Bones Hiking in the Calico Mountains
My second trip to the Black Rock Desert was the big one. I loaded up my truck with ten days of supplies, loaded up my dog and headed out. It had rained recently, and I didn’t arrive until after dark, unsure of conditions and unwilling to chance traversing the playa. I spent that night on a turn off, unwilling to tempt fate. The next morning was clear and blue with not a cloud in the sky.
Wild Burros
The first few days were spent in and around the Playa. I revisited the Calicos, the mountains becoming one of my favorite subjects to paint. The bright rocks never failed to inspire and I knocked out a couple more paintings. Eager to try something new, I headed back into Gerlach and set my sights on Trego, a fairly well known hot spring along the edge of the Playa. The road to get there was good and I had the place to myself, spotting a few wary burros along the way. My dog was not fond of these four legged intruders, and they were no fan of him.
Trego Hot Spring
The time was already flying, and before I knew it, I’d already been in the desert for three days. The temperatures were hotter than expected, unfortunately, too hot for my giant fluffy dog. A friend was kind enough to baby sit him for me, and just like that, I was truly flying solo. I’d read about High Rock Canyon in several articles and knew I wanted to make the trek out to see it. I’ll admit to some nerves venturing to such a remote location alone, but I wasn’t about to pass on by.
My Truck, "The Unicorn" Parked at Little High Rock Canyon
The journey went fairly smooth other than a few wrong turns and some muddy sections of road. The truck held up good, and before I knew it, I was looking down the tall stone walls of High Rock Canyon. Now, my truck is a bigger girl, a long bed, crew cab F250 to be precise. After a good hour of back road driving, I figured I could make it further down the canyon, at least to the first campsite.
My Mustang Friend Amigo at High Rock Canyon
It soon became apparent that the road was meant for smaller 4x4 vehicles than my white whale. I ended up backing up a good half mile before I could flip around and head back to the gate. My intention had always been to backpack through the canyon and I admitted defeat, camping overnight near the gate as a solitary mustang wandered back and forth through camp.
Backpacking through High Rock Canyon
I was up with the sun the next day, backpacking gear ready to go. The early morning light cast dark shadows on the canyon rocks and I hiked at a good pace, the temperature steadily rising with the sun. I kept an eye out for bighorn sheep but never saw any. I did however, spot several flocks of chukar.
The Afternoon View from Camp
I came to several flooded spots on the road, some so large I ended up splashing through two feet of water. Mentally thanking the universe that I hadn’t tried to drive my truck any further than I had, I admired the ever changing rock formations, hiking all the way to Yellow Rock Canyon before turning back. The afternoon was getting old, and I staked out camp for the evening in one of the campsites along the canyon’s main road.
Up the Hill
I spent the evening in silence, watching birds as they drifted from rock to rock. There were pieces of agate, obsidian and jasper where I camped, and I hiked up the cliff behind me to get a couple shots down the canyon at sunset. The next day I was heading back to a different part of the Playa, but that night, I might as well have been the only person on the planet.
Painting of High Rock Canyon
"Serenity"