Birds

Nevada High Points #128 – Slate Ridge

D. Craig Young · December 31, 2024 · 8 Comments

Mount Dunfee

7064 ft (2141 m) – 1647 ft gain

2024.11.13

I am on the road again. Having arrived home from northwestern Nevada only recently, I need to be in southern Nevada for some time in our Desert Branch office and a quick bit of fieldwork near Rogers Dry Lake in southeastern California. It is one end of the state to the other, and from the Great Basin Desert to the Mojave. I enjoy the quick transitions, one ecology to another, Basin and Range to the Walker Lane tectonic silliness, and the travel day provides the opportunity to explore another high point without much of a detour. South of Goldfield, Nevada, I turn west at Lida Junction before heading into alluvial expanses below Slate Ridge.

This small, circular range is a tilted block of limestone and volcanic rocks, with actually very little slate, but for dispersed outcrops east of Mount Dunfee, the range high point. Not only is there little slate, Slate Ridge is not much of a ridge either. It has some fantastically dramatic outcrops and steep slopes, but it is really a complex jumble of hills and volcanic plateaus; however, from the historically minded town of Gold Point at its base, the western prominence of Slate Ridge is nicely imposing and ridge-like, if not slatey.

Map of the alluvial bajada along the western front of Slate Ridge and Mount Dunfee. Note the surface texture and general shapes of the oldest (Qa1) to the youngest (Qa4) individual alluvial fans and pediments.

Vague roads head toward various prospects visible on the slopes at the mountain front. I follow a maintained route before parking where a two-track intersects and provides a good start point. I have some wide bajada to cross before the steeper slopes begin. A bajada is a typically broad, mountain-front apron of coalesced alluvial fans, each emanating from its own canyon. Individual fans have their own source areas, with rock types in the fans matching the geology of their canyon sources generally. Because this region remains tectonically active, each tectonic jump or sheer along the mountain-front tilts the fan upward or moves the source canyon aside. The actions are quick, and the fans continue to build in the long quiet intervals in between – weathering and flashy floods cutting into and delivering sediment to the fans of the basin below. The lifted fans are isolated as gullies incise, and we can look at the degree of surface weathering and incision to place each fan and each tectonic change in time. The fan patterns are evident in aerial imagery, but there is nothing better than walking across the landforms themselves. It is why I visit these places.

And, yes, there is the high point to reach. There are mining prospects where the fans intersect the mountain front, and the slope steepens into a nice climb. I soon notice circling raptors as I gain the ridge leading to the Mount Dunfee summit. There are several large birds, but one stands out, and its prominence does not go unnoticed by other birds who are doing their best to alter the larger bird’s slow, soaring path. The Golden Eagle merely shrugs at the swoops and dives of the Red-tailed Hawks; it looks as if the eagle is just passing through, veering close to the roosts of the juvenile hawks unknowingly. The Golden continues its straight-line glide path unperturbed.

I am soon on the summit of Mount Dunfee, a rounded dome among a scattering of cliffs. But something seems wrong. This is the named location of Mount Dunfee; I can, however, see a clearly higher summit to the northwest. It is, maybe, a half mile away, and one of the hawks is perched there. It is a sign!

It is not unusual to have a few summits of similar elevation in a summit cluster, especially among the smaller groups of hills or even along the high ridge of a prominent range. I am often, therefore, second-guessing the labels shown in map apps and other sources. I tend to trust the USGS topographic maps, but even these sometimes mark a named point that is not the high point. This seems to be the case along Slate Ridge. The hawk sensed my brief confusion and helped me out; it seems so, anyway.

The actual high point is more dramatic and precipitous than its rounded, illegitimate twin behind me. The hawk remained perched on the pinnacle until I got close. I hated to disturb it, but it had been watching every movement of my approach, so it was not startled or stressed. Its job done, I found the summit register, and I could enjoy the expansive views toward the Sierra and deep across the ranges of Nevada. There is just enough wind to lift the several hawks – the eagle is far away now – in various swirls and glides among the cliffs and canyons surrounding me. There are at least six raptors close by; maybe more, but I cannot turn quick enough to decide if I have counted that one or that other one, once or twice. A pleasure to watch for a while, nonetheless.

It is another wonderful day in a small, generally unknown group of hills in the midst of Nevada. I could digest the setting of the mountain-front alluvial bajada before reaching heights enjoyed by a kettle of raptors (yes, I looked up ‘kettle’). The descent is easy, and I can soon continue my drive toward Las Vegas Valley and points beyond.

This might be my final high point of 2024. I made it to 13 this year, so far, and I am very happy and fortunate to be able to wrap so many summit excursions into my general travels. I hope for one a month, if only to keep the discipline of getting out, being curious, and learning.

Here’s to more high points in 2025. Thanks for coming along with me here at TrailOption; I look forward to hearing from you and, maybe, seeing you out there.

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Avocets of Kobeh Valley, NV

D. Craig Young · January 30, 2024 · Leave a Comment

**Quarry home**. American Avocet foraging in a gravel quarry, Kobeh Valley, Great Basin Desert, NV, USA

My work as a geoarchaeologist keeps me in the backcountry of Nevada for long parts of the year. I am fortunate to see the sagebrush ocean, while sometimes venturing into the sharper seas of the Mojave, across the seasons. In the late spring of 2023 I was mapping inset landforms in Kobeh Valley, Nevada, along Highway 50 when I cut across the valley on a dusty road to check out a gravel quarry. These quarries, developed for road construction and repair, stand out as small hills amongst the level sage. I seek them out, detouring haphazardly from my path, to look at the stratigraphic window into the landforms that the provide. I have been known to call gravel quarries ‘pluvial lake indicators’ as highway departments can often find ancient gravel bars where no other evidence exists.

Avocet Image Collection

On this day in early June, with a thunderstorm in the distance, I drop behind a horded pile of gravel at the edge of broad pit to find that its rim encompasses a postage-stamp oasis of wetlands and ponds; it is maybe the size of a couple tennis courts. Two pair of American Avocets wander the shore, flushing in a quick circle as I approach and stop dead in my tracks. I abandon my truck, quietly grabbing my camera and a long telephoto. I will lay at the pond margin a while until they settle in to my quiet presence. It is worth the wait.

**Floating by**. An American Avocet in a quarry pond, Kobeh Valley, Great Basin Desert, Nevada, USA

**Forage ahead**. An American Avocet moves between ponds, Kobeh Valley, Great Basin Desert, Nevada, USA

**Working together**. American Avocets in Kobeh Valley, Great Basin Desert, Nevada, USA

**Avocet pose**. American Avocet on the shore of a gravel quarry, Kobeh Valley, Great Basin Desert, Nevada, USA

**Avocet stride**. American Avocet, Kobeh Valley, Great Basin Desert, Nevada, USA

I would love to hear what you think of these. And hear of any places you might have seen these lovely birds in the drylands of western North America, or wherever your journeys, near and far, have taken you.

**Dragon fly gone**. Kobeh Valley, Great Basin Desert, Nevada, USA

Avocet Image Collection

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Wildlife Photography: Getting Lost with the Red-headed Woodpecker

D. Craig Young · April 18, 2021 · 2 Comments

Red-headed Woodpecker | Melanerpes erythrocephalus; foraging for pinyon nuts. Virginia Range, Great Basin Desert, Nevada.

Ok, this is not a bird photography website. It just happens that this was an interesting week.

Six-Mile Woodpecker Collection

After our brief birding excursion along the East Walker River, Desna heard that a Red-headed Woodpecker had taken up brief residence in Six Mile Canyon in the Virginia Range, just below Virginia City, Nevada. This is interesting because the poor bird seems to be a bit lost. Their common range is east of the Rocky Mountains, with only occasional appearances in the West.

Des made a successful sighting in Six Mile Canyon, along with a few other Reno-Carson-area birders out to add this to their lists and to enjoy the attractive, colorful bird. She said I should get up there and get him for my new avifauna image list. That was recommendation enough, so I went up early on a weekday morning – strange to drive into Six Mile and up to the outskirts of Virginia City, a place we lived for almost ten years. Happy to see Shaun and Debbie right off; Desna had also let them know that they had a visitor in their town.

We waited along the road, hoping he would come out for some morning foraging. This was the reported pattern. Sure enough, after about 45 minutes of waiting, I saw the white wing-flash, moving from the pinyon forest on the hillside to the cottonwoods of the riparian corridor. Unfortunately, the daily flow in the Six Mile drainage is augmented by the town’s effluent plant. But the birds do not seem to care.

Red-headed Woodpecker | Melanerpes erythrocephalus. Virginia Range, Great Basin Desert, Nevada.

Red-headed Woodpecker | Melanerpes erythrocephalus; eyes closed, perched. Virginia Range, Great Basin Desert, Nevada.

The Red-Headed Woodpecker worked his way around the cottonwoods. It was a challenge to capture images of the bird as he was adept at hiding in branches and trunks as he forages. We lose sight of him for long periods and then he reappears in a flush of red and white. Although my images are pretty good (I still need to develop the skill of getting a few more sharp images) it is very fun to share some time with a relatively uncommon bird. I have only been ‘birding’ for a few days, and I now have a rare one on my short list. Very fun, with more practice to come.

Red-headed Woodpecker | Melanerpes erythrocephalus; the bird of hearts. Virginia Range, Great Basin Desert, Nevada.

Six-Mile Woodpecker Collection

Bird Image List: Red-headed Woodpecker

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Wildlife Photography: Birds of the East Walker River, Nevada

D. Craig Young · April 17, 2021 · Leave a Comment

**East Walker sunset**. East Walker River, Great Basin Desert, Nevada.

Here is a slightly different angle for the LightOpt Photography blog. My wife and I teamed up on a quick camp trip to the East Walker River to check out birds in the Walker River State Recreation Area, a relatively new component of the state park system. I had passed by here on my excursion into the Gray Hills and thought we might try the campground for an overnight; it is only an hour from home.

The campground sits on old pasture or hayfields of the Pitchfork Ranch which is now the visitor’s center of the State Park. The campground is wide-open space with several sites are close the river, and this evening the place looks rather full as we pull in. We do not typically do campground locations, appreciating the open public lands, but once in a while they make for an easy break – though we aren’t ever in danger of too much discomfort when out in Desna’s camping rig. Even now, with most of the camp sites taken and the crowd looking ready for a whole lot of motorized recreation, we consider heading back out of the park, into the backcountry. But we came to give it a try and quickly decide to settle into spot #10.

And then the drone of generators begins. I have never really understood the camp-need of endless power generation. We have one in our rig, but hardly find much use for it – we cooked popcorn in the just-as-useless microwave, if only to prove we could – the sound is ridiculous. I understand needing some extra power to prep dinner for a family, but the evening-long rumble from just about all camps is something we hardly bear. Anyway, I should not complain much, it is still nice to be out here, and I can look forward to the quiet of the morning, when pre-dawn quiet still reigns.

East Walker Bird Collection

I was out early indeed, wanting to practice bird photography. Des is a great birder and I have been looking forward to documenting, if possible, the various species we come across together. As I step from the camper, flocks of waterfowl are passing low overhead, their calls muffled in the feathered-beating of so many wings. It seems a good start.

I work my way into a riverbend where a grove of cottonwoods holds a Great-horned Owl pair. It is too dark to photograph, but I watch them until they move across the river and farther north. I turn and wait for a Red-tailed Hawk to move from her nest, maybe for a morning hunt, or to switch duties with her mate. I wait over an hour, as the sunrises, and only the songbirds and some Western Bluebirds pass among the branches above me. Nothing in today’s adventure of wildlife photography, but that is how it mostly goes.

Des comes across the fields to meet me, and we walk back toward the slowly stirring campground. As we pass another raptor nest, a mother Red-tail is guarding her roost, and then it is the little birds that spring to action. A Song Sparrow greets the sun and hurriedly gathers material for a nest as a female looks on. He splits time between singing for his territory and bouncing through the grass with twigs, though I cannot quite tell where they are settling in. A Downy Woodpecker gets up a usual ruckus, ricocheting from tree to tree and jack-hammering up and down the branches.

My simple favorite is the common White-crowned Sparrow guarding the fence as we enter the campground. I have a soft spot for the little passerines, the ones we see every day and practically forget they are there. This sparrow poses patiently and then drops to ground beyond the fence to forage for the sparse seeds of early spring.

I later find I had plenty of difficulty getting the focus and depth of field needed for good images. This is something I need to work toward, knowing that capturing sharp, well-composed images of fast-moving birds (and other animals) is always a challenge. I am hooked, however; and the challenge will be a pleasure in the quiet moments among the birds. Thanks to Des for sharing this with me.

East Walker Bird Collection

Bird Image List: Red-tailed Haw k, Song sparrow, Downy Woodpecker, Western Bluebird, White-crowned Sparrow. Links jump to the ebird.org information pages.

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