This was really Nick's stop on the trip, but since it wasn't far out of the way, I decided to give it a look, as I also have an interest in ancient petroglyphs. The road is somewhat difficult to find. It is almost exactly two miles north of the junction of Nevada highways 375 and 318, and blocked of by a movable barbed-wire gate. Passing through the gate, I drive approximately ten miles through the open desert until I reach a sign marking the area.
Driving past this initial sign, I find the first of three highly decorated stone islands and begin exploring. The petroglyphs here are fascinating and somewhat unique relative to others I have viewed. Circling around the first area and returning to the jeep, I start driving toward the second area. The map I have though is far from scale and I pass the turn I actually needed to take. Continuing on for a mile or so, I end up at some abandoned shacks at the bottom of a gully. I have no idea who would have lived here or how long they have been deserted, but I'm fairly confident at this point that I should have taken the other road.
I head back and find my way to the second and third islands, known as Shaman Knob and shaman Hill respectively. I explore the Hill first and find some somewhat bizarre glyphs as I make way around the site. Entering a small closet sized area marked as containing a glyph of interest, I am greeted by the unmistakable sound of a rattlesnake echoing off of the stone walls. I immediately halt my progress and begin looking for the source of the warning. There, under the shade of a small juniper tree, sits my friend somewhat coiled and with his rattle sticking straight up in the air. I must say that even while I remain very conscious of avoidance techniques in the desert, nothing quite gets your attention like the sound of a rattlesnake doing his thing. I decide to dismiss the glyph he guards as less important and back out of the area, leaving him to his domain.
I head back over to Shaman Knob and find more interesting glyphs, including one of a humanoid figure standing next to some sort of saucer. These ambiguous pictures from the past always open my mind to speculation about ancient alien visits. However, as those that left the glyphs have been deceased for centuries or even millennia, I will be left to wonder.
Of all of the petroglyph sites I have visited, I have to rank Mount Irish among the best and I even had a little rattlesnake adventure acting as a cherry on the sundae. Time for the long drive home.
Arriving at this park on the far eastern fringe of the state, makes me wonder why I haven't come here before. The site is quite breathtaking. After the initial entry into the park, you enter a long gorge running north to south, and contained by the feature that gives the park its name on either side. Much like the Sump, this area was once a lake bed. Once dried, the muddy bottom began to dry into an almost stone like substance, and later erode into what I will describe as the cathedral's pipe organs. Many thousands of this formations form either side of the gorge as it narrows to a shallow canyon as one approaches the northern end.
As I intend to camp here tonight, I pay the fees and begin setting up my tent. Of all the campgrounds I have ever stayed, this one ranks among the nicest. With a couple hours of sunlight left, I decide to hold off on cooking dinner in lieu of exploring a bit. I walk the short distance to the eastern side of the gorge to begin taking in the pipe organs. The scale and quantity are breathtaking and truly beautiful. I'm compelled to take a huge number of pictures in a futile attempt to convey this places majesty to my friends.
Exploring still further on, I discover the "caves", which a ranger had mentioned to me upon my entry into the park. While not true caves, they are in fact eroded paths through the 'pipes' that remain in shadow most of the day and therefore noticeably cooler than the outside air. Some of them travel a few dozen yards into the cliff wall. Rather exciting to explore into these.
Finding may way back out to the gorge, I hike into the more narrow section at the northern end. From a distance, I can see stairs leading up to the precipice and what appears to be an observation deck overlooking the whole of the park. I make my way there for the view, and then fairly exhausted return to camp to cook some dinner.
My evening ends looking over a beautiful campfire, while attempting to keep warm in the plummeting evening temperatures. Crawling into my sleeping bag, I drift off to a restful peace and wake shortly after dawn. It's pretty cold though and so, I resist getting out from under the covers and out of the tent, though eventually I manage to do so. Watching the sun come up over the eastern pipe organs was awe-inspiring as I sip on my morning tea and look forward to my next stop. Cathedral Gorge did not disappoint. I hope to return here someday.
The next stop on my trip sits about 70 miles east of Tonopah. Lunar Crater is a National Natural Landmark and upon arriving at its crest, one can easily see why. This 430-foot deep volcanic craters is quite a sight to behold. I take a few pictures and then drive back the way I came, stopping at the nearby Easy Chair Crater on my way out.
This second crater is a collapsed cinder cone volcano, and collapsed in such a way as to resemble a very comfortable chair, though of magnificent proportions. A couple more shots and I head on toward my next stop.
For a couple of months, my friends, Nick and Brent, and I have been planning a road and camping trip to see some of Nevada's lesser known wonders. Unfortunately, both of them had to cancel due to work obligations, but I wasn't going to let that dampen my desire to head out for my first trip of the year.
Leaving before dawn, I made my way to the first site, thirty miles west of Tonopah, NV. The Sump, as it is known to locals, was considered for state park status in the 1930's, but apparently the state legislature of the time elected not to grant park status. The area seems to have almost fallen out of public knowledge, which is a shame due to the beauty of the area.
Leaving the highway for a rugged road up into the hilly desert, I make my way to the northern end of the site. From this view, it looks something like a miniature grand canyon, though white in color instead of the rich reds and golds of the national park. From what I gather from the few sources I have found online, the Sump is essentially a collapsed dry lake bed. Long ago, the area flooded and covered a thriving forest with thick mud. Eventually, the lake dried up and the muddy bottom began to erode, leaving the feature in front of me now.
As I explore the area, I can't help but notice how crumbly and fragile the whole area is. What appears to be stone is simply hyper-dried mud, which makes me somewhat unsure of my footing as I climb around the area with some perilous drop offs below me.
Driving around to the southern side, I realize how thankful I for having a jeep. As I drive over sagebrush and through the sand, I get stuck in the loose earth and beginning ever so slowly sliding down the hill, which puts me in danger of rolling. Drop it in 4-low and the rugged beast pulls itself out. Now parked on more solid ground, I explore a bit more. This time I see the feature that most drew my attention to the site - petrified trees stumps.
It seems many of those trees of the ancient forest were buried in mud while still standing. Now exposed to the elements, the mud has eroded away to reveal partially petrified stumps still standing. In most cases, the stumps have shattered into thousands of what I can only describe as Lego blocks littering the area of the revealed stump. Quite an amazing site to see.
While the area is remote, I have to say the Sump was well worth the trip.
