Around Cedar City Sept 29-Oct 2

 

My plans for an ambitious Lake Powell hiking/canyoning/packrafting loop were canceled fairly last minute when we realized that pretty much all the roads in the area will be washed out for quite some time as a result of the over-active monsoon season the southwest has been having this year. Fortunately, I was able to pivot pretty quickly to a trip to Cedar City for mineral collecting and fall colors with Ryan. As a bonus I would finally get to meet his UV light friend Bill and partner Rachel. Quite unusually I had rain much of the way across Nevada. As I drove through its gorge, the Virgin River was a chocolatey mess that had me wishing I brought a packraft. Eventually I arrived in late afternoon, giving us a chance to head out for some afternoon scouting at the Desert Mound pit (aka the toilet bowl) and tailings piles where we did not find too much of interest. We then drove further on to check out a few roadside tailings at Iron Mountain (more promising with some magnetite and apatite) and then drove to the top for a stellar view of the surrounding desert. We poked around at some of the summit diggings before being chased away by rain. We had a nice social evening.

The next day we started around midday with a wildcard option of driving south to check out some old mines at Silver Reef near Hurricane. Somewhere here (10 mile radius...) there was supposed to be an occurrence of hydrozincite and calcite that made very showy UV specimens but the geology did not really seem to match this type of mineralization and we did not see much more than some copper stains. A day and a half in, I had surprisingly few rocks to show for all the looking. We drove back towards Iron Mountain to check out a hillside quarry we were interested in. This proved to be one of the most interesting sites we visited with an enormous 150 ft high cut face exposing some breccia filled in with magnetite veins and pockets. We found interesting calcite crystals, magnetite crystals, lilac/pink fluorescing apatite, and Ryan found several stellar gemmy apatite crystals to 1.5" loose on the scree slopes. We had fun collecting here but never returned at night which I am sure would be the real reveal. Dinner at the Chinese buffet in town and then more UV mineral collecting at the "saddle" locality of the Armstrong Mine tailings. This surprised us with fantastic multicolor specimens.

Coming off a particularly late night with a UV mineral collecting hangover, our plans for the third day materialized slowly but eventually settled on a big day of an 8.5 hour trip into a deep mine, then more post-dark UV collecting. I packed and organized as efficiently as I could. This was my second time into this mine, this time going deeper down to the 850' level. The shattered timbers, collapsed shafts, vertical ladders with missing rungs held together with nails and occasionally paracord, dizzying downward views of hundreds of feet, and boxes of dynamite still left a strong impression, even if some of the first-time fear and adrenaline was quieter this time. As before I was thoroughly impressed by the complexity of the mine, sketchy chaos, well-preserved mining artifacts, and dazzling ore minerals. A highlight for me was exploring the attic area at the 350' level that had some of the most incredible multi-colored and multi-patterned rock I have ever seen. This time around it took us nearly 3 hours to carefully climb back up the network of ladders, the mid-ladder squeezes being much more notable obstacles on the way out. Really just an incredible place overall. 

After exiting the mine under the stars, we walked back to the car and drove on to check out two more UV mineral locales. A little north of the Harrington-Hickory Mine, we scoured hillsides and tailings for bright blue fluorescing hydrozincite, sometimes with bright orange calcite and neon green chalcedony. We then checked out the Rebel Mine, which had some incredible day-glo orange calcite and calcite-aragonite brecciated crystal pockets. The collecting was great but I easily lost enthusiasm around 2am. We stopped in at a remote 24 hour diner, clearly disappointing the bleary-eyed employee working the graveyard shift. After a meal it was more driving, a shower to remove the thick layer of dust and grim, and then a hard crash into bed.

The last day we had another slow start owing to our previous big day and night. We sorted out our rocks and pressure washed them clean on the driveway. 285 lbs ended up being my final tally to bring back home. In the late afternoon all four of us piled into Bill's truck and drove through Cedar City, up Cedar Canyon, and up onto the 10000' elevation Markagunt Plateau for some fall color leaf peeping. We stopped at the roadside Duck Lake for some fiery reflections (frontispiece), then onto the west side of Navajo Lake where Ryan and I flew our drones over the colorful aspens. With the light nearly played out here, we drove on to the east side of the lake for another flight over the aspens interspersed with conifers and lava. I had been wanting to see a good fall color show for some time and this happily scratched that itch.

In the morning we loaded up and said our goodbyes, everyone headed out three different directions. I huge thanks to Ryan for hosting a few fun days of fossicking, Rachel for hospitality, and Bill for driving us around. For Plan B it was a great and sorely needed getaway before I plunge into the meat of the academic quarter.

Bristol Mountains Sept 15-16

 

Craving a quick desert escape despite punishing heat, I packed Spartan to go visit a rock collecting site I was last at when I was 18. It was also a chance to stretch my new Subaru's offroad muscles a bit. I left pavement in the afternoon near Ludlow, drove north towards Broadwell Dry Lake, then turned east on a pleasantly graded powerline/pipeline road. There wasn't a lick of shade but distant puffy clouds. Eventually the road turned very sandy, having me test the deep snow/mud Xmode, which helped but also was less responsive than I expected. Sections were two-rutted in deep sand such that I could not stop and had to maintain speed to avoid getting stuck; it reminded me of the old Disneyland Autopia ride where the track was essentially driving me and the steering wheel served no purpose. Thankfully the sand abated and the road improved. I was treated to nice views of the Kelso Dunes once I breached the saddle and began a gradual descent into the broad basin. It was a punishing 104F when I stepped out of the car and began my hike up the wash to the old strawberry onyx mine that I used to love collecting at with my dad when I was a kid.

Arriving at the mine camp, I was delighted to see the unusual flat-roofed mining shack was not only still standing, but actually had been repaired since my previous visit when I was 18. It is a novel design, made of stacked railroad ties with a chickenwire-concrete roof. I had very little recollection of the onyx collecting area itself, so enjoyed walking over the nearby hillside looking at the discarded rocks and outcrops. It is still a mysterious deposit with a roughly 2 acre deposit of layered carbonate tilted about 25 degrees to the southwest, seemingly bounded by pyroclastic volcanic rocks on all sides. My best guess from a cursory look is some sort of surficial hydrothermal deposit with an algae/cyanobacteria component based on some of the rock textures. Anyway I was mostly distracted by the beautiful banded strawberry onyx, which was focused in two bands. It was nice to see there was plenty of material scattered around to enjoy.

Note same corner as photo below

Self-processed and printed B&W from when I was 18

I caught a beautiful sunset from the top of the onyx hill looking northeast towards the Kelso Dunes (frontispiece). After dark I was delighted to look around the onyx area with a UV light, discovering at least a half-dozen scorpions in the process. A subset of the honey-colored onyx had a vivid emerald green fluorescence that was fun to look for. It seemed I could potentially have been the first person that thought to search this site for UV rocks. I killed a good chunk of the night just looking around and enjoying the cooler nighttime temperatures before cowboy camping in the nearby wash.

In the morning I looked around a bit more and then headed out before the heat of the day set in. It was a quick but rewarding escape with a nice combo of nostalgia, a light solo adventure, and some neat rocks. A bit premature but had me excited to do some more desert exploring this winter.

Flanks of the Kern Sept 4-7

 

Recently I have had reason to spend some time in the greater Kern River area, prompting me to revisit some locations I had not been in nearly two decades and to search out some new interesting things to do in the area. Since I typically go to the Kern during boating season, I found the river particularly low and slow-moving and instead looked more to the flanks of the river.

In the headwaters of the Tule River just west of the Kern is the Alder Creek Sequoia Grove, well off most people's radar but with some impressive trees on a steep hillside. The area partially burned in the 2020 Castle Fire (among others) but the core of the grove remains a verdant island of giants. Notably the Stagg Tree here is apparently the fifth largest tree in the world and is estimated at about 3000 years old.

Poppy Lake in 2020 Castle Fire

Stagg Tree (5th largest tree in the world)

Alder Creek Grove (and below)

Dome Rock is a short dirt road detour off of CA-107 that offers expansive views over the Kern including the Needles. Nearby a short hike leads to Nobe Young Falls, which has a neat shaded alcove behind it, perfect for a picnic.

The Needles from Dome Rock

Nobe Young Falls

Heather and I hiked 2 miles out to the site of the Needles Fire Lookout, which has become a very popular hike it seems. I have fond nostalgic memories of the lookout on a June 2008 climbing trip with Jeff and Richard. After climbing some of the walls of the Needles, we stopped by the lookout. Beyond the amazing view and remarkable strapped-to-a-rock construction, we were greeted by a cheerful volunteer living in the lookout (watching for fires) baking fresh cookies on the wood-burning stove. Unfortunately the lookout was completely destroyed by an accident involving that same stove in 2011, leaving behind a stairway to nowhere. The hike did not have quite the same appeal as before between the many people on the trail and the lack of the lookout, but the views were still great including views of the backside of Mt Whitney and the backside of Farewell Gap in Mineral King. I was grateful I got to see it before.

Needles from lookout site

Needles Lookout site (2026). Mt Whitney at left skyline

Needles Lookout in 2008 (before 2011 fire)

Heather and I also did an interesting drive on a neglected Forest Service Road 23S16 south of Johnsondale. Despite being paved, it was overgrown to the point of being barely one-lane, with many logs nearly blocking the road. For being Labor Day, we saw nearly no one on this forgotten road traversing interesting chapparal and scraggily forest. We stopped briefly to check out Indian Rock labeled roadside on the topo, which indeed had several old mortar grinding pits in the granite slab there. We took a detour near Baker Point to what I previously identified as a digging, stumbling across a very cool rose quartz claim. Though limited in area (60ft x 30ft), the colors and patterns were spectacular.

We hiked about a mile out to Baker Point Lookout, one of the few remaining fire lookouts in the area (frontispiece and below). Looking a little weather-worn and neglected, it was nonetheless interesting to look inside and to enjoy the views from its surrounding catwalk including of Lake Isabella, Kernville, and Mt Whitney again.

Baker Point Lookout (and below)

Continuing on we drove more of 24S16 past meadowlands, then down the dirt road of 24S15. On the way I stopped to check out the Tip Top Mine, which turned out to be an old quartz lode gold occurrence. All in all this Greenhorn Mountain area was more interesting than I expected and I look forward to checking it out further in the future, particularly to see another fire lookout and some potentially interesting marble outcrops.

Dry Meadow

Keweenah Peninsula July 28-31

 

After the go, go, go of the previous two days we had a more relaxing day of playing it by ear, driving west across the Upper Peninsula towards the Keweenah Peninsula, a true peninsula sticking out into Lake Superior. We drove about 1.5 hours west to the historic town of Ishpeming for a short geology hike I heard of. Through a series of steep streets (and past lots of rusty red rock buildings and red dirt ground) we reached Jasper Street and started hiking past old mine diggings and up the small hill of Jasper Knob. At its crest was a slight clearing with about a half-acre of glacially polished banded iron formations, something I had not seen in the wild before. Banded iron formations (BIFs) are unique sedimentary rocks with alternating layers of iron oxides (hematite, magnetite) and silica (jasper, chert) that only really formed in the Precambrian when Earth still had an oxygen-poor atmosphere. Here the BIFs had silvery hematite and red jasper in interesting post-deposition folds. From the hilltop clearing we could see the downtown of Ishpeming; instead of church steeples and belltowers there were strange obelisks protruding which I later learned were the 1920s Egyptian Revival-styled concrete headframes of an important iron mine. This area in the central Upper Peninsula was a major global producer of iron ore and essentially kickstarted America's Industrial Revolution and fueled major war efforts. On the way back down the hill we ducked through a cut fence and checked out a small flooded iron mining pit occupied by some happy green frogs.

Banded iron formation (BIF; and below)

Ishpeming, iron country

On the way out of town we stopped at a self-proclaimed tourist trap rock shop. Copper and iron specimens were in abundance. There were nice labels describing many of the local specimens but every one was also exaggeratingly labeled very rare or one-of-a-kind with prices relatedly out of touch. Onward, we pulled into a very busy parking lot at the Canyon Falls Roadside Stop for a short detour to break up the drive. A short hike led down alongside a ledge-y creek, which abruptly plunged over the wide sheet of Canyon Falls into a dark and mysterious little canyon. Vertical walls, lots of rock shelves, deep tannic waters, and lush greenery continued horizontally for over a thousand feet in what is apparently unironically referred to as the grand canyon of Michigan. After walking to the bottom I scouted a natural waterslide I wanted to try and I took the first plunge before I went in. It was too bumpy to really be fun but I went a second time just to be sure. After, I suggested we instead migrate to the pool just below Canyon Falls when Heather noticed I was coated (coated!) in small wriggly black things (from sliding) she was convinced were leeches. I knew they were larvae of mosquitos or some other bug but still was happy to remove them as fast as possible. Eventually I managed to convince her to slide into the pool below the falls for a brief soak before we continued on. It was quite a pleasant little roadside wonder.

Canyon Falls

Out of iron country and into copper country, we drove through Houghton, the main town at the base of the Keweenah Peninsula, to Michigan Tech's A.E. Seaman Mineral Museum. I had heard good things but was really not prepared for what turned out to be a truly excellent museum. There were fantastic and unique specimens from around the world and a very nice fluorescent display, but the easy standout was the vast collection of Michigan minerals, most of which were collected within a 50 mile radius. Large, shiny, ornate and crystalline forms of copper were in abundance and on a scale and quality I have seen nowhere else in the world. A favorite was a one of a kind specimen of featherlike copper crystals that transitioned into a feather of silver crystals. Other local treasures included Lake Superior agates, strange howlite-like nodules of pastel-colored datolite, and highly fluorescent sodalite granitics I hoped to find on the beaches nearby at night. I took quite a few photos at the museum but my favorites were the textures more than the specimens including a Widmanstatten-patterned meteorite and the finest variscite I have ever seen. We stayed in the museum until just before closing time and then on the way back to our car spotted a strange pavilion. Inside was a 19 ton piece of copper found by scuba divers and dredged up from lake Superior, the largest known single specimen. The museum was a nice introduction to the importance of copper production in the region's history. 

Meteorite 

Variscite detail

No big deal, just a 19 ton chunk of nearly pure copper

After the museum and grocery store we drove out to Trail's End Campground near Copper Harbor at the top of the peninsula. First we checked out Agate Beach at Hunter's Point Park. Here we saw about thirty people very deliberately hunting for agates on the beach. I took this as a clear sign the beaches would be very picked over for agates and the fluorescent sodalite pebbles ("yooperlites" as popularized locally but potentially better named "canuckites" since glaciers dragged them here from Canada) I hoped to find. Sure enough this was the case, but at least the beaches were very scenic with clear waters and a long crisp horizon over Lake Superior. 

We found our campground to be a weird place with lots of their workers living there, weird buildings and projects in various states of construction, and lots of electrified gardens plots. Between weather and my interest in trying to look for UV minerals at night (and late sunsets...), we struggled to figure out a plan for our next couple days. An ambitious option was to drive on to Wisconsin to check out some of the Apostle Isles, which would be neat to see but a lot more driving. We decided to hike out to the end of Hunter's Point and packraft the narrow 300ft gap over to Porter Island (frontispiece), which I hoped would be less picked over. We did not really find all that much but it was a beautiful beach and a pleasant night to be out paddling. Returning under a nearly full moon, we opted to paddle the half-mile back to the carpark instead of walking.

One of many beaches named Agate Beach

Shaping up to be a mellow day, we drove through Copper Harbor the next morning and stopped briefly at Fort Wilkins State Park for some interesting old historical buildings and exhibits then to Astor Shipwreck Park and a return drive along Brockway Mountain Road.

Fort Wilkins

We drove a bumpy road out to Gratiot River County Park, another surprisingly busy beach for agate collecting. The beach had a nice bank of pebbles and cobbles and we did find a few agates and interesting rocks. In hindsight it probably would have been the better place to look for UV minerals than where we ended up. I unsuccessfully tried gathering an assortment of granitic rocks to hide under my hat to check with my UV light. 

Gratiot River County Park

We visited one of the stranger, more deranged, and expensive rock shops I have ever been to then walked around Calumet a bit. Eventually we drove to Calumet Water Works Park, again a busy beach with everyone seemingly looking for rocks. We hung out here for a good long time waiting for dark so I could look for some fluorescent sodalite. Eventually it came and we walked to the beach to find dozens of UV lights shining up and down the beach. It was supremely silly and I was about to be the worst of them all. With considerable effort I suited up in my wetsuit/boots/hood, donned my mask and snorkel, and skimmed over the rocks in the shallows with my waterproofed UV light. For all that effort I turned up one small pebble of sodalite; with less effort Heather found a single one too. After all that we crashed late at a campsite in Hancock Recreation Area, setting us up for a late morning.

We stopped in at a cafe in Houghton and Heather took the initiative to schedule us a tour of the Quincy Mine, one of the area's major historic producers of copper. The tour was actually quite interesting, showing off several generations of hoists including one that was the largest of its kind in the world, well-designed buildings, and a cog railcar that took us down the hill to a horizontal adit we walked 2000 ft into at the 7th level of the mine. The cool 43F air blasting out the adit was particularly notable. Interestingly a lot of the copper fissure veins were too large and too pure, taking days, weeks, and months to extract the malleable copper so the mining instead switched to extraction of lower grade amygdaloidal basalt deposits. Essentially the ore body was too good and worked against them! Probably the thing that impressed me most was seeing the map of the mine with its nearly dozen shafts to 9260 ft, 92 different levels, and realizing that all that volume was completely flooded up to the 7th level we toured. After the tour we found a nice rock shop in downtown Houghton and then began our drive back across the Upper Peninsula. We zigzagged through a bizarre series of backroads to eventually reach the very primitive one site campground of Iron Jaw, completed with horrendous flies.

The largest steam hoist ever constructed

Ore hoist cart in foreground, hoist houses at right

Looking up the mine shaft and ore body the adit intersected at the back

Remnants of a Michigan Tech mining engineering classroom

Cog railway

Quincy #2 Shaft Rockhouse

30 man transport cart at right, water cart at left

In the morning we cloaked ourselves in long sleeves, pants, and bug nets to guard against the flies and gathered our own breakfast of tasty roadside raspberries. 

Driving back we stopped in at Kitch-iti-kipi Spring (technically not on the Keweenah Peninsula like half the things in this post but oh well). We waited a good long time for the opportunity to take the slow people-moved raft across the source spring. Though from my perspective a modest sized karst spring, it nonetheless had pretty colored waters, crisp reflections, and interesting views of the source springs below us kicking up sediment as if boiling.

Our last Upper Peninsula stop within sight of the Mackinaw Bridge was to stop to try a pasty, a folded crusted pie the area is supposedly famous for. They were fine. Another long drive across the mitten and we were back. A huge thanks to Heather's parents for our home on wheels and to Heather for helping put together a pretty chill week of experiencing this mysterious Upper Peninsula I had been hearing about.