I always look forward to winter. Not to the snow - though a day swishing down the slopes is always enjoyable - or for the cozy afternoons enjoying popcorn and a movie, but because they mean that it is time - once again - to explore the desert.
Having wrapped up the last of the work on the Tacoma - a new 5th gear and some major repair work to the bed - while it was housed at home, the end of October meant that it was time for the long drive south to escape the cold, wet weather of the Pacific Northwest and revel in the relative warmth of the Mojave Desert for the first time this season.
This time, we'd be doing more than just exploring. We'd be meeting up with Mike @mk5 to help with the ongoing reforestation around Cima Dome, planting Joshua Trees to replace those that were burned in the 2020 Dome Fire. And, with the trip encompassing Halloween, we'd be scaring ourselves shitless by spending that spooky night at the creepiest place in the Preserve - the Golddome Mine.
But now, I'm getting ahead of myself. First, we had to get there.
- - - - -
With a 22-hour drive between Seattle and the Mojave Preserve, getting to our first night of camping wasn't going to be the new-normal, enjoyable experience of getting on a quick, cheap, Spirit Airlines flight to Las Vegas. At least, not for me. Still, I poked along listening to podcasts, enjoying the fall scenery, and wondering if the new 5th gear that I'd installed - and that reduced my engine speed by about 500rpm at 62mph - would result in a noticeable improvement in my gas mileage.
I arrived at the Pahranagat National Wildlife Refuge just before 3:00am, and within minutes the tent was deployed and I was out like a light. Knowing that I didn't need to pick up @mrs.turbodb in Las Vegas - she still got to fly - until 4:00pm, I figured that I'd probably end up with six hours of sleep before continuing on my way. Apparently, I was tired, and found myself groggily descending the ladder a little after 10:30am, definitely the latest I've slept in a very long time!
Enjoying some nice fall colors, I spent a bit of time at Upper Pahranagat Lake before continuing south.
The water levels were lower than I'd ever seen them, and I followed the path of this racoon as I wandered around for a few minutes.
I arrived in Las Vegas just as @mrs.turbodb was boarding her plane, giving myself a couple hours to provision the fridge, refuel the Tacoma, and perform a quick oil change - something I'd purposefully put off until after the 1,000-mile drive south - in the O'Reilly parking lot. And then, after a quick pick-up at the airport, we popped into our usual spot before heading for the desert.
If you order enough food, this can be breakfast, lunch, and dinner. 
It wasn't late, but it was dark by the time we arrived at the Mojave Preserve.
Knowing that we'd arrive in the dark, I'd picked a spot to camp that was reasonably close to a couple of mines - that I wanted to explore in the morning - and that I knew had amazing views of the New York Mountains. We wouldn't see them in their glory for several more hours, but with chilly-but-not-cold temperatures, we were able to enjoy the distant views before climbing into the tent for a cozy nights sleep.
On the horizon, Primm (and Las Vegas) to the left, and Searchlight to the right.
Night sky rainbow.
The following morning...
With our first full desert day of the season in front of us, I was anxious to get going as the sky lit up with glorious oranges and yellows. Clamoring up the hillside behind camp with way more camera bits than necessary, I setup the tripod and launched the flying camera as the sun sped through the darkness toward the horizon.
Our own private showing.
As luck would have it, the hillside behind camp was also the site of the historic Oroweef gold mine, and while there wasn't much to see - this place is frequented by enough folks that anything pocketable has been - it was still fun to wonder what was below the first ladder leaded down into a void below a small headframe. Probably not much of value, given the lack of continued mining activity.
A small headframe and shallow workings are all that's left of the Oroweef mine.
With no ropes, I wasn't going to get far on ladders alone.
Soon, we were on the road, headed through the Joshua Trees toward a mine under Kokoweef Peak.
We pulled up to an unnamed mine on the eastern slope of Kokoweef Peak just in time for breakfast. With a large waste rock pile, this mine may have been more successful than the Oroweef to the south, and was - I believe - part of, or led to, the Kokoweef Caves complex that...
...was discovered in the 1920s by a miner named E. P. Dorr. Later, in a sworn affidavit, Dorr reported an amazing discovery - and a lost mine legend was born. Deep under Kokoweef Peak, he said he found a swiftly flowing subterranean river; lining its banks were sands rich in gold.
The legend grew. "Facts" became scarce. The cave entrance was dynamited shut...there were stories of Dorr going insane, of murdered men, of men buried alive, of rich assay sheets.
Some sources say the main cave chamber has several entrances on the flanks of the peak. In his book, Adventure is Underground, William R. Halliday reports that the Crystal Cave Mining Corporation now owns the property. Would-be lost mine hunters are not welcome.
Security kept a close eye on us as we looked around.
Danger to all but the best trained and equipped cave-explorer is extreme in these cases, and two people lost their lives here in 1959.
In the 1970s, Bob Reynolds of the San Bernardino County Museum excavated remains of Pleistocene age animals including brush ox, dire wolf, large and small camels, horses, marmots, bats, shrews and birds.
For even more reading, check out Kokoweef: Still Searching for the Lost River of Gold.
Had we known about Kokoweef's Lost River of Gold, we probably would have hung around a bit longer looking for our fair share of the riches. Instead, we chuckled at the "No Trespassing | Bad Air" sign that'd been attached to the metal grating just inside the adit opening. With little-to-no water in the area, it was highly unlikely that there was any problem with the air, but the sign sure seemed to be doing a good job. We've seen much beefier blockages - compared to the lightweight steel rebar here - chopped, bent, and torched in order to gain access to mines.
Besides, we had much less lucrative places to be. You see, we've visited the Mojave Preserve's Clark Mountains several times, and I've personally driven up to the Copper World Mine on no fewer than four occasions. Every time, I've passed by the old Dewey Mine - a copper operation sitting high on the hillside, but less than a mile from the road - with a longing glance. Today, we'd change all that.
Queen of the waste rock pile.
Operated from 1906-1908 by Dr. Godshall, the Dewey Mine's limited output was combined with that from the Copper World Mine and processed at Valley Wells. A unique inclined tram that lowered the ore 530 feet from its main tunnel to a loading platform is still connected to the upper end of the tram, and the tunnel behind it is one of the most complex in the preserve.
Chutes and ladders.
Whatever copper the mountain had was thoroughly scooped out of its cathedral ceilings. As elsewhere in the area, the ore occurred near the boundary between limestone and an intrusive stock - here diorite, the salt-and-pepper rock stained with green ore on the tailing.
It's rare that I can convince @mrs.turbodb to enter an adit, but even she was amazed by what we found. (this was all natural lighting)
Sleeping batty.
A sampling of the ore scattered across the hillside. The greens and blues were familiar to us, the purple, not so much. (What is it - a dull azurite perhaps?)
Blasting room door.
Getting to the Dewey Mine didn't take long, but we could have spent all day - had we a few ropes and the guts to use them - exploring the tunnels that perforated the hillside. As it was, we wandered through what we could without the use of ladders, then headed back down the old mining road toward an even greater adventure on the opposite side of the Preserve.
Not quite noon, but definitely time to fuel up for a big climb up an imposing Cowhole Mountain, to our south.
As @mrs.turbodb prepped our sandwiches, I admired Little Cowhole Mountain, draped in long skirts of virgin sand, to our north.
Isolated, and on the far-flung eastern shore of Soda Lake, Cowhole Mountain is a beautiful accretion of desolate desert peaks. We knew that climbing to its summit would be hard work - along an insanely steep gully - but we'd heard enough about the breathtaking ascent to know we wanted to give it our best shot.
At two miles to the summit, the first 1.25 miles - from the wilderness boundary to the base of Cowhole Mountain - was easy enough. Nearly flat, the only obstacles were the occasional creosote and annoyingly invisible underground mice mazes that sporadically caused our feet to plunge several inches into the sand. Still, while the hiking was easy, it afforded us plenty of time to worry about what we saw ahead.
Our target - the v-notch in the upper left - seemed to be at the top of a nearly vertical gulley.
Even as we'd only just begun our ascent, the views to the north were getting good.
Following a route described by Michel Digonnet in Hiking the Mojave Desert, we soon found ourselves working our way through a maze of washes and along the edge of a 30-foot bench, towards a dark dike formed of beige-gray felsite and thickly coated with auburn desert varnish. This is where we'd enter a gulley that Digonnet described as "a total elevation gain of about 1,200 feet over the course of only 0.4 miles up the gully. Here, the terrain becomes progressively steeper and rougher, starting as a narrow field of sturdy boulders, soon running into a few dry falls, then the becoming so steep that gravity has stripped off all large boulders, leaving behind a slippery river of loose cobbles tipped at a reckless 50° angle. It is a grind."
Rounding the dike, we took it only on faith that we could navigate the wall in front of us.
Frequent stops allowed us to enjoy views that kept getting better.
Somehow, this is the way.
Nearly vertical faces presented bouldering problem after bouldering problem, but each ended up having plenty of hand- and foot-holds, making the climb enjoyable.
Eventually, we were high enough to see the dry Soda Lake bed, stretching out toward Zyzzx.
In addition to the fun that we had negotiating our way to the top - continually surprised each time we climbed a section that'd looked impossible only moments before - each new elevation of the ascent seemed to present new and different geology for us to admire.
Most of the boulders in the gully are made of this distinctive light-gray limestone. Wind-blasted to a skin-shredding finish, they provide good anchors to hang on for dear life as you scramble up.
A band of green serpentine ran through the route, contrasting dramatically with the lighter-colored limestone.
Just more than two hours after setting off across the desert, we reached the top of the gulley and were rewarded with our first glimpse of the southern flanks of Cowhole Mountain. To describe what unfolded across the desert as breathtaking would be an understatement.
Below, clinging to the foreground, a stark range of jagged peaks and ridges jutted sharply above a desert floor swirling with bleak shades of browns, grays, and reds. Beyond it, the Devils Playground stretched for tens of empty miles, past the deeply furrowed slopes of Old Dad Mountain to the Kelso Dunes outlined against the Granite Mountains.
Other worldly.
To the north, Little Cowhole Mountain (and the Tacoma) gleamed brightly in the mid-afternoon sun.
Somewhat surprised that we'd made it - and wondering out loud as to the difficulty of the descent - we covered the final two-tenths of a mile to the summit in no time. There, we reveled in the 360° views as we searched the summit cairn for a logbook.
"I wonder if we'll find Digonnet's entry," I joked, before we discovered - and then marveled - at a few sentences scratched onto a bit of paper 15 years earlier!
Gazing out across the expansive Mojave, it was rewarding to know that we've explored much of what we could see.
As was the case with the initial climb, the return trip turned out to be easier than we'd feared when we'd reached the top of the v-notch. Slow-going, some judicious down-climbing, plenty of grippy limestone, and those endless views of Little Cowhole Mountain made for an enjoyable experience.
Back to the Tacoma just under four hours from our departure, we had less than an hour before sunset. Being that it was Halloween, we'd* decided that the perfect place to spend the night would be at the creepiest place in the preserve - the Goldome Mine.
* "we'd" is used loosely here. @mrs.turbodb hated this plan.
Besides the obvious issue of staying at a creepy place on Halloween, we also knew that it'd be well after dark when we arrived at the Goldome, so after a quick powwow, we decided that a good scrubbing with washcloths and consumption of dinner at the base of Cowhole Mountain - while the evening air was still warm - would be the sensible option.
What could possibly go wrong at the Goldome ... on Halloween?
Having traversed the northern boundary of the Preserve once already, we pointed the Tacoma east after finishing dinner and retraced the entire route before arriving at the Goldome Mine just before 8:00pm.
The Goldome - for anyone not familiar - was in operation until 1994 when the California Desert Protection Act suspended mining activity and transformed the East Mojave Scenic Area to into the newly protected Mojave National Preserve. It stood, largely unchanged for over 20 years, until it was vandalized in 2017 by the group INDECLINE. Since then, it's become a magnet for those who think that they are entitled to leave their mark on anything and everything, and the layers of graffiti have continued to pile up.
Unsure if we'd be the only ones there - at least, until Mike met us after racing his way east after work - we were relieved to have the place to ourselves when we arrived. After setting up camp on a remote corner of the property, we wandered around for a few photos. With two of us there - and no wind to rattle the sheet metal - it was a much less creepy experience than the last time I'd visited, but I should have realized that the night was still young.
Seems appropriate for Halloween.
Activists continue to be active at the Goldome.
After our long hike and 45 minutes of wandering around, we were both ready to call it a night just as we got a text from Mike. He hadn't left home yet, but he was finally home from work, and was randomly throwing things in his Tacoma in the hopes that some of them would be useful on a camping trip. I told him to make sure he woke me up when he arrived and we climbed into the tent to get some shut-eye.
It was just after midnight when we were awoken by voices and saw the flash of lights spilling over the terrain. Someone was coming.
Sufficed to say, my companion - already against this particular location on this particular night of the year - was not thrilled. In fact, "not thrilled" would be the most euphemistic way of saying that she was completely pissed at me for getting us into this situation in the first place.
Naturally, my attempts to calm her down with reassurances that we'd be fine, were - while well-intentioned - futile. We were going to die.
That is, until Mike pulled up with his music blaring, light bars glaring, and skinny pedal pressed all the way to the floor (or none of that stuff, I don't really know).
Climbing out of the tent, we greeted each other with warm welcomes and immediately got down to our usual business of catching up on the same mundane topics we discuss online - recent places we've visited, new camera gear we've acquired, and of course, how creepy the Goldome Mine can be on Halloween. Or, I suppose, at this point, a few hours after Halloween.
As we did, the three folks - two guys and a girl, all about 19 years old - who'd been poking around and scaring the bejesus out of @mrs.turbodb - wandered over to relate both how terrified they'd been when Mike had come barreling up the road, and how they'd noticed our truck when they'd arrived, and tried to keep their distance so as to not scare us too much!
After chatting for a bit, they headed back down the road to their sedan, and Mike eventually decided he'd go take a few of his own creepy photos as I climbed back into the tent to get horizontal again.
Halloween at the Goldome had certainly lived up to the hype!
Mike, asleep on his feet, and admiring the interior of the old mill.
Camp under the stars and in the shadow of Las Vegas.
But that's not all!
Really, there wasn't anything else exciting about the rest of the night, but it was notable for how calm it was. Never have I visited the Goldome when the wind wasn't howling, but there was barely a breeze by the time we finally rolled out of bed - just before 8:00am - the following morning.
Naturally, even before really starting our day, we were late for the itinerary we'd planned, but Mike had mentioned something about getting only 4 hours of sleep over the preceding 72 hour period, so we figured a few extra minutes for him was most definitely worthwhile. Plus, it gave me a chance to snap a few photos in the daylight, and meant that @mrs.turbodb and I could partake in the cereal and strawberries that are always a treat on the trail.
The utterly stoopid Ivanpah Power Station just outside Primm gleamed in the distance as sun broke over camp.
Anyone for a quick dip in the old cyanide tank?
A few bits of the graffiti that now decorate the place.
This - now iconic - miner that was carved and painted onto the side of the settling tanks is one of the few original bits of INDECLINE vandalization that still remains. It was fun to catch it with a sunstar!
Eventually, after waking Mike from his deep slumber - twice, since he fell back asleep almost immediately the first time - we all got ourselves ready to go, and headed west, toward an adventure we'd been planning for years...
The Whole Story
You find a lot of mines that you can explore, do you carry something like this? https://www.amazon.com/Upgraded-Detector-Yfwsrecinoe-Rechargeable-Indicator/dp/B0D3M6KTGM
I have been in a number of mines with my Dad when I was kid and a few since but never had an air tester.
I don't have an air quality detector or any real safety gear for going in mines, but I've also got a few rules that keep me in out of riskier situations... or at least, that's what I like to tell my parents, lol.
So yeah, I'm sure I'm totally fooling myself with all those. At least I'm not fooling @mrs.turbodb; she stays outside most of the time.
We just finished our own very long roadtrip to Mojave from way Northern CA in our 88' Jeep Comanche. We arrived home the day before Halloween! We still have a lot that we didn't get to see, vacation time goes too fast! Since I despise the interstate, getting there and back eats up quite a bit of our time. My parents that are in their 70's accompanied us on this trip as well, so we couldn't make the drive too grueling.
We actually considered your storage and cheap flight system, but unfortunately cheap direct flights to LV from our area disappear about 6 months after they are announced and become expensive and indirect again.
I usually try to avoid the part spots with graffiti and such as I don't want unwelcome surprises during the night. Glad that you didn't die!
We just missed you! (Well, probably by a couple days, but still!)
The Mojave is a huge place. I've spent more than 3 weeks camping inside the borders of the Preserve, not to mention more than 150 nights in the larger Mojave Desert, and haven't even scratched the surface.
I hear you on the interstate. I was that way too in the beginning, always looking for dirt to get us along as much of our trip as possible. Eventually though, I gave in, with the realization you already know to be true - the interstate allows me to see so much more when I'm "there." Wherever there is. The flights have been a great thing from that perspective, and I'll mention that even if they cost $400 roundtrip (each), they would still save money from the Pacific Northwest. Not sure where that breakeven point is in N. California, but it's higher than you think. I wrote up a breakdown for our situation, if you're curious. Remember, it's not just gas - it's also tires, oil changes, new windshields, food on the way, etc. - so I like to use the $0.63 cents/mile (or whatever it is these days) to do the calculation.
As for the graffiti at the Goldome. It's not awesome that it's there, but I'm pretty sure it's no more dangerous than any other place in the desert that isn't obviously sketchy due some known nefarious thing going on (drugs, trafficking, etc.) Remember, we actually search out the ancient historic graffiti, and call them rock art! 😉
Oh, I'm not too concerned with the graffiti itself, but more with a group of hoodlums showing up while I'm sleeping.
I did read your breakdown on the costs, thanks for the info. I just rechecked the flights, the cheapest are current $250 each round trip with a stop in LA, around 6 hours average. The other major problem that we have is our airport, (Arcata/Eureka, in Mckinleyville of course). Unfortunately, the airport was built in the foggiest location possible by the military for training in the fog. Apparently later they decided it would make a good commercial airport. 🙄 We are at about a 50% success rate on non delayed flights. Our other airport options are too far away to make sense. Hopefully someday we will have a place in NV for a home base.
Well, on the flip side, you live in a pretty awesome place. I've spent a bit of time in Trinidad at place owned by extended family, and always enjoy it.
Didn't even realize there was an airport in Eureka, ha! Sounds a bit like the situation in San Luis Obispo (where I went to Cal Poly)... only the 30-passenger prop planes took off out of there at the time - and only to SF or LA. One of those flights was the only time I've ever had the pilot come on over the loudspeaker - as the plane was climbing into the air and we all heard a loud boom - to say that one of the engines had failed and we were circling back to land.
Don't have to deal with fog much in SLO though. 😉
I think that's part of the reason that we enjoy exploring the deserts so much. It's pretty much the opposite of where we live. The desert climate is pretty good at preserving historic things. We've got some beautiful scenery, but at some point even trees and mountains get boring.
Yep, I'm in the same boat as you. Lots of tree tunnels up here. And 150-year old cabins that look like they are still inhabitable? Nope, not with our climate/terrain!
We did enjoy visiting many places that we learned of from your previous travels, so thanks for that!
Looks nice and warm...especially compared to our weather here in Idaho right now.
Definitely wasn't too shabby! Wasn't as warm as we'd expected, but we were OK with that given the activities we had planned over the course of our stay. Was nice to get out of the wet and dark of the PNW, that's for sure! 👍
I love the desert in the winter...actually I love it any time.
Do you just park your truck at a storage facility down there?
The desert below about 105°F is pretty great. Above that, I'd say I don't love it. At least, for extended periods.
As for the Tacoma - sort of. I found a place (there are several) where they store vehicles - I think a lot of folks have RVs and collector vehicles, etc. there in Vegas - and we just keep it there in the winter now. It's probably more expensive than storing it at a self-storage place, but it's climate controlled, has "security," etc.
Was a bit of a pain initially - was on a waitlist for a while - but now that it is setup, I just shoot them an email when I'll be there for pick-up/drop-off and they have it ready to go for me.
Indoor storage is key...sounds like you scored on the location.
As long as you have shade 105 isn't bad. We were out in the Owyhee last labor day and it was well over 100. We just stripped down to minimal clothes and hosed ourselves off with the shower every once in a while and it was about as pleasant as it gets. It helped that we didn't see anyone the entire time we were there.
View photo in context.
Message sucks but the art work is good.
How about Iran stop arming terrorists bent on genocide of the Israeli people…..
much better message
A Hamas hideaway?
Mike Woodward | Carol Parker Stockstell | Jason Ainslie | Michael Shatto
In general, while I may agree or disagree I don't comment much on any of the meaning/messages behind any of the graffiti at this location, except to say that it is graffiti. Everyone who does it feels like they are justified, beginning with INDECLINE who defaced the place to begin with.
To me, some of it is beautiful, but that doesn't negate the fact that it is graffiti and shouldn't be condoned.
More details on the background of how this started, here: Our First Visit to the Goldome Mine.
You’re right, it doesn’t belong there. None of it does. But the anti-semitic messages coming from some Americans is horrific. I guess I wish you had left this one out of your collage….
I considered not posting it, but it is some of the "newer" graffiti there, and I like to document.
As for the message, my take on it is that it is like many other messages in our society today - it expresses a point of view on a less-than-ideal situation that sucks for both sides - and it is meant more to "enrage the other side" than anything else.
When it does invoke that rage, that "us-vs.-them" reaction, the damage is done and the battle continues.
The key is to be able to see it for that, rather than inherent antisemitism, and have a real conversation about the larger issue of unrest in order to find a workable solution that results in as little loss of life as we can.
I take no issue with you posting what you observed.
I'm heartened to see other posts here calling the graffiti out for what it is.
To your comment, this message IS inherent anti-semitism. To see that the graffiti is 100% anti-semitic and calling for genocide of the Jewish people is to face pure evil. Attacks on Israel and all the Islamist attacks on Western targets of the past 70+ years (9/11, Beirut Barracks, US campuses this year and now, US cities now) is the Islamist effort to destroy Western civilization.
It is terrible that innocent people are caught in the crossfire.
But whoever made this graphic had the time to think, design, paint, and light it up. I'll bet if you ask them they will go on an anti-semitic rant.
I'm replying in the hopes that we can have a discussion about this. Perhaps to agree, perhaps just to hear each other out, perhaps to disagree - I am fine with any/all.
First - whoever painted this did have time to think, design, and paint it. It is, as we both know, a phrase that is in the "common lexicon" recently. However, they did not light it. I lit it (and many other bits of graffiti) so that I could photograph it at night. In this case, I thought it interesting to contrast the message (a very contentious one in our society today) with a rainbow (largely considered beautiful, regardless of race, political beliefs, etc.).
As for attacks on western targets - I agree that they are abhorrent. It is terrible that innocent people are caught in the initial attacks, as well as the response.
As for the words themselves being anti-semitic, I am not sure I agree, or that such an interpretation is the only one. I acknowledge that it could be, but that it could also be a message meant to convey a desire to end the war and the innocent deaths occurring in the region. We don't know the author's intent.
What I was trying to say earlier was that assuming the worst interpretation leads us to a place of hate, whereas assuming the later (or even simply not assuming the former) can allow everyone in the world a little more grace, and perhaps to work together a bit more to find solutions.
Thoughts?