so we took it. I felt a connection to the black sheep we passed. We started to climb into old mining area, I believe this was the "Gold Dyke" Mine: I was running point for the first part of the short-cut, just to scout it out, but I prefer riding sweep, so I let everyone else pass, Ahhh, the tassels always look so good, don't they?
"The Park", we reached a fork in the road: They both had equal chance of leading to Crescent Valley, or of dead-ending at a mine. My intention was to take the road that looked better traveled. We ended up flipping a coin, and took the road to the left.
and when it seemed like this direction might actually work, I let them take over, We were going north of Bald Mountain, past the ruins, We started heading downhill... that's a good sign if you're trying to get to Crescent Valley, right? <iframe frameborder="0" scrolling="no" width="640" height="360" src="https://api.smugmug.com/services/embed/1876521806_F4rJSbf?width=640&height=360"></iframe> a little ziggity zag, and there it was, spread out before us: We rolled out of the hills on Corral Canyon road and into town like ghosts. Picked up some vittles, topped off fuel, and chatted with the locals. They asked what direction we'd come from on HWY 306, and we said we hadn't, then they asked where we were headed, and when we told them, they weren't aware that the road we'd come in on, or planned on leaving on actually went anywhere. Whenever that happens, you know you're nailing the routing. I loved it.
has quite the motorcycle scene, we wish we could have stayed for the show, but the next range was calling... we're heading towards that darkish notch in the center of the photo below, another of my "gosh-I-hope-this-goes-through" navigational hi-jinx, Cottonwood Canyon.
finding the road that entered the canyon... I could trace it in the valley, and I could trace it in the canyon, but I couldn't see the connection from GoogleEarth. As we got closer, it became apparent why; there was some newly constructed irrigation reservoir being built: We drove around, exploring several options... our persistence paid off, We took a little break to gather our forces before tackling the next challenge.
<iframe frameborder="0" scrolling="no" width="640" height="360" src="https://api.smugmug.com/services/embed/1876521939_hvKzNDN?width=640&height=360"></iframe> it was pretty awesome, the road climbed quickly, had some ups and downs, and then ran along a ridge with kicking views. we passed the pass, and started heading down, <iframe frameborder="0" scrolling="no" width="640" height="360" src="https://api.smugmug.com/services/embed/1876522066_97gxdRQ?width=640&height=360"></iframe> There's a motorcycle in the photo below:
back and forth all day. On the backside of that range, we were in Garden Valley, and I'd spec'ed a nearly invisible trail to get to Quartz-Buckhorn road. Instead we took what we'll call the Ranson cutoff. Wider, but longer. and probably faster, truth be told. Here we cut back in our intended direction: The sand and silt and ruts get pretty thick in these valleys. The trail would fade at times, and then reconstitute. The weather started to look threatening. It was really, really windy.
at Blackburn. We were starting to get tired. Who am I kidding... we were spent. We climbed into the next range: Union Summit road. We all agreed that we'd camp at the next good spot. We crested the summit, which was beautiful, great views, but the wind was extreme. We scouted around for a more sheltered site, we really didn't want to go down into the next valley. after some back and forth, we settled on an old mining camp we'd passed, the Bell Mine. We turned around, found a good spot, and threw down stakes. PS: it's for sale, if anyone is interested.
Attempted "private reply" for first time in many moons. Hope it went through. Here to confirm invitation to store bikes in Denver come September's end of next leg. Please call or email PRN.
i have NEVER thought about using storage spaces as a way to "take breaks" in a tour before. Wow! where's the book you wrote of your adventures???
This ride report IS the book! Both of our GPS's are set up to archive and store daily tracks (Montana 600, and 76cSx). These can be retrieved as .GPX files from the SD cards. Spot also logs tracks, though not nearly as detailed. Both technologies (GPS and Spot) work in canada.
We were on BLM land. I know the rules for dispersed primitive camping. Proper distance from road and water, etc. We built a fire ring, collected wood, built a nice campfire, cooked some canned chili on the stove, sat back in our chairs with some hot cocoa and bourbon and enjoyed the evening. At a certain point, a pickup truck came flying over the rise, and careened up a side-road that we'd checked out earlier for a potential camping spot -- topo said there was a spring there, but when Dave checked it out it was just a field. We shrugged, and though nothing of it -- rancher, or ranger, who knows. We went on cooking and eating and enjoying the campfire. BTW, since we didn't have a water source to clean up the dirty dishes, we cooked the chili in the cans using a double-broiler technique, that way we wouldn't have burnt chili on the bottom of the pan. It actually worked really well. About 30-40 minutes later, the pickup comes back out the side road, and stops on the road in front of us. Now, we're a good 40 yards off the road. Passenger window rolls down and we see a middle aged guy in the driver's seat. Doesn't get out. I yell a "hello", smile, and wave. From the interior of the cab he starts spewing a rant about our campfire and how it's windy and it's been a really dry spring and streams that should be running are already dry and we should put the campfire out. We acknowledge that it's dry, and thanks for your concern and we'll put it out. He challenges, where are you gonna get the water? I reply simply that we have water. Period. I try to give him an opportunity to finish venting, and to demonstrate some social skills. He perseverates on in the same tone, and and now I'm starting to get a little pissed. Dude is really being an asshole. Not wanting to escalate, I just keep agreeing with him. OK, we'll put it out. Anything else? There's people who live and work out here he says. And I smile and say OK... thanks again. And think to myself, if we cause a massive brush fire tonight, who stands more to lose, dude in the pickup, or us in these tents? Dude drives off in a huff, and we're left to speculate whether there'll be consequences. It's been a while since someone's gotten in my face like that, unprovoked. For a brief second, I missed the city, where maybe 1% of people will give you the time of day if you ask, and the other 99% will completely ignore you.
the wind blows one of the chairs over, and/or dave's tent fly comes down... he gets up and starts dealing with all that. We're in our tent, and see light flashing, hear the wind howling, and think.. oh shit, did the fire spark up??? did the rancher come back???
Dr Rock. As one who spent many summers working for the Forest Service near Jackson Hole, those who work around travelers can get really cynical and put out quickly. I'll not describe the situations I dealt with in the campgrounds, but the net was that we concluded tourists left their manners, common sense and any other social skill on the door step when they left home. Your case is very different in details, however those who work and know the country tend to treat outsiders like most of them they see, as dumb idiots who cause endless problems for them. That does not excuse a rant, profanity, or stupid driving. I found that the vast majority of people were wonderful some exceptionally so. A few rotten apples ruined things however fairly often.