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Noises in the Night
From our campsite at Wee Thump, we drove west into the Mojave National Preserve. After driving several miles down a series of sandy roads, we parked.
It was windy and cold but the skies had cleared. We had a two-mile hike to our destination – if my research was correct.
It was correct and we were pleased and surprised how extensive this rock art site was.
The Lady has been enjoying photography with her phone.
The petroglyphs were both on the upper cliff band of basalt and also on the steep talus slope below.
This was an amazing site.
We had one more site on “the list” in the area to search for. This one was right off the Interstate.
It was almost bizarre to be searching for and finding ancient rock art amid the deafening noise of vehicles and trucks roaring by at 75 mph. The site was small but worth the stop.
We drove into the Ibex Valley area and found a nice spot to overnight. We pointed the front of the truck directly into the wind. This reduced the effects of the gusts against the camper. The wind dropped enough in the evening for us to sit out under the stars.
“How ‘bout a date shake today!” I asked the Lady the next morning. “We have to do a nice hike before we get one,” she answered.
There is a trailhead for the Amargosa Canyon at the China Ranch Date Farm.
The first section of trail takes you down Willow Creek to its confluence with the mighty Amargosa. The scenery is spectacular.
The interpretive signs along the way are excellent.
Note: Tom Wilson was Hungry Bill’s son-in-law and Wilson Spring, at the end of Johnson Canyon Road, is named for Tom Wilson.
The abandoned railroad grade of the Tonopah and Tidewater Railroad runs down the Amargosa Canyon.
An eroded cut through the railroad grade.
The scenery continued to awe us.
We made our way to the Slot Canyon.
It required crossing the mighty Amargosa River which actually flows water in this area.
The slot canyon is up a side wash.
The east wall of the slot canyon entrance has a nice exposure of slickensides.
The slot canyon – it ends at a high boulder jam that possibly could be climbed, we did not attempt it – was a lot of fun.
We took a different route up Willow Creek and returned to the trailhead.
We had a date with a date shake.
The wind was howling when we stopped at Furnace Creek. It was dangerous to open the truck doors. The wind could rip them out of our grasp. We planned to overnight up on Centennial Flats. The building wind was changing our minds. Mesquite Dunes were obscured by the billowing dust storm. Wind gusts over Townes Pass buffeted the truck. Up on the Darwin Plateau we stopped and tried opening the truck doors. It would be Plan B for this night – a room at the historic Dow Villa in Lone Pine. We enjoy staying in the historic section of the hotel and a room was available.
The wind died down during the evening as we walked most of Lone Pine. We returned to our room after our walk and climbed into bed. I woke shortly after midnight. The room was warm – at least for us – and a bit stuffy. I read. The noise began around a half hour later - the sound of lovemaking in a room nearby. You can pick your favorite slang term, boinking, banging, shagging, poking, laying pipe. The Lady and I go with “heing and sheing.” It quickly grew in volume with the woman, by far, the most boisterous. It woke the Lady. “Oh, that’s what I think it is, isn’t it?” she asked. The intensity and volume grew. Any inhibitions the couple may have had were abandoned. They were going to town. On and on. Wow. I was contemplating what Olympic score I would give them with extra points for incredible endurance. “This can’t be real. This is way too much,” the Lady finally said. “It’s early in the morning of April 1st. This could be an April Fools prank.”
The Lady’s idea sent me down a different path. The historic Dow Villa is seeped in Hollywood and movie history. Many of the early Hollywood stars stayed in these rooms when filming movies in the nearby Alabama Hills. I’m now convinced the Dow Villa is haunted by the amorous wailing of the ghosts of Hollywood lovers. Rent a room, grab a bowl of popcorn, and wait for the ghostly lovemaking to begin. I gave them a 9.8.
We had time to explore the next morning. We drove through the glorious Alabama Hills with the Sierra Crest behind in the early sunlight.
As we headed north on 395 for our last night of this trip, we again returned to “the list.” We had time to search for four rock art sites. The steep rocky road grew worse and worse until it was time to park the truck.
The first site was two boulders in a wash nearby.
The second site was nearby, but much harder to find. It took time but the Lady spotted it.
The third and fourth sites were over a mile away and much higher on the slope. On the way up we passed an interesting and well-preserved old mining operation.
The spring migration of mule deer moving back into the high country has begun. We came upon a herd of close to twenty deer. Several are to the right of the Lady in the photo below.
The sites we were searching for were along a cliff band of volcanic rock facing west toward the soaring Sierra.
The third site was small.
The fourth site was further down the cliff band and much larger.
The setting was splendid.
It was time to work our way back down to the truck with sweeping views of the Owens Valley below.
Where did we spend the last night of our trip? Yes, the tub
whisperer scored again. Refreshed, restored, rejuvenated by the healing hot
spring waters, we returned home the following day. Yes, we returned home to almost a foot of snow. We parked the truck at the top of our road and walked down the hill to get ready to clear. An hour and and half later the tractor was back in its garage, shovels were put away, the truck unloaded, and in its place in the main garage.
