Skirting High Rock, or Peregrination into the Desert

A few years ago with some time on my hands Coco and I loaded the Honda with the Surly and my camping gear and headed north. I wound my way out through the subdivisions and ended up coming out on Pyramid Lake highway, down through Nixon and out to the Pyramid. (I just learned that the Pyramid is now entirely closed. I can definitely understand, but it's painful to hear.) A night sleeping on the beach in the bosom of the Stone Mother and shadow of the Pyramid. Next morning headed north farther, through Gerlach and north toward the Sheldon and High Rock Canyon areas.

The Honda only made it as far as High Rock Canyon Road and then it was Coco and I on the Surly headed out across a spectacular afternoon. Looked down into High Rock Camped just above Denio Camp to an almost cliche western sky and up the next morning exploring Denio Camp and the Little High Rock Canyon. Although I didn't really know much about it at the time, this is the heart of Shoshone Mike country, and now it fascinates me to remember the decaying camp and think of the three men, two successful ranchers looking for lost stock, and one poor employee who knew that nothing good would come of this encounter, standing here waiting out the bitter cold until there was enough light to continue their search. Events set in motion that ended hundreds of miles away (near Thunder Mountain and Imlay) with a little girl, her family gunned down, pinned down by a posse while she continued to fight for her clan. Who I think of, though, is the woman in the little cabin at Denio Camp, on a freezing night, watching powerful men leave into the cold who would never return.

Coco at start of High Rock Road

Exploring Denio Camp

Pyramid in last light

Stone Mother in the morning

Her domain

Lazing at camp

Good-bye Honda (and your back window and my stuff)

Hello adventure

On the county road headed back toward the Honda I saw a shirt on the side of the road. My shirt. Oops, growing dread as I found a couple of books and then reached the Honda, it's window rudely smashed and my things gone. Oh things, it seemed terrible then, but now they are just things and this memory remains untouched (except for the lesson to park farther off the main road or out of plain sight).