Desert Gazette

Trona & the Ruth Mine

Me and the little woman initially set off to Ballarat. I don’t know why, maybe just to stop off in Randsburg for a late lunch on our way home. So, we stopped by the Trona Museum on our way. I’ve been in the museum twice before. It has been awhile and was shocked when I had to walk in a whole different door this time. Apparently the little museum has expanded. It is quite the deal. Some things you just have to go see for yourself. So anyhow, the docent was a very nice lady named Ruth. I’m terrible at names but I could remember that name because a teacher at a class I had the name Ruth also. Amoung about 3-4-5 dozen subjects we touched on during our chat was that we were heading off for Ballarat. I rambled on — I like to ramble, and somewhere, somehow, I mentioned Homestead Canyon. Ruth said since I had been to Ballarat before I may find the canyon interesting. Of course I find interesting things interesting and asked, “What’s up there?” and she replied, “The Ruth Mine.” The day seemed to be taking on a theme, we were on our way.What a cool place! The ‘adopt-a-cabin’ folks have done remarkable taking care of the grounds. There’s even an old schoolhouse complete with an apple on the teacher’s desk. I did my usual thing and took gobs of pictures. My wife, after some exploration returned to the jeep for some reading. A couple hours later I returned to the vehicle, my wife asked if I had seen any children? “No, why do you ask?” She said it was so quiet, but from the direction of the school yard she could hear children laughing. There was no children, let alone anyone else anywhere in sight. We had the whole place entirely to ourselves. Place must be haunted. I immediately drove the 60 or so miles to Randsburg for an emergency prime rib sandwich. She still thinks she heard something, so the sandwich idea wasn’t the remedy, but it sure was good!

The Ruth Mine

School’s Out

I took a poetry class out at Zzyzx. Nice, but I didn’t anticipate working so hard. It all came out okay though. Not only did I live through it, but I also enjoyed it. After class I drove up to the freeway, and now that, was just like I thought it was going to be on a Sunday afternoon, backed up for miles. Quickly, I shifted into plan “B”. I drove to Baker and then turned north and cruised up to Shoshone. After a reasonably comfortable night in Shoshone I took off for Ibex Spring and the Moorehouse mine. The road to Ibex Spring would ALMOST be doable in a high clearance vehicle without 4wd, however, there is a narrow, deep, wash that cuts through the road about a mile in. I can just envision myself having to spending several nights in, if I were to still be beating around the desert in my little Datsun pickup. Funny thing about 4wd, it may only be a few feet that you need it, but it only takes a few feet to get you stuck if you don’t have it. Maybe that isn’t funny. Anyway, after Ibex I returned to the main road and followed through past Ibex sand dunes. There was a good mile or so of soft and deep sand. Definately worthy of 4wd. A little disappointing that the road doesn’t go any closer to the dunes than a mile or so at the closest point. Will have to hike out to them maybe this fall or early next spring — Or maybe grow wings and fly out there, or pop a prop like a helicopter out of the top of my head. Hmmm, hiking seems to be the most feasible solution. Note that this point can be reached without 4wd if the road is taken from the Saratoga Springs end.

I Just Called to Say…

Yes, I’ve finally started to carry a cell phone. I suppose it may come in handy someday. It only took two trips and two long phone calls to find out that if I use it out in the desert, I have absolutely nothing to talk about when I get home. Now it goes in the emergency box with the emergency cans of beef and emergency Ritz crackers and emergency canned peaches I keep in case of… an emergency.
 

Fossils
Ok, so yet again I’m embarrased. I recently spent a few days out in the desert searching for fossil tracks. The folks I was with knew where the tracks were, but I hadn’t a clue. All this looks like little holes in the rock to me. I got to see the only dinosaur tracks in California. Trouble was that they didn’t look any different from any of the other tracks I seen — But I seen ‘em anyhow. So of course I recorded every little indentation and divot I could. It got pretty easy to identify them after awhile. This was because of a little trick I picked up. I just started watching when somebody would lay a scale down and start taking pictures. I’d just tip-toe up behind them and take some shots of their scales over their shoulders. Needless to say, I have some very nice photos of some scales on different rocks in various places in the east Mojave. I got pretty good at going, “Uh-huh, cool! Wow, that’s neat. Would ya look at that?”

When the trip was over I decided to go back to one location we had visited the day before. The sun was behind a bluff and cast a shadow over the tracks. “Come back some morning at six. The light will make these babies jump right out at you.” someone said. So I did. The next day right at sunrise the tracks certainly were clear enough and I got plenty of pretty good photos. Now I was sure in my near-heat-stroke-semi-dehydrated delirium that someone said these were elephant tracks. “Too small to be an elephant”, I thought. They weren’t. They were camel tracks. How embarrassing. Why? I had called my wife the night before on my stupid little cell phone and blabbered on and on about how I needed to take pictures of the elephant tracks, and how cool these elephant tracks looked and how the elephant tracks were so important that I had to spend another day out in the desert. How embarrassing — Heheh.

Salty Water & Animals that don’t Drink it

I’ve heard that the water in Salt Creek is so salty that cows drop dead after drinking it. So being that I’m not a cow I figured I’d take a sip. OH-YUK! I ain’t gonna do that no more. The area is growing back pretty nice after a fire a few years ago. The fire burned off some of that nasty Tamarisk and it looks like the native vegetation is growing up over the charred stumps. There wasn’t a whole lot for wildlife around though. Of course mid-day isn’t always the best time to be finding it.I thought I caught a glimpse of some movement in some rocks on the trail down to the creek. Certainly worth checking out on the way back up. And it was. There, sitting all proud on top of a rock with his chin in the wind was a good-sized chuckwalla. I seen him, he seen me, I seen him seeing me and him seeing me seeing him seeing me. Very friendly little creature. He even waited while I walked up to the truck to change lenses on my camera and posed in different positions on the rock over the next 20 minutes. I heard these animals never drink water. They get all their moisture from the blossoms they eat. They don’t pee either. Waste moisture comes out their nose in little chunks of salt crystals. OH-YUK! Is that why the water tastes so awful? I ain’t drinking that any more.
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“Forgive, O Lord, my little jokes on Thee � and I’ll forgive Thy great big one on me.”
Robert Frost

One Last Item
From Harry Oliver’s Desert Rat Scrapbook:

PAY DIRT
A night watchman heard noises in the dark mine. Drawing his revolver, he went into the shaft and called:Come out with your hands up, so I can see who you are. If you don’t, I’ll come in and see who you were.

-Bye.