Returning to the preserve, we were impressed by the large clusters of blooming phacelia among a very green (for a desert) landscape. By mid-morning, we reached our usual dispersed camping spot, which was blissfully unoccupied. After setting up camp, we hiked into the wash below the campsite and were again awestruck by the extent of blooming phacelia. The goldenbush on the hillside was also in full bloom.
Small blossoms of woolly sunflower, cryothantha, rattlesnake weed, and woolly daisy sprinkled color over the desert gravel. At the springs near the old mine, yellow monkeyflower bloomed over the small pools of water. Clusters of bluebells colored the hillside. In the seep below Cottonwood Springs, a few red-spotted toadpoles squiggled in the shallows. The cottonwoods at the spring looked a little worse for wear. This year's rain did little to reverse the overall damage climate change has had on this little spring. Only a Lazuli Bunting and Black-throated Sparrows sang nearby. The trees surrounding the springs were pretty quiet.
After returning to camp, we spent the evening wandering along the road, taking in the views, and attempting to capture it with our cameras. The night cooled to quiet peaceful solitude, except for the chirping crickets and the occasional Common Poorwill or Great Horned Owl call.
In the morning, we returned to Cottonwood Springs where bird life was a little more lively. Townsend's and Orange-crowned Warblers gleaned the juniper. A Scott’s oriole and Lazuli Bunting sang from the tree tops. Warblers and sparrows came down to the pools below the junipers for a quick bath. While enjoying the sights and sounds of the spring, we heard a distinctive call of a hawk. The Merlin app identified it as a Zone-tailed Hawk, which is rare for the area. Years ago, we spotted one in pretty much the same place. Now, I kept scanning the warming skies for the Turkey Vulture-like flight. I spotted the Zone-tailed Hawk drifting up on the rising thermals along with the vultures. It was nice to see the hawk in the area again.
Mid-morning, we followed the old jeep trail, which eventually went to a mine atop one of the peaks in the Granite Mountains. We climbed up into a small canyon where the walls were covered in prickly cholla and ultra-violet bluebells. Hermit Thrush, Lazuli Bunting, Juniper Titmouse, and Dusky Flycatcher were sang and fluttered among the canyon oak and junipers. We paused on a large boulder to enjoy the sights before we hiked back down to the large spring off the trail. The spring had once been easily accessible from the trail, but the desert scrub had grown in considerably. We had to zigzag our way through prickly cholla, blackbrush and catsclaws to reach the springs.
At the springs, water trickled down the granite rocks and flowed through algae dense pools, which teemed with toadpoles and eggs. A pair of Red-spotted Toads were coupled and in search of the right pool to spawn. The male clung to her back as she hopped up and down the series of pools. She ended up spawning in a crack of a pool. As soon as they were finished, the male hopped off, retreated into the dense grass, and gave a few trilled calls to await the next female.
After cleaning up and eating dinner back at camp, we walked along the road at dusk. The sound of crickets and the occasional hoot from the Great Horned Owl filled the desert air for another quiet night under the waxing moon. The stars began to twinkle down on us. Later in the night, the Milky Way stretched across the sky in an impressive display. Despite being so close to the Vegas light pollution, it was the best showing of the night sky and the Milky Way that I'd seen so far on this trip.
We set out for Coyote Springs to the north in the morning. We dropped down into the wash again and followed it through narrow rain-worn rock walls and wide open deep gravel. A large honeybee colony gathered on the trunk of a mesquite, perhaps on the move to a new hive. Black-throated Sparrows, Blue-gray Gnatcatchers, and House Finches chattered at us from yucca and catsclaws. The wash eventually dropped us back on the road and in creosote. A few dense patches of desert dandelion bloomed along the creosote. The springs we visited had little to no water, which was surprising given the year it had been. Still the canyons were busy with birdlife: Black-tailed Gnatcatcher, Gray Flycatcher, Lesser Goldfinch, and Rock Wrens.
The preserve cleaned up Coyote Springs and the canyon by blocking access at the main road. The campsite that was normally denuded of vegetation due to human and car activity was now free of litter (and shotgun shells) and plants were starting to get reestablished. The day grew hotter, but hiked up the old jeep trail to (you guessed it) another mine. On the hillside, phelicia, suncups, pincushion, mariposa lily, and aster were in bloom. Down the valley, we could see Kelso Dunes in the distance. After visiting the old tunnel mine that we had seen years ago, we turned back down the trial toward camp.
The heat of a desert day can really change your perspective of a place. The creosote bushes become incredibly monotonous and exhausting. With almost no breeze to help fight off the heat, hiking up the smallest incline can seem challenging. Without the sounds of birds or even a scuttle of a lizard across the path, a four mile hike somehow seems like it would take eons. A strenuous walk through a desert can make you ponder hard about your own mortality.
Back at camp we were able to recharge and prepare for our next day's journey back to civilization and home. We spent our final evening basking in the beauty and solitude of the Mojave desert.
On our final morning, we stopped at the Kelso Dunes. Birdcage primroses were still open from their evening blooming and the desert dandelions were just beginning to open to the desert sun. Desert marigolds, pincushions, and the impressive desert lily were in full bloom in the soft sand. Just as we were getting ready to finally leave for the airport, Tor found a sidewinder tucked into the sand overnight. From the patterns in the sand, it looked like it had caught and eaten a lizard, then fully from its meal wound up in a tight coil for the night. Seeing the sidewinder in its perfectly content pose was a wonderful way to end our trip.
