Lake County, Oregon, Day 3: Big Basin Overnighter

This is the report for the second day of the Big Basin overnight trip I took.  The day began for me with my alarm clock going off at 5:15, followed by a rushed scramble (which made my legs sore for the next several days) up to the same viewpoint I had taken for the sunset.

Here's the moonrise as the early morning sunlight crept up onto a row of clouds:

My campsite is down in the hollow, near the light colored spot.  I'm not sure but I think the sandy bush free area is a lek, which is a mating ground for sage grouse.  I just checked the federal government's distribution map, and this upland area is listed "current population" while the lower ground areas near the highways, are labeled as "historical population".  That's an important distinction, because this species has experienced a population catastrophe, and is currently on a waiting list for the Endangered Species Act.  If listed (the Bush administration official who prevented its listing back in 2004 resigned after it became clear that she had no expertise on the sage grouse, and made the decision without input from scientists [surprised?]) the sage grouse could cause the same kind of hand wringing as the famous spotted owl, in the wet part of Oregon.  At stake, specifically, are vast tracts of land in Wyoming and elsewhere that are under target for vast oil drilling schemes.  The roads and traffic and general development destroy the grouse habitat.  ESA listing could end up making much land (publicly owned land) unavailable for development.  Expect much hue and cry.

Having found out the previous night that the low angle sunlight on the top of the butte picks out the brush and provides a nice highlight, I got to the top in time to try to work with the phenomenon a little more.

After enjoying the early morning light, I packed up camp and headed back down the road to my car.  The day before I had enjoyed nice side lighting all day, but with the sun either behind the ridgeline or directly above, I focused on exploring a few interesting things I'd noticed on the walk up.

First, a small cave.  There's a crow's nest (there were baby crows in there that hid and shut up as soon as I came around), and plenty of space to spend a night (if you don't mind the birds flying in and out, probably).

Next, I explored some irrigation infrastructure I'd spotted from the road.  Here's a nice long trough, with a pumphouse.  Since there's no water in the entire area, I wonder if cattle would have to stick around this trough, or if that can go a while without drinking.  They'd really impact the area, though, and I didn't really see that.  In fact, though this is all part of BLM's grazing lands, I didn't see too much impact (poop, and degradation of streambeds).  I wonder if it's been out of rotation for a while.

Here's the interior of the pumphouse.  There's a well underneath, a pump (the cylinder on the left), a cord that connects to a generator (not present), and an on button (light switch).  Cool!

I next walked up to visit another neat piece of water infrastructure.  From the road, it was inscrutable.  As I got closer, it became clear- a catchment for rainwater.  Grandaddy could probably have guessed that.  There are two sheet metal sidings that catch the water, then they drain down to a cistern of indeterminate volume (it's buried).  I can't for the life of me figure out what the heck it's for.  Maybe it's for wildlife.  But then why put it inside a fence?  Mule deer will jump a fence, but pronghorn can't, and they're the important species around here, in terms of population recovery.  Maybe it's for people.  But then why is it located off the main road, and why is there no gate to the fencing?  It's easy enough to create a barbed wire gate, but there is none.  There's no obvious piping, so it looks like it's not a water source for some distant trough or anything.  Mystery!

Near the catchment, I came across a small Stonehenge of boulders fallen from the nearby rimrock cliffs.

There were also examples of that old favorite flower, desert paintbrush:

I also found one exceptionally large boulder, which would make an inviting climbing target someday, when I get my fingers back in shape.

Walking through the mouth of the drainage, I spied a little tumbleweed.  Though a venerable symbol of the American West, this plant is actually an invasive from Eurasia, Russian Thistle.  Imported accidentally to the US in the 1870's in a shipment of flax seed, this plant sucks up huge amounts of water (one study measured 44 gallons) before detaching the upper part, which rolls around, thus spreading its seed.  It's a real pest that harms soil quality and starves native plants of water.

Finally, I saw several example of desert evening primrose.  This plant supposedly only opens when the sun has gone below the horizon.  It was about 12 noon when I took this photo, though, and there are plenty of daylight photos of the species online.  It's pretty, though!

Hope you enjoyed reading.  There's still more to come!