, the batteries were happy.

As a soft glow covered the land, we consumed our traditional taco dinner and finished the meal with a couple of Duet bites. These - for anyone who's had them knows - are fantastic little treats. Half brownie, half Madeline, @mrs.turbodb had picked up a box on our previous trip to Death Valley, so it was a no-brainer to grab another box this time.

Goodnight sun.​

Our feet tired, we soon found our teeth brushed and our faces washed. It couldn't have been much after 8:00pm, but we were ready for bed.

Still, as we nodded off to sleep, I couldn't help but think about the following day. Unlike today, where I was reasonably sure that we'd find what we were looking for - after all, we were searching along an ancient highway with thousands of rocks covered in art - rumor was that there was a single "blueprint" petroglyph at our next destination. The only problem was - we had only a rough idea of how to get there...

 

Roaming Below Cedar Point | R&R 1
Part of the Three Days of R&R (Apr 2023) trip.

Note: Visiting Cedar Point (and Cedar Mesa in general) requires a pass. For more information, check out BLM Utah Cedar Mesa Permits and Passes Information.
​

My trip got off to a rough start when my plane from Seattle to Las Vegas was delayed by an hour, just after I arrived at the airport. While it was "only" an hour, I knew that even with my flight south, I had quite a bit of driving to do after I touched down and picked up the Tacoma. Driving that would now extend past midnight, shortening the amount of sleep I'd get for my first day of exploration.

See, I've been itching to get out of California for a while now. Over the last 16 months, a full 15 of my 24 trips have been to the Golden State, and I'm starting to miss the variety offered by places like Utah, Colorado, and Wyoming. Of course, the high elevations and northern reaches are still snowed in, but there's never a shortage of amazing hiking and exploration to be done in the Grand Gulch and Cedar Mesa area So, with a few days to burn, I'd pulled together an itinerary that would take me back in time.

With more than 30 miles of trails, it'd be a literal marathon of R&R - Rock art and Ruins!

Tacoma acquisition and provisioning went smoothly enough once I finally had my feet on the ground. The problem - as it were - reared its ugly head two hours into my ten-hour drive, when I noticed that the ARB fridge - which has worked flawlessly and that I've loved for the last six years - wasn't cooling. This was especially strange given the fact that it had worked just fine on our last trip to the Mojave Preserve, but after a little in-the-field debugging, I realized that the quickest way forward - for now - was to simply convert the fridge into a cooler. I could deal with the actual problem, later.

So, after an unplanned stop for two, 10-lbs blocks of ice, and a couple stops for fuel, I found myself pulling into a windy camp site - just north of Mexican Hat, Utah - a little after 2:00am local time. The trip hadn't even really started, and I was already exhausted.

Sunrise came and went without my even realizing it.​

By the time I awoke the sun was well above the horizon and the tent was nice and toasty despite the relatively cool temperatures I'd enjoy for much of my spring trip to southeast Utah. As such, it was more of a struggle than usual to haul myself out of bed and down the ladder for what I'd planned as a short, leisurely stroll along the base of Cedar Point.

In the distance, the formations in the Valley of Gods reached into the sky.​

Figuring that lunch wasn't all that far away at this point, I quickly stowed the tent and headed out for what I'd thought was a three-mile roundtrip to several rock art sites...

As I headed out of camp, Cedar Point was looking majestic in the mid-morning light.​

Of course, as I set out, I had no idea that a hike I'd planned for two hours would end up taking four, so I moseyed along looking for petroglyphs, excited for each one I found. And boy, there were quite a few.

The first petroglyph I found was in the Basketmaker style. (0-500 A.D.)​

The next panel had quite a bit going on.​

Two of the anthropomorphic figures. One was tall and skinny, the other (a woman?) seemed to have a purposefully-carved hole in a rather conspicuous spot. This was also only the second spider I've seen, the other recently discovered in the Mojave Preserve.​

This panel was especially interesting as the faint bighorn sheep seemed to have been carved behind the rest of the smaller figures and dots that made up the panel.​

A more focused view of the bighorn sheep.​

I'd see a lot of Duckhead Man on this trip.​

While the true meaning behind the Duckhead Man petroglyphs will likely never be fully understood, a few possible interpretations - based on the cultural and historical context of the Ancestral Puebloans who created them - are that the Duckhead Man represents a shaman who could transform into a bird and fly to other realms; that he is a symbol of water and fertility, since ducks are associated with rivers and lakes; or, that ducks were the form taken by Katsina (spirit beings) when travelling.

It wasn't every large boulder that was covered in petroglyphs, but many were.​

A closer look.​

This was an unusual figure.​

One thing that I always find amazing about rock art is that the canvas - as it were - generally seems unchanged since the patterns and figures were etched hundreds or thousands of years ago. Of course, desert varnish has returned in some cases, and a few sandstone fins have cracked in others, but in general, the period of time is not long enough to make a dramatic difference.

In the case of one boulder near Cedar Point, not only has time intervened, but it did so as the art was being added to the surface. Well, probably not as the art was being added, but during the same time period.

Tipped Over petroglyphs.​

Once right-side up.​

This marker's been here for quite a while.​

Time is slowly recapturing this figure.​

These were simple, but I liked the brightness and the green contrast.​

With lots of poking around, unusual views often presented themselves.​

By this point I was starting to get hungry and even with all the poking around in various nooks and crannies, it was taking longer than I expected to cover the "out" portion of the hike. In fact, I was more than two hours into the ordeal when I took a closer look at my track and I realized I'd actually mapped seven miles of trail! That, plus the inevitable searching for art - which often adds significant additional distance - and the couple hours I'd slept in, suddenly gave me pause as to the itinerary I had planned for the rest of the day. Yep, off to a good start!

The final panel I'd planned to see - a line of dancers!​

It was after 11:00am when I finally saw the Tacoma in the distance.​

Way behind schedule, I could have made up a little time by skipping lunch, but having purchased the fixings for some deliciously spicy turkey sandwiches with hot peppers from In-N-Out, there was no way I was going to let the opportunity for belly-filling pass me by. It was a good thing too, as the next segment of my day also took longer than I expected, an indication that - in my excitement to get to Cedar Mesa - perhaps I was trying to squeeze in just a little too much.

As usual.

Headed west - towards Muley Point - in search of more rock art along the base of the mesa.​

The landscape here is dramatic, the San Juan River carving a most circuitous route through the desert.​

In places, the road seemed to encroach on the canyon walls.​

Dotted Man.​

Billboard panel.​

Another great Duckhead Man. Notice how the one on the left has bird hands and feet, while the one on the right has human extremities.​

Grumpy lizard wishes to be left alone.​

I don't know if I'll ever tire of this landscape.​

Let's hope this doesn't become a trend.​

​

I don't generally think of seeing Fishhook Cactus on Cedar Mesa, and this one hadn't quite gotten its spring color on. (Sclerocactus parviflorus)​

Winding my way west, the next 15 miles presented a series of rock art panels. The first of these went quickly enough - the road graded and smooth, speeds of 25mph not uncommon. But, halfway in - after crossing a water-filled wash that surely marks the turnaround spot for most - the road got significantly rougher. It wasn't anything to worry about with the proper vehicle, but as I'd refrained from airing down, it meant dropping my speed dramatically.

A few bumps in the road as I got out in search of a nearby panel.​

This guy really gets around.​

Big boulders everywhere, even the "blanks" were a dramatic sight.​

Lost in the rocks.​

This was the first Kokopelli Man I'd encountered on the trip, and I really liked how he was connected to the sheep!​

Kokopelli was a fertility god, usually depicted as a flute player and known as a playful prankster and storyteller.​

As I was poking around, I stumbled on this amazing tafoni. I didn't realize it at the time, but it wouldn't be the last of this trip!​

Eventually, I reached the end of the road - or at least, as far as it was going to take me - and got the truck flipped around for the return journey. I'd skipped a couple of sites on my way out, leaving myself a few stops on the way back.

It was a little after 2:30pm when I headed back the way I'd come, and I enjoyed the views just as much the second time through!​

Broken Man. Note how the petroglyph continues onto the varnished surfaces of a once larger rock.​

The Obelisk.​

More dancers, but these appear to be sitting, the panel appropriately named, "Men on a Bus."​

I really liked this vibrant panel of a hunt.​

Back on the smooth road.​

Somehow, even with my constant forays into the rocks, I'd managed to make up a bit of the time that I'd fallen behind earlier in the day, and it was 4:00pm as I transitioned from dirt to pavement. Headed north now - toward the Moki Dugway - I hoped to continue my exploration of Johns Canyon before making camp for the night.

Time wasn't on my side, but I hoped that if I could keep from getting too distracted along the way, I might be able to squeeze in a few ruins before the sun set. Of course, distractions are the name of the game in places like this, and I'd soon discover that today was no different!

 

Bump to try and get this to a new page

 

This area is one of those places that begs to be explored on a motorcycle. The experience is unique.

We were down at the other end of the valley and coming toward Mexican Hat. The low fuel warning comes on. I'm less worried because I'm riding with a friend who is on an Adventure which carries around 8 gallons of gas. We quickly confirm the distance to fuel and continue on. Rolled in the Shell Station just as I ran out of gas. We should have grabbed a steak at the swinging steak place. That was kinda cool.

 

Would definitely be cool to do on a bike. Though, hot I feel like. And dusty. But still fun.

And I know that Shell station well. I haven't been out of gas there, but it's the only gas for quite a distance. I did run out of gas - coasting into the Arco station - in Beatty, NV once as I made my way out of DV. Truck stalled as I was slowing at the stop sign, so I just rolled through and to the only open pump. Whew!

 

It was July so not the best time to be there but that's the beauty of the bike. You experience everything.

 

EddieWorld is cooler. They have lots of overpriced candy. But it’s nice that Arco in Beatty started accepting credit cards (been a few years I think).

On to the next page! Next post should do it.