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Old Trails
It was south to Panaca after our delightful visit to Pioche. We were burning daylight - it was late in the day - as we returned to the route of the Jayhawkers. Their trail headed west up the east flank of the Chief Range. Our first stop - another important water hole - was at Bennett Spring.
Bennett - of the Bennett/Arcan families group of the Death Valley 49ers - returned to this area in 1857 and led a group of Mormons through. These place names came from the 1857 expedition. He relied on his knowledge from the ordeals of 1849. The spring was a classic vegetation choked water hole.
We continued west, climbing to Bennett Pass, where we stopped for the night.
The next morning dawned clear and cold. A blackbird was quite curious about the new white box in its territory.
We descended down into Dry Lake Valley, on the route of the Jayhawkers. Climbing up the west side of the broad valley, we reached Coyote Spring.
As with most springs in the arid west, Coyote Spring has modern development. But surface water is still visible as is evidence of more ancient use by humans.
The Jayhawkers continued west up through a gap in the mountains.
And down into the White River Valley beyond. There’s uncertainty about their route around the Seaman Range to reach Coal Valley further to the west. Jean Johnson believes they went to the north around the Seaman Range. Her husband, Leroy, believed they took a southern route around the Seamans. Deb hopes, with further exploration of this area and research of historical documents, she can help define their most probable route around.
Well, we had the benefit of USGS topographic maps. We could see ahead much better than these weary travelers back in 1849. Something on the map on the possible northern route caught our eye and it affected our choice on where to go first.
This hot spring, with its clear warm waters, was magical.
We indulged with a long rejuvenating soak. Toils, cares, trail dust washed away.
And, as always, we kept our heads and noses out of the water.
We returned back south, up and over the gentle pass, and into White River Valley. Here we got distracted and turned to exploring much older trails, much much older than 1849. We found a campsite in the White River Narrows. The next morning, we searched out the remarkable ancient rock art here. The narrows are incredible on their own…….
…..but the abundant rock art makes this place truly special.
White River Narrows is included in the Lincoln County Guide - Lincoln County Rock Art Guide
Jim Boone also has information on his excellent website - White River Narrows Archeological District
The storied rock at the south end of the narrows.
Our final stop in the narrows was at the massive rock art panels to the north.
One panel was a climb to get up to. The Lady was happy.
And she discovered a stacked rock hunting blind above.
Our adventure exploring the route of the Jayhawkers in 1849, and our time with Deb & Steve was coming to its end. We decided we’d all make one more stop together exploring the ancient rock art at Mount Irish.
Jim Boone’s guide can be found here - Mount Irish Archeological District
After setting up camp in the new small BLM campground, we hiked up a nearby water-polished drainage.
We hoped to find evidence of the Pahranagat Man.
We were successful.
We located the red pictographs.
Here with DStretch added.
The next day we continued our search for rock art at this fascinating site.
The girls found more pictographs.
Our map indicated an old mining site in higher country to the west.
I took a group portrait.
A newer homestead was here, the building pictured above.
This was a new wildflower for us that I’ve not yet identified.
We returned to our search for rock art.
This panel was the highlight of our visit to Mount Irish.
The following morning, we said goodbye and parted ways with our friends, Deb & Steve. Thank you two for a great time together!
If you’d like more information on the Jayhawkers and the other Death Valley 49ers, here’s an opportunity -
Deb is doing a presentation on the Jayhawkers on October 30, 2026 at 3:00pm at Stovepipe Wells in Death Valley National Park. Deb’s presentation is part of the 2026 Death Valley 49ers Encampment. Camping is available at the National Park’s Stovepipe Wells Campground.
Yes, the Lady and I were on our way back to the house, but our adventure was not over. While stopping for gas at Ash Springs, the Lady complained of a sharp bite on her back. Discretely lifting her shirt, I found a tick burrowing in her right lower back. I quickly removed it. We hate ticks. Keep an eye out for them.
We spent our first night on our way to the house at a favorite spot on the east side of the Sierra Nevada north of Bishop. The morning was incredible.
We were ending this trip where we began this long adventure many weeks before, at Benton. Yes, the tub whisperer had scored once again. Since we live close and the refrigerator is empty in the camper, we often do our grocery shopping for home at Von’s in Bishop. Friday, early afternoon, we were taking care of this domestic chore. We both noticed something was different. The shoppers in Von’s just didn’t fit what we normally see here. As we got out in the parking lot, and with more observation, we figured it out. The next day, the last Saturday in April, was the opening day of trout season on the east side and the hordes from southern California were flowing in. What had initially caught our attention was all the carts being pushed out of Von’s filled with cases of beer; cases and cases and cases of beer. It was awe inspiring. The men gathered in groups around lifted pickups, their truck beds piled high with coolers and camping gear - males without, what looked like to us, adequate adult supervision. Wearing tactical clothing with bare feet in flip-flops - evidence of the suburbs in a warmer climate - they added cases of beer to truck beds while discussing where to get pizza for dinner before heading for camp.
Because of my background, especially at times like this, a song will pop into my head. The Lady knew exactly the song I was thinking of -
Beer guts of America stand up if you can.
Stick out your big beer gut and hoist a cool one in your hand!
Your beer gut is your buddy, a friend who’s always near.
And all you ever have to do is feed it lots of beer.
We sang together on our drive to Benton. This song is one of Da Yoopers greatest hits. Take a listen here - Beer Guts of America.
Any thought of beer guts, men without proper supervision, the opening of trout season, cases and cases and cases of beer, disappeared as we settled into another wonderful quiet night at this oasis on the east side.
Old trails are the best.
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