October 10-12
I left Snow Canyon for Nevada. It was October 10, and it was also Day Fifty on the road this trip. I took I-15 to Cedar City. From there it was all “back roads” to Great Basin National Park. These were good roads, one lane each direction, with occasional passing lanes up some of the climbs. First it was Route 130 to Minersville, UT. Then Route 21 with a thirteen-mile segment to Milford, UT, followed by seventy-three miles to all the way to Garrison, UT, then another ten miles across the border to the park. There were plenty of climbs along the route.
Great Basin is a geological wonder in that, unlike most areas, water that falls into it does not reach an ocean. That is, the rivers and streams in the Great Basin do not eventually flow into an ocean. Mountains seal the area off on all sides. It is also huge, covering much of Utah, most of Nevada, as well as parts of Wyoming, Idaho, Oregon, and California. Death Valley is in the Great Basin. I did not know that. Great Basin National Park is a tiny, tiny part of the picture.
The Great Basin has numerous mountain ranges running across it. I crossed three ranges running north-south across the Route 21 between Milford and Garrison. Each time, the road led up the mountains, climbing for 7-10 miles to a pass in the neighborhood of 6,500’ elevation, then wandered another 7-10 miles down the other side onto a broad flat plain of desert scrub brush and, on one occasion, grazing land.
It is isolated, desolate country. I saw one farm along that seventy-three-mile stretch. There was also a large windmill farm with five rows of giant white windmills, fifteen windmills in each row. Other than that, I did not see one building, not a house, not a store, not a gas station.
As I descended the second mountain pass, I was surprised to come upon two bicyclists.
They had full touring gear, panniers and racks. I pulled over at a convenient location, a few miles ahead in the valley, and waited for them. I wanted to see if they needed any water or food, as it must have been about fifty miles since they passed though Milford. They were riding from Montreal to San Francisco. They had been on the road for about two months. They said thanks for stopping, and they were fine with supplies. They had huge water bottles on the down-tubes. They had some kind of mount that could hold a bottle that looked like it could have been a gallon of water, plus a smaller bottle (quart-size) on each side of the front fork. Nico had his phone and a bike computer mounted on his handlebars. He said his Dynamo front hub supplied all the power to keep them running 24/7.
They seemed to be very comfortable riding in this terrain, being out in the middle of nowhere. They were heading to Route 50 to cross Nevada, and they spoke of it with enthusiasm. Route 50 is known as The Loneliest Road in America. Similar to Route 21, but much longer, it has a series mountain range crossings. My Rand McNally shows six mountain passes over the 306 miles from Baker to Fallon. There are few towns along the route, so logistics securing water and food are critical. Although I feel somewhat apprehensive about doing such a ride, I also felt a little envious.
Despite what Google had told me, I arrived at Great Basin NP at the main visitor center after it had closed. Google said it closed at 5PM. The sign on the door said it closed at 4PM. I called a second visitor center, one at Lehman Caves, and asked if they were open. They told me no, they had just closed at 4:30. The next day when I went there, their sign said they closed at 5PM. I learned there were many inconsistencies about time and campgrounds here at Great Basin. I won’t go into all of them. One just has to go with the flow.
The main campground that was open was Upper Lehman Creek. It was full, so I stayed at Grey Cliffs Campground the first night. One reason I wanted to stay at Upper Lehman was it was the only campground open that was on a paved road. Grey Cliffs was nearly two miles down a washboard dusty dirt road littered with washboard bumps. But it was a nice campground. It had really spacious campsites. It was situated at the base of these one hundred foot plus cliffs, hence the name, quite dramatic visually.
One of the inconsistencies of the park is their signage and information about campsites. There was a sign at the payment kiosk said Loop A had some individual campsites, but when one turns into Loop A itself, there is a large sign saying GROUP CAMPGROUND BY RESERVATION ONLY. Apparently, this sign is wrong, and I ignored it. A little later, while going to the kiosk to pay my fee, I noticed a van pull in, read the sign, and turn around. For some reason I knew that the sign was the reason. So, I walked to catch up with the van. I told them, “In case you turned around because of the sign, there are individual sites available.” They told me thanks for letting them know, and that when they saw the “groups by reservation only” sign they had turned around. They were Noah and Carrie, driving a borrowed Mercedes van.
Later, I stopped by their site to say hi, and three kids popped out from behind the van! It must have been crowded. In the small world department, the next day I saw them again at the Lehman Caves Visitor Center, and the third day, I saw them at the end of my bike climb up Wheeler Peak Road. In another small world instance, there was a couple, at the site next to me, with a van from Idaho. The guy was from Redding. He grew up there, went to Redding schools all his life.
Upper Lehman Creek Campground had a good infrastructure, but there was one problem with it. it is built on a hill with a 10-12% slope. There were about 25 campsites, and the parking areas for all 25 were on some sort of slope, some quite steep. This might have been okay for tents, as the tent pads in these places were level, but for vans, cartop tents, or trailers it was not good. Fortunately, I have a set of “levelers” that I can put under my tires, and they were just enough to offset the slope of the driveway just enough to make it halfway decent. You could still roll a marble on the van’s floor, but lifting the front wheels 3” made a big difference.
On my third day there I rode up Wheeler Peak Road. From the main road intersection, it is about twelve miles to the top while gaining 3,400 feet elevation, going from 6,700 to 11,100. It has fantastic views for inspiration and several steep pitches for deep inhalation-exhalation cycles! Noah and Carrie passed me as I was about halfway to the top, the kids waving and yelling out the open window, “Hi Tom!”
At the top is the trailhead for Wheeler Peak. I considered staying another couple days to do it, but decided no. Another time. It is an 8.4 mile round-trip to an altitude of 13,063 feet. I read that the trail is well marked, but the last mile is a rock scramble, as compared to an actual trail. Rock scramble did not appeal to me. There are some things, such as this, I would do without pause in my 20s, 30s, 40s, and even 50s. Now almost 70, I think twice about some things, especially when out in wilderness alone. No problem …
From Great Basin I drove south on Highway 93, another long barren road through desert scrub brush and sage. I stayed one night at Echo Canyon State Park, twelve miles east outside of Pioche, Nevada. It was a nice campground, newly renovated. The road into it might have been good for bicycling, or maybe it wasn’t. There were some homes along a two mile stretch that had loose dogs. I did not want to deal with that. There was one hiking trail in the park. I am not sure, but I did not notice any canyon from my vantage point in the campground. There was a dam and a small reservoir. According to the map, the trail went around the reservoir, then up behind the campground, which was maybe a trail up a canyon I could not see. But the trail also left the state park and ventured out onto some other property. Whether this other property was government owned or private, I could not tell from the map. But, based on the loose dogs, several No Trespassing signs, and a handful of Trump MAGA signs, I decided not to do the hike. So, I stayed there one night and moved on about twenty-five miles south to Kershaw-Ryan State Park.
Kershaw-Ryan State Park is a small park, about two miles south of Caliente, Nevada, (population about 700) built into a canyon whose walls were originally constructed of volcanic materials that have been eroded away. Some of the walls are in the range of 700’ high. A small but scenic park. There are several hiking and mountain biking trails. The park ranger told me it become very busy in the spring and fall, with about 40,000 visitors annually, though for my two days there I did not see much activity.
I did two bike rides while there. One day I did an out and back on RT 93 totaling 34 miles, including a few miles up Oak Springs Pass. The next day I did a fifteen-mile warmup on a flat section of RT 93, then climbed Oak Springs all the way to the top. The park ranger had told me it was about six miles, but it turned out to be ten miles, going from about 4,400’ to 6,200’. It was not too steep, a fun climb. There is something about riding a bike up a hill that is so invigorating, so energizing, makes me feel so good (or running in previous years.) Great scenery again, riding through a canyon for the first five miles then five miles of a winding road along the side of the mountain, often looking like this could be the last turn, and then you make the turn, and there’s more hill … 😊
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