Saturday, March 8th, 2025, 0540-1740
Mm 13.5 to South Sheep Hole mountains mm42, Section 8, elevation 1440′.
26 miles.
After being so adamant about trusting in the Routemasters the previous day, I still deviated from their plans for the first half of this day. The route led away from the highway, going free form through the sand and then following a sandy poweline road for miles. This was all for the sake of getting away from the highway while crossing the large valley as I headed south. I reasoned that it was fine to swap a sandy road for the straight swath cut by the highway. The view would be the same, the going much easier, and there wasn’t much traffic early in the morning.
Actually, there was a good dirt road under the adjacent power line, parallel to the highway, that I walked instead. So I didn’t even have to risk my life. I’d also cached a gallon of water at the furthest point along the highway, where I needed to cut back to the route towards the Sheep Hole mountains (about mm28). I barely needed this water, since I still had about half a gallon from the night before, but I figured it couldn’t hurt to carry some extra. The most recent water reports were now from over 2 weeks beforehand and I expected there to be only one good source before my next cache at HWY 62.
I reached todays cache at only 9 am, so I took a really early lunch break. Then I set off across the creosote barrens to reconnect to the route. I made the mistake of veering too far north, thinking it would be ok to connect to the route farther up. But my trajectory led me too close to the base of the mountains and as a result, I ended up needing to cross some big arroyos that had steep sides. On the other hand, my path led me past the most beautiful horned lizard I’ve ever seen! I just barely recognized its fuzzy outline before putting my foot down on top it. It blended in so well, plus had also flattened its body to hug the sand so tightly. Not even the strongest wind could pry it away. It looked very cold and didn’t flinch even once while I took pictures. I didn’t dare disturb its perfect pose, as much as I wanted to coddle it.
Finally back on the route, there were yet more big arroyos to navigate. I did a lot of short scrambles in and out of these, so the going was pretty slow. My pack was also heavy with all my water. All afternoon, I traveled in a southeasterly direction, skirting along the base of the Sheep Holes. The route dove across a few low passes, cutting off fingers of the range. The whole day was pretty much all wash and cross country walking.
As usual, this range felt extremely remote. There were a few ancient road traces, but almost no signs of humans otherwise. I inspected one guzzler, which was basically dry. But later on, there was a large bighorn sheep tank that was half full, possessing thousands of gallons. I unscrewed the lid and easily collected a few liters. I didn’t need much more, but figured why not? I guess the tank is filled by a helicopter? There was no cement or metal apron by which to collect rainfall. These mountains didn’t look they saw much rain anyway.
It was a good day for wildlife. I came across another desert tortoise shell, a bighorn sheep skull and my first snake of the whole journey! It was harmless and very beautiful. Then just as I crossed the range’s divide and started down a steep gully, a fuzzy, medium-sized animal leapt from under a rock I was about to step on. I didn’t even startle, but watched in quiet admiration as a bobcat ran up the side of the canyon. My only thought was how graceful and fast it could run over such rugged terrain. I didn’t fear any of the desert animals, not even the mountain lions. They were just a rare and fascinating part of the landscape. Experiencing all this in solitude and silence, I felt a part of things too. I’d found a way to blend in, such that I crept to within feet of the bobcat.
As I dropped out of the canyon, I was surprised to find quite a variety of lush plants growing in the wash. The area must have just gotten rain from the storm a few nights before. The creosote was flowering, showcasing it’s lovely delicate yellow flowers. There was also a vine-like plant, which reminded me of honeysuckle. It was as fragrant as honeysuckle, too. I pitched my tent right in the middle of this loveliness and watched the sun set over Joshua Tree National Park as a hummingbird buzzed by to visit the creosote flowers. There was no wind and the evening was warm, for a change. It felt like springtime in the desert. I was in the Homestretch.
