public lands

“These images and words are a reflection, simply and wholly, of my respect for our public lands and the public science and occasional art I am, and we are, able to do there. Our ability to create and think are not trivial, and wild space and healthy ecosystems nourish such things. It is here that we will find our better selves, even as the misdeeds of a few threaten much that, until recently, provides for our common good. Keep going.“

NvGO Notes 2025.03.14

**Biconic**. Young volcanic cones rise in the Lunar Craters National Natural Landmark, Great Basin Desert, NV, USA

Maybe high points don’t have to be the goal. I established my High Points quest in the 1990s to encourage my exploration of the Nevada outback. I knew summit goals could guide me as I traversed Nevada’s Basin and Range and grew familiar with its amazing variety of desert landforms. Over 30 intervening years, I was not as persistent in my high-point pursuit as I could have been – I missed several years or went months at a time without visiting a summit, but my exploration has been almost ceaseless as I worked on a wide variety of geoarchaeological projects and managed to summit 130 of Nevada’s 317 (or so) named ranges. I grew more patterned and regular as I began writing about the excursions. I am, however, due for change.

I love walking hills and will continue to do so, but the list has become mildly oppressive. My desire to experience Nevada’s variety of places and landforms is no less, but I found myself focusing on the summit without slowing to take time and experience a place. The value and pleasure of creating images and mapping landforms was, at times, forgotten or set aside. I will also admit that as I age, I am getting slower on the uphills (and downhills), so more time is needed to attain each summit, taking time away from other desires. I rarely, if ever, sit to watch for wildlife or changes in lighting on an outcrop or rock art panel. Something is often missing.

**A start**. A pair of Lesser Scaup take flight in Mason Valley WMA, Great Basin Desert, NV

**Roost**. Double-breasted Comorants await the morning sun, Mason Valley WMA, Great Basin Desert, NV

I begin to realize this as I circle the Worthington Hills in south-central Nevada, looking for a way through the recent snow. The ridges below the summit look great in parting clouds, but I am alone and cutting steps on the steep slopes I had hoped to climb does not seem prudent. I thought I had best leave the Worthingtons for another time and head to a lower set of hills on the White River near Hiko, snow-cover should be less there. I did not want to ‘waste’ a drive this far into southeastern Nevada and not get a summit, so I drove on – Distraction #1. Although I was surrounded by amazing scenes of snow-lined and cloud-wrapped peaks above Joshua Tree sharpness, I did not pause.

**Lost snow**. Horizons fade in a late snow in the Great Basin Desert, NV

As I approach the Hiko Hills, I find a long stretch of irrigation pivots fenced behind ‘no trespassing’ signs. It is late in the day, so I decide to venture around the fields and gain the high point in the morning. I turn into the foothills of the Seaman Range and eventually find a faint two-track that leads to a secluded alcove among a maze of granite outcrops, like a lonely version of the Alabama Hills. Distraction #2. A desire to explore the outcrops begins to take precedence; attention to the nearby hills fades.

**Towers**. Granitic outcrops of the Seaman Range, Great Basin Desert, NV, USA

**Hanging on**. A juniper tree clings to the granite of the Seaman Range, Great Basin Desert, NV, USA

**Whale rock**. Heavy shapes in the outcrops of the Seaman Range, Great Basin Desert, NV, USA

**Way through**. Clasts and texture in the granitic outcrops of the Seaman Range, Great Basin Desert, NV, USA

I set camp and wander until after dark, returning to my little camp as snow begins to fall. There is enough wind to push the feathery flakes sideways, and soon an inch or two of snow powders the bitterbrush and sage and covers my tent and field boxes. Distraction #3 – these are getting healthier as I push the any high point further from my mind, wanting only to wander the granite for images in the morning light. I will probably have fog in the desert!

The squalls clear overnight, and the moon takes over, adding bright ambience to haunting calls of a Great Horned Owl. I crawl out of the tent in the pre-dawn as the moon sets beyond Mount Irish. Snow brightens slowly, while the fog teases from the canyon of the White River, far to the east. It is not adding to the intrigue of the nearby hoodoos and spires, but at least I was not wrong completely; it is here, sort of. I grab my gear and lose myself among the rocks.

**Last blue**. Sunrise approaches the snow-spattered outcrops of the Seaman Range, Great Basin Desert, NV, USA

**Crystal layers.** Weathering release in the plutonic granite of the Seaman Range, Great Basin Desert, NV, USA

I cannot say that I came away with portfolio imagery, but it was the most fun I’d had in a long while photographing. Distraction #4 – I could not care less about the Hiko Hills except to enjoy the fog along their distant slopes. I would not be hiking any hills today, and that was OK.

After a wonderful morning, the snow melting almost immediately with the sunrise, I head back onto Highway 93, traipsing through a couple Wildlife Management Areas, eventually turning toward Lunar Craters National Natural Landmark. Distraction #5 – I was now excited about scouting locations, thinking about landforms I could document, and enjoying an excursion without goals. I became practically joyful considering how the ‘distractions’ allowed me the freedom to develop a refreshed approach to Second Friday and excursions into the Nevada outback.

**Before or after**. A dash of color in the cold of blue hour, Seaman Range, Great Basin Desert, NV, USA

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I never thought I would climb every high point on my list, it has always been aspirational, something to keep me going, something to highlight the lesser-known places – why else would I even think about visiting the Hiko Hills? But I really do not need the list, the intrinsic value, beauty, and curiosity of our public lands – now facing challenges unpredictable – is aspiration and inspiration enough. We will see where the distractions lead.

Keep going.

**Spring flight**. A Red-tailed Hawk searches the Lunar Craters National Natural Landmark, Great Basin Desert, NV

Please respect the natural and cultural resources of our public lands.

#naturefirst #keepgoing

Desert fabric. Alluvial carved hills of the southern Pilot Mountains, Great Basin Desert, NV, USA — **Desert fabric**. Alluvial carved hills of the southern Pilot Mountains, Great Basin Desert, NV, USA

Pilot Peak

9187 ft (2800 m) – 2418 ft gain

2025.02.38

Keep Public Lands Public

Every once in a while, on these high point wanders, I choose a really good route. Not that there are bad routes, but I often end up choosing a misleading side canyon of riparian bushwhacking, leading to bouldery talus below false summits. Other times I get to the evident high point where I notice a confusing array of summits of similar elevation, so I question my maps and wander around visiting each one. Again, this is not a bad thing, it is always good to be in the hills – unless the light is fading, or a storm is coming. My route on Pilot Peak, however, was perfect.

A narrow inset alluvial fan and floodplain in the bottom of Dunlap Canyon is the only mappable Quaternary landform along my route.

I had turned off Highway 395 just before Mina, NV, heading into Dunlap Canyon. The road is well maintained, likely because it is secondary access to communication towers adorning the summit; the main, newer route is via Telephone Canyon further south and west. I suspect the road originated as the Dunlap mining district developed. I park at a prominent fork in the canyon, leaving my truck in a thick Juniper grove, and I walk the westerly fork heading upward toward Pilot Peak rising a few thousand feet above me.

A lonely cabin sits among trees just off the road, and it is here that I decide to leave the graded track to find my way among Juniper woodland and patchy snow. Although it has been incredibly warm for late February, a few snow squalls had rolled through in the past couple of days. Snow covers north-facing slopes where the sun cannot reach on even the warmest days. I climb away from an inset floodplain of Dunlap Canyon to find dry ridges on volcanic tuff. The Juniper are widely spaced; vegetation density drops as we approach the transition to Mojave Desert communities not too far south of the Pilot Mountains. The route steepens so I contour among the few trees and sparse sagebrush before heading directly to the north ridge that extends from the main summit. Scant and twisted Juniper greet me at the ridge, artifacts of the arid wind that binds them to the distance as the valleys drop to either side.

Turning south, I avoid a false summit by crossing crunchy snow, cutting solid steps on the steep slope. It is at the southern end of the snow that I find the road from Telephone Canyon, which I can see tracing into deep, dark, and snow-filled canyon far below. It looks very interesting but would have been a very long, slow approach in late winter.

I reach an expanse of 360-degree views on the summit, but the highpoint is otherwise unimpressive. Buildings and towers crowd machine-cut platforms, and a low hum of electronics (or cooling for the electronics) pervades the calm. The sun is setting beyond Boundary Peak and the White Mountains to my west, and Earth’s shadow rises opposite. I put on another layer, but do not linger long. It is going to be dark soon, and I have left my headlamp in the truck. Time is of the essence.

Steep-cut switchbacks wind among mining prospects on the eastern front of Pilot Peak. I can follow these, cutting through occasional snow, until I find a descending ridge that leads me into the dark of Dunlap Canyon. The dirt of the road is just visible in the last gasp of blue hour. Imaginary sounds in the Juniper at road’s edge keeps me attentive; I am curious what the Mountain Lion – the one I never see – thinks of this wandering figure in the canyon bottom. Not worth the effort, I hope. Nevertheless, the adrenaline jumps every now and then, as my thoughts wander.

I never feel any real danger in the back country, I am cautious typically. My technical climbing days are over, so I pick routes of relative ease. The chances of encountering a predator interested in me are low. I have yet to see a Cougar, the one large animal still missing from my list of Great Basin critters. It is good, however, to know they are out there, keeping it wild and keeping us thinking about them. The wild things help me to feel alive, my senses present. I hope someday to share a moment with a large cat, as I have with song dogs, Bighorn Sheep, Pronghorn, and the birds of night and day.

Pilot Peak was a good loop. By chance, and some practice, I chose unbroken ridges and fitting slopes. I had the pleasure of evening light on the summit, and the tingling thrill of a canyon walk in the dark. I will view the towers often as I drive Highway 395, but I will also know what lies beyond the altered high point – the ridges and slopes where you can see and feel in the dark. And that brings us life.

Keep going.

Please respect the natural and cultural resources of our public lands.

#naturefirst #keepgoing

Embracing Distractions: Mason Valley – Seaman Range – Lunar Craters

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Nevada High Points #130 – Pilot Mountains