Trip Date: July 20, 2018
This is another trip I am writing up after 4 years, so my memories are few and far between and I am mostly reliant on the photos or the recollections of others. I do recall this trip was born form a prior trip to the Table Mountains or perhaps Arc Dome, 2 of our larger and deeper pushes into Central Nevada. On one of those trips, we stopped at Fish Lake hot springs and while we were there, Kenny struck up a conversation (shocking) with another guy taking a soak. He turned out to be a wildlife biologist for the forest service of BLM and he highly recommended we come back to camp on the East side of Mt. Jefferson. I-He said the area around Pine Creek was very remote and full of wildlife, so that stuck in our brains.
I don’t know how many years in between trips that may have been, but this was that trip. Bob, Mike, Steve, Bill, and I headed out Highway 50 through some familiar territory to Austin where Steve reminded me we stopped for lunch at the International Café and Bar. I recall all 5 of us sitting at a huge round oak table in this classic right out of the old West. A Glenn Ford movie could have broken out at any time, although the rough looking characters were all women in this version. After an interesting lunch, we headed to Spencer Hot Springs, perhaps hoping for a medicinal treatment to lunch, before continuing up and over the pass past Toquima Caves, and on over to highway 82 to head South down Highway 82. I don’t recall if we stopped to check out Diana’s Punch Bowl as we did when we headed up into Table, but it is probable we didn’t as we still had a ways to travel on our first day. Eventually we pulled into Pine Creek Campground to check it out.
There could have been any number of reasons this place was not suitable; there could have been people there, it could have been too overgrown with creek vegetation, or it just might not have felt right, but it did not take long to have a unanimous consensus that this was not the place. We poked around here and there on a few roads, until we found a nice spot with enough Juniper cover, enough open space for rigs and tents, enough flat ground for tables and chairs, and enough vista to keep our weak minds occupied. Home sweet home.
I can only imagine we took it easy the next day as we usually do after a huge day of driving, finding a spot, and setting up. From the pictures, it appears we hiked into the Wilderness the next day. Bob and Steve are in great shape and are big hikers. They wanted to summit the Pass which was over 10,000’, so they packed up and headed out early. The 3 of us were content to bumble around the creek and lowlands. I remembered from pre-trip scouting that the creek forked not very far up the trail. I was curious to see if I could find a trail/path less traveled and probably did not communicate as well as I should have with Mike and Bill.
I soon found myself thrashing through thick brush on the other side of Pine Creek, trying to found a more secluded route. Having thrashed about as much as I cared to, I called out to Bill and Mike several times, but no answer. I returned all the way back to the main trail and started to scoot to catch up, calling out from time to time. It was drizzling on and off and raining for short bursts, so I could not imagine they would continue on and up the trail for as long as I went, but still no sign or sounds of them. I stopped for a break, and holed up in a shallow cave for a bit, well protected from the weather. I was still convinced they must be near, and continued up the trail for a ways, and then reluctantly, headed on back down the trail to the rigs. I left a message on the windshield and returned to camp frustrated at the day’s events.
Before long, Mike and Bill and then Bob and Steve returned with many a tale. I felt bad we had gotten separated and knew better than to head out on my own alone, but it was great to be back together and sharing our glorious adventures by the fire. Sleep was divine. The next day we headed to the ghost town of Belmont. Along the way, we stopped in some trippy rock formations to bumble around and see the sights.
Belmont was a trip. There was much more left than I had expected. It must have been quite a place in its heyday. We spent quite a bit of time poking around, enjoying the solitude and stone cold silence, and recreating history in our minds. Eventually, we arrived in East Belmont which was little more than the massive brick chimney, I’m assuming from a massive mill for smelting the silver, copper, lead, antimony, etc. they were pulling out of here. There were massive rock foundations and walls from what must have been a multi-story mill at the time. It is incredible how men can hand build these massive natural material structures that hold so much weight and do such hard work and perform these incredibly demanding tasks, like crushing rock or melting ore.
After all kinds of fun, we headed down the road a stones throw to the modern version of Belmont, where people apparently still live and some of them are trying to restore or at least preserve the incredible history still remaining. Unfortunately, the bar and store were closed and we didn’t see another living soul. It would have been fun to talk to some of the locals and see what was happening or what they wanted to happen. I have to believe they are a hoot.
We spent a fair amount of time just walking all the streets in town and seeing what we could see. On our way home, we passed a very cool, handmade rock cabin, or what was left of it. The brick fireplace and the wood beams really gave us a sense of the knowledge and skill of these guys to be able to build their own cabin from natural materials and the skills they possessed. It was very impressive.
On the way home, the clouds were gathering and darkening the sky. We had a spectacular sunset and then an incredible lightning show. I was too drunk to realize I should try to shoot video to catch the lighting strikes, so I was just trying to predict and react to the strikes. Needless to say, I had little luck, while Mike was shooting video and of course capturing many strikes on his camera.
The next day Bob was leaving so he packed up and headed out, another brilliant and lucky move by the Irishman. We were treated to rain off and on all day long. In between showers, we eventually dug trenches around the table and the shade tent we were using for cover. Eventually the rain became so heavy, it overflowed our trenches and filled the depression made by Bob’s tent to create a pond, which in turn overflowed its banks and flooded our trenches.
With the next break, we reinforced our trench works and deepened and widened the earthen dams to no avail. The clouds burst open with torrents of rain which did their best to soak through the many layers of clothes and jackets we were now covered in. At one point, the wind was so fierce, each of the 4 of us had to grab and hold on to a post of the shade structure to keep it from blowing away. With each flash of lightning, we were hysterical with the stories that would be told about the 4 guys that were all electrocuted simultaneously when a bolt of lightning hit their metal shade structure cooking them all too well done in an instant.
Or perhaps we would all be one handed or one-armed bandits and would get free beers at all the bars for the rest of our lives. Or maybe the lightning would go through us and burn of shoes off our feet, or instantly boil all the water we were standing in. It was a wild day or try to influence the water flowing through our site, while making an effort to minimize the rain falling on our heads, while being endlessly entertained by the thought of being hit by lightning as we fiercely gripped the metal legs of the shade structure. Thank god was we plenty of whiskey.
That night, with all the rain we had and all the whiskey I had, I decided I needed to move my truck. Not unimaginably, caution and care were not on the menu and I rammed my truck up into the brush. I am not sure how and where or why I moved the truck where it ended up, but I did succeed in flattening a tire, which fortunately we had the tools and ability to change in camp.
On the way home, we took Highway 377 up and over the shoulder of Salisbury Peak to Manhattan which didn’t appear to have much more going on than Belmont. Some interesting buildings and vehicles for sure. 377 was an East-West shortcut to get over to Highway 376, the main North-South route running between Arc Dome on the West and Mt. Jefferson on the East. The community of Carvers had a few open businesses and we stopped for a great sandwich and youthful banter at the Shoshone Market, having our sandwiches outside at a picnic table under a huge Poplar tree.
Fortunately the rest of the trip was not noteworthy, except for some very cool formations of white jagged peaks on the West side of the road, as if leading up into Arc Dome. It definitely looked like country worth checking out some day. I do not recall any malfunctions on this trip. I suppose the spare tire held up for the 400 or so mile drive home. These big trips are getting more and more rare, but I hope we have a few more left in us. Mike just bought a trailer so we may not be roughen it like in the old days, but hopefully we will still be getting out one way or the other in years to come. Thanks for a great trip boys.
Alta Toquima Wilderness Photo Gallery
