Gold Butte National Monument - April 2026 - Part Two

 

please remember you can click on a photo to see a larger version & highlighted text are links to additional information.

Please click here for Part One

 

Gold Butte

 

We returned to Whitney Pocket to look for an arch. It was busy in the area as it was spring break and a Saturday but few were leaving their vehicles and venturing off on foot. It was a marvelous area to explore.

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

The Lady knew the arch was there although I was tempted to caption this photo, “Now there’s supposed to be an arch around here somewhere.”

  

 

 

 

 

 

I moved position and found the women playing and scampering about on the sandstone. I wondered if they had crawled through from the opposite side?

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

We continued south on Gold Butte Road and made a stop at the Devils Throat - where the roof of a large cave collapsed in the early 1900’s.

 

 

 

 

 

 

That’s Virgin Peak in the upper left of the photo above. Devils Throat is surrounded by a new chain link fence for visitor safety. Someone had recently pulled it open with a vehicle. We spent most our time here trying to close it back up.

 

We continued southward to the Gold Butte Townsite.

 

 

 

 

 

 

The graves of Garrett and Coleman - mentioned in the sign above - are close by.

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

We went high to get a nice overview.

 

 

 

 

 

The flowers still grabbed our attention. Grizzlybear Cactus (Opuntia polyacantha var. erinacea).

 

 

 

 

 

 

We were drawn to the information on Gibbs Camp on the sign: “Gibbs Camp, a collection of canvas tents that made up the eastern most neighborhood of Gold Butte, lies about 0.6 miles east-northeast of here. Today at Gibbs Camp, visitors can see tent sites, historical cans, and a granite arrastra.”

 

With that information - 0.6 miles east-northeast - we took our map and compass and a photo of the Gibbs Camp photo on the sign and walked in that direction until the photo matched the real world.

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

The arrastra of solid granite was especially spectacular and unique.

 

 

 

 

 

 

We found the polished drag stones close by.

 

 

 

 

 

 

It was very quiet out here so we set up camp in a tucked away spot and took in a wonderful display of evening light. The distant lights of Las Vegas are visible in the second photo.

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

On our morning coffee walk, the Lady and I took in first light washing across the landscape.

 

 

 

 

 

 

Steve, the Lady, and I decided the night before, since Gold Butte was “right there,” we had to go to the top.  It was a beautiful morning for a quick hike.

 

 

 

 

 

 

We followed an old road to an adit just below the summit.

 

 

 

 

 

 

The views were wonderful.

 

 

 

 

 

 

Up, up, up we went.

 

 

 

 

 

 

“There’s a rattler right there. Don’t step on it.” the Lady said to Steve. That got Steve’s attention.

 

 

 

 

 

 

The Southwestern Speckled Rattlesnake was calm, unthreatened, and did not rattle. It continued on its way unhurried.

 

 

 

 

 

 

We are always thrilled to come upon a rattlesnake.

 

The two adits at the prospect were into a vein of quartz.

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

From the small prospect, it was a scramble up to the summit of Gold Butte.

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

Here’s a view to the north. Our camp is near the center of the photo.

 

 

 

 

 

 

A panorama southwest to south.

 

 

 

 

 

 

The descent was straightforward and uneventful. Camp was packed up and we drove north to our favorite part of Gold Butte National Monument.

 

Our adventure continues in the upcoming (and final) Part Three.

Gold Butte National Monument - April 2026 - Part One

 

please remember you can click on a photo to see a larger version & highlighted text are links to additional information.

 

Virgins 

 

We turned onto Gold Butte Road. For the first several miles, the road parallels the Virgin River.  I saw the burst of activity out of the corner of my eye, and I quickly pulled to the side of the road. The rubberlegs pulled in behind us. We all exited our trucks.

“Let’s move back down the road,” I said. “A snake struck a rabbit and both went into the air. I hope it’s a rattler but I think it’s a gopher. They should be back here and I believe the snake still has the rabbit.”

We found the Gopher Snake (Pituophis catenifer deserticola) tightly wrapped around and crushing the rabbit to death.

 

 

 

 

 

 

The snake’s expression definitively said, “It’s mine! It’s mine!”

We did not argue and tried hard not to disturb, taking in this life and death drama on the shoulder of the road.

“We’re not in Disneyland,” Steve parodied a guide they had on a tour boat into ‘gator country in Louisiana. “This is the real world!”

 

The snake did not give Steve a nod in agreement or a wink of its eye. It was firmly focused on its task. The rabbit stopped struggling and was now obviously dead. The serpent slowly rotated around to the head, and started in on its meal, swallowing its prey.

 

 

 

 

 

 

And that was the demise of the Easter Bunny.

 

 

 

 

 

 

We first visited here in 2012 and that was the start of our love affair with Gold Butte National Monument. 

Here are two sources for information - 

Friends of Gold Butte

and 

Gold Butte Bird & Hike

We arrived at Whitney Pocket near lunch time. After eating, we took in the sights here, starting with the C.C.C. Dam.

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

One of the C.C.C. construction crew members?

 

 

 

 

 

The Lady was happy to be back!

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

We circled the outcrop of Aztec Sandstone, searching for rock art. We found much more. 

 

Fremont's Dalea (Psorodendron fremontii) 

 

  

 

 Beavertail Pricklypear (Opuntia basilaris)

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

We needed to get into position to climb Virgin Peak the next day. We’d heard the road was very rough so we started in with, we thought, daylight to spare. We spotted each other’s vehicles through several sections. The Lady walked ahead to reconnoiter.

“This rattler’s huge!” I heard her cry out. “It’s beautiful!”

I met her coming back down the road to get me. “I hope you can see it!” she exclaimed as she led me back. Steve and Deb followed, but the snake had made a quick getaway.

 

It was dusk when we were settled in camp. It took digging deep in the gravel to level our campers enough to be comfortable. We had made it about a half mile above Cowboy Campsite.

 

The cold wind bit into all of us the next morning. In the canyon bottom, the warmth of the sun was a long ways off. We climbed out of the canyon and into the sunlight. The views were glorious. Our camp is far down in the junipers, right of center.

 

 

 

 

 

 

Startling displays of flowering cactus welcomed us. Mojave Kingcup Cactus (Echinocereus triglochidiatus ssp. mojavensis)

 

 

 

 

 

 

Now up on the southeast ridge of Virgin Peak, the vista opened up to the west - the Virgin River, Lake Mead, the colorful sandstones of Gold Butte and Valley of Fire, and the snow-capped peak of Mt. Charleston beyond.

 

 

 

 

 

 

The route up the ridge was more straightforward than the ascent of Grapevine Peak, but a rough, tangled, rocky, puzzle nonetheless.

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

Steve and I followed the women up to the summit.

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

The wind and dust obscured the views, but they were still grand.

 

 

 

 

 

 

It was windy and cold. We stayed low with most of our clothes pulled on. It was still a happy time on top. And with cell service, Deb informed her pen pal of our successful summit bid.

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

We retraced our route down the ridge.

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

Here’s where we turned off of the ridge to drop down into the canyon bottom. Our trucks are visible in the shadows - right of center.

 

 

 

 

 

 

The next morning, driving down canyon, we stopped at the Cowboy Campsite with the usual detritus - remains of water troughs, an old vehicle. The flowers stole the show.

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 Coulter's Fleabane (Erigeron coulteri)

 

 

 

 

 

We carefully - without body damage this time - spotted our trucks through the rocks.

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

We stopped at the Virgin Corral.

 

 

 

 

 

 

We climbed the red rock to investigate the remains of the water system.

 

 

 

 

 

 

The flowers continued to awe us.

 

 

 

 

 

Our adventure continues as we returned to Whitney Pocket. Please click here for Part Two.