July 10-12 -- Hikes to Great Basin's Alpine Lakes and Wheeler Peak

This is a long post photo-wise as there was just so much to see on these 2 days in Nevada's Great Basin National Park that I thought it would be better (and faster) to do captions on each, and if there was anything of note to add that in not-so-bold lettering. So here goes -- what I saw on July 11 in chronological order -- 

This Pronghorn crossed the highway in front of me. I fumbled for my 100-400 lens on the passenger seat, got the strap tangled, uttered an oath, and finally got this somewhat butt shot. And it has quite a rear end...

A Horse With No Name -- "Skeletal Art" along the entrance road to Great Basin Nat'l Park. The roadside was dotted with whimsical metal art. 

On the trail to Stella and Theresa Lakes -- Why does the Wild Turkey cross the trail? I was surprised to see these at 10, 100 feet. 

A deer poses picturesquely against a background of towering trees and the Wheeler Peak complex. 

Stella Lake -- yup, Nevada has more than sagebrush, casinos and cathouses.

An inlet creek to Theresa Lake is dotted with Parry Primrose (thanks to my friend Romain Babcock for the flower ID). 

Theresa Lake, about a mile's walk from Theresa Lake. I took this hike in the morning; the afternoon was so windy the visibility in the neighboring valleys was nearly zero. Serendipitous once again in doing the hike when I did. 

In honor of the 4 Tenors -- ok, 3. 4 juvenile Barn Swallows waiting for their parents to give them yet another round of nosh. The nest was on the BLM campground's bathroom building -- right above the bathroom doors. Appropriate, I guess, as there were droppings below the nest. Fun to watch! 

July 11, at the start of my hike up to Wheeler Peak. I was the only one there that early in the morning, but I met about 20 others while going up and down the trail. 

Ummm, uhhh...OK, I've been warned. But I've done this hike before -- more than 10 years ago. And I've done the option hikes already. 

Come ON,  what is it with these Turkeys? 

The trail goes across a low saddle, where the winds can be fierce. I hear from other hikers the wind was blowing like the dickens the day before. So far it's windless today. 

 

Well, it doesn't look TOO bad...My destination, the top of Wheeler Peak, about 3000 feet above the trailhead. 

The wildflowers are awesome and colorful, and are even on top of Wheeler Peak. Butterflies, bees and moths, too. 

Here's a sign of how the wind can howl through here -- protection from the wind made out of rocks. There were about 3 such wind protectors along the trail. 

Ma, are we there yet? Nope, the summit is behind that. At this point, the rocks make the walking a bit unstable. And it's steep, too. It's even worse going back down. 

It was at about this point that I met a fellow going back down the trail. "There's no wind up there! By the way, my name is --- " (I forgot, Eric something, from Davis, CA). "My name's Steve Wolfe". "What, THE Steve Wolfe? It's an honor to meet you on the trail!  I've seen your photos on Smugmug and the Internet!" OK, that could be me... Until he said "So are you still doing presentations and seminars? Still conducting classes out in the field?" Uhh.....I lied, and kept up the deception. "Sure!" I realized at that point he got me mixed up with the other Wolfe -- Art. Oh well, he swelled my ego for a few minutes...

Top of the world, Ma!  Wheeler Peak's summit, at 13,065 feet. It's the second tallest mountain in Nevada ; Boundary Peak in the White Mountains just inside the border on the west with California is the tallest -- 13,146 feet. On this day you can see for about a hundred miles in all directions; this is looking east. The day before, with all the wind, you couldn't see anything -- but you wouldn't want to climb to the top, anyway.

Here's the US Geological Survey marker on Wheeler Peak's summit. 1944, "Fine or imprisonment for disturbing this mark". How did they know I was planning on prying it off?

I'd like to see the little UPS truck drive up the trail to deliver mail HERE...There's a register inside. I signed it with my name, Portal, AZ, and a comment -- "Spectacular!" (Sorry, not too original. I couldn't think straight because my brain was oxygen-deprived.) 

From the summit, here's the view looking southwest at the Spring Valley. Nevada is the most mountainous state in the lower 48 -- over 200. They trend north to south; someone described them as looking like caterpillars on the map, crawling down it. Nevada has been called "the poor man's Alaska". It's part of the Great Basin, where its lakes and streams don't flow to a sea; they end up in one of the valleys between the mountains. Valley and mountains -- Basin and Range. 

Here's the view looking to the north. The low area between the mountains is Sacramento Pass, between the Snake Range. The bald-topped mountain that you can barely make out on the northern range is Mount Moriah; I hiked up to the top of Moriah about 10 years ago. Beyond that, you can see the Deep Creek Range. If you want to be away from everyone, that's the range to visit. I never have -- yet. 

Even at the top, 13,000 feet, the wildflowers are gorgeous. They help to keep your mind off the sheer drop-offs around you. I know I have a touch of vertigo...

As I mentioned, coming back down is the REAL bear. A steep gradient, loose rocks, scree and talus -- it tested my limits. But the views somewhat kept my mind off the steep descent. Here's looking to the east, with a half moon above the mountain. (One of the peaks in the Wheeler complex is named Jeff Davis Peak, after the Confederate president. Southern sympathizers were very prominent here during the latter part of the 19th century.

Here's looking northwest to the Spring Valley. On the western edge of the valley is the Schell Range, also very picturesque, especially in fall. And those durned rocks on the trail...

Ah...relief!  The trail smooths out, and it's now nearly level. That's Stella Lake below. Thankfully, there has been very little wind during the hike -- and yes, Eric was right, it was windless on the summit. 

Here's looking back up the trail; the curved helmet-like peak is Wheeler, where I'd been on top just a few hours before. 

Wildflowers continue to dazzle with their color. 

Ah, back at the my campsite at the Sacramento Pass, about 17 miles west of Great Basin Nat'l Park. Along with the resident Barn Swallow family are Mr and Mrs Kildeer; here one of them does the "broken wing" routine, which is supposed to distract predators away from its nest. They're living in the small riparian area at the campground. 

It's now the morning of July 12, and I'm heading for my next stop -- northern Arizona's town of Elko, and the spectacular Ruby Mountains, called "The Swiss Alps of Nevada".

I finally got a good photo of a jackrabbit! 

Here are two

panoramas from the top of Wheeler Peak. 

And a final sunset from my campground site at Sacramento Pass. Barely visible at the bottom is Notch Peak, in western Utah's House Range. 

July 7-10 -- The Start Of North To Alaska Is Finally Here...

And as it's now July 15 when I'm writing this, I'd better get on the stick before I start forgetting all the details...On Thursday, July 7 I picked up Discovery II at the Lazy Days RV service center. They'd replaced the propane regulator and checked the lines just to make sure there were no leaks. I have Good Sam's extended warranty service for the trailer, which means that if anything goes wrong with it, you just pay a deductible, and Good Sam pays the rest. My deductible was $250; the work on the trailer was $226.28. But just in case something goes wrong and it runs over $250, it's nice to have. So I head out -- and the journey to Alaska starts. Through the magic of the Internet, I discovered that it's 3,781.6 miles from Portal to Anchorage. Well gee, I'd better get things going! 

I didn't want to go too far the first day, and I knew where I wanted to camp -- Oak Flat Campground northeast of the town of Superior.  It was recommended at Free Campsites.net, and had no facilities; it was a boondocking site. At Winkelman I was faced with my first choice; take Hwy 77 straight to Globe, then backtrack on the 60 down to the campground, or take a more winding route but not have to lose mileage. I opted for the more winding route, which began picturesquely enough, but just before Superior I had to climb a grade, with the gas pedal pressed all the way to the floor. 45mph, 40, 35, 30... I couldn't pick up speed, and there were cars behind me. "Come ON, where's the top of the hill? I finally reached it after hitting 20mph, wound down to Superior -- and saw one of those highway construction signs reading the route NE from Superior leading to the campground was closed from 5am to 5pm Tuesdays and Thursdays. Today was Thursday. And it was only 11am. Well, that's a fine how-de-do!  So I had to backtrack anyway, and I was running out of gas, so I headed for the closest large town, Florence. While on the way I thought I'll wait until 4:45, then head back and in the meantime I'll just park on the side of the road and wait it out. I ended up near a gunnery range. It was hot inside the trailer, and it was hot and windy outside, so I said "this is ridiculous; let's head back to Superior as at least I'll be going in the right direction." (Sometimes if I'm faced with a choice that's different than the one I planned, I dither, which I was doing now.) So I went back to Superior, and the highway sign now magically read "closed 9am-1pm", and it was now 1:30. What? Well, who cares why; I lucked out once again instead of deciding to sweat inside Discovery for a few hours. The highway from Superior to the campground is one of those on the map with green dots running along it, meaning it's scenic, and it certainly was as it ran through a canyon that was still pretty lush considering how hot it was. I saw the sign for Oak Flat Campground, pulled in, and got a nice spot next to an oak tree --

There were even fire rings and a bench -- and it was a freebee site. Across from me were large tents with a large group of people; I figured out later that they were part of an Apache tribe that were protesting giving the land to a mining company. Apparently it's created a lot of controversy between the Apaches and local politicians, lined up with the mining company. I went for a hike and found out just how beautiful and area was, with the copper mine visible in the distance. There were a lot of 4-wheel-drive roads running through the landscape -- 

There were venerable oak trees running through the riparian area. I'd say it deserves to be saved, just for its scenic qualities.

Around sunset, Western Kingbirds were chasing one another around the tops of the oak trees, and a young Cooper's Hawk flew over me at my camp site, and I later saw another take a dip in a small water hole on the entrance road. Yes, I'd say it's a pretty neat area, and a great place to spend the first stop of North To Alaska. BTW, I never got up the courage to go over and talk with the Apaches; I should have... 

The next day I went through the town of Miami. It was where my mother was born, and the family lived in a canyon called Turkey Shoot. All of this area is mining, specifically copper. My grandfather worked in the copper mines, and all he got out of it was having all of his teeth fall out from all that exposure to copper. But blissfully, it now has a Walmart. Now, I don't like what they do to local businesses when they move into a community, but I have to admit that they're extremely convenient when you're traveling. And the Miami one had WiFi, too. There isn't much to see in Miami; the majority of the town seems to be mines; there's even one across from Walmart on the main highway through town. So as is my usual, I get out of town, and the road past Globe takes me through the very scenic Salt River Valley. I'd read it on the map, but had no idea it looked like this -- 

You start high on one side of the valley, wind down to the bottom, and climb up the other side. The grade this time, as opposed to the one before Superior, was manageable, and the views were terrific. And thankfully there were strategically placed, wide turnouts for those with big rigs -- 

You can see a bit of the road just off to the right. The rest of the highway to Show Low (I just checked, and the unusual town name comes from what a participant said after the result of a marathon poker game) is pretty, high-desert and mountain scenery. There had been a horrendous fire in the area just a few weeks before I went through, but I saw no evidence of it. I connected on to Interstate 40 and took that west to Flagstaff, then north where I stayed at my second free campsite -- right across the road from the entrance to Sunset Crater National Monument. It took awhile to find a good, secluded spot, as most were taken up by weekenders out for some ATVing, but persistence paid off -- 

Perfect. After dinner, I put the camp chair out and watched a Mr. and Mrs. Western Bluebird feeding their fledgling, heard screams of Steller's Jays, the cries of Flickers, and enjoyed the waning day, and the setting sun on the pine trees --

If you can find a good spot, and get off the main road through the area, I can highly recommend it -- though not to get away from everyone. 

The next day I continue north up Highway 89 and going the Navajo Reservation land. It's an odd mix of stark beauty and abandoned "trading posts" along the road where the locals sell their wares. The plateaus and mesas remind you that you're entering into the redrock country of the southwest, after the pine forests of Flagstaff -- 

There's always the dilemma when traveling with an RV or trailer; should I take the easy looking route on the map, or the squiggly one with the green dots along it, meaning it's scenic but possibly winding and twisty with uphill and downhill grades? That's what confronted me now. I threw caution to the winds and headed along the "green dot route". And I'm glad I did; the landscape  near the Vermilion Cliffs looks like it could have been right out of a John Ford western  --

And then, at Navajo Bridge, one of the few crossings of the Colorado River from Page to the western end of the Grand Canyon, you get a unforgettable view of the Colorado, though the river was named because it was originally red (Colorado) due to silt carried by the river, which is now stopped by the Glen Canyon Dam; it now runs clear and cold --

There are now two bridges spanning the Colorado at the point; the old one is used as a pedestrian bridge, and the newer one supports the highway traffic. Here's the view of the new from the old --

Some scenes of domestic life on the road with Discovery II... The trailer has 2 solar panels of 160 watts each. It means that the RV batteries (2 of them, AGM sealed batteries of 6 volts each) are constantly kept charged up by the panels -- well, as long as there's sunlight. Without the panels, there's always a chance that the batteries will be run down if you use them at night -- mostly things like lights. With the panels and its controller, it's much less likely to happen. And though the outlets don't work -- you need 120-volt shore power for that, say a generator -- you can buy a small inverter that, when, say, a shaver is plugged into it, will charge things like cell phones, laptops, and Sonicare toothbrushes. My inverter, a 300-watt one, plugs into a cigarette lighter in the USB terminal. I got the inverter from Amazon, of course... But it really helps when you're living off the grid.

And who says you must have bland meals when you're traveling in an RV? The spaghetti was de-lish, and I was reading the latest Gordianus the Finder ancient Roman mystery by Steve Saylor. Hey, this is not a bad way to live on the road... But I still do need Faranuf to come home to.

Back to North To Alaska... I usually prefer not to go over, say, 250 miles a day. That way I don't feel wiped out when I finally find a campsite. But I decided to go all the way to Baker, Nevada that day -- about 400 miles. I ended up fighting a headwind when I went through the desert mountains of western Utah, but actually wanted to get to my next free campsite as the weather report for the next day was for high winds. I figured the further west I got, the less of a chance for high winds, since that was direction they were coming from. (Fat chance; it was even windier the next day.) But once I got to my no-charge home for the next few days, it was worth all of the effort to get there in one day --

It's the BLM "recreation" area at Nevada's Sacramento Pass, about 20 miles west of Great Basin National Park. Hard to believe it's a free site -- fire rings, barbecue grills, tables, cabanas, vault toilets, even a little riparian area with Killdeer and Barn Swallow residents. And my spot had a killer view, too. More to come about Great Basin Nat'l Park, an unsung jewel of the national park system, and then the Ruby Mountains of northern Nevada...

July 4-6 -- Last Sunrises And Sunsets, And I'm On The Road (sort of)

As those of you who have been reading these blog posts know, I'm heading north to Alaska with my travel trail I've named "Discovery" --- well, "Discovery II", to be exact, as I traded in the first Discovery, also a Lance 1685 travel trailer, in early 2015 to get a newer version with a setup for 4-season living and solar panels for boondocking, i.e., living off the grid. I have a few backpacks planned along the way, so as it's been a few years since I've carried a backpack  with tent and sleeping bag, I thought I'd set the tent up inside my house. Why? Because the tent, a North Face Tadpole single person one, hasn't been used in years, and I wanted to make sure it was still in working order. And I also needed to know if I remembered how to set it up; I didn't want to find out that I forgot when I was out in the woods, and spend an hour with tent poles flying in all directions. As you can see from the photo, all's well that ends well -- 

The sleeping bag, backpack, and sleeping pad are still good to go, too, but I will have to figure out how to use the MSR stove as I bought it, but never got around to actually using it. But the backcountry areas I'm considering going into are challenging and beautiful. I've been to a few before -- NE Nevada's Jarbidge Mountains, the Ruby Mtns south of Elko, Mt. Moriah in the Snake Range just north of Great Basin Nat'l Park and, time and weather permitting, the glorious Convict Canyon near Mammoth Lakes in the eastern Sierra -- but I'm also keeping my options open as to new hikes, too. My last backpack was about 10 years ago, and I camped at the trailheads in my truck's camper shell, but time and age have made climbing out of the back of the truck early in the morning a task that my back no longer handles as well as before, so it will be a real joy to come back to a house on wheels, with an actual shower and four walls. Can you tell I'm really looking forward to this trip? And another thing that's changed from those backpacking days of long ago -- I live in the fabulous Chiricahuas, and have Faranuf. Before I was living in southern California along the coast, and it was never fun to run the "freeway gauntlet" of crossing the LA basin to get home. Now, I live in an area where there's no traffic, and it's easy-peasy to get back home, though a little bit longer of a drive. But knowing I'm coming back to Portal and the east side of the Chiricahuas makes any minor inconveniences worthwhile.

The day before I took off, it's as if the weather was saying "don't go, look at what you'll be missing!" --

And the sunset was even more spectacular -- 

But I know it will still be there, waiting for me...

Day One of North To Alaska was, well, uneventful, which as I'm just driving to Tucson, about 150 miles to the west, is a good thing.  I left Faranuf at 6am -- 

There was, thankfully, no dust storms in the San Simon Valley along Interstate 10. If it's windy, the dust from empty land, along with acres of pistachio and pecan orchards along the interstate, can create conditions where there are actually signs along the road warning to pull over and turn off your lights if the warning lights are blinking. And now that much of the land is being ripped up  to make room for MORE water-intensive orchards, there's even more dirt to be blown around. But on this day, it was calm, and the views ranged for miles. The 2 rest stops along the interstate before Benson have been closed for months, but now they've been reopened; here's my favorite (because of the scenery, not the quality of the bathrooms), in the Dragoon Mountains' Texas Canyon -- 

I had to stop in Tucson to have a leaky propane line fixed. (I just found out it's the propane regulator.) When I was at Texas's High Island I'd noticed a propane smell near the propane tanks, then a hissing. Not good. I futzed with the lines and the hissing stopped, but apparently it was still leaking, and I may have been lucky that nothing happened on the long trip back home like, theoretically, an explosion. When I lent Discovery to Rob and Deb, my friends who own the Rodeo Tavern, Rob, in doing a pre-trip check, found it was still leaking, so he couldn't use the propane tanks. Luckily they weren't out with the trailer for a long time, but I HAD to get it taken care of before the Alaska trip, otherwise no stove, and, without electricity, no refrigerator. So about a week before I made an appointment at Lazy Days RV in Tucson to have it checked and repaired. And Lazy Days is a Lance dealer, too; the closest to me in Portal, though still over 150 miles away. It's a huge place; whenever I have to get the trailer serviced, I drive around trying to find the service center, which is a pain when you're pulling the trailer, but Lazy Days is as big, and as planned-out, as a small city, so in no time I dropped the trailer, told the service rep what I needed to have done -- and now I'm at my niece's apartment, doing this blog entry. I'll be picking up Discovery tomorrow (Thursday) morning, and head out for the REAL start of North To Alaska With Discovery. Meanwhile, I smell a Panda Express down the road. Well there isn't one in Portal...