Black Rock High Rock Emigrant Trails National Conservation Area Artist in Residence - Part 3

Black Rock High Rock Emigrant Trails National Conservation Area Artist in Residence - Part 3

The Playa Near Black Rock Point

After returning from High Rock Canyon, I spent another night on the playa, this time near the top end near the rock formation from which the Black Rock Desert gets its name. Black Rock Point is near Black Rock Hot Spring and Double Hot Spring, two more locations on my list that I wanted to check out.

Ever a rockhound, I found several nice pieces of botryoidal agate among the volcanic rock while wandering in the sand dunes searching for my ever elusive kit fox. After the long drive back from High Rock Canyon, I spent most of the afternoon just hanging out, readying myself for the hike up Black Rock Point the next day. 

The View From Black Rock Point

The hike up Black Rock Point is one of the few marked trails in the NCA. After hiking up to a parking area, the trail up to the top of the volcanic mound is marked by a series of cairns. Although short, most of the walking was over loose stone on a series of switchbacks. The view from the top was spectacular, offering vistas of the playa, and of Black Rock Hot Spring. 

I have always been a hiker who aims for the nearest peak, and this one certainly did not disappoint. With a good chunk of the afternoon left, I decided to head back down to check out the spring before turning in for the day.

Black Rock Hot Spring

Unlike Trego, Black Rock Hot Spring was a clear blue and much larger. Ringed by a series of green, there were several historic markers in the area, my favorite of which was an old sheepherder wagon. There was another register, which I signed before walking around the edge of the water.

Dressed for hiking and with the sun burning down, I didn't feel the need for a swim, but I did dip my fingers in. The spring was indeed hot and I imagine would be spectacular in the cooler months. I was almost completely alone, with only a couple other camper vans parked off in the distance. 

It was wild to go from barren volcanic rock to a lush wetland in such a short period of time. Hiking back to the truck for the evening, I watched the sun set through the sand dunes on the edge of the playa. 

Double Hot Springs Mustangs

My second to last day in the Black Rock, I woke early and again packed up my hiking gear. Making my way to one of the many OHV trails in the area, I turned towards Double Hot Spring, a pair of super heated springs that spread out towards the playa, creating a wide grassy area that looked like a miniature prairie.

It was still cool, and early, the golden morning light dancing off the mountains on both sides of the playa. Off in the distance, I saw several brown shapes. I assumed they were cattle, but once I got closer, I was ecstatic to discover they were a band of dun colored mustangs. 

These horses were beautiful and well fed, their coats shining. I spent a good half hour just standing there watching them, taking photo after photo as they grazed. While the mares and the yearling filly were a little cautious, the stallion was entirely unconcerned. 

Eventually, I headed back the way I'd come. The next day I had a big trip up Old Razorback, so I was heading back towards Gerlach that afternoon. I was already beginning to have the end of trip blues creeping up on me, and I almost felt like the horses had showed up to bid me farewell. 

Old Razorback

My last day in the Black Rock was a wild one. Joining Friends of the Black Rock on a hike up one of the iconic mountains in the area was the perfect capstone to my ten day journey and we made it to the base of the mountain right around eleven. There was a good group of us and looking up at the peak, it became clear that this was going to be one hell of a hike.

There was no trail to speak of and the ascent was almost straight up. It ended up being more of a scramble than a hike as the group of us went back and forth across the face of the mountain. I'm a fairly confident hiker, but I was sweat drenched and sore by the time we made it to the top.

And what a view it was.

Going back down was much quicker, and driving back across the playa, I spent my final night camping off of Three Mile, the first place I had ever visited in the desert. I would have stayed forever if I'd have had the means, but I was already making plans to return.

For the moment, I knew I had to leave. I had a truck full of half finished paintings and a camera full of photos to review. 

So concluded my fourteen days in the desert. An inspirational journey the likes of which I was fortunate to experience. 

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