What an incredible day was today. We started the day by exploring back up SR-168 toward the big Bristlecone Pine forest, and then we took some whimsical side roads – with amazing and pleasing results.

You can get an idea of the bigness of desert spaces from this sign. The “no services” means no gas, water, food, no thing of any kind for that entire distance. It actually can be even worse than signage indicates. For example, Coaldale Junction, a major refueling depot on SR-6, basically shut down many years ago. All the services that used to exist there are boarded up and abandoned, vacant staring windows from shells of once-prosperous business buildings. You’d best be carrying lots of gas and water when you mess with the desert.

We worked our way up the SR-168 canyon, through some impressive geology. This section of the road is signed as one lane, but it’s really about 1.5. We saw a full-size semi truck with a warehouse full of hay bales coming down this same road. Not for the faint of heart. Interestingly enough, uphill traffic has the right of way. Why? Because it’s very dangerous to back-up downhill.

A combination of long, rough, high-altitude paved-then-dirt roads took us a total of 35 miles to the forest. It required more than an hour, and we climbed from 3,900 feet elevation to 11,200. The 7,000+ foot climb left me with some minor non-acclimated problems — a tiny headache, and I could easily get short of breath while eating. But hiking and walking around were no problem, Karin felt fine, and we took an easy stroll, about a half-mile through the Patriarch grove.

It’s easy to be impressed by these ancient living things. Even the young ones were born in Jesus’ time, and the oldest ones sprouted up before the pyramids of Egypt. Bristlecones achieve their longevity by dense, resin-rich wood, and a slow, resolute reproduction and growth cycle. They are so slow to grow that faster species beat them out of lower-elevation territory. A 40-year-old bristlecone may not be quite six inches high! And a 500 year-old tree might be as much as five feet high. But they are so hardy that they can exist where other trees fade away. As a matter of fact, Bristlecones that grow in sheltered, water-rich areas actually don’t develop the strength and resilience of their beat-up brothers in the dry heights – they die young, and the “old men” live on with their twisted, battered branches and trunks braving the sun and winds. Even a small stripe of bark running up an otherwise dead tree will keep remote branches alive for centuries, toughing it through every winter, every drought.

This is the Patriarch, about 2,000 years old, and missing about half its bark. The center trunk in its cluster is completely dead, bereft of bark or any green growth; But still standing strong, part of the tree’s overall structure.

Guess which way the prevailing winds come from?

On the way back down the mountain, we saw a lone wild mustang hanging around a feed trough and salt lick. It was unusual to see a horse this high (10,000 feet). He was heavy-bodied, fat and furry, apparently quite healthy.

On a whim, we decided not to take the twisty, narrow, steep paved SR-168 back down to Big Pine. Instead, we elected to take a raunchy little dirt pole-maintenance road called Silver Canyon. We asked about its condition, and people would first look at Ralph, size up his tires and ground clearance, and then say, “Yeah, you can do it”.

Silver Canyon descends the entire 6,000 feet from our 10,000 at the high saddle, to 4,000 at Bishop. The first 3,000 foot drop occurs in a little over five miles, roughly an average 12% grade. In fact, the legs of the switchbacks vary from 8-20%, and some spots nearly level out entirely. But the turns in the switchbacks are awesome, 25% wheel-cranking near-U-turns that almost exceed Ralph’s turning radius. I could feel the front Carjan joints heaving and bucking as the tires fought each other at extreme steering angles.

With the steepness of the road and its length, the only choice for the downhill was compound low, and once again Ralph proved the value of his 4×4 setup by saving his brakes for the half-hour bump-and-crunch down the hill. Such a versatile steed.

After the initial steep, rough, and rocky descent, the remainder of the road was more docile, just 2WD rough dirt, with a lot of stream crossings — but all of them shallow and innocuous (at least in November). At one stream crossing, Karin started getting very animated, and shouted excitedly her typical informative “LOOK, LOOK!!!” – so I looked. Most of the time, I have no idea what she has identified until she adds some slightly more descriptive wording. But this time, I immediately saw what she saw – an entire band of bighorn sheep, watering at the creek crossing.

This was beyond amazing. These creatures are among the most elusive animals to be found in the wild, and sightings in most locales (that they inhabit) are rare. What was more impressive was their “cooperation” – after a few blurry camera shots through the windshield, we timorously got out of the truck, to see their reaction. We figured they’d just boogie off into the canyons. But in fact, they seemed almost as curious as we were. They continued to browse the harsh brush within 50 yards of us (hardly a safe distance for rifle fire, but they are not hunted hereabouts). The light was already crimped by the high ridges all around, and photography was not at its best. But we shot pix until the camera shutter button almost wore out (kidding). I picked a few favorites for this post.

Catching a drink in the gathering dusk….

Watching over his harem (and us intruders) from a rocky outcropping….

Showing their famous sure-footedness on the impossibly steep rocky cliffs….

…with little Junior following Mama on ledges six inches wide.

After the sheep encounter, we were just jazzed, happy and excited all at once. We were SO pleased that we had made the decision to take a different path home – the exhilarating road, the mile-drop views, and of course the Bighorns, were all a huge reward.

We gassed up in Bishop. Checked email while the pump was running. Wow, five bars of 4G!! But of no real use – the computer was back at camp. So we headed home for yet another relaxing cozy evening in our wonderful Howie. Today, life was even better than good. Tomorrow, we head off to Panamint Springs Resort to spend Thanksgiving and say howdy to the Cassells.