I always hate winter because of the limited sunlight after I leave work. Since we are still a week or so away from adjusting our clocks, I decided to head out for a little after-work hike. The nearby Huffaker Hills offers a nearby trail system, which have often used for training purposes in the past. I have hiked this network of trails literally dozens of times. By combining various loops in the park, it's easy to knock anywhere between 2 and 10 miles, with several opportunities for some pretty steep climbs. As I only have a couple of hours of daylight left though, I opt for a specific location within the park, but for which the trails only take me a portion of the way - Big Horn Mountain.
Leaving the trail head, I put on my head phones to catch up on a couple of my favorite podcasts. I wouldn't normally wear headphones while hiking, but as I know these trails like the back of my hand the danger is minimal. The trail heads directly for the southern-most of the Twin Peaks, which taking from another angle offers a really great climb, but this is not my path today. Taking the slightly easier trail to the top, I stop for a moment to admire the rock fort that someone has built many years ago for reasons unknown. If nothing else, it always makes for a good wind break when I'm up here.
In the distance, I can see my destination. From this point, I am forced to leave the trail and scramble down the rocky, golden-grass covered hillside and across the saddle to the northern face of the small Big Horn Mountain. Once I reach the saddle, I have to start the steepest part of today's short trek as I scramble up the worn coyote trails along the steep face. It's not terribly far, but it is extremely steep and when I reach the top, I quickly find what I'm looking for. In years past, someone or a group of someones collected stones from the mountaintop and created a large pile in the shape of a big horn sheep petroglyph. For anyone familiar with the ancient Native America rock art of Nevada, the form is unmistakable. While I have never seen one of the magnificent animals in the northern part of the state, I know they are around and I have seen several in other regions of Nevada. Before the settlers populated the vast high desert of Nevada, these sheep were probably far more populous and the Paiutes, Shoshones, and the tribes that came before them chipped an artistic version of the animal into many of the desert stones all of Nevada. Why this particular pile was created, is anyone's guess, but it is quite a site to see due to it's large size. It's approximately 40' tall by 50' feet long. So large, in fact, that it can clearly be seen on Google Earth.
After piling a few rocks and creating a makeshift platform to get above the creating for a few shots, I carefully make my way back down the hill and head back to the jeep. It was only about 2.2 miles this evening, but with all of the steep uphill rock scrambling, it was still a decent work out. If you are interested in finding the image on Google Earth, search for the coordinates 39°27'26.6"N 119°44'56.2"W. Switch to satellite view and zoom in until you see the unmistakable shape.
39°27'26.6"N 119°44'56.2"W
The plan was to hike up Mt. Tallac today with Deanna's Meetup group, but with high winds predicted on the ridge-tops around Lake Tahoe, the decision was made to move today's hike to the Luther-Fay Trail just east of Minden, NV. Surprisingly, I had never heard of this trail, which is unusual since I tend to research all of the nearby trails. That said, the adventure of a new trail with the good folks in this group is always a good time.
After carpooling to the trail head, the fifteen of us started up the network of trails, but luckily there is ample signage, a couple of maps along the way, and all of the trails pretty much rejoin before heading up the final part of the canyon. As always with this group, we make pretty good time. The trail is easy at first, but soon starts some sections of steep uphill across pulverized granite. The company is always good though and makes up for it.
While the group as a whole are all strong hikers, I tend to be among the front of the pack on most trips. In this case, I had to do a bit of trail finding as we moved up a small ridge almost four miles into the trail. The trail somewhat abruptly ends here. While a fellow-hiker and I await the rest of the group catching up, we take in some of the magnificent views of this canyon just ahead of us and below the towering Freel Peak, the tallest peak in the Tahoe Basin. At 10,886' it towers over everything else nearby and the canyon between our current location and the peak itself is full of color at this time of year.
As the rest of the group catches up, we do some rock scrambling a bit further up the canyon and eventually decide to stop for a quick break. While we wait, I snap a few more pictures of the magnificent color pallet spread out before us in this canyon. As the melt of a recent snowfall pours over small waterfalls at the base of the canyon, we watch the moon set behind the high ridge above us.
After our short rest, we head back to the trail head. The trail down is much easier, as downhill on pulverized granite always is. We make it back in about half of the time it took us to get to the top of the canyon. Total distance covered was just over 8.7 miles and the group decides to cap it off with a meal and a beer at Red's Old 395 Grill in Carson City.
A few months ago, I attended a lecture about an endangered fish species that survived in a remote water hole in the middle of the Nevada desert. The water hole is called Devils Hole and is contained within the Ash Meadows Wildlife Refuge Area, a detached portion of Death Valley National Park. The fish is called the Devils Hole Pupfish, and it is critically endangered, as the species only exists in this very specific place. It is closely related to other pupfish in and around Death Valley, but being cut off from their cousins some 25,000 years ago, the specimen here have followed their own slightly different evolutionary path.
As I was traveling from Las Vegas to Reno on my way home from the Wave and as Devils Hole is only a slight detour, I decided to pay these tiny desert dwellers a visit. The drive takes me through the open desert once more before arriving at the heavily fenced site. Apparently, intruders have damaged the hyper-fragile environment in the past and in an attempt to protect the species from extinction, tall barbed wire fences and gates have been installed all around Devils Hole, including the small mountain behind it.
I pull up and start walking towards the site. It's clear that accommodations have been made for the curious, as a tunnel has been built through the fencing, but protected still from anyone entering the area. It allows me to get close enough to get some pictures of the site at least.
From the lecture I heard and from my own research afterwards, it seems Devils Hole is actually connected to a truly massive underground aquifer. Because of the size and interconnected nature of this aquifer, it is highly sensitive to earthquakes - anywhere in the world. There are reports from a few years ago that a large earthquake in Indonesia caused the water in this small pool to splash six or so feet up the face of the rocks. Of course, this is bad news for the tiny inhabitants who live in the top few feet of the water and who are completely dependent upon a small ledge jutting out into the water for both their food supply and nesting area.
Unfortunately, I can only get pictures from a distance and cannot see the fish below. I take a few shots and move on to another section of Ash Meadows, where a closely related species is visible and not in such critical danger of going extinct. I take a few pictures as best I can before heading out. My time here is short and I quickly hit the road again, but I'm glad I stopped to pay the 200-ish remaining members of the Devils Hold Pupfish species a short visit.
For many months, I have been entering the BLM's lottery trying to obtain a permit to visit a very famous sandstone formation near the Utah-Arizona border known as "The Wave". While you may not know this place by name, I'm quite sure you have seen pictures of it. As the BLM only allows ten lottery winners and ten walk-ins to visit the extremely fragile site each day, I had to wait for some luck and that happened to be for an entry I requested for today! The entire trip that I'm currently on was all based around the Wave and I had been looking forward to seeing it for many months, but now the wait was over.
The drive from the North Rim of the Grand Canyon past the reddish hues of the Vermilion Cliffs National Monument was quite scenic. The dusty roads carried me far out into the Arizona desert and finally to the Wire Pass trail head, where my permit authorized my entry into the Coyote Buttes - North section of the protected area. The parking lot was very full, as there are a number of other trails to less fragile sites departing from this same area. I take a few minutes to put my hiking shoes on, sign the register, and affix my permit to my pack, before heading out down the wash.
The BLM was kind enough to provide a detailed set of instructions for reaching the site, which is helpful as there isn't much of a trail here. The instructions lead me about a half mile down a wide, flat, sandy wash before turning onto a side trail, which had a sign posted warning those without permits to keep out. Rising over the ridge, I'm in the open desert. Surrounded by fields of sand and large reddish buttes of various hues. It's hot, but I've got plenty of water and the wind is still blowing pretty hard, providing a mild sandblast treatment.
Continuing, I follow the trail up the red sandstone of a small saddle and then out onto the uneven rock slabs of the other side. I'm looking for a pair of small, pyramidal buttes spaced together like a bosom. This is one of the obvious markers of the correct path and before too long they become visible. About this time, I encounter three younger adventures (early 20's) who seem to be lost. I share my directions with them for which they are appreciative, but later complain to me that (in a friendly manner) that I walk way too fast for them to keep up.
In the distance, a large sandstone face comes into view and in that face, a long vertical crevasse stands out. My directions indicate that the Wave is directly below this crevasse and so, I had that way. The path cross over a number of small ridges and across the washes in between them. eventually arriving at the base of sandstone mountain containing both the crevasse and the wave. I'm presented with a river of sand at the base, which I imagine as a raging torrent after a monsoon rain, but for now, it's just sand. The climb up to the wave will not be an easy one. It's not that far, but the grade is very steep and to make it worse, the path is almost entirely over loose sand, which is always difficult to climb.
Finally reaching the top, my jaw drops and I am in awe of what I see before me. I narrow corridor between two faces, every surface of which is covered with uniformly undulating bands of red, white, and orange. A few yards beyond, the last rain has left a small pond on the surface and the bands enter and escape it on the far side. The sun is beaming down overhead and making for a spectacular light show off to the water's surface. I stop for a few moments to take pictures and just immerse myself in this unbelievable place.
A short time later, I skirt the pond to see what lies beyond, only to find two more corridors running at approximately 60 degree angles to the original one. These are smaller, but no less spectacular. Heading back to the entrance, I pause for a few minutes for a snack of some cashews while waiting for the sun to move slightly and remove the shadows from my pictures. About this time, the group I had given directions to earlier arrives and goes to work launching their drone, which makes for some interesting entertainment.
After taking the scenery in for nearly an hour, I decide to head back to the jeep. I really don't want to leave, but I have a couple of more hours to drive before getting to my hotel for the night and I don't want to be lost in the desert in the dark. As it turns out though, the way back is fairly simple.
When I arrive back at the jeep, I find that I have hiked about 6 miles, but it didn't seem like very far at all. I think I was just overwhelmed at the majesty of this place. I also notice that the trail crossed from Utah into Arizona and then back again. It was a long drive to get here, but it was completely worth it. If you ever have the opportunity to visit, please do, but tread lightly and preserve this place for others to bask in.
While planning my current trip, I noticed that I would be extremely close to the North Rim of the Grand Canyon, which I had not visited before. With few hotel options available in the immediate area, I decided to reserve a campsite in the park campground for the night. And this being the "grandest canyon in all the world", I had to get in a little bit of a hike.
Arriving at the my campsite around 3 pm, I quickly devoured a quick meal and set up my tent. This time of year, daylight is in limited supply and if I want to hike, I need to get moving. By about 4 pm, I'm trekking alongside the Transept Canyon, a large side-canyon connecting to the Grand Canyon. The drop off below me is quite high and I find myself being especially cautious for some reason - perhaps the howling winds below.
The trail sneaks through the forest, which is in stark contrast to the red hues of the canyon below. Green pines and the golden autumn leaves of the tall quaking aspen make for a beautiful site this time of year. All along the way, there are views of the wide expanse of the canyon and I am reminded of my first trip to the park several years ago. On that trip, we overnight down the challenging 'New Hance Trail' from the South Rim to the river and back. This trip will be much quick and not nearly as difficult, but the views are similar and just as spectacular.
Walking past a signed area, my eyes and imagination are captured by what remains of an ancient Native American dwelling. Only a simple foundation remains, but what a place to have lived. Waking every morning to look out over this beauty must have been like heaven on Earth.
The trail continues on around and underneath the North Rim Lodge, where a number of site-seers are walking out onto railed outcroppings to view the main part of the Grand Canyon below. As I join them on these rocky 'catwalks', I'm amazed at how strong these winds are rising from the canyon. I actually have to hold on to the rail at couple of points, as these winds have to be reaching gusts of 80 mph and upwards.
Arriving at my destination, Bright Angel Point, I am greeted with another amazing view of the Grand Canyon. For anyone that has stood atop either rim and looked out over the vastness of the colorful canyon below, I think you will agree that pictures cannot do Grand Canyon justice. There just isn't a way to capture such a place in two dimensions.
After taking in the view and doing my best not to be blown off the edge, I make my way back to my campsite. I covered about 3.3 miles on this short trail, but any distance is enough when walking alongside this natural wonder. As for those winds, they would continue on through the night. I awoke about 1:30 am and heard what sounds like a gushing river right beside me. Unlike normal wind gusts, these winds did not relent. It was just a constant humming, which made packing my tent the next morning quite interesting.
About a year ago, I received an email concerning an initiative to have the area known as Gold Butte declared as a national conservation area. This undeveloped and arid desert area is about an hour east of Las Vegas and north east of Lake Mead. The area includes beautiful examples of wind-carved sandstone, early mining sites, and a large number of ancient Native American petroglyphs. The last item was of particular interest to me and as I was planning a trip to Northern Arizona with a night in Las Vegas, this seemed like a terrific add-on to the trip. In advance of my trip, I had emailed an organization known as the Friends of Gold Butte, who are the primary driving force of the conservation initiative. My contact there was able to provide some very helpful information and even invited me to tag along on a trip they were planning on the same day, but unfortunately, my schedule was pretty tight and I had to go it a lone.
The drive to the site takes the adventurer far out into the open desert, but the directions provided were pretty easy to follow. Though there is very little signage, as one would expect, the gravel jeep trails are pretty well defined. I arrived at the trail head at about 8:30 am. I was surprised to find a number of vehicles here and one gentleman who confirmed that I was at the trail head for the Falling Man Petroglyph Site. He gave me some helpful advice in finding the nearby rock art.
Hitting the trail, I notice the 'rabbit ear' formation, which was mentioned in the information I had received. The lower section of the formation contains the first petroglyphs along the trail. They are faint, but unmistakable. The trail leads on around through a wash carved into the white sandstone, making the trail a bit difficult to follow, but still manageable. I always enjoy some mild rock-scrambling anyway. Following my 'Leave No Trace' principles, I do my very best to only walk on durable surfaces. Luckily, sand is a durable surface.
Moving on around to the next section, I circle a panel on a tall solitary pillar known as Calvin's Rock. The rock art contains a number of human figures, desert-dwelling fauna, and basic geometric shapes such as spirals. It is similar to other ancient artworks I have seen at other sites in the west, but that doesn't make it any less spectacular.
Looking ahead, I see a rock formation referred to as 'the tunnel'. Though it is more of a hole underneath two large boulders, but to get to the unique petroglyph for which this site is named, one must crawl through this small hole. I climb the sandstone up to the feature and then pull myself through. It's somewhat tight fit, but not terrible. Emerging on the other side, I find myself on a small cliff, about 20 feet above the desert below. Looking to my left, I see the namesake piece, the Falling Man. An obvious path leads out to the figure, which seems to represent a lone person falling, perhaps to their death. The location of such a glyph on a narrow ledge like this forces me to wonder if it chronicles the misadventures of an ancient inhabitant. I'll be careful to not share his fate. In addition to the man in peril, a number of other glyphs can be seen on around the face.
Working my way around and finally off of the ledge, I arrive in a small open area between two larger buttes and find the solitary rock known as 'Newspaper Rock', which contains a dense panel of petroglyphs along the flat and smooth eastern face. There are a large number of pieces on this panel, all packed together in dense collection - much like a newspaper.
The next section takes me several hundred yards across the open desert and past some truly amazing rock formations carved over the centuries by the desert winds. The trail is easy to follow across the sand, and less so in sections crossing rock, but I eventually walk into another open area between buttes known as 'Twenty-one Goats'. This broad panel contains a number of figures, but at the very top a line of twenty-one goats make their way across the smooth surface. The 'goats' are most likely big-horn sheep, which are and have been far more prevalent in this area, but whomever named the panel may not have known that. The 'goats' themselves are impressive in their straight line formation. Most are facing to the left, but some stubborn individuals face to the right. I can't help but wonder what story is being told by the art work.
Finally, I make my way back to the jeep and as I do, I encounter a large group of hikers, perhaps the group I was invited to join. I wish them a good adventure and make my way back to the road for my next stop of the day. In total, I only covered a little over 2.6 miles on this hike, but sometimes it's more about what one is seeing than the distance covered. I will return to Gold Butte when I have more time. I suspect this landscape has a lot more to offer.
Earlier in the summer, I hiked a few miles with one of the local meetup groups around the Lakes Basin area, which was very enjoyable. When the same group posted another hike in this area, but this time including a summit of Mount Washington, I decided to head that way. As is always the case with Deanna's group, there were a lot of - 29 hikers in total. We met just north of Reno and carpooled up to the Graeagle area. Since I had dinner plans and had to be back before others, I drove myself.
Arriving at the trail head at approximately 9 AM, our large group formed a circle and did quick introductions, as is Deanna's custom. It's a nice touch just to get people talking to each other, especially for newer members. Immediately after, she gave some basic directions and we were off on the trail. The entire group is made up of pretty strong hikers, but I tend to be at the front of the pack with a slightly (but only slightly) quick pace than most.
Our first stop was a familiar site - a small waterfall along Jamison Creek, which our trail had been mostly following up the canyon. I was a little surprised that it still had as much water flowing as it did, but it was a welcomed site. We pause for a quick moment to take in the image and then continue on.
Reaching the large lake known as Grass Lake, we get our first unobstructed views of our destination - Mount Washington, which rises approximately 7,800 above sea level. Not a giant mountain by any stretch, but one of the taller peaks in this general area. Our trail will take us around the back side. As we approach Wade Lake, the trail splits and we had to the left to make the 'V' path to the top. Almost immediately after the fork the trail starts climbing steeply and one we gain some of the elevation, we are rewarded with some magnificent views of Wade Lake, below us. The fall colors are just starting to come in and it makes for a nice shot.
The climb doesn't get any easier and we push our way uphill. A number of fallen trees remain on the trail and in some spots, we even encounter a little bit of snow, remnants of a early winter storm that passed through the area a week or so ago. Finally reaching the area just below the summit, we are forced to take a steep trail up the mountainside, be careful of good footing. Further up, the trail requires a short distance of rock-scrambling over some sharp and jagged boulders, but eventually we all make it up.
Mountain tops are always a great spot to take a quick lunch, and so each of us breaks out whatever snacks we carried with us. After that climb, we've earned it. Taking in the views from the summit, we talk about various peaks we can see in the distance - Eureka Peak, Sierra Buttes, and others. It really is pleasant up here, but we have miles to go and as the group starts collecting their gear, we start making our way down. As the path, we took did not seem to me to be a very favorable way to return, I do a little bushwhacking, holding on to the sharp stones and young manzanita bushes. A couple of others follow my route, while others find different ways down, but eventually we all return to the trail.
Making our way back down the mountain, we head towards Wade Lake, which had visited on the last trip. In fact, we will end up visiting all of the lakes during this extended hike. As I wait for a few to get a view of the calm lake, I encounter a small dachshund running around the trail, presumable a pet to some of the campers we see nearby. He doesn't notice me at first, but as I greet him, I must have startled him and he looks at me with scared eyes and runs off towards his owner's tents. He was a cute little guy and I'm sorry to have startled him.
The group reforms and we make our way to the remaining two lakes that we visited on our last trip, Jamison and Rock. At each, the group stops to take in the beauty before heading back to the trail head. As Deanna had planned for us to do a potluck at the Brewer's Lair Brewery just outside of Graeagle, I think everyone is a little anxious for some good food and suds.
All in all, we put in just over 12 miles with a fair amount of steep uphill. It was a good work out and it's always great to spend time with this group, as it is full of truly good people. As I only have time for a single beer before heading back to Reno, I choose a Black IPA. It's tasty after a long hike. I say my goodbyes and wish the group a terrific picnic before jumping in the jeep and heading home.
In the late 19th century, high above Donner Lake, engineers and construction crews completed a series a tunnels and finally conquered the Sierra Nevada and allowed rail transport across the treacherous mountain range. For decades, the rails running through this tunnels allowed cargo and passengers across the Sierra. Until 1993, when the Union Pacific Railroad decommissioned and removed the tracks. However, this left the tunnels in tact and since then, they have become a war zone for competing graffiti artists trying to surpass each other in a seemingly never-ending battle of spray paint.
For those of not involved in the war, the tunnels are a haven for admiring these fantastic artistic expressions, which change from one visit to the next as the battle rages. Of course, this was someplace I had to visit. Thankfully, my friend Bill has been there numerous times and knew the where the entrance was.
We got an early start due to an incoming winter storm. Arriving at the tunnel entrance near Sugar Bowl Ski Resort, we parked and headed into the dark tunnels. While there are several sections of the tunnels that are dark, many others are illuminated by 'windows' in the concrete walls. In actuality, only some of the tunnel's length was cut through the mountain. Other sections are merely long rectangular concrete open-ended garages that were used to protect the rails from snow and ice in the harsh winters of the Sierra - this was the location of the infamous Donner Party events, after all.
The 'trail' is nearly flat and so, the going is extremely easy, but the dark sections and the presence of large puddles here and there makes headlamps and a hint of caution useful.
While the sections of tunnel vary somewhat in length, most are half-a-mile or so. Where the wall the tunnel has been cut through the mountain, the artwork is much less prevalent, presumably due to the inconsistent surface, but in areas where the walls are concrete, the graffiti is like a never ending banner of colorful artist tags and various figures - some comical, some grotesque.
Well known pop culture references range from Dexter (from Dexter's Laboratory) to Freddie Kruger to Boba Fett. Still other images illustrate bizarre images like a nude human female with a hummingbirds head and wings (beautifully painted, by the way), a zombie-like nun with an inverted crucifix necklace, and a myriad of other strange, but often amazingly painted pieces. The skill involved to give these images life beyond amazing.
Eventually, Bill and I reach what we believe is the end of the line and it is quickly confirmed by some hikers coming from the opposite direction. We turn to go back the way we came, stopping to take a few shots of the blue Donner Lake below us. We also encounter a couple of Union Pacific trucks driving through the tunnel along the way, which concerned me a bit as I believed we were actually trespassing, but as they only wave as they pass buy us in the dark, I'm more convinced that luckily, we are not.
Returning to the jeep, I check the GPS, which was having trouble maintaining a constant signal. It shows we logged just under 7 miles this morning. We decided to head into Truckee and grab an early lunch before heading back. Bill mentions to me that the tunnels are even more amazing in winter when ice forms all kinds of bizarre structures in and around the artwork. I need to return.
