In Gardnerville we hear,
Both our routes through,
The Pinenut Mountains are smooth,
The north one easier,
So we take the south.
Double-track with embedded rocks,
Creek-crossings, ruts, and mud,
Then come the big rocks 10”-18”,
In several 100' wash sections,
Pick your line well and keep going.
I'm small enough,
When my bike pins me down,
I can pull my foot out of my boot and crawl free.
My cook-set is so contorted with dents,
It barely sits on my stove for dinner.
Instead of continuing we return to Mt Siegel,
Head north along the ridge,
Toward the northern route,
The worst is over,
But the sun is setting.
We camp at 6500',
Higher than planned,
Fortunately there's a lot of wood around,
To build a fire in the road,
And heat a stone to warm my tent.
We wake to a glistening, frost-covered world,
Large chunks of ice float in our water.
The northern route is a fire road.
A grove of yellow aspen,
Greet up on our descent.
We pass the turn off to the Pony Express Route,
To make up some time on the pavement.
At Silver Springs we gas up and lunch.
Matt heads home, he has not been well,
The sub-freezing night didn't help.
Brian and I continue to Fallon,
Try Bobcat Trail over to Dixie Valley,
Easy, loose double-track,
Until a steep 50' hill climb.
We back track and take a dirt road.
Cresting the pass shows a glowing pink valley below,
Pass several fenced clusters of military equipment.
To our surprise the valley floor road is paved,
Quickening our pace to the hot springs,
It's very dark when we arrive, the moon rises late tonight.
Pull off the road shining our headlights around,
All we find are fences with,
“Keep Out – Sensitive Habitat” signs.
Disappointed we return,
To the valley end of Bobcat Trail to camp.
Saturday we try the trail,
Double-track lined with blooming sage,
After a rocky, silty, rutty climb,
We turn around in hopes that,
Brain's gas lasts.
“Nowhere Nevada” is painted on a cistern,
Emphasizing Middlegate's reprieve,
Lunching travelers, hunters, and ATV-riders,
A guitarist serenades us,
While his daughter films on her phone.
Swing by Cold Springs looking for a trail map,
Brian finds a postcard instead,
A KTM-rider coming from Moab,
Stayed at Spencer hot springs last night,
Offers condolences on our unsuccessful springs search.
We pass a mine by Gabbs,
Systematically erasing the mountains.
At Mina's RV park we find a booklet of trail maps,
The product of a local rider,
Very thorough, but too big for me.
The gravel is deep heading into the mountains,
Turning to embedded rocks,
A pair of hunters tells us the road is impassable,
We head back to a promising graded road,
An on-coming truck confirms our path to Hawthorne.
Brian switches to reserve 10 miles from the asphalt,
Entering town in the waning light,
He eyes the motel vacancy signs.
A hot shower is amazing,
Followed by dinner at El Capitan casino.
Check out the Ordnance Museum Sunday,
Then over Lucky Boy Pass,
Note the road to Walker River hot springs,
Cross a bridge under yellow trees,
With a half moon watching from the sky.
Climb into the mountains past ghost town Pine Grove,
A springy pine treeling shoves me into the road,
As I try to push by it,
My knee crackles on the way down,
But no serious damage done.
The road rut grows wider,
The road sides more sloped,
We can only power up the rocks in the middle,
100' from Lobdell Summit Jack's clutch stops working,
A Jeep tows him the rest of the way.
We wait for the clutch to cool,
Finally limp our way to the asphalt,
To the nearest town: Wellington, NV,
Brian continues home,
While I wait at CG Bar.
John drives from San Francisco,
To pick me and Jack up,
Arriving at 11:30pm as Elizabeth finishes cleaning,
We drop Jack off in front of Tokyo Moto,
And head home around 5am.
arty
