Random Times in the Mojave : Volunteer Work for History and For Wildlife

Random Times In The Mojave:  Volunteer Work for History and For Wildlife

By David M’Greene

"If it is going to happen, it's going to happen out there....."  -Captain Ron Rico, circa 1992

It is well over 100 degrees and Arioch has his Cherokee climbing the rapidly degenerating trail to Kidney Spring.  In a Guzzler Report conversation with the SCBS Area Captain Coordinator Scott Gibson, I mentioned how this is one of Arioch's favorite places and that he loves going to this Spring.  I hate it.  I hate the place.  I hate the road.  I hate what we found there.  I mostly hate the petroglyphs that I am convinced are a curse to any that intrude.   But don't let me get ahead of myself.  In hindsight, it is possible to try and do too much.  Combining Sheep Society projects with MDHCA repairs seemed like a good idea on paper.  And we did get a tremendous amount of stuff done.  But....  I hate when I go back to work and people ask "how was your vacation?"  Vacation?  What are they talking about?

Out of the blue, Arioch tells me to hurry up and get my stuff together.  He is coming down and we have to go fix things in Goffs, deliver the MDHCA John Deere UTV that I brought back to life, and perform Spring and Guzzler Inspections.  It is going to be a busy five days.  He is talking about over a thousand miles of driving with the itenary that he sent.  I mentioned the forecast for heat, the projected traffic for the Labor Day weekend, and of course my need to prepare things for my Chickens that I will be leaving home alone with my poor wife.  Arioch asks, "Are you thirsty?"  He does not wait for my answer before informing me "So are the Sheep!"  What else could I do but scramble to get packed? 

We opted to take his big F350 truck loaded with the John Deere in the back, and towing his Jeep Cherokee.  I was super eager to get the MDHCA John Deere out of my life.  It had spent about a dozen years baking in the desert sun and it had taken quite a bit of work and parts to get it running.  As fun as it was to test drive it around my neighborhood, I really wanted to stop having to worry about where I was parking it.  We towed Arioch's Cherokee so that we could use it over the very aggressive terrain that leads to certain Spring and Drinker locations.  As we crested the Cajon Pass, smoke started to fill the truck's cab.  Arioch pulled us off the 15 and we discovered that his transfer case shifter boot was melting and about to go up in flames!  It became obvious upon inspection that there was an exhaust leak on the diesel turbo's up pipe and the leak was pointed right at the transmission where the shifter was.  Arioch removed the melting part and mumbled something about "that" explaining why his on board computer was showing a huge temperature difference between the cooler and the transmission.  In short order, we were back on our way to Goffs, but now with a gaping hole in the trans tunnel where the transfer case shifter goes through.  Well, at least we got that Gremlin out of the way.

Arriving at MDHCA we drove straight to Arioch's trailer to unload and get the Jeep out of the way so that we could remove the John Deere.  It was quite a production, but it was easier than I would have guessed.  A quick couple of laps around the property to make sure everything is good after transport and I am being told to stop fooling around and go park that thing, we have to get going to hang no trespassing signs and fix gates at Nance Fite's property that were destroyed after the York Fire. Apparently, hunters were using the property without authorization and some of them had built a giant fire ring that needed to be removed.  At the property, the remains of a former CA Fish and Wildlife camp were a sobering sight.  The trailers that Wardens had once occupied during hunting season were now completely burnt away with only the heat bowed frames and brake drums remaining.  They have a huge clean up ahead of them.  But then, so did we.  Nance showed us around the gorgeous property and pointed out many historical remains.  We concluded our tour by examining a tenaja that Nance thought might be the largest in the preserve.  It is not.  Photos were taken so that a Spring report could be filed later.  We were startled by a large doe, and then we set to repairs of the fence.  The drive back had us stopping to watch more deer, coyotes, and a roadrunner.  When we got back to Goffs, we spent a little time moving stuff around, cleaning up left behind trash, and getting a to do list going.  I got to greet a family in a Tesla that would be spending a few hours in the dark at Goffs because their battery was at 1%.  We had dinner with some visiting members who shared tales of the Mojave until after midnight.  Thanks Dave Taylor, we were supposed to be asleep at sundown to start the next day at sunup.  Well, it was worth it.  The stories and opinions and history were that good!

The next morning we did not exactly jump up and at 'em.  Arioch had to go collect water samples for the monthly drop off in Hesperia.  Laura was thrilled to have some help.  A quick glance at the piles of mail and MDHCA Rendezvous correspondence, planning sheets, and printer mock ups was all it took for me to recognize how overwhelming everything had become at Goffs while they were between Site Managers.  I was impressed with Laura's effort and also worried for her.  I know I would not want my wife to be sometimes trapped at Goffs utterly alone and unable to leave because there is simply no coverage.  There were other delays in our sitting around drinking coffee, but we did finally hit the road to our first stop, the aforementioned Kidney Spring.  It was a pleasant drive with Arioch going too fast and me just smiling.  He did make a remarkable recovery from a slide in a turn that had been groomed since he last visited.  I was very impressed with his lack of panic and his ability to maintain calm as he corrected without letting off the gas.  He made me proud when he slowed down after that.  See?  He does have an ounce of self preservation.  Getting to the rough stuff, he barely stopped to throw the transfer case into 4 low and up we went.  As a passenger, I can vouch for what my wife says about some of these roads.  It is remarkable to me how different the perspective is from when I am holding the steering wheel.  My palms were sweating as I reflected on how much I hate driving the van on this road.  Arioch was giddy.  Telling me how this is his favorite place.  Asking me if I remember when off camber roads with sharp turns used to make him uncomfortable and afraid.  Sure, he has come a long way.  Does this have a happy ending?  We crested the last peak before the long drop off and final climb to the rain mat.  "There are Sheep!" exclaims Arioch with excitement.  He parks and starts digging for the good camera with the long lens.   He is taking photos and I am still squinting trying to figure out what the hell he sees.  We spent a half hour with him documenting, photographing, and telling me to be quiet!  Sometimes fatherhood is a hard thing.  When I was his age, I lacked patience.  Sister Barbara would be very proud if she saw my tolerance for this snot nose little punk telling me to be quiet.  He shared with me photographs of Rams, Ewes, and even a lamb.  I'll be damned!

We finally moved to the rainmat to begin the Guzzer's inspection.  One Ram was sitting on the outcrop of rocks directly opposite us.  He settled in to just watch us.  Stubborn.  Where he sat was surrounded by historic petroglyphs that I have long been adverse to looking at.  As I have written in past reports, they are cursed and ill will come to those that do look upon them without dread.  This system which Arioch led a team of myself and three others to restore, had been dry and unused for years.  Now it was supporting a small herd.  The herd here has a unique feature in that their Ram horns seem to spiral wider than what we see at other locations.  Very interesting stuff.  We discovered over a dozen, unmarked, unpermitted trail/hunting cameras looking at the drinker box.  This was a surprise and a disappointment.  I know how many people don't support hunting and are looking for any infraction, so it amazes me when hunters and professional organizations and guides opt to skirt the laws that have come about because of these very self sabotaging infractions.  There is talk of this area becoming a hunt zone, and it bothers me greatly how many of these people will come through all this hard terrain to set up a camera, but could not be bothered with showing up when we needed help restoring this system.  Sister Barbara used to tell me the world is not black and white.  But she also told me "Dextram ponere,"  which is funny because that is what it says on the side of Mad Max's car, but in English.  Anyway, I was very aware of the fact that I had glanced at the petroglyphs while watching the hunkered down Ram.  I knew then that every bit of bad luck that would happen on this trip was now on me and mine eyes that should have stayed shut.  

The tanks each had just over two feet of water in them.  This is a testament to the Flex Seal family of products.  When we restored this system two years ago, it was discovered during cleaning that the tanks each had a crack and had the layers showing delamination.  There is not exactly a tractor supply down the street at this location, so I had to make due with what was in my van.  Despite skeptics giving me criticism, the product was holding up and the water looked good enough for me to in the 115 degree heat consider dipping in.  Over on the Spring side of things, Arioch was unhappy because the Spring had gone dry again.  He lamented that as few as four years ago, this spot held water year round.  Now, it has become seasonal.  Regardless of his lamentations, it is a testament to his will and capability that the system that had zero use for years is now helping the Bighorn to thrive.  Arioch snaps at me about what am I doing daydreaming?  We have places to go.  

Our next jaunt across the desert takes us to a place I am forbidden at this time from identifying.  Going to this place is the reason we did not bring my van on this trip.  It will not fit under the railroad crossing used to access this particular island in the Preserve.  Further, it would be very difficult to maneuver it in the canyon where the spring we were going to survey is.  I had packed a cot so we could spend the night without my worrying about rattlesnakes trying to keep me warm.  This particular drive starts as easy and pleasant as a trip to the market.  Then the rocks start crunching, the Chola starts scratching, and the elevation starts climbing.  Years ago when we first attempted to survey this one, the coordinates were hopelessly off.  We found the remains of an old mining camp of some size.  Can dumps, stone walls, and some rudimentary infrastructure told a tale of the ago heyday.  But there was no spring.  Arioch and I used to go through this a lot on Spring Surveys because so many of the coordinates were incorrect or obsolete.  We have a search pattern we use to compensate for digressions in the various coordinate systems.  This particular destination required something a little more real world.  On that initial inspection, before Arioch had Glacier to help, as we were giving up, my nose (Sister Barbara always said I was part dog.) caught the scent of water.  I told Arioch to follow me and we began a hike that took us up what once must have been the mine access road.  We passed somebody else's abandoned camp site, and we came upon a magnificent set of cascading pools and greenery.  You would never know you were in the Mojave by how lush and fantastic this area was.  Now fast forward to the now.  The pools are dry.  The Spring is not flowing.  In fact, it is a tiny little puddle in the rocks with a sickly rattlesnake protecting it.  Wow, what a difference.  We (Arioch) decide to hike up the canyon further looking for other potential places where the water has escaped from the ground.  We come across two mines and decide to explore.  Within the mines we find shafts filled with tens of thousands of gallons of water.  In the pitch black, we shine powerful light beams through the clear water and marvel at the depths.  We can see the submerged ladders leading deep down shafts into adits and the unknown.  It is an otherworldly experience that I enjoy not just for the imagery, but for the seventy degree break from the 115 degree day awaiting us outside.  The hike down the canyon was with only one incident.  We had to backtrack one section to get away from a rattlesnake.  It did give a little chase, and we were worried about Glacier.  Arioch got photos, and we continued without issue. 

Back at Arioch's Cherokee, we set up our camp for the night.  I begin to ponder the history of the mine and this particular Spring.  Arioch calls it a "locals only" location.  I think that as I put together the history, it might make for a future excursion trip for one of the MDHCA Rendezvous events.  Arioch will be upset, but if people from Goffs are not "locals," then who is?  I just want to share the underground submerged shafts.  The colors, the air, the mineral deposits.  Truly incredible!  At camp, I grilled up some burgers for our dinner and I got ready to get to bed early.  Not Arioch.  He spends the first few hours of darkness going up and down the canyon we are in "saving" toads from the heat.  Shouting at me every time he finds a little toad, a rattlesnake, or a water seep.  "Do I want to come see?"  No son.  I just want to go to sleep.  In my cot.  Where the rattlesnakes can not reach.  In the morning I am up early.  Arioch is passed out with his dog in the back of the Cherokee.  I take the opportunity to photograph the cuteness.  You would never know what a hard ass Arioch is by those photos.  

Heading back to Lanfair Road, we came across a couple of Adventure Motorcyclists.  Actually, they came across us.  In a blind curve they came around going a bit too fast for their capabilities.  One of the riders is target fixated on Arioch's Jeep and is drifting, across the road, right at it.  Arioch jerks the wheel, putting us on the dirt road shoulder and the guy misses us by inches.  I see his wide open shock filled eyes as he passes.  Arioch lets off some language he learned as a young child while working at our motorcycle shop and we continue our journey.  On our drive back to MDHCA, along Lanfair Road, Arioch suddenly slams on the brakes.  "That was a snake!"  I am used to this, so yeah, whatever.  He throws it into reverse and we back up past a Mojave Green!  No mistaking the color.  Now I am interested.  These guys are legendary and if you have heard some of the stories, you know why.  He is coiled, tracking us, and rattling his warning.  Arioch again starts digging for the good camera.  We tell Glacier he has to stay in the Jeep.  I tell Arioch I am leaving the doors open so that we can get in quicker if The Green decides to chase.  He does not decide to chase.  For over five minutes Arioch gets the most amazing photos and I take videos.  We decide we don't want to leave him on the road for fear of Adventure Motorcyclists running him over.  We toss pebbles for some time before he decides to move off the road, rattling at us the whole time.  What an awesome day so far!  But dammit, those petroglyphs I looked at.......

We drove the rest of the way back to MDHCA to switch to Arioch's truck.  Today's itinerary would see us heading North to cut through Las Vegas on our way back to the State Line to inspect the Bob Campbell Drinker System and to install a camera and tank water level gauge so that I could in the future remotely check water levels.  The Bob Campbell system is located in BLM Wilderness, so we try to minimize visits to minimize impact on other people's wilderness experience.  Yes, it is as ridiculous as it sounds.  We also had plans to go see Glenn Shaw and pick up a McClellan Saddle for the slowly growing Ft. Piute display.  Glenn has been very passionate about the preservation of this piece of history and  I was looking forward to seeing it at the MDHCA exhibit.   But first, the Sheep were thirsty.   

For a Labor Day Weekend, the traffic was very light.  Both Arioch and I were surprised with the time we were making.  We had experienced a small delay when we were trying to leave Goffs and a damsel was in distress with a dead battery.  Having made short work of the repairs which consisted mostly of a jump start, we had hit the road with a purpose.  Now, Southbound on the 15 we crossed Stateline and were commenting on the lack of personnel at the inspection station when we suddenly hit a wall of traffic.  We don't know what happened, but consulting Google (same number of letters as Skynet, just saying.), we discovered that there was a fifty mile detour in effect between Nipton and Cima.  Well that was not going to work.  So, we exited and backtracked back to Stateline to enter the Mesquite Wilderness via the tore up route that takes us through the Stateline Wilderness.  Wow, that is not the way I wanted to go.  Plus it was adding time to our journey that had me checking in with Glenn to see if a later arrival would be okay.  Glenn seemed pretty amicable to whatever time we got finished at.  Little did he know.....

We made it as far as the truck could go and scrambled out to hit the short hike to the Bob Campbell System.  The cutest thing I saw on the hike was when there was one outcropping of rock that the usually unstoppable Glacier was struggling to jump onto.  Arioch came and tenderly helped his dog up.  It was adorable.  The system itself was where we had left it.  It was also unfortunately empty of water.  Panic set in as we began looking for indicators of leakage.  None were found.  We disassembled the drinker box and found a float that was functional but dry.  Arioch climbed up to the dam and discovered that the screen was still exposed!  This area had not been hit with this past year's monsoon?  How was that possible?  The drive up proved that heavy rain had hit the area.  The 15 at Primm had been under water!  Yet this spot had not received any of the event?  Unreal.  Was it because I looked at those petroglyphs?  Probably.  I hurried to install a cellular camera aimed at a tank level gauge that I calibrated and installed.  Then we began our scramble back to the truck.  The sun was dropping rapidly and thanks to Caltrans shutting down the 15 I knew we would be struggling to make it out of the middle of nowhere in the dark.  Little did I know we had another delay coming at us.  When we got to the truck, the bed was filled with a nest of bees!  They had been attracted to the moisture left behind in the carry bag from Glacier's cooling vest and they had decided this was as good a place as any to spend the night.  It was a slow and delicate operation getting into the truck and seeing how far the bees would follow.  Further than I would have thought.  Now in pitch dark and almost to the road, a loud hiss from Arioch's front right tire.  Oh look, there is a large piece of Creosote sticking out of the sidewall.  Petroglyphs.  More time lost to changing the tire with a bottle jack that has blown its seal!  Arioch starts stacking rocks to hold the one ton truck up while I try to fix the jack.  I did fix it.  A day later when I threw it in the dumpster!  The irony here is that sitting back at Goffs, next to his trailer, is one of those super cool, easy to use Badlands Off Road Jacks.  You know, just in case the Jeep we left back there gets a flat while we are gone.  

Feeling horrible about the time, I give Glenn Shaw one final call to make sure he is even still awake.  We had just hit the pavement at Sandy Valley and he assures me the time is not a problem.  As we climb up out of Sandy Valley and start the descent into Goodsprings, I pick up the smell of burning rubber.  Then suddenly we are in a cloud of dust so thick we have to practically stop.  Arioch and I both come to the conclusion that somebody crashed at about the same moment.  Sure enough, there is a spun out little sedan sitting with its tail up in the air about four feet higher than its front end.  The guy is spinning his tires trying to unstick himself.  Seems like he had been trying for a long time.  Arioch asks if he is okay and a short conversation ensues with him asking if we can pull him down.  More lost time later the guy is driving away in a car that is a little less than roadworthy.  Talk about the day turning rough and getting away from us.  

We arrived at Glenn's place at about midnight.  I am so sad about this.  And Glenn comes out, gives me a hug, and invites us in and makes all of the day's problems go away with pleasant conversation and stories about Goffs, the Old Spanish Trail, Burro coming to the spring just outside of his place, and of course, about the cavalry saddle we were picking up.  It is a relaxing breather after a day that went on way longer than we intended.  We parted ways looking forward to meeting again at Rendezvous in October.  We make it back to Goffs at about 0230 and I am pretty sure Arioch, Glacier and myself are out cold by 0233.   

The next morning at MDHCA, We are up way too early.  We needed to hit the road again, but first Laura took Arioch to evaluate the old burn pit area that was just beyond the new "Miners Camp" section.  The goal was to open it up, level it out, and create an overflow camping location for larger events.  It would take us until the following day to have time, but we did level it out.  I used the MDHCA backhoe to push the larger mounds down and to move the larger rocks.  Arioch hooked up the tire drag to the MDHCA truck and did laps around me smoothing out the whole mess.  It was dusty work and in the 112 degree heat, with the engine on the backhoe running, I soon figured out why a pillow had been left on the metal plate that someone had removed a seat from.  Like the genius that I am, after I had blistered my butt, I found time to go install the seat from Ed's Garage that has been collecting dust for the last several months.  Nothing like closing the chicken coop after the birds are already wandering the front yard.  Now it will be comfortable for when I teach Bill Slutter how to operate the backhoe.  

Arioch and I had brought our archery bows and had thought we would get some time at the range in.  But when the time came, we were both just spent and opted to pack the truck up early and try to get home.  I snapped some final photos of a couple of things at the museum that I have been working on and we said our farewells.  It turns out the petroglyphs had one more surprise for us and that came about when the truck's radiator sprung a leak at Kelbaker road.  Good thing we had left early?  Two hours of watching epoxy dry just to make it to Ludlow and discover we would be calling a tow truck.  Sometimes, you just can not win.  Unless you are a petroglyph.  Maybe that is the solution.  I should have a petroglyph done of Arioch and me to defeat this constant curse that follows us anytime we go to Arioch's favorite part of the Preserve.