Day Three, Between Barstow and Lone Pine

I left Barstow about 5 AM, thinking that would give me time to get clear of traffic and get out in the desert to catch the sunrise. But, I was on vacation so being tardy isn't an actionable offense. It was just a bit farther than I expected, that's all.

This "near sunrise" was shot on the Trona - Wild Rose Rd and captured what I was looking for, the golden hour, a little lens flare, and a descriptive foreground.

As the sun got higher the lighting conditions got harder. This view of the Panamint Valley was taken coming out of the hills and looking towards Ballarat. Now, I didn't actually see it, but I read the historical marker. Founded as a supply base for local mines in 1896 or '97 because of a reliable nearby water source in use since the 1850's it was named by an Aussie immigrant for Ballarat, Victoria. In the eight years between then and 1905 the town had a population approaching 500, seven saloons, three hotels, a Wells Fargo station, a Post Office, a school, a jail, and a morgue - but no churches.

 I think of that pyramid-looking hill center stage as California's answer to Zeto Point, a peninsula 3 mi off the approach end of runway 23 on Adak. That was my first impression when I saw it 10 years ago. Now, a feature of the Mojave Desert reminding me of anything in Adak, Alaska strikes me as preposterous. Anyhow, this Zeto Point is about three mi north of Nadeau Trail (CA-190) where Panamint Valley Rd comes to an end.

Speaking of which, this is that very intersection looking east, where the road disappears into the mountains separating Death Valley from Panamint Valley. Up there (down there) the town of Furnace Creek, Headquarters and Visitors Center for Death Valley NP, has an elevation of 190 ft below sea level and the 2010 population was 24. The town has the record for the highest recorded temperature in the world,  134° on July 10, 1913, but of course, some meteorologists don't buy the accuracy of the 1913 measurement. Also, a ground temperature of 201° was recorded in Furnace Creek on July 15, 1972 and may be the highest natural ground surface temperature ever recorded. It can get hot.

These two shots both just happen to feature the same Joshua tree from the same angle, but there were plenty to choose from. I just wanted to get some shots without getting too far from my car (and water). Joshua Tree NP probably has better examples, but it's twice as far south of here as yesterday's Mojave National Preserve. These will have to do.

My first view this trip of Mt Whitney, topping out at 14,505 ft, the highest point in the contiguous United States. I spent the day fascinated  by it - all the views looked the same except for the foreground and middle ground. The surface elevation of nearby Owens Lake is 3,556 ft almost 11,000 ft lower than the peak.

I was so glad for the clear skies. Normally I'm hoping for interesting clouds for the pictures, but I would have been distraught had Mt Whitney been obscured even by interesting clouds. I like how, in this shot, the rust color of the hill intruding from the left matches the telephone pole perfectly. But then, I'm not very hard to please.

It was about here I became aware of the roar of Navy F/A-18 fighters that provided the continuing sound track for my visit to the Lone Pine area. I had forgotten from my time at NAS Lemoore that the footprint of the Military Operating Area (MOA) east of Mt Whitney was essentially the same as the footprint of the northern Mojave Desert itself.

Tomorrow's post will cover my possibly rash decision to shrug off my tether to the car and wander off on the trail to the Mobius Arch.

California Road Trip, Days One and Two

I think I'll try to turn over a new leaf for this series and show a few more pictures than usual and perhaps not write quite so much as usual. I said I'll try, so we'll have to see how it goes. I left Austin on May 14th and returned the evening of May 23. I spent the first night in Socorro, New Mexico, about 70 mi south of Albuquerque, and the second night in Barstow, California, a little more than half way between Las Vegas and Bakersfield.

These two pictures of the New Mexico landscape were taken about half way between Roswell and Socorro as I entered Lincoln County. . . you know, the Lincoln County Wars? Pat Garret and Billy the Kid? The view above is looking towards Albuquerque and the one below towards Socorro. I really just stopped for a few minutes because I was tired of driving. Austin to Socorro is 665 mi and took about 11 hrs.

I left Socorro at 4:20 AM, headed for Arizona, and sunrise was  about 6:06. The shot above (looking ENE) was taken at 4:30, shortly after I got out of Socorro. I still haven't figured out why it was so bright, even in that direction. It was much darker ahead and to either side of the highway, but my eyes were accustomed to the dark and I started noticing cattle here and there as I drove.

It slowly started to lighten with the coming dawn and magically the cattle turned to elk. This picture was brightened a fair amount in post processing and it's a little lighter than it appeared to me when I took it. From the time I realized the critters in the dark were elk (just east of Datil) till I reached the Arizona border (about 90 mi), the countryside seemed to be hosting an Elk convention - one or two here, half a dozen there, and as many as eight or ten some places deeper in the mountains.

My first drive through this area a few years ago, I was heading back to Texas and took a couple sunrise shots as I approached St John's, Arizona. I took this shot headed the opposite direction in approximately the same place, looking NW towards Holbrook. I hadn't slept very well in Socorro, so I took about an hour's nap when I got to Holbrook, then joined I-40. That set me right for the rest of my drive. Traffic was heavy from east of Flagstaff through Kingman, where everybody else seemed to veer off to Las Vegas. I crossed the Colorado River on I-40 south of Needles and stopped in town for a burger and a tank of gas.

An hour west of Needles I turned north into the Mojave National Preserve to see what I could find off the beaten track, as it were. Well, I found just about what one would expect really. That's a Cholla cactus taking up about a third of the frame width - they're a lot bigger here than they were in the Big Bend a couple months ago.

Another Cholla or two here and a typically rocky ridge line for the area, the color of concrete and looking like a dumping area for broken up foundations collected from derelict buildings all over the state.

The picture above shows my first large sand dunes on the trip. They're the Kelso Dunes, named for a very small community about 8 mi farther north. In fact, Kelso is a ghost town that started life as a train depot , blossomed to about 2000 people in the '40s (mostly borax, iron, gold, and silver miners) , and lasted about a decade before most of the residents left.

This is the Kelso train depot, built in the California Mission style in 1923 and operated as such till 1986. It was pretty dilapidated and the railroad was planning to demolish it in the '90s, when it was instead saved by preservationists. Outside the depot there's a strap iron jail brought in by the railroad in the '40s to accommodate local drunks - mining and drinking was about all there was to do, I guess. The only other building there now is the defunct Post Office. The reason the depot looks so terrific is that it's been re-purposed and renovated  as the Mojave National Preserve Visitors Center.

The drive north from Kelso to Baker was pretty much what I'd seen south of the town but having a well maintained road almost to yourself is absolutely wonderful. You can slow down without annoying anyone and study the scenery you're cruising through, and that's worth a lot. From Baker to Barstow I-15 traffic was much heavier, but most of it was heading to Las Vegas, not back to LA.

The Bluebonnets Were Early This Year. . .

. . . and I missed them for the most part. My son, David, forwarded an article he'd read about them and said, "You better get out there and get your pictures," or words to that effect. So I read the article and explained that in this area it was still too early for "the really impressive shots". But it made me think I ought to check the 'Net for signs or even go out and check for myself. That was about March 28th, so I decided I'd check out Burnet Co the 30th.

It didn't take very long to figure out Dave was right, at least on Park Rd 4, around Inks Lake. Maybe they'd be better farther west. So early the next morning I was on the road to Mason Co and when I got there I remembered my drive home from the Big Bend a couple weeks before - the dozens and dozens of deer feeding alongside the highway. . . and I wondered if deer eat bluebonnets. . .

The dearth of bluebonnets notwithstanding, I was still out on a beautiful morning, primed to take pictures and the stiff wind seemed ready to start clearing the low clouds away. Now, if I can only find the right spot.

I did. Ten or fifteen miles south of Mason on US-87, headed towards Fredericksburg I came on a highway cut through a red sandstone (I believe) outcropping that quickly caught my attention. Once out of the car (the metadata says 7:06) I started shooting and kept it up for the next 46 minutes.

Most of the shots are views looking up the cliffs, trying to catch the occasional patches of blue as the clouds tumbled by. Standing there trying to steady my camera, I wondered how strong the wind was and whether, standing in the cut, I was experiencing the venturi effect. Offhand, I'd say I was.

These cactus blossoms surprised me (pleasantly) for two reasons: first of all, they were pink - and I don't remember ever seeing pink ones - I'd have expected yellow ones; and second, they looked like roses - and I'd expected cup-shaped flowers. Will wonders never cease?

The cliffs extended about 20 feet above the road surface on both sides of the highway and the cut may have been close to a 1/4 mile long.

The light was constantly changing, another effect of the wind pushing the cloud cover out of the way.

It was dynamic, and invigorating; I was proud to have kept my feet, recalling my crash landing in Yellowstone and my tumble a few months later in the Great Smokies (both in 2014).

As I mentioned, I spent 46 minutes in this cut and I could have kept shooting longer but I realized at one point that I'd recrossed the road and shooting again a section I'd already covered. It was time to move on. I continued down to Fredericksburg, which was packed with people, and moved on through town, up to the Willow City Loop off TX-16. I saw a few Longhorns on the loop, but they had already drawn enough attention to cause a small traffic jam so I departed as quickly as possible.

 I skipped a run past Enchanted Rock based on the number of tourists in Fredericksburg . Up in Llano Co I cut over to US-281 and home via Marble Falls FM-1431. I'd pretty much missed the bluebonnets and didn't see much to shoot other than the highway cut, but it was a good day nonetheless.