With a late sunset, it'd been 11:00pm by the time the last of the light faded from the sky and we finally fell asleep, but not before I'd set my alarm for 4:45am so I could catch what I hoped would be a dramatic sunrise on the edge of the serpentine canyon carved by the Owyhee River.
Wishing that the darkness had lasted just a little longer, I pulled on my clothes and climbed out of the tent, grabbing every bit of camera gear I could muster. My hope was that that I'd timed the light perfectly - allowing me to snap a few shots of camp and the canyon - so that I could climb back into bed for another couple hours of sleep!
Good morning, gorge!
I always love the contrast between the fluid form of the canyon and the angular volcanic walls.
A private showing.
As far as the eye can see.
So easy to navigate, from above.
In the end, I'm not sure if I'd gotten up at the perfect time, but I was wrapping up just as the sun started to rise and shadows began to creep across the land. With only the pinkest of rays on the eastern side of the tent, I snapped my last shot and snuggled down under the comforter; it was 5:15am.
Good night, sun.
I figured we'd be up an hour later, but it wasn't until 7:30am that I woke from what can only be described as a pre-breakfast nap. The sun - having raced high into the sky by now - warmed the tent, a sure indication that we were in for another hot day. It was time to get a move on!
After a quick breakfast - cereal and strawberries - and with the tent packed up, we were just about to climb into the cab when @mrs.turbodb mentioned that the swingout didn't seem to be closing correctly. There's really only one thing that can go wrong with the swingout, and having run into the issue several years earlier when we were exploring the Mojave Preserve, I knew immediately that the u-bolt on the latch had broken.
The last time this happened, I'd contacted Destaco - the latch manufacturer - after CBI had been no help at all, and they'd been awesome, sending me two replacement u-bolts on their own dime. I'd installed the first one immediately, stowing the second in my kit should the issue ever pop up again.
An easy fix.
Ten minutes later we were on the trail, headed across the green, and toward the southern end of the Owyhee Canyon Wilderness Study Area (WSA). We made good time for about five minutes before spotting a car that we'd seen the previous afternoon, still parked in the same place on the side of the road. We hadn't done much investigating at the time, but noticing that the driver's window was down and the seats were packed with suitcases, we thought it'd be a good idea to pull over and have a closer look.
Definitely not normal.
Update: after emailing the Bureau of Land Management (BLM) on our return, they've sent someone out to evaluate the situation. Hopefully we're looking at an abandoned car, and not a missing person(s) situation.
The rest of our trip - to the southern end of the WSA - was uneventful, the roads fading in and out depending frequency of travel; the wildlife in these parts outnumbering humans by a wide margin. Eventually, after following the river for a mile or so, we came to a gravel bar and crossing that would shuttle us to the opposite bank.
A lesser-traveled segment.
A baby pronghorn - cruising along at a swift 28mph - doing his part to keep the roads nicely defined.
South Fork Owyhee River crossing.
Well, we could have shuttled across the river, but I'd mapped out a route that kept us on the south west side of the water - for now - so we retraced a couple miles of trail before racing south toward NV-266 - a nicely graded road that would usher us through much of the Duck Valley Indian Reservation and to the town of Owyhee, NV where we could fuel up the Tacoma for the second half of our journey.
I couldn't help but to stop and take a photo of this sign. So important in this day when our public lands are under threat of being sold off and privatized. (1) (2) (3)
After driving through rolling grasslands all morning, the protruding basalt of Wilson Peak was a nice change as we neared Owyhee Road.
Named in honor of Jimmie Wilson, one of the early settlers of the area, Wilson Peak is the 2nd highest peak in the Bull Run mountain range, surpassed only by Porter Peak a few miles to the north. Covered by sagebrush and steppe grasslands typical of the area, it rises 2,400' above the Owyhee River, to a height of 8,415 feet.
Around the base of Wilson Peak, the Arrowleaf Balsomroot (top left), pink phlox (bottom left), and Foothill Death Camas (Toxicoscordion paniculatum) (right) were in full spring regale.
By now it was almost noon, and though our stomachs were growling, we couldn't help ourselves but to continually pull to the side of the road as we headed north toward Owyhee. First, it was for wildlife, next for a spectacular view of Devil's Gap, and finally for a fleeting field of yellow - with a a delicate purple border - flowers. We really had come at the right time of year!
The gopher snakes were out and about in force this time!
Devil's Gap.
Purple and gold; feels like home.
Eventually we rolled into Owyhee - the temperature creeping into the mid-80s °F - and found a nice shady picnic table at Our Grocery Store (which also the gas station) where we could enjoy our PB&J sandwiches, chips, and in my case, a nice big bowl of cold milk and Wheat Chex! Munching our way through lunch, people watching was the name of the game, this little oasis the only place for nearly 100 miles in any direction to restock on supplies or fuel up a vehicle for adventure.
Still, knowing that we still had a lot of ground to cover - and as our core temperatures heated up even in the shade - we repacked the fridge and climbed into the cab for an afternoon that would take us into the higher - and thus pleasantly cooler - elevations of the Independence Mountains.
Prior to a short stint on NV-225, we hadn't seen any Mormon Crickets, but from that point east, they seemed to be almost everywhere!
I'd mapped several routes through the Independence Mountains, my hope being that we could criss-cross them a few times - mostly on north-south corridors - in order to get a good sense of what they had to offer, ultimately finding camp on Big Table or Timber Gulch, overlooking the Bruneau River, below. This plan was entirely too ambitious for a single afternoon, but then, that's not unusual and we somehow make it work.
Heading up the first trail that would take us into the mountains, it wasn't long before we encountered some steep, sloppy conditions.
Wetter areas were thick with White Mules Ears (Wyethia helianthoides), which we'd previously thought was just white Arrowleaf Balsomroot!
We aborted our first attempt at heading north towards McDonalds Mine when the road got too washed out and sloppy to be a sure thing. That's not to say we couldn't have made it - and I answered in the affirmative when @mrs.turbodb asked if I'd have continued on if I'd been alone - but over the years I've found that it's much more enjoyable when we're both comfortable with the terrain, so choosing one of three alternative routes north seemed like an easy decision at the time.
To get there, we'd need to sweep our way around the southern flanks of the range, a road I'd wanted to run anyway later in the afternoon. This too was far from a sure thing, neither Gaia GPS nor the BLM signboard we found at Rocky Point indicating that the loop I'd created from Sunflower Flat was actually a through route!
Back into more familiar terrain at Rocky Point.
Any help on an ID for this white wildflower we saw along the way?
(Perhaps Yampa, Perideridia sp.)
To our delight, not only did the road I'd mapped - primarily to see a ruin I'd spotted on satellite imagery - go through, but along the way we crossed a small tributary to Warm Creek. With just enough water to make the crossing fun - and a gravelly enough bottom to alleviate any concern of road or stream damage - I got @mrs.turbodb setup with the camera and instructions to "hold the button down" once I hit the water.
Wheeeeee!
A few runs through the creek worked wonders to clean a bit of the dust off the Tacoma - if only for a few minutes - at which point we pulled into the old Jenkins Place, ready to poke around.
The main ranch house was still structurally in good shape. Inside was an entirely different story.
The barn was showing its age; it won't be standing much longer!
Thrilled that we'd made it through a questionable section of trail, the next order of business was a second attempt at the McDonald Mine. An hour north - and nearly 1,000 feet higher in elevation - this gave @mrs.turbodb the perfect opportunity for her afternoon nap, and me the ability to stop as frequently as I pleased, to capture the distant snow-capped peaks as we climbed toward the sky.
Our My first peek at the Jarbidge Mountains.
Scouting the McDonald Mine in satellite imagery before we'd left, I had a good idea that there wouldn't be much to see when we finally arrived, and while I hoped there might be some machinery or cabins buried in the surrounding forest, my online analysis was correct; there were only a few decaying waste rock piles to indicate the past existence of gold and silver prospect.
Rather than continuing along the McDonald Mine loop - one that wrapped around Enright Hill and turned out to be designated for 50-inch wide (or narrower) ATVs, motorcycles, and such - we popped back out to the main road and decided to work our way up to higher elevations below Merritt Mountain. This was the northern terminus of the road that'd turned us around on the south end, and we thought it'd be fun to see how high it climbed, hoping we might run into a patch of snow to play in before continuing on our way.
Gaining a ridge at just over 7,360 feet, we were blown away by the views.
"Maybe we should just camp here,"
I said to @mrs.turbodb as I opened up the door to snap off a few photos. "Whatever you want," she replied, happy to sneak in a few more minutes of shut-eye as we continued to whatever the highpoint of the road turned out to be.
"Get out of the truck, but we're not camping here," I notified her a few minutes later. "Walk into the grass and listen."
It was one of the creepiest sounds ever. The knoll we were parked on was covered in a river of Mormon Crickets, the little buggers scurrying through the grass in a circle that moved around us. While it was reassuring that they were getting away from us - at least initially - it was still enough to make our skin crawl as we smiled one of those uncomfortable smiles before climbing back into the Tacoma.
Pro tip: Mormon Crickets are climbers, and they'll climb anything, natural or not. Camp in their midst only if you'd like to wake up to them nestled next to you in the tent.
Still hopeful that we could find something at this higher elevation to call home for the night, we continued on, eventually reaching the high point of the road - and a patch of snow perfect for a snowball fight - at just over 7,900 feet. The views here were even better, but there were still crickets on the ground, so it too was rejected from a long-term perspective.
We'd looped around Porter Peak - snow covered in the distance - just before lunch; another long day.
Also at the top of the ridge - in a pull out next to the snow, and just past a burned-out patch of shrubbery - sat a burned out UTV. As far as we could determine, they'd pulled off the road and into the shrubs - even though there were plenty of wide, rocky areas where they would do less damage - to let someone pass. Their hot exhaust lit the dry vegetation on fire, causing them to race away from their "watch my UTV go anywhere pull-out" to get away from the flames. Only as they stopped to wonder how they were going to extinguish the ground fire they'd started did they realize that it'd caught some bit of their UTV - perhaps some rubber or plastic bits on fire. And by then, all they could do was watch as the whole thing burned to the ground.
The best kind of UTV: one that's been destroyed by its owner's stupidity.
After making several snide remarks about how I hoped the UTV would burn in hell for eternity, and wondering how the occupants got off the hill, it was time to figure out our plan for the evening.
A Rant About UTVs (since I'm sure my statements on the topic may seem crude to some)
I've seen a lot of destruction from UTVs, some of it "after it's done" and some of it "as I was watching." In my experience, a much higher percentage of UTVs exhibit this behavior than 4x4s. In my experience, the percentage isn't "a few," but is "most." But again, I recognize that what I've seen could vary from what others have seen.
I think the problem that UTVs exacerbate is manyfold, but three of the biggest issues are ease of access to places that are sensitive, lack of education about how to treat those special places, and a sense of entitlement that's seemed to pervade our society these days.
Ease of access - Before UTVs, building up a vehicle that could go deep into the wild without falling apart was a laborious affair. Usually starting with a Jeep or similar, the owner would work for hours to upgrade suspension, tires, fabricated steel armor, and drivelines. Recovery tools would be acquired, their usage learned, and then packed into the rig along with fuel and other supplies for the inevitable breakdown that would happen at some point. All of this would be done under the watchful eye of older and more experienced off-roaders.
But UTVs changed all that. With a good bit of money, anyone could purchase a purpose-built machine that far exceeds the capabilities of all but the most extreme 4x4 builds. The rig is acquired in a matter of minutes, sold with the promise that "it will get you anywhere you want to go," and the keys are delivered with no education whatsoever. It's no wonder then that the drivers make liberal use of the skinny pedal, ignore signage to stay on trails, and lack all context of how to respectfully behave when driving their new "life-sized remote-control car."
How to treat the outdoors - In the days before smartphones and social media, families got away from the toils of every day life by going on vacations with each other, and - though it's hard to fathom - sometimes even with other families! On these excursions, parents would teach their kids how to play in the dirt, build forts, and fish. Junior Ranger programs would award stickers and patches for picking up litter or identifying a handful of plants and animals throughout the campground. Years of exposure to the magic of nature would instill a sense of ownership and understanding of how it was important to treat the outdoors respectfully so it could be enjoyed by others and into the future.
As screens have assumed the role of entertainer and babysitter, and as parents have focused their own devices and social media accounts, many kids have missed out on the experiences of previous generations. Their exposure to the outdoors is - initially - through the unrealistically perfect feed they see on Instagram, a series of places that should be ticked off a list in order to garner as many "likes" as possible. And what quicker way to do that with a UTV, sold to them as the quickest way to "get there." No education required.
Entitlement - There is no question that in today's society, a sense of entitlement has taken hold like never before. This sense that, "I'm special, so I can/should do whatever I want," when combined with UTV ownership exacerbates the issues I've mentioned above. "I paid for this UTV, I should be able to use it to its limits," and "I'm driving this UTV on my public lands," are just two of the things I've heard from drivers.
Sigh.
And again - this is not to say that all UTV drivers are a problem. In fact, I consider myself lucky to have become friends with two seasoned explorers of the Owyhee - Kenny and John - who do so responsibly in a UTV. I'd argue that - like them - those who have previously been exploring the outdoors for decades in self-built 4x4 vehicles - or even ATVs - and who have migrated to a UTV as they've gotten older, are likely to continue to treat the outdoors with respect and use their machines responsibly. But those folks are far from the majority of UTV pilots these days.
I love these signs, but I'm open to other solutions.
It's Easy to Complain
It's easy to complain about without ever working toward a solution. It's rewarded by social media, where keyboard commandos who yell the loudest have their posts and comments blown up in order to maximize the number of minutes people are stuck death scrolling. To actually be useful, we need to move past those complaints to solutions.
What I do think would be OK/good - is to recognize that there is a problem, and try to address it. I'd actually be OK with addressing it across all offroad vehicles (4x4s included) because I think that in the last few years, the percentage of uneducated 4x4s has increased dramatically as well - as folks have gone Instalander crazy, just out to get a cool photo in an amazing place; not really understanding that in doing so irresponsibly, they are doing lots of damage.
I'm also not saying that UTVs should necessarily be banned. But working out a way to educated their drivers before allowing them to drive away from the trailhead? That sounds OK. Needing a license to go out, and having acquisition of that license entail some education (like a driver's license, or Ham operator license)... seems like a good idea. Maybe there are more good ideas. Better ideas even.
And again, this education could be for everyone. It might seem unnecessary for the old hats, but hey, in that case, it'd be easy to pass. I'd happily trade that easy license, for the hope that it would help get others to be a little more educated.
Looking at the map, @mrs.turbodb noticed that - rather than heading back down the hill to the spot I'd planned to camp - we could continue a little further to a fork that climbed nearly to the summit of Merritt Mountain. Sure to offer fantastic views and cooler temperatures - but unsure if we'd be stopped by snow - I was game to give it a try, and a few minutes later we were on our way up!
We didn't hit snow until 8,600 feet. But when we did, there was no question that we were done.
So close to the top!
Curious as to the summit, we set the emergency brake and left the Tacoma in gear as we picked our way through the snow drifts to the summit of Mini Merritt Mountain, a few hundred feet below - and a quarter mile south - of the named peak. There, an old radio shack sat perched at the top, a commanding 360° view of the Owyhee below.
8,600 feet above Owyhee.
By the time we were done identifying peaks, glassing a distant fire, and pointing out the route we'd taken through the lands that unfolded below us, it was 6:00pm. Technically we could have worked our way back down the mountain, but with pleasant temperatures and no Mormon Crickets (!) - we realized we'd never get a better view then the one we had up here. Or at least, almost up here.
In a high meadow of not-yet-blooming Arrowleaf Balsomroot, we found the perfect place to call home.
Merritt Mountain flower garden.
Fleabane (left) | Low Cryptantha (center left) | Bluebells (center right) | Larkspur (right)
Snowy sunstar.
All manner of bugs were kept at bay as a warm breeze swept across the mountain meadow as we prepped dinner. Fresh corn was a nice addition to our usual guacamole-heavy taco-rittoes and mere minutes after everything was warmed on the tailgate, our bellies reaped the rewards.
We still had hours before the sun would set, but for us, it was time to head upstairs to bed.
A Porter Peak view from the front porch.
Though we hadn't gotten as far as we'd hoped, we'd had an amazing day. We had one more before heading home, one that would reveal secrets of the Owyhee and test our nerves along the way!
The Whole Story
Oh yeah...another great trip. Gorgeous.
Re the white unidentified white flower....looks to me like Yampa., Perideridia sp., very important to the native peoples for it's edible root.
Also, I think the Plant you called Meadow Death Camas, Zigadenus (now Toxicoscordion) venenosum is actually Toxicoscordion paniculatum, Panicled or Foothill Death Camas.
Refer to Calphotos for photos of these plants.
Uncle #! UJ
Glad you enjoyed as always! And thanks as always for the IDs!
Another beautiful journey through the spectacular views of the springtime greenery in the Owyhees. Very peaceful without all the town traffic and crazy drivers.
The problem with people today is that we have lost all common sense and have let social media overtake the people of all ages. I am saddened by the disconnect between family and friends as they spend all their time on the phone scrolling through nothingness.
They are missing out on the best time of their life by being connected with people and nature. Unfortunately, there are no easy answers to break the addiction to the phone. What will be their future? What will be America's future?
Sadly, you are correct about a lot of the ATVs and UTVs that abuse the outdoors (again, no common sense) or go off trail and leading to more closures of our lands because of their poor choices. Personally I have always stayed on the trails as there are plenty of things to see on trail. Neither do I trespass on posted trails unless I ask first.
The sense of entitlement is out of control, I believe, mostly caused by the media and the parents' lack of discipline. Hopefully, we can change this through education.
Okay enough ranting,
It is time to get out and enjoy the nature God have provided for us!
Kenny
I agree with you, 100% Kenny on your painting of the situation.
As we’ve discussed together, folks like yourself are definitely not the problem, and the reality is that it’s not limited to UTVs, either.
I think the most important element of your comment is the one that we should always keep in mind, which is that we should get out there and enjoy the beauty around us. In this day and age, we tend to focus too much on the negative.
Stay safe out there!
Got to agree with you on the ATV/UTV situations. They ruined an area close to me and the land owner finally stopped any access on his property. Now the only way to explore his area of old house sites is on foot.
Found your plant on Google lens. It thinks it is a Bulblet-bearing Water Hemlock (Cicuta bulbifera).
Great views and really like the flying camera view. Thanks guys!!
Thanks for the plant identification Bill, I will check that out! I love that folks like you can help to educate me on this stuff.
Thanks for this and your other posts on the Owyhee area. Its kind of in my backyard now so using your posts to plan trips there.
I have seen the same thing with ATV/UTV users having higher incidents of causing land abuse. It is particularly bad in areas that offer large rental fleets of ATVs (Southern Utah comes to mind). Moab area in particular has suffered.
Hope you have a good time out there, there’s so much to see and it’s all great.
It’s getting a bit toasty these days, but I find that the short period between the impossible mud and golden grass is some of the best exploring of the high desert Available in the west.
Moab is a great example of UTV destruction, and I know they are trying to do a few things to reduce that, but it seems like it’s a losing battle at this point.