On the Trail of George Wingfield

 

Wingfield's Reno National Bank on the corner of Virginia and Second streets

  In the 1920s and 30s, banker George Wingfield was the richest person in the Silver State, a man who was sometimes called “The King of Nevada.”

  While today it’s largely historians or old-timers who recall his enormous influence on the state’s economy and politics, a handful of places associated with Wingfield remain standing.

  George Wingfield was born on August 16, 1876 near Fort Smith, Arkansas but raised in Lake County, Oregon, near the Oregon-Nevada border. Wingfield’s father operated a cattle ranch and, after completing the eighth grade in Lakeview, the younger Wingfield began working as a cowhand, a sometime gambler, and occasional horse jockey.

  In 1896, Wingfield moved to Nevada, first to Winnemucca, where he apparently befriended banker George S. Nixon. Two years later, he moved to Golconda, where he operated a saloon, races horses, gambled, and prospected.

  In 1901, Wingfield relocated to the mining boomtown of Tonopah, where he, again, made his living as a gambler and, with his winnings, invested in real estate. A year later, he began to act as a representative for Nixon, who was looking for investment opportunities, particularly in mining claims.

  The Wingfield-Nixon partnership really took root after 1904, when Wingfield headed to the new mining boomtown of Goldfield. There, the two successfully invested in mining claims, businesses, banking and real estate opportunities.

  Within a few years, both were multi-millionaires, who controlled nearly all of the mining operations in Goldfield. It’s been estimated that Wingfield was worth between $20 million and $30 million by the time he was 30 years old.

  In 1909, Wingfield, sensing that Reno was soon to become the largest and most important city in the state, relocated to the Biggest Little City. He would remain living in Reno until his death in 1959.

  At that time, he and Nixon, who became a U.S. Senator from Nevada, ended their partnership, with Nixon taking control of the banks and Wingfield assuming sole control of their mining, real estate and other investments.

  With Nixon’s death in 1912, Wingfield purchased Nixon’s banking interests and began buying up many of the other banks in the state. By 1932, he owned 12 banks and controlled more than half of all the deposits in the state. He also owned two hotels in Reno (the Golden, purchased in 1915, and the Riverside, which he built in 1927), ranching operations throughout the state, a thoroughbred horse farm, and the state’s only bonding company.

  In the early 1930s, the start of the Great Depression, Wingfield’s banks began to suffer massive losses. By 1935, he had lost a substantial part of his holdings and filed for bankruptcy protection.

  But later that year, a good friend, Noble Getchell, a mine owner and state senator from Lander County, invited Wingfield to partner with him in developing a new mine near Golconda. The mine proved to be everything that Getchell and Wingfield hoped and by 1941 it was the largest gold producing mine in the state and within a few years (after World War II) Wingfield was again a wealthy man.

  Retracing Wingfield’s steps across Nevada, one can still find places closely associated with him. One of the most impressive is the still-standing four-story Goldfield Hotel, which he constructed in 1908.

  The hotel, in the center of the former mining town, has been closed since the end of World War II, although several more recent owners have unsuccessfully attempted to restore and reopen it.

  Another Wingfield touch-point is the former Reno National Bank building at 206 North Virginia Street in Reno. Built in 1915 by Wingfield and designed by famed Reno architect Frederic DeLongchamps, the building became part of the Harrah’s resort property in the 1980s.

  More recently, it has been vacant with new owners still determining what to do with the distinctive Classical Revival structure.

  The Riverside Hotel at 17 South Virginia Street in Reno, built by Wingfield in 1927, also remains intact. No longer a hotel, it was renovated and converted to artist lofts in 2000. The Golden Hotel, however, was destroyed in a fire in 1962.

  Wingfield Park, which sits in the middle of the Truckee River in downtown Reno, was built on land donated to the city by Wingfield. Another of his longtime properties, Spanish Springs Ranch, is gone, having been replaced after 1995 by a 400-home subdivision (Redhawk at Wingfield Springs).

  The site of Wingfield longtime home at 219 Court Street in Reno is, sadly, a vacant lot. The home, once listed on the National Register of Historic Places, was built in 1912. Unfortunately, it burned down in 2001.

Mountain View Cemetery's Celebrated Dead

When actress Dawn Wells, who gained fame as the character, Mary Ann Summers in the TV show, “Gilligan’s Island,” recently died at the age of 82 of complications due to COVID-19, it was only appropriate she be laid to rest in Mountain View Cemetery in Reno.

Wells, who was born in Reno, had long maintained close ties with her hometown. In fact, she was buried adjacent to her mother, Evelyn, with whom she shared a birthdate (October 18), who passed in 2004.

Mountain View Cemetery, which is part of a complex of two cemeteries commonly referred to as the Mountain View Cemeteries in Reno, has long been the final resting place for prominent Renoites. The dual burial grounds include the newer, non-denominational Mountain View Cemetery, as well as the older Masonic Memorial Gardens Cemetery, which dates to 1871, according to the Order of Masons.

Reno historian John Townley has written that Reno’s earliest cemeteries also included a Catholic burial ground on land now part of the University of Nevada, Reno, and the Hillside Cemetery on Nevada Street and University Terrace.

After the establishment of the university, the Catholic Cemetery was moved to its present location north of McCarran Boulevard while Hillside Cemetery, now largely abandoned, is still there, looking out of place as it sits adjacent to fraternity houses and apartment buildings.

The present boundaries of Masonic Memorial Gardens appear to have been established in 1899, when the Masons purchased additional acreage to expand the cemetery.

Wandering the lush, green lawns of the peaceful and picturesque cemeteries, it’s easy to spot dozens of prominent names—names that seemingly half the streets in Reno were named after, including Zolezzi, Wedekind, and McCarran.

In the Masonic Cemetery, which contains many Nevada politicians, you can find the large sarcophagus memorializing U.S. Senator Patrick McCarran as well as a tall bronze bust commemorating former Nevada Governor John Sparks.

Another political figure of note there is Edwin Ewing (E.E.) Roberts, who was born in Pleasant Grove, California, in 1870, and died in Reno on December 11, 1933. 

Roberts served as Reno’s mayor from 1923-1933 and as Nevada’s Congressional representative from 1911 to 1919. He taught school in Empire, Nevada from 1897-1899, and was a successful divorce lawyer in Reno for many years.

The political figures are generally fairly easy to find because their plots were often marked with either massive granite mausoleums or, in a few cases, bronze busts, now turned green with age, which depict their likenesses.

A few of the non-political figures who found peace at the Mountain View Cemeteries include famed 19th century journalist Alfred “Alf” Doten, who was born in Plymouth, Massachusetts in 1829 and died in Carson City, Nevada, in 1903.

Doten wrote and edited for newspapers throughout the state, including Virginia City, Gold Hill, and the mining camp of Como (above Dayton), and maintained detailed diaries over several decades that described life in early Nevada.

Additionally, Mountain View is the final resting place of Velma “Wild Horse Annie” Bronn Johnston, who was born in Reno in 1912 and died in the city in June 1977. 

Johnston was an animal rights activist, who, in the 1950s, exposed the cruel and yet legal methods used by Nevada ranchers, hunters, and “mustangers” to eradicate wild horses roaming on public lands.

She led a grass-roots campaign, which involved school children writing letters to Congress, to draw attention to the mistreatment of the horses, and sparked the passage of federal legislation banning the capture, branding, and death of wild horses on public lands.

The Mountain View and Masonic Memorial Garden cemeteries are located on Stoker Avenue, directly north of West Fourth Street in Reno.

New Book Details Devils Hole Pupfish's Struggles to Survive

Devil's Hole Pupfish (Photo courtesy of Olin Feuerbacher)

The Devils Hole Pupfish is a small blue thing. Measuring only about an inch-long and often lacking pelvic fins like other pupfish, it has been described as “tiny and wimpy.”

   But, as author Kevin C. Brown notes in his new book, “Devils Hole Pupfish: The Unexpected Survival of an Endangered Species in the Modern American West,” it is a survivor, having overcome a host of challenges during the past century and a half.

   The Devils Hole Pupfish (the apostrophe is typically left off when referring to this particular species, according to Brown), is known, scientifically, as Cyprinodon diabolis. It is a fast-moving thing that earned its name because of the way groups of them seemed to chase each other about—like a pack of puppies.

   According to Brown, part of what has made the Devils Hole Pupfish so special is that it was classified decades ago by federal scientists as a unique species and, because they only exist in Devils Hole, an endangered species, under federal law.

   Brown, in fact, devotes his first chapter to tracing the story of how the Devils Hole Pupfish was first discovered (in 1891), how the tiny fish were studied and classified by early scientists, and how it came to be formally considered a unique species.

   The latter point was particularly important when, in 1952, President Harry S. Truman added 40 acres of the Amargosa Desert known as Ash Meadows, which included Devils Hole, to Death Valley National Monument (now known as Death Valley National Park). The move provided permanent protection from development and other threats to the site.

   Brown, who writes scientific information in easy-to-understand terms, describes Devils Hole as a kind of funnel-shaped fissure or crack in the ground that is a window into a deep subterranean lake. At about 45 feet down, the opening is filled with warm water from the lake.

   The water in the 10-feet wide and 60-foot-deep crack, which is a constant 92 degrees Fahrenheit, and serves as the entire universe for the pupfish. A rock ledge in the fissure, barely below the water line, serves as its sole spawning area and the algae that grows in the hole is one of its main food sources (along with insects).

   Brown also describes the myriad threats the pupfish have faced over the decades, which range from numerous plans to pump groundwater from the area’s underground aquifer to use for agriculture and development, which would have caused drop in the water levels at Devils Hole, to disastrous government agency efforts designed to try to help the fish, which ended up actually killing them (such as in 2004 when a flash flood knocked measurement equipment into the hole and killed more than a third of the known fish population).

   The low point in the pupfish population came in 2013, when a population count found only 35 of the species still alive in the hole (just 20 years earlier there were between 400 and 500).

   Fortunately, the population has rebounded in more recent years and, according to Brown, have numbered between 135 and 185. The fish, he noted, is not yet in the clear but efforts to preserve their habitat and the species seem to be helping.

   Devils Hole is located about 25 miles south of Lathrop Wells, off Nevada State Route 373. To reach it, head south on Highway 95 through Tonopah. Lathrop Wells is located another two hours south of Tonopah on 95.

   For more information, go to: www.nps.gov/deva/learn/nature/devils-hole.htm.

  “Devils Hole Pupfish: The Unexpected Survival of an Endangered Species in the Modern American West,” by Kevin C. Brown is published by the University of Nevada Press and available in local bookstores or can be ordered on the University of Nevada Press website, https://www.unpress.nevada.edu/.

Eastern California's Alabama Hills Offer Incredible Scenery and Hollywood History

 

At Alabama Hills, you can walk in the footsteps of John Wayne, Robert Downey Jr., Kevin Bacon, Clint Eastwood, Roy Rogers, and dozens of other film and TV stars.

   The 18,610-acre national scenic area, located about 2.5 miles west of the community of Lone Pine, California via Whitney Portal Road, is the place where more than 400 movies and countless television shows have been filmed since 1920.

   The first known cinematic effort to use the hills as a backdrop was “The Roundup,” a comedian Fatty Arbuckle silent movie filmed in 1920. More recent films and shows that incorporated the area’s mountain/high desert scenery have included “Gladiator” (2000), “Iron Man” (2008), “Django Unchained” (2012), and “Man of Steel” (2013).

   Of course, there is a reason Alabama Hills is such a popular location for directors and cinematographers: its location relatively close to Los Angeles and Hollywood and the fact it can look like so many other parts of the world.

   In those hundreds of films, the hills have been a stand-in for the Middle East, frontier Arizona and New Mexico, ancient Rome, distant deserts, and other planets. With its unusual geology, consisting of various types of volcanic rock, Alabama Hills can be repurposed to serve as a substitute for places all over the world.

   Geologists describe the distinctive boulders and rocks of the hills as weathered granite that has been shaped by wind and erosion. The result is a spectacular landscape filled with smooth, almost organic-looking boulders, arches, spires, and corridors, with the jagged peaks of the Sierra Nevada range in the distance.

   The geologic features of the area, including the formation of the Sierra Nevada range, were shaped by uplifting that occurred 100 million years ago.

   At about the 2.7-mile point from Lone Pine, the road forks, with Whitney Portal Road continuing directly west and Movie Road branching (on the right) in a slightly northwestern direction. The latter leads to the bulk of the best boulders and formations.

   For example, at nearly the one-mile mark (from the fork), you can hike to the east of the road into what is called the Lone Ranger Canyon. This was the place where many of the adventures of the famed TV lawman were filmed in the 1950s. A little farther to the north of the canyon is where parts of the film, Django Unchained, were shot.

   At the 1.5-mile mark (from the fork), you reach a sharp curve and to the left is the short Arch Loop trail, which leads to several of the area’s most prominent rock arches, including Mobius Arch.

   Southwest of the trail are the sites where several other well-known movies were filmed, including “How the West Was Won” (1962), “Gunga Din” (1939), and “Tremors” (1990).

   If you continue for several more miles on Movie Road, you will end up back on US 395.

   For those with more time to explore, overnight camping is available at the Tuttle Creek Campground, with 80 sites, located south of the hills via Horseshoe Meadows Road.

   As for why a cluster of picturesque rocks and boulders in eastern California is named Alabama Hills, according to historians, among the first non-Native American visitors to the area were prospectors who staked mining claims in the Owens Valley area.

   Many were sympathetic to the Confederate side during the Civil War and named the hills after a Confederate warship, the Alabama, that had sunk a Union man-of-war ship, the Hatteras, off the coast of Texas in January 1863.

   In more recent years, there have been efforts to rename the hills, which were known by the native Paiute people as “Payahuunadü,” meaning “the land of flowing water.” While the Bureau of Land Management is still pondering its next step, many believe the site should be renamed to its original Paiute name, rather than continue using a name with racist connotations.

   For information on the name controversy, go to: https://www.nationalgeographic.com/travel/article/california-eastern-sierras-reckon-with-racist-history-renaming-alabama-hills.

   For more general information about the area, go to: www.blm.gov/visit/alabama-hills-national-scenic-area.

Sodaville: Home of the Rare and Once Endangered Milkvetch

Buildings at Sodaville (Photo courtesy of Ken Lund)

 You won’t find a Coke in Sodaville. You also can’t find Pepsi or Mountain Dew or any other brand of soft drink.

Despite its frothy name, Sodaville owes its existence to the presence of two mineralized hot springs that flow in the area (hence the name) and a railroad’s need for a station in the area—and not to any type of carbonated beverage.

  Located on U.S. 95, about three miles south of Mina, Sodaville is today, in fact, little more than a name on a map with a handful of decaying buildings. Some online sites actually describe it as “an extinct town in Mineral County.”

  Historical records indicate the area was settled in the 1870s under the name Soda Springs. Situated about 20 miles north of the mining boomtown of Candelaria, it’s believed Soda Springs may have provided water to that mining camp and surrounding camps.

  In 1881, the Carson & Colorado Railroad decided to locate a rail station and roundhouse at Soda Springs, which, was renamed Sodaville. Additionally, a stage/freight line was established linking Sodaville to the mining community of Belmont (about 110 miles to the east).

  Along with transportation-related enterprises, Sodaville also became a popular warm springs resort for locals.

  By the early 1900s, Sodaville had become an important shipping point for ore coming out of Tonopah and Goldfield and supplies going back to those booming mining towns.

  Sodaville also became the site of a couple of small milling operations, which worked ore from nearby mining camps.

  Nevada history writer Stanley Paher has noted that in 1904, there was such demand for faster travel between the Carson & Colorado terminus at Sodaville and Tonopah that the horse-drawn wagons were replaced with Stanley Roadsters boasting 32-horsepower engines and room for up to 16 passengers.

  The trip, which had previously taken an entire day, was now possible in a blazing six to eight hours.

  Sodaville’s usefulness as a regional transportation hub soon came to an end following establishment of the Tonopah & Tidewater Railroad in the summer of 1904, which offered quicker, cheaper and better service.

  A year later, the Carson & Colorado’s owners decided to relocate its operations from Sodaville to Mina.

  In about 1915, tungsten was discovered in the mountains west of Sodaville and by the mid-1920s, a tungsten mill, the Silver Dyke, was erected in the community.

  These mining operations, however, were short-lived and Sodaville quickly slipped into obscurity. Today, only a few buildings, foundations and mounds of dirt mark the site of the original settlement.

  A perhaps apocryphal story about Sodaville appeared in the WPA Guide to Nevada, published in 1940. According to the guide, in 1904 a notorious local gunman named “Two-Gun” Mike Kennedy had been bullying camp residents for some time when he encountered a quite but determined miner named James Lund.

  Kennedy had been messing with Lund, who, tired of the harassment, challenged the gunman to a shoot-out. According to the story, Lund was unarmed so “Two-Gun” Kennedy loaned one of his pistols to the miner.

  The two squared off in the center of town, with residents lining both sides. Despite his reputation as the “toughest man ever to emerge from the East,” Kennedy was no match for Lund, who apparently fired all six of his bullets into Kennedy’s body. The sharpshooting Lund, however, was unharmed and, it was said, walked back into the saloon for another drink.

  While little remains of the community, Sodaville has been in the news for two non-mining related reasons in recent decades. In the late 20th century, naturalists discovered that the area was the site of a rare plant known as the Sodaville milkvetch (or Astragalus lntiginosus var. sequimelralis), a member of the pea family.

  According to reports, the Sodaville milkvetch has only been found at two locations in Nevada and one in California. It can be recognized by its divided leaves, purple flowers and inflated, elongated seed pods.

  The Sodaville milk-etch only flourishes in moist, alkaline clay flats near springs and around desert seeps, such as the marshy spring-fed areas found at Sodaville. As a result it was included on federal endangered species lists until recently.

  The other reason Sodaville has been in the news in recent decades was in the 1990s, when an entrepreneur acquired ownership of the area’s hot springs and decided to raise Australian red claw crawfish, which resemble small lobsters, in tanks fed by the springs.

  For a time, he was fairly successful, advertising to travelers on U.S. 95 that they should stop in to pick up what he called “Desert Lobsters.” At the peak of his operations, he had more than a half-million of the shellfish in his tanks.

  Unfortunately, however, he neglected to obtain the proper permits from state wildlife officials to commercially farm a non-native species. Concerned that the crawfish might migrate into other nearby warm springs, some of which contain threatened or sensitive species, his operation was shut down.

  According to news reports at the time, the would-be crawfish magnate wasn’t supposed to sell the crawfish live, which he was apparently doing. After repeated warnings, wildlife officials raided the crawfish farm and killed off the invasive species by pouring chlorine bleach into the tanks.

  So, the next time you’re heading south on U.S. 95 and you’ve just passed the town of Mina, pause for a moment at Sodaville to ponder “Two-Gun” Kennedy, the infamous Desert Lobsters and the rare milkvetch.

Peter Lassen's Final Resting Place

 

It’s peaceful at Peter Lassen’s gravesite near Susanville, California.

Surrounded by tall pines and adjacent to large, open meadow, Lassen’s final resting spot is picturesque and tranquil. The gravesite, which resembles a small park, is located at 2550 Wingfield Road, about six miles from downtown Susanville via Richmond Road.

Lassen, namesake for a county in California, a national park, a national forest, a mountain peak, and a community college (in Susanville) is today recognized as one of the most important non-Native American pioneers to settle in the northeast corner of California in the 1840s.

Lassen was born on October 31, 1800 in the town of Farum, located near Copenhagen in Denmark. Named for his grandfather, Peter, his last name was formed by taking his father’s name (Lars) and adding “son.” Since spelling was haphazard in those days, he was known as Peter Larson as well as Larsen, Larsson, Lawson, and Lassen Farum (after his birthplace). Eventually, he simplified his name to simply Lassen.

By the time he was in his mid-20s, Lassen had become a master blacksmith in Copenhagen. But economic success proved elusive so, in 1830, he migrated to America for better opportunities. After brief periods in Boston and Philadelphia, he settled in Keytesville, Missouri, where he worked as a blacksmith and was active in forming a local militia.

In 1838, he became acquainted with John A. Sutter, who was just embarking on a trip to Hawaii and California. Sutter, who eventually settled in the Sacramento area (and founded that community) invited Lassen to join him in Northern California, which he did in 1840.

After a few years of working in California, during which he had success milling lumber, making furniture, and building saddles, Lassen was able to receive a land grant from Mexican Governor Manuel Micheltorena. His new holdings amounted to 22,000 acres at the confluence of the Sacramento River and Deer Creek, about 22 miles south of modern-day Red Bluff.

During the next few years, Lassen established a small ranch, known as Bosquejo Rancho, which included 2,300 cattle, horses, and mules, fields of cotton, a vineyard (from which he made wine), and a trading post/store. His property attracted others and he helped start up a new town, Benton City, near his land.

In 1848, Lassen traveled to Missouri and led a wagon train back to California by way of a more northern route than previous wagon parties had traveled. Known as the Lassen Trail Cutoff, it proved to be a far more arduous journey than the more traveled Carson Pass or Truckee Pass routes. Despite that fact, thousands would follow on his trail.

Some historians note that Lassen had another motive for encouraging travelers to take the Lassen Trail—it led to his ranch, where he could sell goods to the weary travelers.

Despite that, Lassen was largely viewed as a generous man who was quick to organize rescue parties for lost or struggling travelers. He also was constantly seeking new ways to make his fortune.

In 1850, one of those schemes involved purchasing a steamboat that he planned to use to transport goods and products on the Sacramento River. Unfortunately, the river proved too difficult to navigate and the venture went bust. Lassen lost nearly everything, including his rancho.

By 1855, Lassen had relocated to the Honey Lake area, where he established two ranches, one on the banks of the lake (near present day Milford) and another near present-day Susanville.

Lassen also tried his hand at mining, prospecting in the Black Rock Desert region. In late April 1859, Lassen and a band of eight other men headed out to the area to search for silver. The party split into two groups, with five of the miners leaving first to set up camp and Lassen, along with Edward Clapper and Lamericus Wyatt, departing later.

The latter group traveled for a few hours but couldn’t catch up to the main party and decided to set up their own camp. Interestingly, they were only a mile away from the main group’s camp.

The next morning, as Lassen and his friends were sleeping, they were attacked by an unknown party. Clapper was shot in the head and killed immediately as he slept while Lassen was shot and killed after he stood up to see what was happening.

Wyatt, who jumped on his horse and rode 125 miles to Susanville, told residents that Lassen and Clapper had been killed by either members of the Pit River tribe or the Paiutes. Some were skeptical, however, since whoever killed Clapper and Lassen didn’t raid the camp, which contained food, clothing, and whiskey, after Wyatt rode off.

An expedition rode out from Susanville and found Lassen’s body (but not Clapper’s). They buried Lassen on the site, where he remained until November, when a second party removed him and buried him adjacent to a large Ponderosa tree near his Susanville ranch (where he had previously indicated he wished to be buried).

Clapper’s body wasn’t recovered until 1990, when rock hunters found a skull and upper body skeleton in the Black Rock Desert. In 1992, his remains were buried alongside Lassen’s.

Following Lassen’s death, in 1862, local Masons (Lassen was a member of the order) erected a stone monument adjacent to his grave. By 1917, the ten-foot-tall marker had begun to deteriorate and the Masons erected a larger, taller one adjacent to the site. Today, an enclosure protects the original marker and the Lassen and Clapper gravesites and wooden benches have been set up for visitors to sit and enjoy the surroundings.

Petroglyphs and Pre-History Found Just Outside of Sparks

 

Griffith Canyon petroglyphs

A place I had not learned of until recently that certainly piqued my interest is Griffith Canyon, located in the foothills north of Sparks and on the edge of Spanish Springs.

I had read the canyon was scenic, not too difficult to navigate, and contained good examples of petroglyphs, which are prehistoric Native American rock carvings that are believed to be sacred and related to either hunting, fertility, or something else because no one knows what they mean.

I also was surprised I wasn’t aware of it because of its close proximity to Reno and Sparks.

So, off to Griffith Canyon I went on a recent Saturday morning. Following the instructions that I found on Google Maps, I drove to Nevada 445 (Pyramid Highway) in Sparks, then continued north about eight miles to Calle De La Plata road. I turned right on Calle La Plata, drove another 1.8 miles, then turned right onto Valle Verde Drive.

I passed through a neighborhood of large ranch-style homes for a quarter-mile, then turned right onto Agua Fria Drive (continuing for a half mile). At El Molino Drive, I turned left, and drove about a third of a mile on a dirt road that led to a pair of stone and white metal fences (like a gateway) that stand on each side of the road.

About a quarter mile downhill from the fencing, I found a wide spot in the road (to the right), where I decided to park. On the opposite side was a metal culvert and below was a gash in the mountains that I hoped would be Griffith Canyon.

At first, I wondered if I had found the correct place. But as I stood on the road looking down into the narrow canyon, a full-grown buck with large antlers suddenly appeared before me. I took it as a sign that this was the spot, and slowly climbed down the hill into a rocky, dry wash (wear sturdy shoes, like hiking boots because it’s easy to twist an ankle here).

The buck heard me and bounded up one of the sides of the canyon and disappeared. I continued into the canyon. A rough trail appeared occasionally and seemed to crisscross the creek bed, which was lined with pinion, sagebrush, wildflowers and grasses.

As I walked on, I saw the sides of the canyon became steeper with more rock walls—ideal spaces for petroglyphs. About a third-of-a-mile into the hike, I encountered the first panels of rock writing to my left. Here, I could see jagged lines and patterns carved into the reddish rock wall.

A bit farther, and there were round shapes as well as a carving shaped like a stick with three prongs and stick figure-like images. At the bottom of the rock face, there is also an unusual carving that resembles a turtle.

I marched on for another half-mile, where, to my right, I found the greatest concentration of petroglyphs—several larger rock panels covered with carvings that resembled a big-horn sheep, various circles, lines, and other patterns. In other places I could see more stick figures and other lines and shapes.

Standing in the middle of the wash and looking at the carvings, I had the feeling of being in a spiritual place. These images had been carved several thousand years ago for some unknown but no doubt important reason.

From the road to the larger panels is about three-quarters of a mile, making the entire hike, back and forth, a bit under two miles—and well worth the effort.

One thing to keep in mind is that the petroglyphs here are fragile, so be respectful. The canyon is best explored between April and November, and since there are only a few trees, make certain to dress appropriately for sun and bring water.