There’s no gravel … it’s all paved

On Sunday (March 16), we were up and ready to ride into the desert again, in search of the perfect photo.  We’d had such a great day before riding around on great roads and seeing wonderful things.  I had no idea the desert could be so nice for riding … usually when I’m riding in these places the temperatures are triple digits plus, and you just want to get through it to another place where it’s a few degrees cooler.

The road is a great place to be.

We planned to go to Salt Creek to see the little pup fish.  There are multiple species and sub-species and they jump from one pond to another when the water is low.  Besides, the roads are all paved … I asked because I’d seen some gravel ones and really didn’t want to go on them.  Some of them had some pretty big rocks in amongst the gravel.

The road beckoned and we got on it.  When we got to the Salt Creek turn off, it was gravel.  Did I want to?  Sure.  It’s only a mile-and-a-half.  No problem.  When we got to the gravel parking lot, we parked and walked in on the boardwalk.  There were some beautiful variations of color on the hills and rocks so we did some shooting in Monochrome, which made them look really cool.  However, the pupfish were not cooperative and would not jump.  Oh well.

 

Salt Creek.

Wonderful shading and shadows.

We rode out and then on to Scotty’s Castle.  As it turned out, there was construction and some gravel.  What’s going on?  BUT … there was only a little gravel on the side going in.  A short segment and we were on the one side that was paved for several miles going in.  That’s because we’re pure of heart mostly.

An absolutely spectacular vacation home.

Death Valle Scotty was apparently an entertainer, performing with other cowboys in Buffalo Bill’s Wild West.  He did other things, including telling exaggerated tales of how he made his fortune.

Scotty’s biggest tall tale was about gold, and how he’d found riches in Death Valley.  A gold mine … but he needed investors.  Yep, sounds like a con man at work.  But as all con men do, he got some folks to invest.  One of those was a Chicago businessman, Albert Johnson, who wanted to inspect the “mine.”  Scotty staged a gunfight to scare the guy away but still hopefully keep the money rolling in. 

I don't know what this door went to, but if you closed both of them it was like being in a little above-the-ground dungeon.

The plan backfired and Johnson realized there was never a mine.  But rather than being angry he became friends with Scotty and remained his source of gold.  Plus, the dry climate was good for Johnson’s health problems and he enjoyed the wild-west style o  f the desert.  After years of camping expeditions, Johnson and his wife began to build a grand vacation home in 1922.

The clock tower has clocks all around ... and they're ticking and tocking the correct time.

The Castle is built in one of the harshest deserts in the world as Death Valley only averages 2 inches of rain per year.  Yet Grapevine Canyon (where the Castle is located) has a natural spring pouring out more than 200 gallons of water per minute.  The spring provided drinking water and Johnson piped it into man-made streams and planted trees and shrubs, fed a huge swimming pool and used it for hydropower to provide electricity and refrigeration. 

Scotty was the caretaker of the Castle and after his death he was buried on a hill above so he could look down on his Castle forever in the afterlife.

High on a hill.  It was quite the hike, too.

The Castle area is quite beautiful, and you can only imagine what life there would have been like … protected, isolated, beautiful, privileged.

And then it was time to move along once again … this time the road was mostly gravel on the construction stretch as you didn’t dare ride the pavement all the way through the turns and curves.  Yeah, sure, no gravel.

We decided to overnight in Boulder City, Nevada, and found the place Jaz had stayed when she was last through here.  But … again, the Internet did not work. 

Yuma, Arizona, was in our sights as we decided to get there and head east in the morning to get over to meet up with friend Henke.  We arrived and went to the Harley shop, which is no longer Jim’s.  It’s now Bobby’s Territorial Harley-Davidson.  When we got there we had a tire check.  Whoops.  I had gone below the 2 which is the number used for tire replacement and Jaz only had 400-600 miles left.  So, could they change tires?  Nope.  They were backed up for two weeks.  Travelers have to take a number. 

So we got a room and decided to check our options.  Arrowhead, near Phoenix and where I’ve had a lot of other things done, could take us both, 185 miles away.  So, I called Henke and told him our slight deviation in plans (still planning to meet up with him on Wednesday).  The good news was that we could blog and post.

And there was still a Princess chocolate for Jaz’s pillow.

Last one is now gone.  Need to go on another cruise to get pillow chocolates.