Another night of rowdy battering wind, followed by the dreaded sound of raindrops on my tarp at dawn.
I was not anxious to get up and get going. I would be heading east through the VonTrigger Hills, then strike out across the mostly flat Lanfair Valley to the foot of the Piute Mountains. As is usual in the Mojave, I would be totally exposed to any bad weather.
I decided to give the weather function on my satellite beacon a try. I would let technology decide if I should get up and going while the going was less bad, or if I should wait it out.
The beacon beeped its reply: current chance of rain 100%; chance at 9AM, 0%. This was a passing squall. Good news for me, bad news for the plants and animals suffering through the drought.
This little fellow is another victim of the drought.
With an easy day ahead I stayed inside for a leisurely breakfast of coffee with ham and eggs. My slothfulness was soon rewarded by clearing skies and I packed up and set out across the desert.
The Vontrigger Hills were not high or steep, but they were confusing. I headed up the wrong ridge or down the wrong gully a couple of times, setting myself up to go around in a big circle. A bit of backtracking and more attention to my maps solved that problem. I was soon on the other side, out in the open, and picked up the old mining roads I would follow for most of the day.
Following a jeep road may not seem like a pristine wilderness experience. And maybe it isn’t. But for all intents and purposes, these are two-track foot trails, and they make hiking the desert sooo much easier. You don’t have to keep checking your heading. You don’t have to keep navigating around cactuses, yuccas, catclaws and other thorny plant life. You don’t have to worry if there is a rattlesnake behind every bush and rock you step over. You can just walk.
The jeep roads took me through a mining area marked as “Tungsten Flats” on the map. The old mines presented both as abandoned open shafts and elaborately sealed mines. The romance of old mining operations is pretty much lost on me, so I spent little time checking them out.
I was more interested in the views. Views that I was free to look up at, not having to watch every step. Views of the Piute Mountains ahead, the Hackberry Mountains behind, the New York Mountains in the distance at the head of the Lanfair Valley. After the challenging climbs of the first three days, it was nice to be able to just stroll across the desert and enjoy the light and the feeling of unlimited space.
By late afternoon I had made it to the southern foot of the Piute Mountains. With the wind still strong and coming from the north, I decided to call it a day early. Going any farther would take me going east of the range and I would risk losing what little windbreak it provided.
Another sandy wash presented itself. I staked out my tarp once again; dug out a shallow pit for my hips; rolled out my poncho/groundcloth over it; laid out my foam pad over groundcloth; and then laid down. Once again I felt that sensation of my back and my body relaxing into the earth. The silence of the desert opened itself to me, empty and clean. I felt at home. I felt at peace.
