Ghost Towns of the Old West: Rhyolite… The Desert Series

July 2, 2014January 24, 2015 / Curt Mekemson / 28 Comments

Old grave at the ghost town of Rhyolite outside of Death Valley.

What better way to introduce a ghost town than to show where the ghosts live? This is one of the better kept grave sites in the Rhyolite cemetery. (Photo by Peggy Mekemson.)

What’s a desert without a ghost town or two?

Boom and bust are the go-to words when it comes to creating ghost towns in the desert. Gold, or some other valuable mineral is found. Miners, developers, speculators and others burning with get-rich-quick-itis rush in where angels fear to tread (wisely so). Eventually the vein runs out. Unless the town has other ways of providing a livelihood, people leave. The ghosts are left behind. That’s the story of Rhyolite.

Boom! At the beginning of January in 1905, Rhyolite was a non-town of two people. They struck it rich. Two weeks later the population had grown to 1200 people. By 1907 somewhere between 4,000 and 8,000 people called the place home. Apparently no one was interested in doing an accurate census count. But the small city had banks, a school, its own railroad, a hospital, an opera house, some 50 saloons and a generous smattering of ladies of the evening with hearts of gold, or at least pockets filled with gold coins. There was electricity, running water, and telephones.

Charles Schwab, the steel magnate, (as opposed to Charles Schwab of brokerage house fame) was the money behind the development of Rhyolite. Thomas Edison, who was responsible for inventing the electric lights that lit up the town, once called Schwab a master hustler. It fit, but Schwab’s hustling in Rhyolite failed to pan out (to use an old gold mining term).

Bust! In 1907, a British mining engineer discovered that the ‘fabulously high-grade ore’ mine Schwab had bought was actually filled with low-grade ore. By 1910 the banks were closed. The last train left town in 1916. A motor tour organized by the LA Times in 1922 found only one person remaining in the town, a 94-year-old man who died two years later. Rhyolite began its career as a ghost town.

For enquiring minds that want to know, Rhyolite is located approximately 120 miles north of Las Vegas and sits on the eastern edge of Death Valley, just outside the small Nevada town of Beatty. It is named after an igneous rock common throughout the area.

An old truck in the ghost town of Rhyolite, Nevada.

Ghost truck in Rhyolite. Its engine had long since departed.

Interior of old truck in Rhyolite, Nevada.

I was torn over which interior photograph I would use, but opted for the steering wheel and dashboard. It, and the faded surrounding mountains struck me as ghostly. The odometer had stopped at 45,438 miles. Or make that 45,438.5. It was rolling over to 45,439 when its roving days ended.

Cook Bank in the ghost town of Rhyolite, Nevada.

Once the pride of Rhyolite, the Cook Bank’s floors were marble and its windows were stain glass.

Almost everything of value was ripped out of the Cook Bank and Rhyolite in general. Many of the buildings in nearby Beatty, owe their existence to this pilferage. It led me to wonder why the fine bricks on top of the Cook Bank were still there. Were they a little difficult to reach, a little perilous to remove? (Photo by Peggy Mekemson.)

School in the ghost town of Rhyolite, Nevada.

I asked Peggy, a retired elementary school principal, to pose for me in front of Rhyolite’s school. Her hair, which totally has a mind of its own, had been teased by the desert wind.

Rattlesnake warning sign in Rhyolite, Nevada.

We laughed. If the reasonable approach doesn’t work, try another. (Photo by Peggy Mekemson.)

They say it is better to be on the inside looking out than the outside looking in. I don’t think it matters in Rhyolite. But I did like the composition that pulls you out toward the mountains.

HD and LD Porter sign in Rhyolite, Nevada.

A rather classy sign that is lucky it didn’t end up in an antique shop somewhere.

The old railway station at Rhyolite, Nevada.

Speaking of classy, Rhyolite’s railway station was, and still is an attractive building. Over the years it morphed into a hotel, casino, souvenir shop, all connected to Rhyolite’s ghost town status. (Photo by Peggy Mekemson.)

Old rail found near the ghost town of Rhyolite.

Most of the rails leading up to the station were pulled out and used during World War I, but I did find this old one in a junk pile behind the station.

One of the more intriguing buildings in Rhyolite, from my perspective, is this old caboose that was once used on the Las Vegas to Salt Lake line. It was reborn as a service station in Rhyolite to serve the visitors that came to visit the ghost town and probably the casino.

An inside view of the caboose located at Rhyolite, Nevada.

Looking inside the caboose.

Tom Kelly's hose made of glass bottles in Rhyolite, Nevada.

This house made of 30,00 glass bottles (mainly alcohol related– not surprising considering a couple of thousand thirsty miners), may be Rhyolite’s most famous building. 76-year-old Tom Kelly built it in 1905-06 and then auctioned it off at $5.00 a ticket.

Bottles used to make the Bottle House in the ghost town of Rhyolite, Nevada.

A close up of the bottles. The marks on the bottom indicate the company that made the bottles. AB stands for American Bottling Company, for example. (Photo by Peggy Mekemson.)

Hostetter Bitters Bottle used in the Bottle House at Rhyolite, Nevada.

A few bottles are more prominently displayed, such as this Dr. J. Hostetter Bitters bottle. While it was sold to cure what ailed your tummy, it contained up to 47 % alcohol. Earlier, Hostetter had sold the bitters to Union soldiers during the Civil War to fight off diseases they might catch while chasing Confederates through southern swamps.

A final ghostly reminder from the Rhyolite graveyard.

NEXT BLOG: Traveling a couple of hundred yards west of Rhyolite, we visit the Goldwell Open Air Museum

The Panamint Range of Death Valley: A Rattlesnake, Flowers, and Very Large Kilns… The Desert Series

June 28, 2014January 24, 2015 / Curt Mekemson / 30 Comments

We found this rather handsome fellow on our way up to Wildrose in Death Valley. Check out the shadow! (Photo by Peggy Mekemson.)

I crossed over the Panamint Range once on a bicycle. It wasn’t fun. Or let me put it this way, the nine-mile climb up out of Panamint Valley wasn’t fun. It was at the beginning of my 10,000-mile solo trip around the US. I only had seven days of cycling behind me so I was still getting in shape (massive understatement). Adding to the challenge, I was carrying over 50 pounds of gear, everything I needed to survive six months on the open road.

Standing out of the saddle in my lowest gear, and exerting every bit of muscle power I could, I averaged two miles an hour. And yes, it would have been much easier to get off my bike and push. But I am a stubborn when it comes to things physical. The ride down, on the other hand, was lovely and about 20 times as fast.

Our Toyota Tacoma thought nothing of the climb out of Death Valley to the Emigrant Canyon Road and on to Wildrose Canyon. In fact the pickup loves a challenge and likes to be on the road as much as Peggy and I do. Or maybe I am anthropomorphizing a bit too much here. (And don’t you just love that word, all 18 letters of it.)

We were lollygagging along on the Wildrose road and stopping often to photograph flowers when we passed the rattlesnake. Peggy was driving. “Stop, back up,” I urged. Laughing, Peggy complied. She’s used to my fascination with rattlesnakes. I’ve had dozens of encounters over the years. One of my favorite tricks is to get down on my belly in front of them to take photos as they crawl toward me. Unfortunately, my headshots are usually blurry. Could it be that I am backing up too fast?

Panamint Rattlesnake in the Panamint Mountains, Death valley.

Having determined that we weren’t edible, the large snake went on his way. Isn’t the head magnificent? It shouts pit viper.(Photo by Peggy Mekemson.)

This guy was a beauty, a Panamint rattler (Crotalus stephensi), and I would guess almost record size. He was on the driver’s side of the truck so I handed Peggy her camera and she snapped three shots. And then, before I could get out to the truck for some close-ups, she stepped on the gas and we were out of there. Can you imagine that? I whined for an hour.

The flowers soon assuaged my disappointment, however. At our elevation of around 5,000-7,000 feet, they were everywhere. While we were too late to catch flowers blooming in the valley, our trips up to Dante’s View and Wildrose more than made up for it.

Desert flowers in the Panamint Range of Death Valley.

I was taken by this old desert road that cut off the main road and was covered with flowers as far as the eye could see.

Hill covered with flowers in the Panamint Range of Death Valley.

And how about this hillside?

Prickly poppies growing in the Panamint Range of Death Valley.

These prickly poppies were attractive. Petals were tissue paper thin. The red beetle was quite busy.

I don’t know what this striking yellow beauty was. Maybe one of my readers can identify it. (Finally found it in one of my field guides. It’s called Desert Plume and is a member of the mustard family.)

Lupine growing in the Panamint Range of Death Valley.

This lupine, however, is an old friend. It is common throughout the west. Peggy is even growing some. What was amazing about this plant was its size. I would say around four feet tall.

Beyond the rattlesnake and the flowers, the highlight of the tour was the ten charcoal kilns built in by the Modoc Consolidated Mining Company in 1877 to prepare charcoal to be used in smelters at its lead-silver mine about 25 miles away. Local pinion pines and junipers were cut down and hauled to the kilns. It took approximately four cords of wood to fill one kiln. After 6-8 days for burning and another 5 days for cooling the charcoal was then transported by an army of jackasses.

The kilns, which were used for about three years, have sat quietly for over a century. Navajo Indian stonemasons from Arizona restored the kilns in 1971. (Photo by Peggy Mekemson.)

An interesting aside is that George Hearst was the principal investor in the mining company. His son, William Randolph Hearst, would go on to found the Hearst media empire. And it was his great grand-daughter, Patty Hearst, who was kidnapped by the Symbionese Liberation Army in the 70s. Where this is going is that I met Patty and her abductors in the Sierra Nevada Mountains. I was up with some friends scouting out streams for trout fishing when a van roared around us and got stuck in a snow bank, which we found rather amusing. A group of folks came tumbled out of the van including a young woman who came over to talk with us while her companions tried to dig out of the snow.

“Do you have any guns in your car?” she asked. “My friends have been teaching me how to shoot automatic weapons in the Bay Area and we are up here for practice today.” That’s when the alarm bells started going off for me. We were talking to Patty Hearst and her ‘friends’ were SLA members. When Patty wandered off to check on the van’s progress, I whispered my concerns to my friends and suggested we help get the van on its way, which is what we did.

But so much for the detour (grin). I was either going to tell you stories about rattlesnakes today or the Patty Hearst. Patty won. Back to the kilns.

Charcoal kiln in Panamint Mountains in Death Valley.

Peggy provides perspective on the size of the kilns that are 25 feet tall.

Back view of charcoal kilns in Death Valley.

Back view of kilns showing window where smoke escaped. You can still smell the smoke inside.

View looking out from inside a charcoal kiln in Death Valley.

View from inside the kiln looking out at the pines.

A final view from Wildrose. What appears to be puffy white clouds on the horizons are the snow-covered Sierra Nevada Mountains.

NEXT BLOG: What’s a desert without a ghost town, or two. We head off to the old mining town of Rhyolite sitting on the edge of Death Valley.

Death Valley Part II: We Are At Zabriskie Point but Where Is R2-D2… The Desert Series

June 25, 2014January 24, 2015 / Curt Mekemson / 28 Comments

Erosion of rocks created in an ancient lake bed gives Zabriskie Point its unique look.

Erosion of rocks gives Zabriskie Point its unique look.

Zabriskie Point is one of the most photographed spots in Death Valley. Tour busses stop here and disgorge thousands of passengers annually. Everyone comes armed with a camera, or at least a cell phone camera. Twenty shots or so later they are on their way, scurrying back to the bus and Death Valley’s next must-see sight. We are more leisurely in our approach, but we also take a more photos. Erosion is king here, wearing away rocks that were deposited in a lakebed some five million years ago– back before tectonic forces created Death Valley and back before the region became a desert.

As in other parts of Death Valley, the rocks of Zabriskie Point are multi-hued. (Photo by Peggy Mekemson.)

Manly Beacon or Point, is another popular view from Zabriskie Point. Justifiably so.

Peggy and I were at Zabriskie Point in the late afternoon. The rocks above Manly Beacon seemed to take on an inner glow.

The volcanic caprock provides an interesting contrast. (Photo by Peggy Mekemson.)

A three-mile trail leads down to the Valley floor from Zabriskie Point and passes through Golden Canyon on the way. For fans of Star Wars IV, segments of the movie were filmed in Golden Canyon. The diminutive, eye glowing Jawas captured R2-D2 and C-3PO there. So you can think of Death Valley as Tatooine, the home planet of Luke Skywalker. (Tunisia was also used for scenes on Tatooine.)

Golden Canyon looking out toward Death Valley. This photo and the one below were taken from an earlier trip. R2-D2 and C-3PO were captured in the canyon by the Jawas.

Golden Canyon looking up toward Zabriskie Point. I am on the trail. (Photo by Peggy Mekemson.)

Here’s some Star Wars trivia I picked up when doing research for this blog that you can use to wow your friends: sounds made by dogs, bears, lions, tigers and walruses were combined to create Chewbacca’s voice.

The Twenty Mule Team Canyon that I blogged about in my last post starts a mile or so above Zabriskie Point. A few miles farther, a road jogs off to the right that leads to Dante’s View, which towers some 5000 feet above the valley floor. The last part of the road is steep and narrow but the view is worth it.

Looking down into Death Valley from Dante’s View.

Dante's View provides a spectacular view of Death Valley.

Another perspective.

Given the higher elevation at Dante’s View, spring flowers were still blooming.

Indian Paintbrush at Dante's View in Death Valley National Park.

This is an Indian Paintbrush.

I took this photo to capture the very impressive alluvial fan spreading out on the Death Valley floor far below Dante's View. Debris coming down off the mountain had built this fan up over thousands of year.

I took this final photo from Dante’s View to capture the very impressive alluvial fan spreading out on the Death Valley floor far below. Debris coming down off the mountain had built this fan up over thousands of year.

NEXT BLOG: Traveling into the Panamint Range of Death Valley: wild flowers, huge charcoal kilns, and one very large, irritated rattlesnake.

Death Valley: Part I: The Twenty Mule Team Canyon… The Desert Series

June 21, 2014January 24, 2015 / Curt Mekemson / 29 Comments

Prepare to be dazzled with a kalaidiscope of color on a drive through Twenty Mule Team canyon in Death Valley.

Prepare to be dazzled with a kaleidoscope of color on a drive through Twenty Mule Team Canyon in Death Valley. Various minerals are responsible for the colors.

Death Valley is a land of superlatives. Think hottest, lowest, and driest place in North America. It holds the world record for heat at 134 ˚ F (57˚ C). Ground temperatures have actually been measured at 201˚ F. As for rainfall, there are years without any and the annual average is 2.36 inches (60 mm). Finally, a trip into Badwater Basin, easily reachable by car, will drop you down to 282 feet below sea level.

Given these extremes, a person might wish to travel to Death Valley for the sole purpose of saying he or she has been there. (Or conversely avoid Death Valley passionately.) But from my perspective, the reason for visiting Death Valley is its exotic beauty. Over the past three weeks, I’ve taken you to the Valley of Fire and Red Rock Canyon. Not bad on scenery, eh? Consider it a warm up.

I’ve been to Death Valley numerous times and have blogged about it in the past. On our recent trip, we climbed out of the valley and explored other parts of the National Park including Twenty Mule Team Canyon, Dante’s View, Zabriskie Point and the unusual Charcoal Kilns high up in the Panamint Mountains.

Today, we will begin our journey with a drive through the colorful badlands of Twenty Mule Team Canyon. Imagine for the moment, taking 18 mules and two horses, hitching them to a huge wagon, and hauling 10 tons of borax over desert terrain for 160 miles. That is how borax was hauled out of Death Valley between 1883-1889 and it has become part of the local lore and legend. Francis Smith, the founder of Pacific Borax was also a first class promoter and sent his mule teams out to major cities across the US to push his soap products. At one point, they paraded down Broadway in New York City.

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

This early, unattributed photo in the public domain, provides a view of the 20 mule team with its Death Valley backdrop. The driver had a very long bullwhip to encourage his mules along the way.

Old Dinah steam tractor in Death Valley National Park.

The mules were eventually replaced by a steam tractor. “Old Dinah” is featured at Furnace Creek. Dinah, in turn, was replaced by a railroad.

Twenty Mule Team Canyon was never part of the route the mules followed. So why the name? It could have been to honor the teams but I suspect it was the bright idea of a tour agent. Whatever, no harm was done. Twenty Mule Team Canyon provides a kaleidoscope of color, a laboratory of erosion, and a fun drive.

Road through Twenty Mule Team Canyon in Death Valley.

The 2.8 mile road through Twenty Mule Team Canyon is a fun drive but it isn’t made for large RVs or fifth wheels. (Photo by Peggy Mekemson.)

Scene on Twenty Mule Team Canyon road in Death Valley. Photo by Curtis Mekemson.

Every corner you turn brings a new view and most are quite dramatic…

Dramatic view along Twenty Mule Team Canyon road in Death Valley.

Case in point.

Road shot traveling through Twenty Mule Team Canyon in Death Valley National Park.

Another road shot. (Photo by Peggy Mekemson.)

View along the Twenty Mule Team Canyon road in Death Valley.

I liked the effect of these contrasting light and dark colors.

Photo of blue skies with puffy clouds provides backdrop for Twenty Mule Team Canyon in Death Valley.

Blue skies, light clouds provide a backdrop for gold, reddish-brown and tan rocks.

Trail in Twenty Mule Team Canyon, Death Valley.

A number of trails wander off into the rocks, inviting visitors to stay for a while and explore. (Photo by Peggy Mekemson.)

Funeral Mountains provide a dramatic backdrop in Twenty Mule Team Canyon, Death Valley.

Mountains provide the backdrop here. These, BTW, are the Funeral Mountains.

Distant mountains appear purple in Twenty Mule Team Canyon, Death Valley.

More distant mountains appear almost purple. (Photo by Peggy Mekemson.)

Peggy Mekemson checks out the view at Twenty Mule Team Canyon in Death Valley.

Peggy admires the view.

A final view of the riotous colors found in Twenty Mule Team Canyon.

NEXT BLOG: We check out what is probably the most photographed area of Death Valley, Zabriskie Point, and climb 5000 feet above the valley to Dante’s View floor for a bird’s eye perspective.

Escape from Las Vegas to the Red Rock Canyon… The Desert Series

June 18, 2014January 24, 2015 / Curt Mekemson / 41 Comments

Depending on traffic conditions, Red Rock Canyon National Conservation Area is 30-45 minutes outside of Las Vegas. It is hard to imagine two more diverse worlds.

Las Vegas shouldn’t exist.

Why would any sane person build a city in middle of a desert where summer temperatures regularly climb over 110 degrees F and annual rainfall hangs around 4 inches? Sure, it’s a great place for jackrabbits and rattlesnakes and scorpions and cacti and desert tortoises. Maybe even lonely miners, ladies of the evening, jet jockeys, crotchety cowmen, and aliens belong there.

What Las Vegas would look like without water.

What Las Vegas would look like without imported water.

But putting 1.8 million people into Las Vegas and the surrounding Clark County– what were they thinking? Everything has to be imported… and I mean everything including the ever-precious water for golf courses and tourists with bucks to toss. Cut off either one and Las Vegas is SOL. The city returns to the jackrabbits and LA sucks up any extra water from the Colorado River.

A jackrabbit. (Photo at Red Rock Canyon Museum.)

“I want my desert back.” Hoppy Jackrabbit. (Photo from Red Rock Canyon Museum.)

MONEY, of course, is the answer for the city’s existence– obscene amounts of it, like bundles and bundles and bundles. Mafia hit men joined together with Mormon bankers following World War II to build the Flamingo Casino and start milking the proverbial cash cow. This kicked off a spree of building pleasure palaces that continues even today, with each one being bigger and glitzier than the one before. The names and faces have changed, but the basic underlying purpose remains the same: separate tourists from their hard-earned cash, as quickly as possible.

Down around Fremont Street a touch of Old Vegas here mobsters ruled as been preserved. If you go down there, be sure to visit the Mobster Museum.

Down around Fremont Street, a touch of Old Vegas where mobsters ruled has been preserved. If you go down there, and you should, be sure to visit the mobster museum. The cowboy above would have been the epitome of neon lighting in its day.

Most of the older casinos in Las Vegas have now been replaced with fantasy creations that out-Disney Disney.

Now I confess to liking a little glitter from time to time. A stroll down the Strip drops me into Venice, New York City, Paris or even a pyramid. While pale in comparison to the real thing, the moguls of Las Vegas have spent billions creating these make-believe worlds. And the price of admission is right: free. At least it is if you can avoid the multiple temptations. I can’t. I am sure there is a quarter video poker machine out there that will make me rich beyond my wildest dreams, or at least pay for dinner. Or, failing all of that, cover the tourist tax. (Remember here, however, that I also believe in UFOs.)

Venice, Las Vegas style complete with fake sky and a singing gondolier.

Venice, Italy from our 2012 visit. (Photo by Peggy Mekemson.)

The real thing from our 2012 visit to the Mediterranean. (Photo by Peggy Mekemson.)

There comes that inevitable moment, however, when I have to escape the glitter, noise, and crowds for the wilderness. I have to return to my roots, to commune with nature. Luckily, it’s easy from Las Vegas. Last week I took you out to the Valley of Fire, a short hour drive away. Today we are going to visit Red Rock Canyon National Conservation Area, which is even closer, 30–45 minutes.

Truth be told, if I have to choose between urban fantasies and natural wonders, I’ll go for the natural wonders. We found this desert tortoise outside the Red Rock Canyon Visitor Center but you might see them anywhere in the park, as the sign below attests.

This gem sits on the edge of Las Vegas. An easy morning trip will get you there, around the park and back. The park features a one way, 13-mile drive with numerous turnouts. There are several hiking trails that crisscross the area. Many people also enjoy biking the route. I highly recommend starting your trip at the excellent visitor’s center.

Here are some views along the way.

Be sure to stop off at the Visitor’s Center for an overview of Red Rock Canyon. In addition to having excellent information on the park, it includes lots of fun things like this kid-sized snail sculpture.

Red Rock Canyon National Conservation Area.

You can also preview your route from the Visitor’s Center. The road snakes around the colorful hill in the foreground. (Photo by Peggy Mekemson.)

Red sandstone hill in Red Rock Canyon National Conservation Area outside of Las Vegas, Nevada.

A close up of the same hill taken from the road. One of Red Rock Canyon’s many hiking trails is seen at the base of hill.

As in the Valley of Fire, the various rock formations in Red Rock Canyon are carved out of ancient sand dunes that have been turned to rock. Peggy captures one of the formations here.

Photograph of Red Rock Canyon near Las Vegas Nevada.

What she saw through her lens. (Photograph by Peggy Mekemson.)

Sand Stone Quarry pull off in Red Rock Canyon National Conservation Area.

Pull offs from the road provide a number of opportunities to stop and admire the scenery. I took this shot from the Sand Stone Quarry pull off.

Which is where I also found this flower.

Pictoglyphs found in Red Rock Canyon National Conservation Area.

We found these Native American pictoglyphs near Willow Springs. Petroglyphs are made by pecking the rock surface with a rock. Pictoglyphs are made with natural paint derived from minerals. flowers, etc. The pigment for these handprints came from hematite, iron oxide.

Scenic mountain in Red Rock Canyon National Conservation Area.

I enjoyed the contrast in this Red Rock Canyon scene.

Mountains in Red Rock Canyon National Conservation Area framed by a juniper tree.

Juniper provided a frame for this photo of Red Rock Canyon mountains.

I thought these twin cactus flowers would provide a fitting conclusion for my blog on Red Rock Canyon National Conservation Area.

NEXT BLOG: Hello Death Valley!

Ancient Petroglyphs in the Valley of Fire State Park… The Desert Series

June 14, 2014January 24, 2015 / Curt Mekemson / 45 Comments

Petroglyphs found at the Valley of Fire State Park

Imagine walking around a corner and coming on this wall of petroglyphs. The red sandstone provided a dramatic canvas for early artists. (Photo by Peggy Mekemson.)

I first became aware of art from traditional cultures as a Peace Corps Volunteer in Liberia, West Africa. The power of its simplicity and almost magical connection with another world caught my imagination– as it had artists such as Picasso and Matisse in the early 1900s. I collected several pieces and brought them home. Two of my favorites are the medicine mask and the bush devil shown below.

African medicine mask from the Ivory Coast.

African Bush Devil from Liberia

It was a natural transition for me to like and appreciate the rock art of Native Americans in the Southwestern United States. Found in hundreds of locations, it reflects several thousand years of cultural traditions. The arid climate of the Southwest combined with the fact that petroglyphs are carved in stone has allowed for their preservation. Only modern man with his graffiti poses a threat.

The Valley of Fire State Park near Las Vegas, Nevada hosts a significant collection of petroglyphs. The rock art was created by a culture known as the Basket makers (2000-1450 years ago) and the Anasazi/Ancient Pueblo group (1500-850 years ago). The Anasazi lived throughout the Southwest and were responsible for creating the impressive cliff dwellings at Mesa Verde National Park. They mysteriously disappeared around 1300, a fact which still has archeologists searching for answers.

The majority of the petroglyphs at Valley Of Fire are found at a site named Atlatl Rock by the park. The atlatl was a carved stick used for throwing spears and is featured in petroglyphs at the site. A steep, metal stairway leads up to the petroglyphs. Most tourists stop, climb the stairs and then hurry on their way. Walking a few hundred feet in either direction, which most tourists don’t do, leads to the discovery of hundreds of other petroglyphs– and Chuck. Following is a sample of what we found on our walk-about.

Petroglyph wall at Valley Of Fire State Park in Nevada.

A closeup of the petroglyph wall shown above. Can you find the dog?

Dog petroglyph at the Valley of Fire State Park.

The dog– or what I think is a dog, is located in the photo above on the left beneath what may be a river.

Petroglyph trees at Valley of Fire State Park in southern Nevada.

I have never seen such a direct representation of trees in petroglyphs. It is possible they are being struck by lightning. And check out the strange horned being on the right. He likely has shamanistic connections.

Petroglyph showing use of an atlatl at Valley of Fire State Park near Las Vegas, Nevada.

I am intrigued by this petroglyph. The figure in the upper left is using an atlatl to launch a spear. But follow the line down. It starts from his left leg, passes through what appears to be a fox or coyote, and then becomes a big foot. How would you interpret this? On the left, you can see graffiti scratched on the stone by more recent visitors.

Petroglyph showing birth at Nevada's Valley Of Fire State Park.

Early rock artists could be quite graphic in their depictions. This shows a child being born. I like to think of it as an early day birth announcement: “Big Bear and Bird Song are proud to announce the birth of their first daughter…” Not sure what the bird is doing sitting on her head. Maybe it’s a singing telegram. (Photo by Peggy Mekemson.)

Big horn sheep petroglyph at Valley of Fire State Park in Nevada.

Big horn sheep, from our experience, are the most common animal found on Southwest petroglyphs, which speaks to their importance, probably as a food source.

Donkey-like petroglyph at Valley of Fire State Park.

Given that donkeys weren’t around in North America when this petroglyph was created, I don’t have a clue what this animal is. The ears may be antlers, but even then… Any ideas?

Big horn sheep petroglyph with sun at Valley of Fire State Park.

The sun is shining down on this big horn sheep. What surprised me were the eyes. It is unusual to see eyes on an animal petroglyphs. (Photo by Peggy Mekemson.)

Petroglyphs high on cliff at Valley of Fire State Park.

We often find petroglyphs perched high up on cliffs and marvel at the rock artists ability to climb up and do their work.

Petroglyphs on cliff at Valley of Fire State Park in Nevada.

Here is a closer photo of the work they were doing, and my final photo for this blog.

NEXT BLOG: On to Red Rock Canyon.

The Valley of Fire State Park: Part II… The Desert Series

June 11, 2014January 24, 2015 / Curt Mekemson / 34 Comments

Chuckwallas are commonly found in the Valley of Fire State Park in Nevada and throughout the Mojave Desert.

Chuck, the chuckwalla, was quite curious about why we were wandering around his rock pile.

Meet Chuck. Peggy and I discovered him as we were hiking around in the rocks looking for petroglyphs at the Valley of Fire State Park. I can’t say he was friendly, but he certainly wasn’t scared. Mainly he was curious. I was almost on top of him before he crawled into a shadowy crevice.

Chuckwallas are rather impressive members of the lizard family that can grow up to 16 inches in length. Their primarily vegetarian diet apparently serves them well. (Not that they are above scarfing down an occasional insect.) They are found throughout the deserts of the Southwest. They hide in cracks when being chased and puff up their bodies so whatever is chasing them can’t yank them out. Most predators depart with little more than a bony lizard tail for dinner. The chuckwalla is then free to go on its way and grow a new one.

Having tired of me snapping photos, Chuck heads into a crevice. He is still keeping an eye on me, though.

Having tired of me snapping photos, Chuck heads into a crevice. He is still keeping a curious eye on me, though. Note the loose skin– just waiting to be puffed out.

As I mentioned in my last blog, plants have done a remarkable job of adapting to desert life. Dilly-dallying is not an option when rain falls. Annual desert plants can grow, bloom, and produce seeds in a few short weeks. The seeds then wait a year, or longer, for the next rain to come along. Others, like cacti, slurp up and store enormous amount of water for later use. Some plants have deep roots to gather water and tiny leaves to prevent its loss.

Scene from the Valley of Fire State Park in Nevada.

Desert plants have adapted well to their environment. I really like the touch of green here.

I thought this dead bush spoke to the harsh living conditions found in the desert. I also thought it made a great subject for my camera.

Yucca plants in Valley of Fire State Park. Photo by Curtis Mekemson.

Yucca plants have a two tier root system. One shoots out laterally from the plant and is designed to capture rain when it falls. The other is a deep tap-root designed to reach water during dry times.

Flowering yucca in the Valley of Fire State Park. Photo by Curtis Mekemson.

A close up of the yucca’s flowers.

The primary reason for visiting the Valley of Fire is its magnificent rocks, however. I presented several photos in my last blog. Here are more.

Red and tan sandstone in the Valley of Fire.

The sandstone formations found in the Valley of Fire are close to pure silica. The difference between the tan and red rock is that a small amount of iron has produced a rust-like stain.

Peggy captured this impressive red mountain, which along with the red and tan sandstone rock on front provides another example of iron staining. The famous Red Wall of the Grand Canyon is also an example. (Photo by Peggy Mekemson.)

Peggy captured this impressive red mountain, which along with the red and tan sandstone rock in front, provides another example of iron staining. The famous Red Wall of the Grand Canyon is also an example. (Photo by Peggy Mekemson.)

White Dome in Valley of Fire State Park outside of Las Vegas, Nevada.

The White Dome graces the end of the road in the Valley of Fire. (Photo by Peggy Mekemson.)

White Dome and companion peak.

Balanced Rock in the Valley of Fire State Park, Nevada. Photo by Curtis Mekemson.

Balanced Rock. How does it do it?

The Beehive Rock in Valley of Fire State Park outside of Las Vegas, Nevada.

This rock in the Valley of Fire State Park is appropriately named the Beehive.

A final view of the beauty.

NEXT BLOG: The ancient Native America rock art found in the Valley of Fire State Park.

The Mystery and Beauty of Deserts: The Valley of Fire State Park… Part I

June 8, 2014January 24, 2015 / Curt Mekemson / 28 Comments

Valley of Fire State Park outside of Las Vegas, Nevada.

Traveling through deserts, you occasionally have the feeling that you can see forever as range after range of mountains disappear into the distance.

Deserts are known for their minimal water, fiery temperatures and vast open spaces. Most people believe they are best seen while travelling at 70 plus miles per hour on a modern freeway with the air conditioning cranked up high. It’s unfortunate.

Deserts can be places of rare beauty. Mountains and rock formations burst into riotous colors at sunrise and sunset. Spring rains bring carpets of wildflowers. Even the open spaces have a unique appeal. At times you feel you can see forever.

Deserts also have a fascinating story to tell. Ancient petroglyphs whisper of human occupation dating back thousands of years. Geology is up front and personal– what you see is what you get. And plants and animals demonstrate the amazing ability of nature to adapt, and even thrive, under extreme conditions.

Over the next three weeks I’ll be blogging about three desert areas that Peggy and I recently visited: the Valley of Fire, Red Rock Canyon and Death Valley. All three are an easy day trip outside of Las Vegas, Nevada and all three are definitely worth a visit. Spring and fall are the best times to go.

First up: Valley of Fire.

Located 58 miles northeast of Las Vegas off of I-15, the Valley of Fire’s main attraction is erosion-carved red sandstone that owes its existence to massive sand dunes that covered the region some 150 million years ago, back when dinosaurs still roamed the earth.

The first ‘tourists’ to visit the area were the Anasazi, who apparently dropped in on a regular basis between 300 BC and 1150 AD. Limited water discouraged permanent settlement but they left behind numerous petroglyphs, which I will feature in another blog.

Hollywood, too, has discovered the Valley of Fire. Portions of several movies have been filmed in the area including Total Recall with Arnold Schwarzenegger and Star Trek Generations, where Captain Kirk fell to his death– until he was reborn as a slightly pudgy spokesperson for Priceline. “Beam me up, Scotty.”

The Valley of Fire is Nevada’s oldest state park. The best way to experience it (beyond going there) is through photos. Enjoy.

Folded and eroded red sandstone welcomes the visitor to the Valley of Fire State Park.

Up close, the sandstone rocks reveal a fascinating world of caves and shapes.

Caves invite exploration. (Photo by Peggy Mekemson.)

What hides inside? Will there be treasure? Or a grumpy Indiana Jones type snake?

It definitely fits my concept of treasure. (Photo by Peggy Mekemson.)

It easy to see faces and creatures in the carved sandstone. Is this a dinosaur from 150 million years ago striving to break free?

There is also an occasional arch that demands to be admired. (Photo by Peggy Mekemson.)

Spring rains can bring an amazing display of flowers in the desert. (Photo by Peggy Mekemson.)

Spring rains can bring a display of flowers in the desert. (Photo by Peggy Mekemson.)

Blooming cactus at Valley of Fire State Park.

I found this and the following cacti blooming outside of the Visitor’s Center. Check out the spines.

Cactus blooming at Valley of the Fire State Park near Las Vegas, Nevada.

A yellow beauty.

Cactus Flower buds at Valley of Fire State Park in Nevada.

The buds are almost as pretty as the flowers.

Next blog: More great scenery from the Valley of Fire State Park.

Area 51: Where Conspiracy Theories about Aliens Breed Like Rabbits

June 4, 2014January 24, 2015 / Curt Mekemson / 37 Comments

Gate to top secret Area 51 in southern Nevada.

The back gate to Area 51. Do you get the idea they don’t want you trespassing? (Photo taken by Peggy Mekemson)

When Peggy and I were planning our three-week foray into Nevada recently, we decided to include Area 51, that most secret of secret places.

And how secret is it, you ask?

Since we are talking about aliens, let me ask a probing question– or two. Do you believe that UFOs exist? Or even more to the point, have you ever seen one? Consider this: If they do exist and one actually crashed at Roswell, New Mexico, Area 51 is where the US Government would have it stored and tested. That’s how secret the facility is.

For decades, the government even refused to admit it existed. Top-secret clearance might get folks through the first gate, but not necessarily the second. Workers were flown in on Monday and flown home on Friday. They couldn’t tell anybody, not even their spouses, where they had been. No wonder the area became a legendary breeding ground for conspiracy theories about the government hiding things.The government was hiding things.

The U-2 spy plane was tested here, as was its more sophisticated sibling, the A-17, and almost every other secret airplane the US has developed since. When the US captured a Soviet Mig at the height of the Cold War, it was brought to Area 51 to check it capabilities. Top Gun pilots from the navy were brought in to fly against it. Think drones are new? The CIA was experimenting with them here in 1962. And I can’t begin to imagine what we don’t know about.

But what about UFOs, the mysterious flying saucers that seem to appear from time to time. There were several ‘sightings’ in Northern California and Southern Oregon earlier this year. Glowing objects flew across the sky in unison, stopped to hover, and then zipped off at lightning speed. Reports appeared on local TV shows. Flying saucer aficionados will swear they were the real things. Naysayers will argue vehemently that they weren’t. Neither Peggy nor I saw them. Darn.

I did see one once, however. Or at least I can’t think of what else it might have been. I was standing on my porch in Sacramento in 1969. A movement caught my attention and I looked up just in time to see a round, saucer-shaped, grey metallic object disappear into a cloud. As my jaw dropped and my rational mind shouted at me to toss the scotch, the object flew out the cloud in the opposite direction and accelerated away, disappearing in a matter of seconds.

Needless to say, I have been interested in UFOs ever since. Hundreds, if not thousands of other people have had similar experiences including both Jimmy Carter and Ronald Reagan– not to mention several astronauts.

Area 51 is a mecca for UFO enthusiasts. The big story is that the remains from Roswell are housed here. But frequent sightings of UFOs are also reported in the region. A government explanation is that the experimental planes being tested are what people see. It seems plausible. A plane flying at 60,000 feet while traveling over 2000 MPH is pretty UFO-ish. There have even been correlations made between when the test flights have been held and UFOs spotted.

A good conspiracy theorist will be quick to point out, however, that the correlations have been made for some, but not all of the sightings. She might also argue that when the flights are made is when you would expect to see UFOs. The little green men with big eyes are checking us out. The experimental flights represent some of the world’s top technology, the gateways to space… the final frontier. And do the little green men really want us out among the stars?

A possible reason for not is right next-door– where America carried out the majority of her nuclear bomb testing. Over 100 above ground tests and 800 underground tests were performed between 1951 and 1992 when President Clinton finally shut down the operation. It makes you want to travel through the area with a Geiger counter as well as your binoculars and a camera– the latter to capture UFOs and the former to check out how much radiation your body is absorbing.

Monitoring for radiation downwind from the Nevada Atomic Test Site is serious business– even today, years after the testing was halted. This station is found in Rachel but there are several more scattered throughout the region. Regular reports are issued on how much radiation is found.

And where do I stand on Area 51? Amused. Okay, and I confess curious. The region makes me want to break out theme music from the 1962 Twilight Zone TV series: neenar-neenar, neenar-neenar, and do a UFO dance. Hey it works for rain, right? Maybe I could attract a flying saucer.

I was in the Nevada town of Tonopah doing my research on Area 51 and the Extra Terrestrial Highway when I discovered the tiny community of Rachel and its sole motel: the Little A’le’Inn. Boy did I get excited. Rachel backs up to Area 51. We could stay at the A’le’Inn. I called and made reservations. The next morning, Peggy and I were up early and on the road.

Peggy and I always stay at the Tonopah Station motel in Tonopah. You are invited to roll dice for a free room. I also like the bear.

Peggy and I always stay at the Tonopah Station motel in Tonopah. You are invited to roll dice for a free room. We also like the bear.

Business card for Little A'le'Inn in Rachel Nevada.

Since we were headed for Area 51, we decided it was important to stay where Earthlings were welcome.

Driving the back roads of Nevada is a lonely occupation. Thirty minutes or more can pass between meeting cars. I like it. We headed east out of Tonopah on Highway 6, passed by the Tonopah Test Range and climbed over Warm Springs Summit, which brought us to Highway 375, the Extraterrestrial Highway. The highway received its designation in 1996 when the Nevada Tourism Commission thought it might serve to draw tourists to this remote part of Nevada.

The vast openness and minimal population of the deserts of Southern Nevada make it an ideal location for testing everything from airplanes to rockets.

It isn’t unusual to travel 20-30 minutes along the ET Highway and not meet another car. There is no need to worry about rush hour traffic.

In fact we saw more cattle than we saw cars– and we didn't see many cattle. Open Range, BTW, means no fences and public land. It does not mean Free Range as Cliven Bundy, the Nevada rancher who runs his cattle on BLM land and refuses to pay a grazing fee would have you believe. It's our taxes that pay to feed Bundy's cattle.

In fact we saw more cattle than we saw cars– and we didn’t see many cattle. Open Range means no fences and public land. It does not mean Free Range as Cliven Bundy, the Nevada rancher who runs his cattle on BLM land and refuses to pay grazing fees would have you believe. It’s our taxes that help feed Bundy’s cattle.

BTW: I thought this cow looked a little alien. Hmm. Or is it just a bum steer?

The ET designation definitely caught the attention of Twentieth Century Fox. The media giant used the highway’s renaming as a promotion for its movie, Independence Day, which revolves around an alien invasion of the world, features Area 51 prominently, and came out in 1996. It’s one of Peggy’s favorite movies, which means I see it a lot, every July Fourth to be exact.

Twentieth Century Fox placed this Independence Day movie memorial in front of the Little A’le’Inn. Numerous sci-fi movies, TV series and books about aliens have included Area 51– including Indiana Jones.

Rachel is located about halfway along the 98-mile road. One sticker-covered sign outside of town proclaimed we were on the Extraterrestrial Highway. Another welcomed us to Rachel and announced that the community is made up of humans and possibly aliens. You can’t miss the A’le’Inn. A tow truck carrying a flying saucer is parked out front.

Extraterrestrial Highway sign in Southern Nevada.

So many stickers are posted on the ET Highway sign, it is difficult to read. I figure it’s a toss-up between free advertising and people saying “I was here.”

The welcome sign to Rachel, Nevada.

Tow truck and 'flying saucer' in Rachel, Nevada.

The Little A’le’Inn has a tow truck carrying a broken down ‘flying saucer’ out front. (Photo by Peggy Mekemson.)

Advertising sign on the side of the Little A'le'Inn in Rachel, Nevada.

The Little A’le’Inn is not subtle in drawing attention to its Area 51 connection. (Photo by Peggy Mekemson.)

Self parking sign.

We walked into the bar/restaurant/motel office. It was crammed full of ET memorabilia and souvenirs. The ceiling of the bar was covered with dollar bills hanging down in rows. An older woman, looking a touch crusty, was perched on a bar stool while a younger woman stood behind the bar. I mentioned we had a reservation. “But do you have a name,” the bar stool occupant demanded. I gave it, our reservation was found in a card box, and the bartender/waitress was directed to show us to our room. She strolled across the restaurant, opened the back door and pointed to a blue and white trailer about 100 yards away.

“Oh, and by the way, you will be sharing the trailer and its bathroom with another family tonight.”

Dollars were stuck above the bar at the Little A’le’Inn. Each one includes names of visitors to the restaurant/motel.

An alien at the Little A'le'Inn in Rachel, Nevada.

The restaurant was filled with souvenirs and memorabilia relating to UFOs and aliens.

A view of our motel ‘room’ from the Little A’le’Inn restaurant. Peggy is standing in front of the trailer.

With some trepidation about who our ‘neighbors’ might be, we drove over to check out our accommodations and unpack. The neighbors weren’t there yet so we did a walk-through. An old style kitchen gave way to a living room with comfortable furniture, bright red curtains and an old, non-working TV. Our small bedroom contained an even smaller bed. We’d have a cozy night. The joint bathroom was next. Two more bedrooms finished off the trailer. Apparently the kitchen and living room were also common property. We’d be one big happy family.

Motel room at Little A'le'Inn in Rachel, Nevada.

Our living room complete with red curtains and a TV that didn’t work.

We had just unpacked when a car drove up to the back door. I soon heard keys rattling but apparently the lock didn’t want to cooperate. I walked over to the door and opened it, and met (drum roll please)… aliens. I kid you not. The Hibberts were from England. And they were delightful. Within 30 minutes we were sitting around the living room, drinking wine and swapping tales.

Roy, Brian, and Lynne Hibbert from Bolton, England.

Roy, Ryan, and Lynne Hibbert from Bolton, England.

Roy travelled the world for the software giant Citrix. On his off time he travelled more but he also delivered medicine in Africa by motorcycle. Lynne was a Sister at a hospital in Bolton, where they lived near Liverpool. I was still getting my head around Lynne being a nun and having a family when she explained that Sisters in English hospitals are what we call nurses in the US. Apparently, she was a jack-of-all-trades, assisting in everything from open-heart surgery to baby delivery. You’d want to keep your operations straight. Their son, Ryan, was a student, presently studying Russian as he prepared for a road trip to Russia. He already spoke French.

“How did you choose this remote corner of the earth to visit?” Peggy asked with a leading question. Peggy’s good at leading questions; she’d make a great detective.

“It was the movie Paul,” Roy explained. “It was filmed here.” We looked blank. “You haven’t seen Paul?” he asked, his voice dripping in disbelief. The family jumped in to enlighten us.

We found the movie a few nights later when we were channel surfing on our TV at the Hilton Grand in Las Vegas. I would describe Paul as an R-rated ET. He’s got the same look, but his language is a lot more colorful than “ET call home.” Besides being peppered with swear words and probing jokes, the movie pokes fun at religion and has references to numerous sci-fi movies ranging from Star Wars, to Men in Black, to Close Encounters. Sci-fi movie buffs must love it. There is even a cameo voice appearance by Steven Spielberg. Peggy and I found the movie quite funny, but we do recommend reviewing it before sharing with children.

Our discussion with the Hibberts continued over dinner at the restaurant. A movie poster signed by Paul and the cast of the film overlooked out table. We learned from our waitress that the movie wasn’t actually filmed on location, much to the dismay of the motel’s owners. A replica of the A’le’Inn was recreated in New Mexico. Roy was even more dismayed. He’d come a long ways to see the original setting.

Poster for the movie Paul hanging on the wall of the A'le'Inn in Rachel, Nevada.

A poster from the movie Paul hung on the wall above us. Cast members had signed the poster, including Paul who proclaimed his love.

We parted from our new friends the next morning. They were headed back to Las Vegas (via Santa Barbara) and we were headed out to the back gate of Area 51. Fortunately, the A’le’Inn had a 25-cent map. There are no marked roads. In fact our GPS didn’t show a road. It did show, however, that we were rapidly approaching somewhere we definitely shouldn’t be. In case there was any doubt, numerous signs at the gate made it abundantly clear: Keep Out. Having satisfied our curiosity we took a few photos and headed back for the Extraterrestrial Highway. We had a final stop to make: the Black Mailbox.

Map showing Rachel, Area 51, and roads. We followed the road next to Rachel that led to the back gate. The main part of Area 51 is located at Groom Lake, located just below the Area 51 name.

Map showing Rachel, Area 51, and roads. We followed the road next to Rachel that led to the back gate. The main part of Area 51 is located at dry Groom Lake, found just below the Area 51 name.

The unmarked, unpaved road into the back Gate of Area 51. Groom Lake is located behind the mountains on the left.

What our GPS showed. According to it, we were off-road heading somewhere we had no business being.

Back gate to Area 51 near Rachel, Nevada.

We slowed down as we approached the back gate to Area 51. I was driving and Peggy was snapping photos. A close up of the gate with its warning signs kicks off this blog.

The Black Mailbox is the only sign you will find marking the front entrance to Area 51. Flying saucer fans claim it is one of the best places in America to see UFOs. They gather around it at night and scan the skies. Actually, the mailbox belongs to a local rancher and is now painted white; or it is if you can see through the graffiti and stickers.

The Black Mailbox noting the entrance to Area 51 on the ET Highway in southern Nevada.

The infamous Black (white) Mailbox with its numerous stickers and graffiti. Its location is shown on the map I posted above.

We were taking photos of the mailbox when a car screeched to a stop across the highway and a guy jumped out. He dashed into the desert. My first thought was, wow, that guy really has to go. But he ran back to his car, jumped in and took off like a hundred mad aliens were on his tail. “What the heck?” we wondered. And then it struck me. He was involved in the sport of geocaching where you find hidden treasures along the road. Apparently it is quite popular on the Extraterrestrial Highway. I took a picture of the area. It was time to leave the lonely desert and head for the bright lights of Las Vegas, where many more treasures are lost than found. But back to my original questions: 1) Do you believe in flying saucers? 2) Have you ever seen one?

Geocache site on the Extraterrestrial Highway.

The man ran past the Joshua Trees and into the desert. I believe a geocache is located to the right of the tree under the white rock.

The Extraterrestrial Highway of Southern Nevada.

I selected this as my last photo of the Extraterrestrial Highway because I love the way it mystically disappears into the distant mountains, appropriately symbolic of the highway and Area 51.

Hawthorne, Nevada: A Small Town with Explosive Potential… Big Time

May 29, 2014January 24, 2015 / Curt Mekemson / 55 Comments

Bazooka at the Hawthorne Museum in Hawthorne, Nevada.

The Hawthorne Ordnance Museum is chockfull of military hardware, which I confess to knowing very little about. I can only wander around and stare. I confess, however, that I thought these instructions were something I could follow in an emergency, like when a tank was crawling up our driveway. You want the smaller end in front. Cover your ears.

Small towns come in a variety of flavors– each one unique. And it is my experience that the small towns of Nevada are more unique than most. Maybe it comes from their boom and bust history as old mining towns. Derelict mines and falling down shacks dot the landscape. Certainly their existence on the remote edge of nowhere has an impact, as does their extreme desert climate. Whorehouses perched on the outskirts of many towns provide a unique, Old West twist. Prostitution is still legal. The state is a do your own thing kind of place.

And finally, there is the omnipresent military. Nevada is America’s go to place for testing the latest, most secret military hardware, for training troops, and for practice at blowing things up. Thousands of square miles are devoted to these pursuits. As a child growing up in the foothills of the Sierra Nevada Mountains, I remember getting up at 5 AM to watch the eastern sky lit up by an atomic blast 50 or so miles north of Las Vegas. It was apocalypse now but we were taught that our ability to destroy the world assured a safe future. No wonder the youth of the 60s and 70s turned to drugs.

Hawthorne, Nevada has a slightly different connection to the military. It’s where old military ordnance goes to die. Some thirty-three hundred cement bunkers spread out from the town across the desert over 147,000 acres. 400 miles of underground railroads connect the various bunkers. If all the munitions decided to blow at once, it would make a very big BOOM.

That’s what happened in 1926 when the Navy’s principal ammunitions depot located in Lake Denmark, New Jersey blew up, wiping out the town and killing 50 people. It was decided that a more remote location was needed for storing munitions. Hawthorne fit the description. The site was officially adopted in 1930. By the 1940s Hawthorne had become known as the “World’s Largest Ammunition Depot,” providing munitions for most of the Allies’ Pacific operations during World War II. In addition to being remote, the site had the advantage of being out of reach to Japanese bombers.

Ammunition bunkers at Hawthorne, Nevada.

This gives an idea of what the bunkers look like and the remote nature of Hawthorne. Note the bunkers behind the buildings looking like burial mounds and stretching off into the distance.

During World War II, most of the munitions used by Allied Forces in the Pacific were stored at Hawthorne. This is an original paper displayed in the museum.

Today the depot boasts the latest technology for disposing of “unserviceable munitions,” which is carried out by a private firm, the Day Zimmerman Hawthorn Corporation. Have you noticed how more and more of America’s military chores are being carried out by private firms? As an aside, way back in the early 1900s, Day Zimmerman invented the machines that put foil on Hershey Chocolate Kisses.

The Hawthorne Ordnance Museum is a must see place if you ever find yourself zipping between Reno and Las Vegas on Highway 95. For one, the museum’s claim to fame is being“the Single Largest Museum Collection of Inert Ordnance, Missiles, Bombs, Rockets and Nuclear Weapons in the World.” For two, it has a great group of friendly and knowledgeable volunteers– more than prepared to talk your ears off. For three, the collection is somewhat eclectic. Like what was the old cash register doing there?

Hawthorne Ordinance Museum in Hawthorne, Nevada.

A front view of the museum. Ordnance, such as this bunker buster in the foreground, is found outside as well as inside.

An antique cash register at the Hawthorne Ordnance Museum in Hawthorne, Nevada.

This should take you back in time.

Harold Warner was on duty when Peggy and I showed up an hour or so before closing time. We had visited the museum before but Harold was quick to point out that there were some new kids on the block: nuclear missiles that he had gussied up with a paint job. He was quite proud and they looked, um, quite deadly. You did get the inert part, right.

Inert nuclear missile at the Hawthorne Ordnance Museum in Hawthorne, Nevada.

Harold was quite proud of the paint job on this inert nuclear missile.

A couple of guys from California (looking very militia-like) were wandering around ogling the military hardware. They approached Harold about purchasing automatic weapons. He was quick to tell them that the museum’s collection wasn’t for sell but softened the blow somewhat by suggesting they could probably pick up whatever they wanted by visiting local garage sales.

Harold told us that many of the troops going to Afghanistan did their training in Hawthorne. Considering the stark desert, it made sense. What fascinated me more, however, was that he also said that the locals from the town served as the insurgents for training purposes, sort of the B Team. No thanks, I thought to myself, picturing a platoon of marines chasing me across a nighttime desert as I dodged between bunkers filled with deteriorating bombs.

I like a good adventure, but there are limits.

Visit the Hawthorne Ordnance Museum website or check out it’s Facebook page for more information. Here are a few more photos.

Custer bomb at Hawthorne Ordnance Museum in Hawthorne, Nevada.

Any idea what this is? It’s a cluster bomb– lots of little bombs inside a big bomb. The probably contain enough shrapnel to take out a national forest.

Machine gun at the Hawthorne Ordinance Museum in Hawthorne, Nevada.

Going nose to nose with a machine gun. Note to children: Don’t try this at home.

Bullets and a machine gun at the Hawthorne Ordnance Museum in Hawthorne, Nevada.

Checking out the machine gun from the other end.

Ammunition at the Hawthorne Ordnance Museum in Hawthorne Nevada.

A final photo from the museum.

NEXT BLOG: Drum Roll Please… Peggy and I disappear into the heart of the Nevada desert and Area 51 searching for ET.

Wandering through Time and Place

Exploring the world with Curtis and Peggy Mekemson