Monday, September 9, 2019

TotSW: Transition to Flagstaff

All too soon, it was time to move on from the Mojave.  Clearly the universe thought we ought to stay:  as we approached the freeway, it was clear that there was a horrible line of non-moving truck traffic as far as the eye could see on the main road.  At this point, I had one rogue bar of cell service, and was able to check conditions on my phone -- I40 was closed a bit to the east due to a crash, and had been for over an hour.  No way we were getting in that horrible line of non-moving trucks, so I looked for an alternative.

The obvious choice was to cross the freeway and take a paved road that paralleled the freeway for most of the traffic mess, but alas that road was closed because there was a bridge out.  The only other choice was to turn around and follow an unnamed dirt road across the desert north of the freeway to a junction with Old Route 66 near the town of Fenner.

The road was benign at first.

However, as is the way of these things, it got lumpier and lumpier as we started to hit washes that needed to be crossed.  By the time we got close to town, all our attention was focussed on routing the truck up and down 8 to10 foot sandy embankments of said washes.  Chad happily engaged all of the truck tricks to make that happen.  

Eventually we made it back to civilization.  At this point, we could have hopped back on I-40, but following Old Route 66 for a bit longer was clearly going to be more jolly than getting in the line of traffic.

We crossed the Colorado and headed into AZ.  After admiring Topock Marsh,

we found ourselves on the "Route 66 Back Country Byway" to Oatman -- a funny old mining town that has reinvented itself as a tourist trap whose present claim to fame is the burros roaming freely down the main road.

One has to slow down to not run over the burros...or the tourists.  Fortunately, we were already in slo-mo mode for the day.

One should always pick the routes designated as back country byways; in this case, the road wound its way up past Oatman on the steep and spectacular route over Sitgreaves Pass.  We stopped to take a break at the top (unfortunately past the most spectacular part of the road).


The landscape definitely now looked like Arizona to my eyes.

At a certain point, we did defect to the main highway because we were getting tired of sitting in the truck.  We rolled into Flagstaff mid-afternoon, got cleaned up, and then walked into the old town area to find some dinner.  Dinner critera:  Chad wanted a brewpub with a good beer selection, kid wanted dessert.  I wanted food that I didn't have to cook over a campstove.  Fortunately, this is easy to achieve in Flagstaff.   (Featured below: happy teen with caramel pudding in a mason jar)

On the way back to the motel, we walked by this intersection, which has always struck me as being an intersection so very full of potential -- I remember it from when I lived here before the kiddo was born.  There are so many choices of things to explore from here!

Friday, September 6, 2019

TotSW: Mojave National Preserve

I love the moment of waking up in the morning at a campsite after having come in on the late side the night before, when one finally has a chance to really look at the surroundings and realize how stunning said surroundings are.  In this case, it was still light (barely) when we arrived in camp the previous evening, but in our rush to make dinner and get the tent set up, I didn't really pay attention to what the campsite looked like.  Morning light revealed big views peeking through the protective shade of the pines and juniper that grow at this elevation.  

The area around the Mid-Hills campground burned in 2005, but we were lucky enough to get one of the sites off the edge of the fire boundary that still had larger trees.  One of the great things about choosing non-"name brand" parks is that despite being just as gorgeous and interesting as some more well-known places, they can be almost empty.  In this case, we had no reservations but could just drive up and have our pick of sites, even in the campground.  (We were prepared to dry-camp in the backcountry, as is allowed here, if we didn't like the choices in the campground, but didn't need to do that after all.)

Another view from the site, with the broad almost perfectly symmetrical Cima Dome in the background.  The dome is an erosional feature left after an older granitic outcrop wore away, and is so broad that despite its almost 2000 foot height, it can be difficult to see except from a distance.  The small pockmark hills on its edge are cinder cones that grew in later.

After breakfast, it was time to explore.  Dirt roads are plentiful in this preserve.

The truck was quite happy in these surroundings as I navigated us to our hike.  

Cattle also seem happy in these parts.  

We got an early start on our hike at Hole-in-the-Wall, as the weather was expected to be hot.  On the way to the canyon, Chad noticed some petroglyphs on a boulder.

Heading into the entrance of Banshee Canyon, the rocks look very promising.

The rock here is mostly volcanic tuff, which has eroded out into jolly patterns.  Look closely for Chad in the second photo.
 

Birds also like the eroded-out pockets in the tuff.  See if you can spot the nestlings, whose parents wheeled above us on this section of the trail, skreeing loudly.

Shortly after the section with the entertaining birds, the canyon narrowed

and we discovered why this was called the "Rings Trail".

I chose not to use the rings.  More entertaining that way!  Welded volcanic tuff provides a friendly surface to climb on, as traction is good and there is a plentitude of firmly-attached inclusions to grab on to.  Hero rock, it is.

Silly Monsters at the top.

I couldn't help but notice that there was great potential for playing on the boulders

and couldn't resist, despite the fact that I had deliberately not brought climbing shoes, lest I leave the others bored.

Lounging in the sun.  I could have easily played in this section near the parking lot all day.

However, it seemed wise to get out of the sun, so we headed over to the visitor's center at Kelso depot and found a shady place to have lunch.  Kid gets crazo after calories are inserted.

Kelso Depot is a old Union Pacific railway station on the line out to Southern California, originally built because it was a convenient place to store the helper engines needed to get trains up the 2% grade of nearby Cima Dome.  Two percent doesn't sound like much, but getting heavy trains up 2000 feet at that grade in the era of steam engines was hard.  This location also was close to a reliable spring, providing necessary water.

After lunch, we poked around inside and read about the rail history of the area.

Old post office.

Since it was hot, we then went searching for a cooler hike.  Maybe a nice shady cave?
There is a lava tube here somewhere. (and lots of cinder cones)

Where is it?

Looks promising...

A civilized entrance.

Is it cooler inside?

Yes -- but avoid the bees!
 

The obligatory "It's hard to take photos in a cave" shot.

 This lava tube is very close to the surface, and has a series of skylights.  We liked the shafts of light pouring down.


 We tried to not kick up too much dust, but the dust did make the beams of light stand out.

All too soon, we were back on the surface.  Now exactly where was that lava tube again?

With the afternoon's heat still in full force, we chose to take a dirt "shortcut" along the Old Mojave Road on the way back to camp.  Shorter in distance, longer in time -- it gave us an excuse to stay in the air-conditioned truck.

The Old Mojave Road follows a historic route across the preserve, and the section we drove was an easy 4WD jaunt through the desert, at least under present conditions.  I really want to ride this route on a bike sometime.  At 150-ish miles for the whole thing, it'd take some careful planning:  one would have to arrange a shuttle, cache some water, and choose the right season (not too hot, not too cold, flash flood danger minimized, etc...).  One might want to acquire or borrow a fat bike, as some sections are quite sandy.
 
Jolly trail marker.

The road may look benign here, but whenever the route crosses perpendicular to the prevailing drainage direction, there are many, many, many dips across washes.  This is slow going.

Nice view back to the Kelso Dunes.  We thought about hiking over there, but the thought of climbing a 650 foot sand dune in almost hundred-degree heat seemed dumb.  Save it for another trip.

It was sort of fitting that we had to stop for a train to go by once we made it back to the paved road.  Said train was heading out up Cima Grade from Keldo Depot.

Chad and I enjoyed a walk in the waning light back at the campground after dinner.  There was definitely a temptation to bail on the rest of the vacation plans and just rattle around the Mojave for a couple of weeks -- the preserve is large, scenic, filled with interesting historical stuff to explore, and almost empty of people at that time of year.