The Center of Desert Life: Upper Centennial Springs at the Coso Range Wilderness

Scenery by the Upper Centennial Springs

 

Date: December 19, 2020
Place: Coso Range Wilderness, Olancha, California
Coordinates: 36.244812, -117.767841
Length: 4.5 miles
Level: easy 

 

The night following my first day at the Coso Range Wilderness was one of the coldest I've experienced on any trip. To accommodate the water I needed to carry on my desert backpacking  trip I had to leave my second sleeping bag behind. I slept fully clothed, cocooned inside my single, mummy low temp sleeping bag, with my winter coat draped over the bump of my hips. It was warm enough inside my little cocoon but it was also very tight and quite uncomfortable. At no point I was in any risk of hypothermia, but I didn't sleep well at all that night. 

Another difficulty associated with winter camping is that the nights are extra long, and when the night is also extra cold that means staying inside the warm cocoon for many long hours, daring not getting out until the bladder forces you. As it was, I laid in my tent for 13 hours long and when I finally got out the sun still hasn't cleared the horizon. Because the wash I was sleeping had a south to north direction, the sun didn't show itself until 9:30 am.

My morning routine that day took me over an hour during which I was more cold than the entire night before. As soon as the sun was up however, everything suddenly warmed up and I thawed in no time. 

Sunrise at Centennial Creek

I should have lit a campfire to help me through the prolonged morning chill but I kept expecting for the sun to pop out over the ridge. So I only had my wood stove on and I huddled over it while I was preparing my breakfast and eating it. I kept it burning for some time after that until I felt compelled to get up and do something useful, like breaking camp. 

By the time the sun finally showed its face I could not feel my toes anymore. Thankfully they didn't take to long to thaw. 

(Just as an indication on how cold that night was, the water bottle I had inside my tent contained slushy ice in the morning). 

The first thing on my agenda after breaking camp was to go upstream to the Upper Centennial Springs. I debated with myself whether to take my backpack with me or leave it behind and come back for it later. Basically, the decision to be made was whether to stay out one more night or return to the Lower Centennial Springs and cam by my car. To stay another night would be acceptable if the Upper Centennial Springs were flowing, and I had yet to verify that. Also, there was the respect of passing another night hankering down for the long, intensely cold night. 

Eventually I decided to leave my backpack sort of hidden behind a large rock and armed with only one water bottle and my camera I headed up the wash toward the Upper Springs. 

My hike up and down Centennial Wash

My inside debate didn't last long. I answered myself that I really wouldn't enjoy another long, sleepless night, deciding to have it easy this day and go back to camp by my car where I had my additional sleeping bag and plenty of water. I looked downstream at the now fully sunlit wash, then, not laden with my backpack, I took off upstream.

Centennial Wash, view downstream

Going upstream I had to first scramble up some boulders that blocked the easy gravel path of the wash bed. I was glad not to have carried by heavy pack along.

Centennial Wash, upstream view

A few small trees were growing in the wash, most of them junipers and pinion pines. The Joshua trees were mostly higher on the slopes. Sometimes I needed to scramble around the talus on the slope so I got closer to the Joshua trees.

Joshua

The first indication that I was getting near the springs was the band of willow bushes, all bare of leaves for the winter. Where there are willows, there is water. 

When I found the water I saw it was in a very solid state: completely iced over. The entire area of the springs was overrun by burro activity: hoof marks everywhere, dry burro bones scattered under the willows, and lots and lots of feces, some very recently dropped. All the water holes looked very soiled. With that impression, I was glad I decided not to rely on the Upper Centennial Springs as a water source. Even with filtering and boiling, I admit I'd have difficulty drinking it. In a survival situation, sure I would, but I had plenty of clean drinking water with me for the day, and so my filter remained unused. 

Upper Centennial Springs

I continued upstream, slowly following the strip of willows, hoping to see burros. I saw more water holes, dug out likely by burro hooves. All of these were very dirty, and all of them were solid ice.

A small band of junco birds were chirping in the willow branches and nearby on the ground, no doubt waiting for the water to thaw.

Dark-eyed Junco

 

Off to the side I noticed the remains of a human-made structure. Inside the ruins was a single rusty folding chair. The structure was surrounded by wire and dry scrub. I didn't feel compelled to go inside for any further exploration.

Old Homestead Ruins

Further south I saw more evidence of recent past human activity in the form of fences and enclosures. Beyond them - a vast field of Joshua trees. It looked as if I reached the top of Centennial Basin. Not too far south was the military bombing practice area of the China Air Base. In fact, I could hear gunshots ringing in the air every now and then. I assumed the gunshots were at the military zone, although they didn't sound anything like aircraft bombing practices. I didn't know what else that military zone was used for.

To the east the big basalt wall of the wash was much lower now and I could see well the nice semi-pillar shape of the rocks. I followed the eastward curve of a small tributary, estimated that I'd have no problems getting across to the wash on the other side, but decided to get back to the main springs area.

I crossed the main wash to get to the west side and on the way I came upon a human-built well that had a pump installed with a battery and a broken and very dirty solar panel. The well itself was cemented and covered with a heavy metal lid with a steel bar inserted through the lid loop for leverage. I tried lifting the lid but it was too heavy for me, even with the steel bar.

Springs Pump

No Jacob showed up to uncover the well for me and I didn't try tinkering with the pump to see if I could get it to work. Instead I turned back north and followed the willows back to the main water hole of the springs.

When I reached the water hole I saw that a thin strip of water thawed at the edges. A thirsty crowd of little gray birds that weren't juncos flocked by the slightly thawed water hole. They flew to the willows when I approached and chirped loudly at me. I sat down quietly on the sand at a respectful distance from the water and prepared my camera and in a short time the birds were back by the water, drinking, bathing and interacting with one another. They were sparrows all right, but not of a species I was familiar with. Only at home when I enlarged my photographs on the computer screen did I get an ID from my family birders.

Sagebrush Sparrows

I was sitting quietly by the springs water hole, knowing that eventually I'll get up and walk downstream again to fetch my backpack and continue down to the Lower Centennial Springs. All of a sudden I noticed movement of a large creature in the willows. Initially I thought that might be a burro but to my surprise a tall man stepped from behind the willows. He was carrying a rifle and was accompanied by a very excited dog. I waved at him as he looked in my direction and he introduced himself as a chukar hunter and said that his brothers were in the area as well looking to shoot these birds. (Chukar is an introduced bird species, brought to the U.S. from the Middle East to be a game bird here, and has spread in the southwest deserts at the expense of the native sage grouse). 

The chukar hunter asked if I had seen the petroglyphs. I knew there were lots of petroglyphs within the military zone but I didn't see any here. He told me that there were some in this area and offered to show my where the nearest one, that of a bighorn sheep, was. Keeping safe distance, I followed him to a large rock behind the old homestead where the petroglyph was.

Petroglyph of a bighorn sheep

The petroglyps in this area date about 10,000 ago. It was pretty exciting to see a human message from so long a past. 

The hunter pointed me in the direction (a bit more south) where another petroglyph rock was. I thanked him and went there while he went on to search for more chukar.

The other rock had its flat side entirely covered with petroglyphs, but these were more faded. The main theme was still the bighorn sheep.

Petroglyph rock

As I made my way slowly along the wash I scared off a flock of quail that darted quickly up the opposite slope. I admit that at first I thought they were chukar, they were far and they vanished all to quickly in the scrub. I did get some blurry far away images. When enlarged at home they revealed the covey to be mountain quail.

Mountain Quail

I turned back north and this time walked down at the wash bed, hoping to see more wildlife by the water holes, but all I could see were more juncos and sparrows and nothing else. Every now and then I heard the report of a hunting rifle and wondered if that might had an effect on the wildlife scarcity. 

Centennial Wash

This time around I didn't stop by the larger water holes where I saw the sagebrush sparrows. I was already an hour later than the time I wanted to get back to my backpack and my stomach reminded me that it was past lunchtime. Still, I couldn't pass the old and venerable Joshua tree that stood guard just away from the willows and junipers near the springs.

Joshua Tree, Yucca brevifolia

It didn't take much to get from the upper Centennial Springs to where I had camped the night before and where I had left my backpack. Not that I was worried, but I was glad to see than my pack was exactly in the same position I had left it. I sat down and had my lunch.

Centennial Wash

From that spot it was just a matter of walking down the wash. This time with my heavy backpack on. On a quick pace it would have been less than an hour to get to the lower springs, but I was taking it really slowly, stretching my alone time in that gorgeous desert, enjoying every minute of it.

Single-leaf Pinion, Pinus monophylla

Although the small Centennial Wash cannot support a rich riparian vegetation except in the springs areas, there were still trees to be found, here and there a juniper, or a pinion pine. I was glad to see they all looked healthy and thriving. On a hot day I would have appreciated the shade. On my winter hike there however, I cherished the sunshine and refrained from sitting in the shade.

Utah Juniper, Juniperus osteosperma

 

Centennial Wash streams (when it does) to the north. As I was making my progress downhill the canyon sides got higher and higher. Eventually I got to a point where the sun hid behind the ridge. The time was only slightly past 2 pm but it was clear that the day would come to an end really quickly from then on. I was amazed at how cold it turned the moment I was out of the direct sunshine.

I was glad to get out of the shady spot. Increasing my gate I did my best to stay ahead of the shade line from then on.

Centennial Wash doesn't curve much but every now and then it would and then the view from its opening onto the next mountain range to the north.

Tearing my gaze from the horizon I brought my eyes back down to appreciate the near beauty of the still attached seeds of a desert shrub, waiting patiently for the flashfloods to wash them away, meanwhile casting neat silhouettes on the rock below.

Other close by beauties were the wash rocks, smooth but not rounded enough to be called pebbles. I found one with a lovely green hue, different from all other rocks around it. I wish I knew more geology and could tell more about that rock.

The lengthening shadows were chasing me quicker now, and I quickened my pace in response. For the most part, the walk in the creek was easy, although I kept sinking deep in the creek bed gravel. Every now and then the creek would drop through a talus section where I'd have to carefully climb down between the boulders. At one of these places I had to lower my backpack first, then let my body drop after it. 

To my great surprise I saw a pair of hikers climbing up the rocks on their way upstream. I didn't expect to see anyone else that entire trip and today I've seen the hunter and now those hikers. We waved each other and moved on, on opposite directions.

Centennial Wash

The pinion trees fascinated me. It is the only pine species I know that has only a single needle growing out of each point. I plucked one of the needles out and chewed it, enjoying the gentle fragrance and sweet, citrusy taste.

Single-leaf Pinion, Pinus monophylla 

I didn't try any of the juniper berries that the local junipers were laden with. Some of these junipers had interesting and captivating shapes, almost like personalities.

Juniper, Juniperus sp.

There was plenty of interesting geology about. Not just the basalt on the eastern side but also fascinating rock formations on the west slope and in the creek bed itself.

A diked boulder resting in the middle of the wash

Another sight that captivated me was shapes of the the basalt scree on the slopes. They looked like shadows of aliens or monsters. I enjoyed imagining figures stuck on the mountain side.

Eventually the late afternoon shade caught up with me and I had to put on my sweater. Shortly after that I reached the Lower Centennial Springs and the leaf-turning poplars huddles around the tiny mud hole I've seen there on the evening of my arrival.

Lower Centennial Springs

When I reached my car I decided to move my camp a bit further down to the plateau north of the mountains. I was hoping to have an earlier sunrise this way .

That evening I debated with myself once more. Should I drive back home tomorrow or stay in the desert one more day? And if I stay, where at? 

The wind picked up and blew embers out of my campfire. I got concerned about the possibility of my fire jumping off to the dry vegetation nearby and soon I quenched my fire. The temperature plummeted quickly and the wind added a nippy chill. I didn't stay much longer outside to enjoy the truly beautiful starry skies. I quickly packed everything inside the car, brushed my teeth, and crawled inside my tent for another night in the desert. This time however, I did have the double sleeping bag, and I slept warm and comfortable. 

Sunset at the Coso Range Wilderness

As I thought, the sun cleared the horizon earlier than inside the Centennial Wash. As soon as it was out, so was I. Calm and happy I packed my tent and decided to get back home. I got what I came to the desert to find - some well needed time to myself, all by myself. 

As I reached SR 190  and turned west I saw the high peaks f the Sierra Nevada, and the glorious Mt. Whitney ahead. A great sight to take home at the end of a lovely trip.

Mount Whitney View

I love the desert.

Into the Desert: Self-Isolation at the Coso Range Wilderness

Joshua Trees, Yucca brevifolia 

Date: December 18, 2020
Place: Coso Range Wilderness, Olancha, California
Coordinates: 36.266897, -117.766855
Length: 3.2 miles 
Level: moderate

 

The rise in COVID-19 cases resulted in a state-wide closure of hotels and campgrounds. Even backcountry camping is forbidden in many places, including Death Valley National Park, which was the planned destination for my family's winter vacation. When my plans crumbled my patience snapped. After nearly a year of no time alone at all I was becoming knot of anxiety and despair. I mad a half concocted plan to take my daughters backpacking in the desert (Pappa Quail had to stay and work) , but soon realized that this would make the three of us miserable. So when Pappa Quail told me I should go on my own I jumped on the idea whole heartedly. 

The California desert is big and wide. Even with Death Valley NP off limits, there was still plenty of open desert area to get lost in all by myself. My choice for this hermit experience was the Coso Range Wilderness. 

It took me over 7 hours of nearly continuous drive to get there, with the final access road to the Lower Centennial Springs camp area and trailhead being 7 miles of rough dirt road demanding a very slow drive. At the end of the road I found a nice campsite where I settled for the night. Having still some daylight left I wandered around a bit to explore the surroundings. 

Silver Cholla, Cylindropuntia echinocarpa 

The first thing I looked for were the springs. I didn't need spring water right then and there because I had brought with me a large container with plenty of water. I wanted to know however, if the springs were flowing to get an idea of how much water to take with me should I decide to go backpacking. I went up the creek a bit directly to where I expected to find the spring - a small grove of poplar trees and willows. The creek bed was bone dry and the vegetation around looked very miserable. I wasn't very hopeful but I went into the grove anyway. There I found a small hole that was covered with wet leaves. I looked down into the hole and found brown water below the cover of leaves. That was all. Disappointed, I climbed back up and out of the creek, glad I wasn't in a survival situation when I would have to drink this water. 

Over the creek was a small cabin. At first I thought it was a relic from an old settlement site, and perhaps it originally was. But the cabin can actually be used by anyone who gets stuck there without proper accommodations: it has some wooden sleep benches, a fire pit , and some emergency equipment. It was also very dusty and it was quite obvious that no one had taken advantage of this wilderness hospitality in a very long time. 

The Cabin at Lower Centennial Springs

Neither did I. I returned to my campsite and lit a very necessary campfire because as soon as the sun went down, the temperature plummeted. I cooked dinner and sat to eat, watching the last daylight kissing the mountains goodnight and fading into darkness. One by one the stars popped out and before long I was sitting under the most magnificent canopy of night sky I have seen in a very long time. 

I kept feeding the fire, holding out until 7 pm. Then I finally put my campfire out and crawled into my tent, checking in for the night. 

Sunset at the Lower Centennial Springs

 

It was a very long and very cold night. Temperature was fine inside my tent and my double sleeping bag, but outside the temperature dropped below freezing point. By daybreak it was so cold outside the tent that I didn't feel like getting out until the sun actually cleared the mountain ridge, at about 8:30 am, making it officially the longest night I've ever hunkered down. Once the sun was out however, the temperature rose quickly and soon became quite pleasant. 

Now I was facing a dilemma. I wanted to go backpacking but I didn't trust that I would find any water at the Upper Centennial Springs. I also knew that the nights would be very, very cold. Basically I needed to limit my winter gear for water. Having grown up in a desert environment I leaned toward carrying more water. 

I took it slow and easy and it was almost noon when I finally set out carrying over a gallon of water and a full set of winter clothes in my backpack, but I did leave the second sleeping bag behind. 

My hike as captured by my GPS

I started up the creek west of Centennial Creek. My pack was very heavy and the desert silence lulled my mind into a daydreaming state. There was no wildlife activity anywhere, not even birds. There was plenty of gorgeous desert plants, however. Most attractive of all - Joshua trees. 

Joshua Trees, Yucca brevifolia 

There was no established trail there so I simply followed the path of least resistance, hiking up the creek bed. Hiking on gravel, especially while carrying heavy weight, can be very tedious. 

Soon however, I encountered rocky areas that provided more solid footholds. They did present other challenges too though, as I often needed to figure out the best climbing route up and around large boulder aggregations. 

I wasn't deluding myself that I would find any wildflowers at this time of year, especially since the Coso Range hasn't seen any precipitation in a very long time. Still, the dry remains of last year's bloom were a pretty cool sight. Everlasting floral shapes mummified by the desert air. 

These of course, were not merely leftover flower bits, but the actual fruit and seeds, not yet dispersed. 

Hopsage, Grayia spinosa 

This wash wasn't exactly a canyon with high side walls but the slopes on the sides did seem to get taller and steeper as I progressed up'stream'. 

Further in, my path narrowed even more. Besides having to negotiate rocky steps I also had to push my way between and around the shrubbery, much of which was prickly. Surprisingly, there were very few cacti there.  

At some point I turned around and looked back, surprised to see how high I ascended over the flats below. I hardly noticed the climb because of the mild slope of the wash itself. 

View northeast 

As the slopes got steeper and the sun got lower I got more often in the shade of the southern ridge. Each time the sun disappeared behind the ridgeline the temperature had dropped a few very significant degrees. As long as I was under the direct sunlight I was comfortable, but one step into the shaded areas and I had to wrap myself in my sweater and pull down my winter hat's ear flaps. 

I found a lupine bush, recognizable by the shape of its leaves only. It was so shriveled and damaged by the drought that I wondered how long it would survive and when will the rain come to save it. I knew for a fact that won't be that night I had planned to stay there.

Many of the creeck bed rocks were beautifully decorated by orange circles of lichen - a hardy, symbiotic organism comprises of mutualistic species of an alga and a fungus. 

Lichen

While Joshua trees are the signature trees of the Mojave desert, there were a couple of other prominent tree species in the area, pne of which was the Utah juniper, a species common to the deep California desert. 

Utah Juniper, Juniperus 

The side wash I was hiking up on begins inside a military zone that's off limits to the general public, i.e. me. This military zone is used for aircraft bombing practices, and I really didn't want to accidentally enter it, so I kept checking my map to se when I should be turning to climb the eastern slope to get over to the Centennial Creek. When I came upon a human-made trench across the creek past which the path seemed to be efficiently blocked by boulders I thought this was a sign I should better start across at that place. 

I though I could see a faint trail meandering up the eastern slope. Without stopping to think it over, I heaved my backpack on my shoulders and started very slowly uphill. 

My slow uphill progression gave me plenty of time to appreciate the pretty desert colors of early winter. The evergreens mixed with the grays and rusty reds and pinks, interspaced with the grainy talus rocks suspended in their slow motion mid-sliding way to the bottom of the creek. 

The map I had was too large scaled to be good for fine navigation. It was very useful to have a modern GPS navigator on my hand. Easily spotting the most prominent feature in the area, I made my way toward it, circumventing that butte from the north. 

Joshua trees are most interesting plants. They belong to the Yucca genus and branch only at their blooming apices. The more branched a Joshua tree is, the more blooms it had. In the photo below - a baby Joshua that hadn't bloomed yet, and a toddler Joshua that had bloomed once. 

Joshua Trees, Yucca brevifolia 

Uo at the top of the butte was a cavity and inside was something that looked like a perched bird. I couldn't really tell what it was because the sun was in my eyes. I went up slope and around until the sun was hidden behind the butte's summit and took a photo. I was somewhat disappointed that upon enlarging the photo I saw that that 'bird' was just another rock. 

The first gully I've came upon at the top of the ridge was leading back to the wash I came up on so I meandered eastward on top of the ridge, searching for a way down to the Centennial Wash.

It's a good thing I found a pointer in the right direction ....

There seemed to be quite a lot of trees on top of the ridge. A real forest, in desert terms. Some of the most magnificent Joshua trees I've seen on that trip were right there, between those two washes. 

Joshua Trees, Yucca brevifolia 

The other trees were the Utah Junipers and the single-leaf pinions. I was excited to see so many pinion trees and I had hopes of seeing the pinion jay which had eluded my family birders for many years. I didn't get lucky with the jays but I was very happy to see how many pinions were growing on that area of the Coso Wilderness, all of them looked very healthy. 

Single-leaf Pinion, Pinus monophylla 

I didn't see any jays on this trip.  In fact, on my first day there I didn't see any bird. It was eerily quiet the entire time. I did encounter one evidence of a very specific type of bird, however. It was a half broken owl pellet. Owls swallow their prey whole and regurgitate all what isn't digestible - fur and bones - as a pellet. It s much fun to find such pellets and dissolve them in water, pulling the tiny rodent bones one by one and reconstructing a skeleton. I know of at east one species of rodent that was identified as a separate species based only on bones found in owl pellets. No live specimen was ever captured or seen. 

Owl Pellet

Eventually I found Centennial Wash, the one I needed to go down to. The eastern bank of this wash is a high wall of broken basalt. It supported very little vegetation and looked quite impressive, deep dark against the lighter desert background, like a fresh cut in the Earth. 

Looking down on Centennial Wash

I found a way down the western slope of Centennial Wash. As soon as I cleared the ridgeline though, the sun disappeared behind it and I found myself hurrying downhill to beat the fading daylight and the gathering chill. 

When I reached the creek bed it was at some distance downstream of the Upper Centennial Springs, which I estimated to be at least half of a mile. It was only 4:30 but within half an hour it would be dark and very, very cold. I decided to stay and set camp where I was, making use of the remaining daylight to pitch my tent and gather enough firewood for my evening fire and my wood stove. 

Centennial Wash

I should probably add a word of caution here - camping at the bottom of a desert wash, especially in winter,  has some risk tin it of being caught in a flash flood. Desert storms can be unpredictable, strong, and destructive. Where I was that risk was very low not only because there was no precipitation in the forecast for the entire region, but also because the Centennial basin is fairly small. Either way, I was more concerned about the possibility of being stampeded by burros, the droppings and hooves prints of which I've seen all over the place. 

Chilly sunset at Centennial Wash

After eating my dinner I huddled as close to the flames as I could, trying to absorb as much warmth from my small campfire. There was no sound except for the wind, and the heavens were the gorgeous starry desert night sky. I pointed the constellations to myself quietly, both sad and glad that I had no one else there to share the experience with. 

I sat by the fire for two hours until my firewood was all burnt. It was only 7:00 when I finally put out the last of the embers and crawled into my tent for one of the coldest nights I've ever experienced in my camping life. 

 

Link to Day 2 of the Coso Range trip.