For years we've travelled south to explore the Mojave. More times that I can count, we've cruised south - and north again - along US-395 through the Owens Valley or followed US-95 through Nevada. On every one of these, we've passed by the White Mountains, their sharp peaks - often dusted in snow - reaching high into the sky.
And yet, even as we've stopped to explore areas near these mountains, we've never taken the time to wander into them. This trip would change all of that. We'd finally discover what we'd been missing, as we wandered the White Mountains.
The Champion Spark Plug (Jeffrey) Mine
The Champion Andalusite Mine, also known as the Jeffrey Mine, is one of the world's most unusual mines. Not only was it unique geographically, but also was its mining method. In the 1920s, the Champion mine was the only commercial source of andalusite known in the world, a remarkable fact considering that andalusite is a mineral common in many metamorphic rocks. Andalusite is an aluminum silicate mineral, which the Champion Sillimanite Company of Detroit, Michigan, processed to manufacture high temperature refractory materials such as automobile spark plugs and chemical laboratory porcelain. Andalusite has long since been replaced by a synthetic refractory material called mullite.
Mining History and Economic Geology of the White Mountains, Inyo and Mono Counties, California
It was hot as we landed in Las Vegas and provisioned the Tacoma for a trip that would take us to the northern end of Owens Valley and the first day of our White Mountains adventure. Here at what we would normally consider high elevations - in the 6,000-to-9,000 feet above sea level range - temperatures were still blistering hot. More than 100°F during the day on the valley floor, we approached our camp-at-the-trailhead destination just as the sun was hiding itself behind the Sierra, temperatures dropping into the mid-80s °F overnight!
Weather guessers are coming up with new names for everything. On this particular outing, we found ourselves arriving under our first "heat dome."
The following morning...
Even before the trip started, I'd warned @mrs.turbodb that our first hike - to the Champion Spark Plug Mine - would be a doozy. I wasn't sure if it'd be harder than the endless climb to the Hanging Valley Mine on the opposite side of the valley, but I knew that climbing 4,500 feet in order to gain 3,000 feet over a 3.6-mile distance would be grueling at best.
Unfortunately, my warnings seemed to work too well, and I could tell that there was some hesitation in my usually-game-to-give-it-a-go hiking partner as we climbed out of the tent just before sunrise. Hoping to set her at ease as we started to work our way up the trail, I mentioned, "The temperature seems pretty nice now."
"That's what has me worried," she replied. "It's only 5:30am and we're in the shade."
Savage. But also, dang, she was right. I put on my best smile, hoped it looked confident, and continued on.
After only a few minutes of hiking, we were already high above the Tacoma in the wash below, and the first light hit the Sierra across the valley.
It wasn't long before we came upon an old staging platform - where ore was once transferred from mules and trucked to the Nevada & California narrow gauge railroad - the first evidence of the mine above us.
We continued gaining elevation quickly as we followed a series of telephone poles up the canyon. Technically we were on an old mining road for this leg of the journey, but enough time has passed in this rugged terrain that - at times - it seemed that hiking next to the road was easier than hiking on it.
The road climbed in and out of the wash to avoid narrow sections and dry falls, giving us a view further up canyon - and then all the way to the mine workings!
After less than a mile, the road ended altogether. Our angle of approach increased as a narrow foot trail - once used only to service the telephone poles that must have been pure torture to install - seemed to head directly up the mountain. We had no idea at the time, but this would be the "not steep" part of our trek. Still, we were in the shade and the blister forming on @mrs.turbodb's heel wasn't too bad. Yet.
No, seriously, that is the trail.
Surely you can see it now, going straight up the ridge in the center of this shot. 
Along the way, we passed this exactly 100-year-old set of initials, likely of a couple workers at the Champion Spark Plug mine. (E. L. and J. F. from 6/1924)
While there was no shortage of up - we were set to gain 1,500 feet in the first 1.75 miles - a spring-fed creek meant that we were treated to a smorgasbord of lush greenery and sweet-smelling flowers as we picked our way along the trail. Both of us frequently mentioned the smells of various places we visit, but the one of us with a developing blister surely appreciates them more, and we made frequent stops to smell the fragrant trees, warm breeze, and the literal roses.
California Evening Primrose (Oenothera californica) (left). | Wild rose (right).
It was just after 7:00am when I caught a fleeting glimpse of the lower - Black Eagle - camp of the Champion Spark Plug Mine through the trees. We were still a couple hundred vertical feet lower, but after another ten minutes, the neatly hidden camp was clearly visible through the trees.
There you are!
We'd made it! Sort of. Well, technically we were less than halfway - both in distance and elevation - but we'd made it to the camp. And we were still in the shade. We chalked up two wins and wandered into town.
The volunteers have done an amazing job here, and all they ask is that we be respectful and enjoy their labors. This is the world I want to live in.
Our first view of The Hilton; primary living quarters of the Black Eagle Camp today.
The Black Eagle Camp is by far the most extensive and well-preserved mine camp we've ever visited; the volunteers here have done a spectacular job. Starting at what has been dubbed the Hilton, we ended up spending more than an hour wandering around the dozen or so buildings, poking around the various relics that have been collected and catalogued for visitors.
If you ignore the dead batteries in the timepiece, The Hilton is a true luxury experience.
Several fun, modern bits of memorabilia tacked to the walls of the Hilton.
A "cheer you up letter" (left). | Dr. J.A. Jeffrey, owner of the mine (top right). | A sketch of The Hilton from a visitor (bottom right).
We were surprised to see that we were the first visitors in nearly three months!
The Museum - in the middle of camp - is an easy place to whittle away approximately the rest of your life.
Miners at work.
An old vacuum tube radio (left). | What they were mining for up the hill (right).
Behind the museum, a fully fitted kitchen was stocked and ready for action.
With most old mining camps or cabins that we stumble 1,500 feet up a mountain to find, we'd probably check out every single building and avail ourselves of all available outhouses. Today though, as we wandered through camp, the sun peeked over the ridge and almost instantaneously, temperatures seemed to climb by ten degrees. If you were me, it was time to get going, and if you were @mrs.turbodb, it was time to decide whether we should even keep going up...
...because she's the smart one, and there was a lot of "up" we had yet to cover.
I'd been warned that "the trail to the camp seems steep until you hike to the upper mine" but I'm always glutton for punishment, and it was hard to turn around at 8:37am in the morning, so up we went!
It didn't take long for us to be high above camp.
One benefit of our quick ascent was the view it afforded along the way.
Though steep, at least there was a trail to follow as we exited Black Eagle Camp. In fact, for the first few hundred vertical feet, it was a pretty good trail! But then, as the canyon walls got steeper, the meaning behind a note inside The Hilton - "If you're going to the upper mine, look at where it is and head that direction - began to make sense; the trail was gone.
For more than 750 vertical feet, we had to climb - what Google Earth suggests being - a 59.4-degree slope. The hardest part here wasn't the incline, rather the fact that the entire hillside was composed of loose rock and gravel, making traction difficult at best and dangerous at worst.
I went first. @mrs.turbodb followed.
After gaining somewhere around 3-500 vertical feet, I could tell that this wasn't fun for @mrs.turbodb and I called down to her to see if she wanted to wait while I continued up in the hope that the trail would reappear at some point. This sounded like a great idea to her, and so I scurried upward while she found the shade of a pinyon pine to settle into while she waited.
A few flowering prickly pear cacti began to appear as I gained elevation. (left) | This guy seemed more comfortable than I was on these hillsides, but even he sent rocks tumbling as he scurried from place to place. (right)
Eventually, I did find the trail, only a couple hundred feet below the upper mine. Realizing that I had cell service, I hoped @mrs.turbodb did as well and gave her a quick call to discuss options. In the end, I suggested she head back down to the Black Eagle Camp while I checked out the upper mine. No convincing was necessary, and I'd later hear that she thoroughly enjoyed reading a book and taking a short nap at The Hilton over the next couple of hours!
A few neatly stacked walls finally gave some reasonable footing as I neared the upper mine.
Up here, the telephone poles looked nearly new!
With nicer trails, the final set of switchbacks to the mine went quickly, and soon I found myself presented with a most unusual sight: the entire hillside had been swiss-cheesed.
From my current position, it appeared impossible to explore any of these adits, but I hoped that upon getting closer, I'd see a way in.
Only a couple of buildings - and quite a bit of nice rock work - remained at the upper mine site; a fire in 1984 burned most of the buildings that once crowded this site.
Even if the mine hadn't been successful, this would have been a nice view to wake up to!
And with that, I lost no time in heading toward the swiss-cheese to see if I could find a way in.
The deposit at the Champion Mine was discovered in 1917 by Adolf Knoph but no development work was undertaken until 1921 when the site was located by Dr. J.A. Jeffrey, a dental surgeon who had some experience in mining and an interest in mineralogy. With the help of an enthusiastic prospector he located the andalusite deposit at the head of what was then known as Dry Canyon.
Jeffrey bought a ranch at the base of the White Mountains that became the base of operations for the mine. In addition, the ranch provided forage to feed the mules that packed the ore down the mountain and packed the food and supplies, including 600-pound air compressors, to the mine camps up the mountain.
Dr. Charles Woodhouse, Jeffrey's son-in-law, became the general manager of the corporation. He designed and supervised the building of the 4.5 mile trail from the ranch to the mine camps.
The mine operated from 1921 to 1945 producing 26,457 tons of andalusite valued at $183,992. Principle production, from 1922 to 1936, amounted to about 20,000 tons of 53 percent andalusite.
Upper workings of the Champion Andalusite Mine showing rock cribbing, tunnel portals and scaffolding on the cliff, ca. 1930.
Upper mine camp of the Champion Mine, ca. 1930.
The lower [mine] camp at about 7,500 feet elevation included the cook house, bunk houses, a washhouse, a machine shop and a blacksmith shop. The cook house boasted a commercial size cooking range as well as a walk-in refrigerator - both hauled up over 3,000 vertical feet on the 4.5-mile switchback trail.
Packing out the ore required use of an aparéjo (Spanish, harness or pack saddle), a pack saddle used by mule freighters. It consisted of a large leather "envelope" stuffed with hay until it was about six inches thick and large enough to cover the mule for the heavy loads to be carried. Two 95-pound sacks of ore were loaded on each side of the aparéjo for the trip down the trail.
Pack mules and a packer at a switchback on the steep trail packing out ore to the lower station of the Champion Mine.
Strings of pack mules packed the ore down the steep trails to a platform at the base of the trail where the ore was loaded into sacks containing about 100 pounds each. From the platform's the ore was trucked to a loading station on the Nevada & California narrow gauge railroad (the "SlimPrincess", equipment and rolling stock of which may be seen at the Laws Railroad Museum and Historic Site near Bishop).
Champion Mine. The mule corals and base of the 4.5 mile trail where trucks were loaded with sacks of ore.
The operation included 16 mules and two packers. There were two trips a day, using two strings of eight mules, winter and summer. Obviously, developing and operating this mine was extremely difficult. Nevertheless, it continued to operate even in its later years as the reserves became depleted and a competing economic process for making mullite had been developed.
At Mina, Nevada, the ore was transferred to standard gauge Southern Pacific Railroad trains and shipped to Detroit.
Electricity for the camps was supplied by a hydroelectric plant on the Jeffrey ranch at the base of the mountain and transmitted five miles to the mine camps. Wire, hardware, and power poles were packed up the steep mountain trail by mules. Two air compressors, one at each the lower and upper deposits, powered air drills.
The operation closed down in 1945 and the Champion Mine reverted to public domain in 1982.
Mining History and Economic Geology of the White Mountains, Inyo and Mono Counties, California
I was excited to find this old wheel(less)barrow in the first adit I entered.
The second adit ended at a chimney, but I knew there were more interesting tunnels to explore.
What's behind the red door?
Looking into - and out of - a mountain.
The warm light reflected off the orange walls illuminating the tunnels as they connected portals on the face of the cliff.
Surely these safety gates must have been added later.
A view to camp, far below.
Layers and light.
After poking around the various adits - and enjoying the cooler temperatures inside the mountain - I realized that @mrs.turbodb might be wondering where I was, and that I'd better start the slippery trek back down to camp.
I sent her a quick message that I was on my way, and then was immediately sidetracked by "one more thing" I wanted to check out. And then a few others. Actually, it turned out I wasn't ready to go at all.
I don't know what this old Ingersol-Rand "thing" was, but I can only imagine the poor mule that hauled it up here.
Some old drilling equipment still scattered around.
Look at me pose. (Desert Spiny Lizard)
I've seen quite a few rail setups at old mines, but I don't know if I've ever found a spike before. This was was so cute!
Cognizant that I was supposed to be - at least partially - down the hill by now, it was at this point that I realized that I hadn't checked out the one relatively intact building at the upper camp yet. Resolving to do it quickly, I picked my way up the steep slope toward the door.
Still in good shape - at least, from this side.
Looking across the upper mine camp at mine tunnels Jeffrey/Champion Sparkplug Mine.
The roof was a little worse for wear, but still probably watertight.
Not many visitors up here, there was still glass in the windows and a nice view while eating lunch ... at least for those of us who didn't need to go back out and start hauling ore.
Finally - now probably half an hour or more after I'd suggested that I was already on my way - I headed back down towards @mrs.turbodb. Down - it turned out - was easier than up, at least as far as trail-finding was concerned.
It was notably harder on my ageing knees, however.
Looking back up at the mineralized dome.
Upon reaching the Black Eagle Camp, I was rejoined by my now-refreshed hiking partner and we set off towards the Tacoma. Shortly before noon - with the sun now blazing and our elevation falling - temperatures were starting to rise. We were both ready for lunch - turkey sandwiches, chips, and a cold, crisp apple - which would be assembled once we were back in camp.
A colorful descent.
The way we'd come.
Sunlight transformation.
In order to get as early a start as possible, we'd left the tent deployed in camp, so as @mrs.turbodb made lunch, I folded everything up and got the truck read for the short jaunt back to the highway. There, we'd travel only a few miles before leaving pavement for dirt and making our way to the mouth of a neighboring canyon at the base of the White Mountains.
Good by Jeffrey Canyon, you were too hot!
Sacramento Mine
As we rolled south from the Champion Spark Plug Mine, storm clouds spilled over the Sierra, but it was still hot!
The next mine we'd planned on visiting was one that Tom Wigren (of Abandoned Mine Exploring with Tom and Julie) recommended as "a fairly tough hike to some very interesting underground workings," easily enough to pique my interest!
Still, I knew that the scorching temperatures outside the air-conditioned cab of the Tacoma - and a dime-sized blister on the heal of her left foot - were going to make this a tough sell for my copilot. So, as we searched for access to the road that would deliver us to the cabin and lower aerial tram of the Sacramento Mine, I suggested that perhaps she'd rather wait at the bottom while I scooted up to check out the workings of the mine.
Clouds were making their way to the White Mountains as we approached the Sacramento Mine, but we were still in full sun, and temperatures upwards of 95°F.
This old miner's cabin would serve as a shady base camp for @mrs.turbodb to enjoy The Demon of Unrest: A Saga of Hubris, Heartbreak, and Heroism at the Dawn of the Civil War on her Kindle.
One of the reasons I'd planned for us to do this second hike was that - unlike our first hike of the day - this trail was only 0.96 miles long. Never mind that I'd end up gaining nearly 1,400 feet in that mile, and that I'd be on the sun-drenched western slopes the entire time!
This turned out to be a very sweaty mile.
As I reached the top of the switchbacks, I could see that there were many more levels to the workings than I'd noticed from the valley floor. There, too, an ore chute led to a hopper that once served as the upper terminal for an aerial tramway that would ferry the gold ore down to be processed.
This haphazard ore chute appeared to have moved quite a bit of material to the aerial tramway.
In the early 1870s, the Sacramento Mine was discovered and worked by unnamed Mexican miners for five years, with material being carried - by the miners themselves - to an arrastra for processing until 1878 when they ceased operations.
One of the lower-level adit portals created by the early owners.
Inside the mine, a maze of passages - with crosscuts, winzes, and drifts - seemed to lead in every direction.
From the "A" level, this winze apparently skipped straight to "J."
Plans and finances to begin mining again in 1883 fell through and the property was foreclosed, allowing the Rowland Brothers to step in and lease the claim. By then, the workings consisted of more than 2000 feet of tunnelling development and the new owners claimed - in grand fashion - that more than 1,500 tons of gold-bearing material were easily accessible and would yield more than 500oz of gold, much of which was contained in a five-foot wide vein "showing free gold in every piece plainly visible to the naked eye."
This looked like copper to me, but apparently it was much more valuable!
Finding a piece of an old candle box (from the late 1800's) was pretty cool!
Some of the timbering in the mine was substantial (note the tiny lens cap for scale).
This ladder looked sound, but I'm still a stay-on-the-same-level cat, so I didn't investigate.
The Rowlands worked the mine with the help of at least 10 men and extracted a considerable amount of ore prior to 1890.
In 1912, The White Mountain Mining Company assumed control of the Sacramento Mine, hiring John Henry from Colorado to organize operations. By 1938, an aerial tramway had been constructed to transport the ore 1,400 feet to the base of the mountain but as is common, production was slowing and by 1940, the mine was idle.
In 1965, the Sacramento was re-opened for a short time with a crew of 16, and a new 5-stamp mill was installed in order to process material on site.
Mining History and Economic Geology of the White Mountains, Inyo and Mono Counties, California
Sacramento Mine and Mill
I could have poked around in the Sacramento Mine for quite a while - each level seeming to connect to the next, cool air constantly blowing through nearly every tunnel and shaft. However, with @mrs.turbodb waiting back at the trailhead, and knowing that we still had a bit of driving to do before we'd reach camp for the night - hopefully at a higher, and cooler, elevation - I decided that 35 minutes of wandering around in a partially collapsing mountain was probably enough, and I made my way back to daylight.
That's when I noticed it was raining. Not hard - there were only a few drops - but the storm that we'd seen over the Sierra had moved east, and hot, gusty winds nearly blew my hat off as a few large drops of 80°F water splashed down on my shoulders. With a bit more volume it would have been the perfect shower, had I brought along my shampoo and body wash!
As I started down toward the Tacoma, it was a lot darker than when I'd headed into the mine.
Luckily the weather passed quickly, and by the time I reached the bottom - my knees now killing me after another very steep quarter-mile descent - the blazing sun was once again beating down on the desert around us.
After filling up on a few Advil that @mrs.turbodb so kindly procured, it was time to head for higher ground and cooler temperatures. To elevations inhabited by ancients. To elevations that we hoped would prepare us for what was still yet to come.
The Whole Story
The night to sun on same pic was fun.
could you use flying camera to get the same shot of 1930 pics?
old to new----
night to day-
Hey Mark, glad you enjoyed that dark/light combo, I thought it was a fun to see the difference. As for the 1930s pics - I might be able to fly the camera up, but I wasn't sure since there was no line of sight from the trailhead. Also, none of the equipment is up there, so it'd be hard to do a comparison that made sense, unfortunately.
That old Ingersoll-Rand "thing" is an drill upsetter, basically a bit sharpener. Most mines that used a lot of drill steel had them. Looks like that mine did a lot of drilling. The Berlin Mine in Nevada has a nice one. The drill steel would be heated in a forge and the IR had dies which would reshape the hot bit (most common would be a star), upsetter was pneumatically driven.
Nice you were able to explore the tunnels, I did a lot back in the 1970 when everything was open, harder to find these days.
Ha, thanks for the info on the Ingersoll-Rand, I've seen a lot of other IR equipment (usually generators and pumps) but never an upsetter! Will need to keep my eye out for more of them at future mines. 👍
Took me quite some time to find out what it was after getting a photo of one at the
Berlin mine some years ago. Upsetter is not a word that pops up, various searches on IR tools didn't show it, but finally some late night search combination had a lead that led to another page with some clues. Expect you will only find them at tough to reach mines or preserved mines like Berlin Mine in a State Park. They were pretty useful so scroungers would pack them out.
D, most colorful pictures. I can only imagine the heat. Was the humidity low? Thanks for sharing and looking forward to more!!
Humidity wasn't too bad. I mean, it rained a little bit, so I guess that means the humidity for a few minutes was high, but it wasn't the sticky stuff you get on the east coast!
Luckily, furture days of this trip were at (much) higher elevations, so we were able to (sort of) escape the (worst of the) heat! 🔥
Wonderful adventure and great photos, next best thing to being there! I'm amazed at how well maintained some of the buildings are and kudos to the people that have restored those cabins. Hopefully a difficult hike will keep some of those who would destroy things out of the area although it seems that still access some difficult areas even in the higher mountains. As for weather, I can tell you that down here in the mountains and desert the temps can change drastically in mere minutes. When we backpacked in the High Sierra the minute we lost direct sunlight there would be frost on everything. Here on the high desert it can be a nice 60 degrees (like this morning) at 6am and half an hour later up to 75 and they fast rising to 95+. Thanks for sharing again.
Glad you enjoyed it John. This camp surely is well maintained. I photographed some of the newspaper clippings about the maintenance of it, just need to get time to transcribe them into the archives here (and then I'll post a link to them). So much work has gone into keeping that camp nice, and I think the difficulty of reaching it (which has gotten much harder since Hillary) is a big reason that it's in good shape.
The desert temps are definitely crazy! Just another thing to love about the desert! 👍
WOW - this post was especially interesting !
Glad you enjoyed it!
Very cool episode. I really enjoyed the look back in time as how people lived. Great pictures too.
Been there, done that! It’s quite a special place.
💯 on that! Definitely a special place, and hopefully the difficulty of getting there will keep it that way.
yes, and it has gotten much harder to get there in recent years. The upper road (the one with the "most difficult 4wd" sign) is in such a shape now that I don't think normal vehicles can make it anymore (since about 3 years ago). Maybe with a quad (though I met a guy that day I was out there and he seemed to be having trouble) or a dirt bike. But my 4runner had a tire hanging off the edge, and at one point the road got so rough I just decided to turn around, given all the bouncing I was doing on large rocks right next to a steep dropoff
Interesting. I'd considered driving up that most difficult road, but by the time we got back down - just after 1:00pm - it was so hot that we just wanted to get into the A/C and onto our next destination, hahaha. Here's to hoping that access there remains difficult, I'm sure it's a good thing for what remains up the hill.
Thanks again for keeping an eye on the site, it's great to make connections!
Great photos and storytelling, as always.
I googled the trail. Yeah, starts way too low for me to want to do in August! Probably just going to hike the bristlecone grove (again!), and then Bishop Canyon and Rock Creek Canyon in the Sierra when I visit next month.
BTW, the taco place in Moab? I didn't realize they were a food truck. They did not seem to be open when we visited, so we ended up eating at Gilberto's (block or two further south), twice. Turned out for the better, because they had a poster paper display for elotas (Mexican Street Corn), which my wife wanted to try, having read about it in a book someplace. It is definitely addictive, though with a tremendous mark up on food costs. But, hey, vacation splurge, so we were okay with that.
Thanks! Definitely a hard hike to do in the hot temps, but certainly worth going when you can! We did the Bristlecones (coming up in this trip) for the first time, and had an "interesting" experience despite my trying to plan ahead, hahaha. I'll need to check out Bishop Canyon and Rock Creek Canyon - I'm always looking for new, great hikes. 👍
Bummer to hear that the taco truck in Moab was closed for you, but we'll need to check out Gilberto's the next time we're there. Nothing in Moab is cheap, so rolling with it and enjoying yourself is the only way to go! 😉
I've been waiting for this article. You left a card on my 4Runner when you left the parking area. I came in pretty early in the morning (like 6 or 630) and I thought you were still in your tent sleeping because it was still all set up, so I made sure to stay quiet! I did think I heard some voices at some point mid-day (I was up on the right hand side, didn't go to camp)...
I try to come here at least once a year, I might come back in the fall. I know the part where you lost the trail to the upper camp. It's in an area of gray/blackish rock and it's a bit of a scramble. In that area I generally just go straight uphill a bit, and the trail soon returns. The mistake is to continue forward on a more gradual level (away from camp) as you will get lost in steep stuff. Or, there's always the option of walking up the big talus slope (you would have crossed that much earlier), which allows for interesting rock pickings (andalusite, lazulite, etc) on your way up. But it's definitely more challenging than a trail.
Thanks for a nice report!
Jeff! 😁
I was hoping to hear from you, as we saw your 4Runner - or the cover, hahaha - when we were descending from Black Eagle Camp. Thought we'd see you as you were on the way up, but figured that you must have gone up the "most difficult" road route. Sounds like you arrived not long after we left camp, and interesting to hear that you were up on the right side, what's up that way (...if you don't mind sharing)?
The trail to the upper camp was a lot of fun, even with the part that's tough to follow. I know exactly where you're referring to being a mistake to continue on the more gradual level; we headed straight uphill there - or at least, I did - and as you mentioned, I found the trail after a bit of a scramble. Was cake from that point on, as you know.
Glad to hear you enjoyed the report, I always wonder about folks who show up at trailheads, and I rarely hear back. That cover on your truck was a great idea; was loose around the rear, but I clipped it together and it seemed like it would hold; hope it did!
Yeah I was just out exploring, checking out some other potential areas for interesting rocks. At one point I put my pack down (with all the food/water in it) under a nice big tree and wandered off. Then as it really started heating up I thought "ok, time for some water, let's go find that tree" but every tree looked the same and I was wandering up and down the mountain starting to overheat before I found water. A bit scary. You realize how dangerous it can be to be out in places like this without water
Yeah the cover is great, keeps things cool as far as I can tell (cooler still had ice in it after 4 days in there). Thanks for clipping it on, the wind really picked up. When my friend showed up that evening, he said the cover was flapping around, barely on. I guess I have to tighten those straps!
If you're ever heading back there, hit me up. We may do a trip sometime around memorial day weekend next year and camp for a few days up there and collect rocks. Fun place to camp (once you clean out the mouse droppings carefully). Plenty of water early in the year
Good luck out there on your wanderings!
Best yet!!
How much on foot hiking was required for this. I'm familiar with White Mountain.I did the hike to the Game Wardens cabin in the nature preserve. It was brutal, but I made it!.
https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=Hc_sjbTPv_Q&list=UULFfVL1Wk9AubQ997Yh3QUM3Q&index=17
Hey James, I mentioned the distances throughout the story, but the "sum total" for the first hike was 4500 feet of elevation gain over 3.6 miles (one way). That's all "on foot hiking."
I'll check out that video in a few minutes here, I'm curious about the Game Warden's Cabin! 👍
Thanks so much for your quick reply. That's a straight up hike, yes sir.
The outside of the Game Wardens was rebuilt by a Boy Scout troop. The inside needs accompaniments for sure, nothing in there. Still over 11 miles there and back. At some point those ruts were over my head. I made it at 72 years old and it was not as bad as I thought. I slept good that night.