A ‘Ghost Mill’ at the Southern Entrance to Death Valley

January 19, 2019 / Curt Mekemson / 27 Comments

Old, abandoned towns of the West are given the name of ghost towns. While Ashford Mill hardly meets the requirements of being a town, I decided we could at least think of it as a ‘ghost mill.’

Abandoned mines litter Death Valley’s history. In my last post, I featured one of the most successful mines in the area, the Harmony Borax Works. It was so successful that the twenty-mule team responsible for hauling its ore across the desert served as a logo for the long running TV show, Death Valley Days. The show was hosted by none other than Ronald Reagan in the 1964/65 season when I was a student at Berkeley. It’s possible I even watched an episode or two while avoiding the baton-wielding police sent to campus by Edwin Meese, Oakland’s District Attorney at the time— and Reagan’s future Attorney General.

Mercury, talc, gold, silver, sodium chloride, Epson salts, tungsten, and copper were some of the other minerals that miners pursued with visions of wealth dancing in their heads. Few were successful. Some 2000 mine ruins were left behind as their legacy. Ashford Mill is one such ruin. It was built by the Ashford brothers to process ore from their Golden Treasure Mine located 5 miles to the east in the Armargosa Range. The brothers alternated working the mine and leasing it out to various companies for over 30 years until they finally gave up in the early 40s. A lot of money, work and heartache was devoted to the effort, but the ‘golden treasure’ was not to be found. Today, all that remains of the mill are the cement walls of what was the office and a few remnants.

A view of the office as it now looks. I decided in would be fun to photograph the surrounding desert using the various openings as frames.

The Golden Treasure Mine is located up in the mountains.

While there was little left of the old mill, I found this timber beam rather impressive.

Here’s Peggy looking cool in her shades while standing next to our red Toyota Tacoma. The Amargosa Range is in the background.

For all of our trips into Death Valley over the years, Peggy and I have never entered from the south end of the park. We remedied that this time by heading over to Pahrump from Las Vegas following Highway 160 and then cutting over to the remote town of Shoshone on 178 and on into Death Valley. Following are some of the photos that Peggy and I took illustrating this route.

Looking east from the southern entrance to Death Valley, Mt. Charleston dominates the view. A ski area for Las Vegas is located up in the mountains. (Photo by Peggy Mekemson.)

The road worked its way around this rock. (Photo by Peggy Mekemson.)

Climbing up toward the pass into Death Valley provided views like this. (Photo by Peggy Mekemson.)

Once over the top we began to make our way down into Death Valley.

The Panamint Range can be seen stretching across the horizon. (Photo by Peggy Mekemson.)

Rocks made up of different minerals and laid down under differing geological conditions provide the color for which Death Valley is famous. (Photo by Peggy Mekemson.)

I’ll wrap up our trip into Death Valley with this photo that demonstrates just how flat things can get. I loved the perspective of the road disappearing into the distance. It seems like everything was converging.

NEXT POST: A bit of Las Vegas and the road north to Reno.

The 20 Mule Team Canyon… Death Valley Interlude

January 17, 2019 / Curt Mekemson / 35 Comments

Our Toyota Tacoma pickup makes its way down a road that was once traveled by 20 mule teams hauling borax.

The red hood of our truck reflects a desert scene from the Twenty Mule Team Canyon in Death Valley. The short 2 1/2 mile side trip is one of our favorites in the National Park. Imagine, if you will, driving an 18 mule/2horse team hauling 10 tons of borax over 160 miles of desert. The total weight including wagons was 36 tons and the livestock and wagons stretched for over 180 feet! I asked my 278 horse power truck if it would like to pull such a load through Death Valley. The answer was a resounding no. Having struggled with hauling only myself and gear over the hills and mountains of the Park on my bicycle during my 10,000 mile bike trek, I heartily agreed.

This photo of the road suggests your team would be going right, then left, and then right— all at the same time. (Photo by Peggy Mekemson.)

This early, unattributed photo in the public domain, provides a view of the team with its Death Valley backdrop.

The real treat in driving over the short distance is the almost unreal beauty. Peggy and I stopped the truck several times along the road to get out and take photos. I’ve posted before on the canyon but we took all of these photos on Sunday.

The golden rock working its way up the hill from left to right caught my attention.

Peggy captured this ridge, which is one of the dominant features of the drive. Two people, not shown here, were making their way along the top. (Photo by Peggy Mekemson.)

I took a similar photo and rendered it in black and white.

This hill, which seems to stand alone, was actually the start of the ridge.

Erosion creates very interesting rock structures in the canyon and throughout Death Valley.

This photo provides another example.Various colors reflect different types of rock laid down over millions of years through times when the area was covered by oceans, lakes, sand dunes and volcanos. (Photo by Peggy Mekemson.)

I took a closer look at the sensuous landscape..

Three different types of rock are quite clear here. I should note that different rocks have different hardness and erode at different rates, which also adds to the interest of desert landscapes.(Photo by Peggy Mekemson.)

Almost out, I’ll conclude with this rock and a peak rising in the background.

NEXT POST: I’ll conclude our journey through Death Valley National Park.

The Devil’s Golf Course in Death Valley… An Interlude

January 15, 2019January 15, 2019 / Curt Mekemson / 33 Comments

The sun beats down on the Devil’s Golf Course in Death Valley.

“Only the Devil could play golf here.” 1934 National Park guide book.

Peggy and I are playing hooky, extending our seemingly endless time away from home. One would think that backpacking the PCT, visiting Puerto Vallarta, and spending over a month with our kids in Florida and North Carolina would satisfy our wandering needs for a while. But no, here we are in Las Vegas, or Lost Wages, as I like to call it, ensconced in a comfortable suite at the very southern tip of Las Vegas Boulevard, the infamous Strip. Or is that famous?

Few people who visit this city venture outside of its mecca of gambling and entertainment pleasure palaces. Peggy and I always do. There is much to see and do. There is a desert on its doorstep, and it is a desert of rare beauty. Death Valley National Park is a prime example. It is a mere two hours away and Peggy and I drove out there on Sunday. To us, it’s like seeing an old friend; we have been there many times.

It is a geologist’s dream— there are rocks everywhere, and the rocks all have stories to tell. It’s a story of ancient seas and lakes and volcanic activities and clashing, mountain-building plates. Death Valley is a rift valley, or a graben in technical terms, formed along a fault zone between two mountain ranges. As the mountains were thrust up by tectonic forces, the valley dropped between them, several thousand feet. The two mountain ranges have since filled the valley up with eroded debris.

The shallow Lake Manly filled the basin a few thousand years ago. As the climate of the area changed and became more desert like, the lake dried up. Its briny waters left a deep deposit of salt behind, which brings us to today’s post. The Devil’s Golf Course is located a short 10 miles away from Bad Water Basin, which, at 282 feet below sea level, is the lowest point on the North American continent. Water that drains into the Basin melts the salt and becomes undrinkable, thus the name. The Devil’s Golf Course is several feet higher and avoids the melting water. Instead, capillary action pulls salty subsurface water up creating the crystalline structures that the area is famous for.

Peggy and I caught the area at a particularly good time for photography, which surprised me, given the location of the overhead sun. Anyway, here are the results.

This close up provides a view of the crystalline structures developed by the capillary action. BTW, they are composed of 95% table salt. (Photo by Peggy Mekemson.)

I took this photo looking east toward the Amargosa Range.

Looking southwest along the Panamint Range.

Peggy photographing the Devil’s Golf Course provides a perspective on the size of the crystalline structures.

A final shot of the Devil’s Golf Course backed up by the Panamint Range. (Photo by Peggy Mekemson.)

NEXT POST: A ghostly reminder of Death Valley’s past, and more.

A Limb with Tusks, Plus More Impressive Rocks and Trees along the PCT near Ebbett’s Pass

January 8, 2019 / Curt Mekemson / 30 Comments

I didn’t spot the tusks on this tree limb until I checked out my photos. There’s no doubt which is the dominant creature here! Or maybe they are just snuggling.

Peggy and I had lunch yesterday with Barbara and Carl, the couple that dropped us off at Mt. Ashland for the beginning of our trek south down the PCT. It was the first time I had seen them since the beginning of the adventure. There was a lot to tell.

Naturally, I talked about both the challenges and the rewards of backpacking for 700 miles over difficult terrain at 75. I also discussed how 50 years of backpacking had prepared me for the trip, and threw in a few of my more humorous adventures from those years. They will be in my book.

“Knowing what you know now, would you do the PCT hike again?” Carl asked.

“Absolutely,” I replied. This doesn’t mean I will forget just how hard it was. It’s an important part of the story. But the beauty and the nature of the adventure are what will stick in my mind. I once had a woman who had been on one of my hundred mile treks tell me it was one of the most difficult tasks she had ever undertaken. But in the end, she said, it was an incredible, life-changing experience. The pain faded; the experience remained. “The only thing I can equate it with, Curt,” she had related, “was having my first baby.” Ouch, and then ‘Oh my!’

For the first 25 years or so of my backpacking, I hadn’t carried a camera. Those were the days before you could expect to obtain quality photos from a small camera, and I didn’t want to add the extra weight to the 60 pounds I was already carrying. I was also reluctant to spend the time that good photography required. And often I was leading groups that demanded my full attention.

I am sorry now. “I can’t believe you go to all of these beautiful places and don’t carry a camera,” my father had told me time and time again. He was right. I wish I had those photos now to remind me of where I had been and what I had seen. But there is more. Photography helps you see the world in different ways. It encourages you to focus in on details you might miss, it helps you notice the differences that light and varying perspectives make, and it forces you to stop and look around.

Today’s photos pick up where my last post left off, hiking down the PCT from Carson Pass on Highway 88 to Ebbetts Pass on Highway 4. The first four illustrate the value of stopping and looking around. They are all of the same scene from different perspectives.

Once again, there were towering cliffs to admire. These were framed by hemlocks.

A closer look showed junipers growing beneath the cliffs. A tiny moon appears in the upper left.

And my telephoto brought the moon into perspective with the cliffs.

While another photo featured one of the junipers standing tall against the cliff.

One of the magical things about following a trail is that you never know what you will see next. It’s a thought that forever pulls me on. The PCT made its way around a large snag here and disappeared into the woods.

I was assured that the views would just keep coming.

The smoke did more than hassle my lungs; it also provided some interesting photos as it filtered the sun. This juniper is an example.

As might be expected from my last post on the PCT through the Mokelumne Wilderness, there was no end to magnificent rocks.

Rounding a bend I came on a new view with a juniper, rock and open area leading to a distant peak.

This perspective had the intensity of surrealism. I could see Dali carefully painting the rocks in the foreground and adding a melting clock.

The contrast between a juniper and rock guaranteed that my camera came out.

And then I was treated to my first view of Mt. Reynolds.

I’ll conclude today with this view. I loved the contrast.

NEXT POST: Variety, being the spice of life, it’s back to Mexico.

Stunning Rocks and Gorgeous Junipers… The PCT through the Mokelumne Wilderness

January 2, 2019January 3, 2019 / Curt Mekemson / 33 Comments

There is no hurrying through land like this. The combination of junipers and rock sculptures called to both me and my camera.

I was surprised by the sheer beauty along the PCT south of Carson Pass. I had hiked through the region several times over the years, but my trail had always been slightly to the west. Somehow I had missed the incredible rock sculptures. That, and the junipers. If you have ever wandered the West, you are familiar with this gnarly, photogenic tree. Most of todays photos were taken near Pennsylvania Creek in the Mokelumne Wilderness, maybe 15 miles north of State Highway 4 and Ebbetts Pass. I’ll let the photos speak for the area.

Hiking down into Pennsylvania Creek, I found this juniper.

That night, I camped on the south side of Pennsylvania Creek. This was the view !

The next morning, smoky skies and the sun provided a red cast to the view.

Farther along, I was treated to this view.

Near the crest of the canyon, I found the juniper tree and rocks I featured at the top pf the post.

The view included this leaning rock, which could be seen just behind the juniper.

And photographed it several times. This is it for today. But I’ll have several more views of the rock sculptures on my next PCT post.

NEXT POST: Back to Puerto Vallarta. P.S. I will be playing with various themes over the next few weeks, so don’t be surprised by the changing looks of my blog. ALSO: For those of you who haven’t read “The Bush Devil Ate Sam,” I will be posting a chapter once a month on the top ‘pages’ to give you a feel for the book and encourage you to buy it. Many thanks! This chapter reflects our first night in our Gbarnga home, appropriately titled: Armies of the Night!

Happy 2019… Said with Flowers— from the PCT

December 31, 2018 / Curt Mekemson / 30 Comments

There are lots of wild roses growing along the PCT, but it is rare that you find one so perfect.

Today, I just want to wish each and everyone of you who follow this blog a very happy and healthy New Year. And I want to thank you for joining Peggy and me on our journey as we wander through time and place. We are privileged to have you along.

What better way is there than to say it than with flowers. It works for Valentine’s Day, it works for Mother’s Day, and it works for numerous other special occasions, so why not New Years! I’m sure the floral industry would love this, but I am not talking about the flowers you buy from a florist. I am talking about the beautiful, wild, and free flowers you find growing along the trail, or the roadside, or on a vacant city lot, or in a park— the list goes on. Here, I am talking specifically about the flowers I found along the Pacific Crest Trail on my 700 mile backpack trek this last summer. You’ve already seen some of these. I have bunches. I suspect you will see more on Valentine’s Day. Enjoy!

Pretty face is an appropriate name for this flower.

Not sure what this flower is, but the butterfly obviously liked it.

There were several types of irises, a flower noted for variety. I believe this is a Siskiyou iris.

AGAIN— WISHING YOU THE BEST. We look forward to seeing you in 2019. Curtis and Peggy

Hiking on the PCT at 75… Carson Pass to Sonora Pass: Part 3

December 28, 2018December 28, 2018 / Curt Mekemson / 40 Comments

As a year filled with seemingly insurmountable national and international problems draws to a close, my mind turns to the beauty and the peace of my 700 mile journey down the PCT this past year. The issues of the everyday world fade as you are hiking up a mountain, providing a different perspective on what is important. As the renowned naturalist John Muir noted, “The clearest way into the Universe is through a forest wilderness.”

There were tough days out there— as tough as any I have ever faced— but even the most difficult were countered by the beauty of the areas I hiked through. It was a beauty that ranged from towering mountains down to the cheerful monkey flower above. Today, I will continue to share that beauty in my third post about the Pacific Crest Trail between Carson Pass and Sonora Pass in the central section of California’s Sierra Nevada Mountain Range.

Thistles are often thought of as invasive weeds, something to be chopped down or poisoned out. It is hard to think of this fellow as anything other than a beautiful wild flower.

I caught this Sierra thistle in full bloom.

When I backpack by myself, as I was on this section of the trail, I try to find secluded campsites. To me, it is much more of a wilderness experience. I lucked out with this little no-name lake. I had it to myself and there was no sign of people recently camping in the area. It was a bit of a challenge to climb out on these rocks and dip up my water, however. (grin)

The lake provided some great reflection shots, capturing the surrounding forest. They ranged from this impressionistic view…

As evening approached, thunderheads suggested I might be in for a rip-roaring thunder and lightning storm. I put on my rainfly.

I would have much preferred that to what I got. I woke up in the middle of the night to the strong smell of smoke creeping into my tent. I climbed out to make sure that there were no flames about! As it turned out, smoke from the Redding fire to the north and the Yosemite fire to the south had caught up with me. Above is how my little lake looked in the morning.

And as I hiked down the trail through the Mokelumne Wilderness.

Whenever smoke blocked views of the surrounding mountains during my hike down the PCT, I focused on closer views, like this massive granite boulder that was likely left behind by a glacier.

This sign made me smile. It was a good thing that I knew which direction I was traveling.

A gnarled tree caught my attention. I can’t help but think of hobbits and elves when I find such trunks.

Junipers can almost always be depended on to have unique personalities.

As I made my way south, some impressive mountains came into view. Checking my map, I found I would soon be climbing them, naturally.

And up I went, through the still smokey air. My 75 year-old lungs were not happy.

As through-hikers say, it is what it is, however, so I hiked on—and on— into some fascinating rock country, that I will feature on my next PCT post.

NEXT POST: Some thoughts on the New Year.

Who Ate the Gingerbread House? … Good Doggy, Bad Doggy

December 24, 2018 / Curt Mekemson / 22 Comments

I went searching for three wise men at Carowinds Amusement Park on the border of North and South Carolina. I didn’t find them. Maybe they were lost in the pre-Christmas crowd. But I did find one of their camels.

It’s Christmas Eve here in Charlotte, North Carolina. The tree is up and loaded with goodies. The gingerbread houses have been built and the Christmas cookies are ready to eat. (Minus those that Grandpa has already eaten. I have a serious responsibility to test the cookies as they come out of the oven. Sometimes I have to eat two, or three, just to be sure they meet my high standards.) Our son-in-law Clay will soon be up and preparing tonight’s roast. He’s one heck of a cook. All’s well with the world, or at least all is well with our little corner. And that’s enough for today.

Like Santa, we are in the middle of our holiday rounds. Last week, we were in Florida visiting with our son and his family. This week we are with our daughter and her family in Charlotte. It’s her turn to have us for Christmas. Next year is Tony’s turn, as we have already been reminded several times. (grin) Santa, of course, has the advantage of being able to be in both places. That’s because he has that magical sleigh and eight reindeer plus the red-nosed fellow. We have to travel by airplane, where we are lucky to arrive at all.

Santa dashing away on top of one of the rides at Carowinds.

Both sets of kids (and grandkids) decided it would be fun to check out the holiday decorations at major amusement parks this year: Busch Gardens in Florida and Carowinds in North Carolina. They were impressive:

Clay used his Google Android phone to capture this photo at Carowinds. (Clay works for Google as a manager at their data center in South Carolina.)

Both parks featured decorated trees. This is at Busch Gardens.

This tree with the moon hanging out above was at Carowinds.

As usual, I couldn’t resist a reflection shot. This is Carowinds.

A very big Christmas tree ornament at Carowinds.

As expected, both parks had impressive Christmas trees: Busch Gardens…

Carowinds. This tree, BTW, sits on the border between North and South Carolina.

Making gingerbread houses is a tradition at both houses, which isn’t surprising considering Peggy’s love of all things Christmas. The grandkids join in the effort with total dedication, except for eating half of the house decorations. They are not alone in their passion for jelly beans and M&Ms and candy canes, gumdrops etc. The doggies also have a sweet tooth. But which one ate the gingerbread house?

Was it Natasha and Clay’s dogs: Miss Innocence (Chima) here?

Or, “How could you even think I might eat the Gingerbread House? ” Lexi.”

Or Tony and Cammie’s Miss Definitely Not Me (Lyla).

Chima and Lexi were actually innocent— this time. Not that they wouldn’t eat a gingerbread house if someone left it on the floor by mistake and no-one was home. But they lack Lyla’s long legs. (Clay swears his dogs would not eat the gingerbread house.) Cammie and boys had just finished their house and were briefly out of the room. Cammie returned to find Lyla on her hind legs scarfing down their house. In Lyla’s defense, she had only thoroughly licked one side— but I am pretty sure that the house’s demise was just a matter of time. Anyway, here are the Cox family gingerbread houses:

Cody’s Robot House… Check out the teeth!

And Peggy’s. She would never be left out when it comes to building gingerbread houses.

While I didn’t catch Lyla’s well licked gingerbread house, Peggy and I found that our bedroom had been invaded by animals. This was special. Imagine kids loaning out their animals, even for a night! It was the true Christmas spirit.

Speaking of animals, Carowinds had put together a petting zoo for Christmas. It’s where I found the camel. There was also a very, very strange looking goat that looked like it was having a really bad hair day, that it was an ancient goat from another time…

I decided that it was… are you ready for this… The Goat of Christmas Past.

A VERY HAPPY HOLIDAY TO ALL OF OUR GREAT INTERNET FRIENDS. THANKS FOR FOLLOWING ‘WANDERING THROUGH TIME AND PLACE.’

CURT AND PEGGY

Four Days to Christmas… It’s a Zoo Out There

December 21, 2018December 20, 2018 / Curt Mekemson / 28 Comments

Face it, Christmas is not the time you want to hang out at the mall!

It’s that time of the year. Christmas is just a few days away. Most of your shopping is done. Hopefully. But the odds are there are a few last minute gifts you have to buy. You grit your teeth, grind your molars, and head for the mall. It’s an absolute zoo.

First of all, the parking lot is insane! Cars are parked everywhere. You feel like you are up to your tail in alligators.

You start looking for a parking place with a smile on your face…

Just when you think you’ve found the perfect spot, some one backs in and grabs it! And you even had your left turn signal on.

So you blow your horn and say non-Christmas-like things.

And in case the person didn’t get that, you add a gesture of good will.

The whole experience makes you want to bury your head.

Finally in the back of the back parking lot, you find a space. Hoping beyond hope that you will remember where your car is, you head into the mall prepared to do battle!

You know the perfect gift for Susy. She has been asking for it all year. Why oh why did you wait this long? When you get there, it’s the last one and someone else is there before you!

But do you know how I got these stripes?

I got them from eating zebras. Lots of them.

Shopping doesn’t get much easier. There are the big guys with armor on that crowd in front of you…

The fast sleek ones that dash about at 60 miles per hour, grabbing up the bargains…

And the tall ones that can spot gifts way before you do.

But eventually you are finished. With arms so loaded you that you can barely see, you go in search of your car that you swear someone has moved. And then you just swear. Eventually you find it, however, and are faced with the eternal dilemma: Will everything fit in your trunk?

By the time you get home, you are exhausted. It’s time for a well-earned nap…

Where you dream about eating large drumsticks for Christmas dinner. Squawk!

This is called what you do when you have been at Busch Gardens, taken lots of animal photos, and wonder how you can turn them into a Christmas theme. 🙂 Hope you enjoyed it. My next post will be more Christmassy. I promise. Maybe.

Oh No… Not Another Christmas Photo

December 19, 2018December 17, 2018 / Curt Mekemson / 19 Comments

Oh come on, Mom. You’ve already taken a million photos of me!

The cameras are out. It’s that time of the year. Open a present. Get your photo taken. “Hold up those socks, Joe. And smile. Aunt Tilda needs to know how much you like your gift.” Right. You know the routine. Put on deer antlers and get your photo taken. Take your photo with Grandma. She loves it. But where’s Grandpa. “How come Grandpa always has to go to the bathroom when photos are being taken Mom? He told me that photos give him gas.” And maybe it’s true. He looks like he’s got gas.

Peggy and I are visiting with our son Tony, his wife Cammie, and our grandkids Connor, Chris and Cooper on a pre-Christmas visit. We took a trip over to Bush Gardens yesterday. I took photos of the Chimp family for Christmas. I had my usual challenge getting anyone to smile.

And then there was Grandpa, doing everything he could to avoid having his photo taken— including glaring at the camera. Check out the father/son pose.

A black and white family portrait. At least I had persuaded both father and son to look toward the camera at the same time. A small miracle in itself.

And finally, maybe, just barely: a smile.

Then there is all the stuff about table manners at Christmas. Everyone is expected to be on their best behavior. And what are the odds of that happening? I dropped over to visit with the Gorilla family to check it out.

I’m not sure. Maybe stuffing yourself is a sign of good manners, like you really like the food.

What are you supposed to do when your plate is crammed high?

And what if someone adds chips? “Where’s the salsa?”

Always worth another handful. “These darn things are addictive.” How many times have you heard that as an excuse for eating more.

But back to the lettuce. Even Mom, the absolute guardian of good manners, seems to be spilling food down her front.

But finally, I find some real Christmas spirit. Sharing. “Here, son. Look what I brought you. More lettuce. Merry Christmas.”

NEXT POST: Maybe I’ll be back at Busch Garden in Florida, or on the Malecon in Puerto Vallarta, or hiking down the Pacific Crest Trail. You never know. I sure don’t. 🙂

Wandering through Time and Place

Exploring the world with Curtis and Peggy Mekemson

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