Ash Meadows NWR protects a cluster of clear warm springs that bubble up in the desert.  Amazingly, geologists have determined that what appears here is actually ancient snow melt off Mt. Charleston and the other Spring Mountains.  The water moves this 80 miles or so through porous underground layers of rock.  When the flow collides with less porous upturned mountains it is forced to the surface as springs creating crystal clear pools surrounded by lush oasis in the desert.  The largest spring on the refuge, Crystal Spring, flows 2800 gallons per minute.  Geology of this basin and range area is amazing. 

In these springs live tiny fish, pupfish.  The populations have been separated for thousands of years and are now unique genetic species, all of which are critically endangered as ground water levels drop with drought and pressures from human water consumption.  They are not exactly the charismatic megafauna like elk, bear and wolves that we flock to see at our national parks but still a marvel of nature’s evolutionary flexibility. 

Boardwalks let us get close to the springs.  We get a good look at pupfish at Point of Rocks and not bad at Crystal Springs.  Devils Hole Spring is actually an extension of Death Valley National Park and the most famous of the springs in the refuge but fences and protections are so restrictive that it is impossible to see the fish.  Birds are drawn to feed on the insects and seeds found in the oasis.  This is a great place for a stroll. 

A word of caution, refuge roads are nominally graded dirt/not gravel.  A number of them are closed today after a moderate rain and the poor Focus is pretty messy after today’s outing.    

A band of 4 beautiful wild horses make an appearance along North Shore Road as we head on our way.  It was a nice send off.   Next stop, Spring Mountains NRA/Mt. Charleston (we are actually staying in Vegas – night time lows on the mountain are in the 30s!).

I jumped awake in the wee hours of the morning.  It took a moment to recognize the racket that startled me.  A wild burro standing what seemed like just feet from my window had let out a heart-felt hee-haw including the signature gasping.  I never saw him but heard his footsteps as he wandered on his way.  As further proof that it was not a dream, this morning we find two fresh piles; one just two sites from us.  The burros had been in and near camp last time we stayed here so we have been watching for them every evening since we arrived.  While his entrance last night was startling, it was kind of nice that at least one made a showing in camp.

St. Thomas is reappearing.  The little burg was abandoned and inundated to a depth of 25 feet when Lake Mead filled in the 30’s.  Over time the lake level has dropped and a ghost town of ruins has appeared.  A loop trail with well done signage winds through the old town site.  It is a great history lesson of early settlement along the trails West and the impact of Uncle Sam through infrastructure projects.

New sighting: this little fellow looks to have eaten recently and is just hanging out near the old school.  A picture in the visitor center identifies it as a glossy desert snake, harmless.

We had to visit the town of Overton while we were up that way.  Their troubles began as the lake level dropped taking with it the tourists and marina traffic it had brought to them.  Today it is a sleepy little place with a pretty good ice cream parlor, The Inside Scoop (we found it the last time we were in the area and tried out again today – Huckleberry Blue Bunny), a couple well stocked hardware stores, and a decent grocery.  We did our part to support the local economy; we restocked our frig and picked up a few things at the hardware store to support the ever-present maintenance projects.        

In the narrow lake area further south, lower water level left us with a bathtub ring on the cliffs high above our heads.   Up on this end, the valley that is now Lake Mead gets broad and the river cuts are much shallower so at the lower water level the pool is surrounded by miles of flat shore land streaked with green and dotted with marshes where the Virgin and Muddy rivers flow in.  It Is amazing how far the water receded.  Overton Beach, the Overton Marina and the town are all miles from water now.  In the quiet shallows (35-50 ft instead 150 ft deep and more) a flock of 100s of western grebes float and chatter and dip their heads in a graceful courtship dance.  White pelicans patrol the river inlet. 

Fishing is slow, only 2 bass and I didn’t even get mine into the boat.  Only two burros today too but they made up for small numbers in volume of their braying!  We are off the lake by noon.  The wind builds to the strongest yet.  Not a problem from camp but we are glad to be off the lake.

A solo loon, we rarely see them this far south.  His call was a pretty lonely sounding chirp not the locating warble call I love.  Cattle, who would have thought they would let them graze right up to the water’s edge of a potable water reservoir?  I guess it is no worse than the burros…. we saw probably 30 of them today and they all come to the lake for water.  They hide in the shadow at the base of a cliff in the heat of the day.  Smart fellows.  Oh yeah, we caught 8 fish today and enjoyed a long cool dip in the lake.

Lower lake levels have affected this access point too, of course. It is a long gravel road from camp to the launch ramp that winds past the old ramp and the original marina area.  It is all abandoned now high above the current water level.  They have installed a decent lower water ramp here and we have all the provisions and fuel that we need so it is working out just fine for us.

Day 1: we catch 6 fish trolling in bays just across the lake from camp – Kent 4, Lynn 2.  It is a bit choppy so we don’t run very far.  Wild burros provide some entertainment as they race across the rolling shoreline then settle in to quietly munch on whatever they can find.

Day 2:  No matter how early we get up it seems we can’t get on the water before 8 AM.  That still gives us plenty of time before the blazing SW sun runs us back to the shade.  We try a couple different bays but fishing is really slow – especially for me.  I catch nothing today.  Kent does a little better catching 2.  It is still and the lake glass-calm.  It is perfect for exploring cathedral cove, a steep walled bay, and for watching a huge flock of Western Grebes floating and chatting among themselves.  We take a lap on the open lake to cool off and enjoy the scenery.  First, we have to check out the raucous burros.  They are claiming territory or something and making quite the fuss.  We spot a band of 8 and a number of scattered individuals along the east shore across from camp.  I think these are the guys I have been hearing in the evenings.  As always, fun to watch.

 I saw a black tailed jackrabbit this morning…speedy fellow.

It is just across the lake but it is a 100 mile drive to Echo Bay; pas the dam, skirt Boulder City, then up the west shoreline.  The climb up from Temple Basin takes us across at least three places where yesterday’s rain filled washes to the point of carrying debris across the road.  The water has gone down but sand and gravel are evidence of the mini flashfloods.  No problem getting through, just a reminder of the effects of even a moderate storm. 

North Shore drive takes us across row after row of gray and green mountains.  In gashes cut by washes or other areas of heavy erosion the red-rock under layers are exposed like wounds in the hillsides.  It is amazing terrain.  Travels go well and we are settled in by lunch time and spend the rest of the day relaxing and exploring a bit.  It is windy again so we save our first foray out onto this part of the lake for tomorrow.