In Death Valley: Ashford Mill

January 13, 2020

We’re leaving Death Valley today for Boulder City, Nevada. The driving distance is short enough that there’s time to fit in a ride somewhere, and we decide to take a last one here in the park. After a lot of map gazing and discussion we decide on another pass climb - a fairly easy one, up Salsbury Pass (or is it Jubilee Pass? The map suggests one pass, but with two names). The climb starts by Ashford Mill, a relic of the gold mining era that stands at the far south end of Badwater Basin. We’ll drive to Ashford Mill, climb the pass and coast back, and then proceed on with the drive to Nevada.

First though, breakfast. We get an early start, leaving just before dawn for the half hour drive to Furnace Creek and a second shot at their great Death Valley Omelet.

One last Death Valley sunrise before we go.

Weather conditions for a ride are ideal today. Skies are clear, winds are light, it’s cool but not cold when we leave the restaurant at about 9. It’s 45 miles down Badwater Road from Furnace Creek to Ashford Mill, a good hour’s drive - it should be comfortably warm at the base of the climb when we reach Ashford Mill.

This early on a winter weekday morning, the Badwater Road is virtually empty as we bike past features we’re familiar with by now - between our two visits we’ve ridden the whole northern extent, as far south as Mormon Point about fifteen miles beyond Badwater. It’s a beautiful drive, the Panamint Range rising above the opposite side of the basin basking in the light of the morning sun, Telegraph Peak still bearing the traces of the most recent snowfall. I stop along the way to get out of the car and take a photograph, and am reminded each time of how perfect it feels out this morning.

As we round the nose of Mormon Point, the southernmost spot we’ve biked here, I broach the question to Rachael that’s been gnawing away at my mind as we drive. Playing the Devil’s advocate, I say, why should we climb a pass today and risk another bout of hypothermia when we could just start here, bike down to Ashford Mill and back along the only stretch of this road we’ve never biked, and keep warm?

Sounds kind of boring just biking in the valley again, she suggests.

Doesn’t look boring to me. We’re even starting to see some vegetation and a bit of green in the basin here. It’s different.

She suggests that we stop the car, get out the GPS, and check the distance to Ashford Mill. It’s 20.9 miles, which is perfect. For reasons I’ve never been clear on, 42 is one of Rachael’s magic numbers. She’s always happier when the ride is 42 miles long, and will often speed on ahead to go just far enough that she can round up.

We have a plan. We unload the bikes and I change into my bike clothes on the shoulder of the road, confident that no one will pass by at an embarrassing moment on this empty road. I’m wrong though. Just as I’m pulling up my shorts a black pickup rounds the bend and passes us, the first car we’ve seen for ten minutes. Even in the desert, Murphy’s Law still applies.

Why not just start here, at Mormon Point? Looks interesting enough.

Theres not too much to say about the ride itself. It’s beautiful the whole way - long views of empty road, the dramatic landscape the same but different. An excellent ride. The one significant difference is that it’s much greener as we move south, imperceptibly gaining a bit of elevation. there’s more plant life, we see an occasional bird, and here and there there’s standing water in the basin. Quite a different feel from the severity of the basin near its lowest point.

Not boring at all. Southbound, heading for Ashford Mill, with the Blue Whale quickly disappearing in the distance.

Most of the traffic I see on the road for the next hour looks like this.

The basin this far south looks much different, with surface water here and there.

Actually, I’m not sure exactly where Mormon Point is. The Sign suggests It’s here, but there’s no point here. It’s that big nose splayed out into the basin about four miles off now. Quite confusing.

The Panamint Range still shows white at its highest elevations, but it’s receded a bit in our short stay here. I suspect it will be gone soon if they don’t get a new winter storm.

How great is this? There’s enough standing water for a small reflecting pond.

Looks are deceptive here. This is about a three or four mile stretch of straight road ahead, except for a bend around this low depression.

Reminds me of the similar, samosa-shaped formation we saw near Stovepipe Wells.

Nearing the end of Badwater Road. Ashford Mill is just beyond the drop ahead, and the pass begins soon after.

It’s not 20.9 miles to Ashford Mill - it’s more like 18. The GPS route we mapped out on the fly is to Ashford Mine instead, another two miles off up a rough gravel road into the foothills somewhere. We’re not going up there of course. We’ll stop at Ashford Mill, with all the usual facilities you’d expect at a recognized park landmark.

Rachael gets to the turnoff first though, so I know how this story will play out. Pursuing her magic number, she blows right past the turnoff, continues climbing, starts in on the beginnings of Jubilee Pass. She finally turns back when she gets her distance in and has gotten high enough off the valley floor to capture some good video of the descent back.

Image not found :( — The look at the base of Jubilee Pass, the road not taken today. From the look here, it would have been a great choice too.

With her distance in, she’s racing back down, issuing commands to her GoPro.

All you’ll get to see of Jubilee Pass for this tour at least. Maybe someday we’ll come back and give it a ride.

There is almost nothing left at Ashford Mill. A few concrete ruins, and a board with an old photograph of the intact mill before it started giving way to the elements. In its day it existed to process gold ore extracted from Ashford Mine, the one up in the hills we didn’t bike to.

There’s not much mill left, but there are the other bare essentials: an outhouse, and exactly one picnic table. We quickly grab it, before the hoards of tourists arrive and grab the best break spot for miles around.

Surprisingly, almost immediately someone actually does drive up to interrupt our solitude. A black pickup parks nearby, oddly crowding our space. The driver gets out, walks over, asks if we need any water. A very nice guy, and we enjoy an extended chat. He’s from Las Vegas, has lived there his whole life, and makes it down to the valley from time to time. He bikes some too, which is why he stopped by to check in on us. He and his buddy biked from Furnace Creek to Stovepipe Wells and back just yesterday. It didn’t occur to me at the time, but I’m quite sure we passed them driving back from Desolation Canyon. Two guys, biking toward Furnace Creek, early afternoon. The only bikers we saw on the drive. It had to have been them.

We tell him a bit about ourselves, our lives, and our ride today. Mention that we parked the car on the shoulder of the road back by Mormon Point, riding an out and back to this mill.

But he knows that already, of course. He saw us unloading the bikes, and saw me with my pants down. It’s that black pickup. Snicker.

Not much left of Ashford Mill. Mike said there was much more to see here when he first started stopping by decades ago.

The remains of Ashford Mill frame Telescope Peak.

We’re experimenting with the new stretch model Bike Friday just came out with.

The picnic bench at Ashford Mill: not a bad spot for lunch, if you can put up with the crowds.

Leaving Ashford Mill. Its mine is up there in all that color somewhere.

The ride back. As always, it’s a much different ride played in reverse.

Back to Mormon Point. Our car is almost straight ahead, about four miles off.

Maybe the light wasn’t right before, but I didn’t notice how much water is in the basin here.

Video sound track: Miles From Nowhere, by Cat Stevens

Back at the car, we begin the longish drive to Boulder City. It begins by driving the route we just biked, and then climbing Jubilee Pass/Salisbury Pass. On the way up, the naming mystery resolves itself - there are actually two passes in series here, with a minimal depression in between.

It’s a gorgeous ride up to the summit of Salisbury, the final pass. Absolutely empty road, a nice gentle grade the whole way, fantastic color in the rocks. It makes us rue a bit the decision we made today. If/when we return some year, this climb will be high on our ride list.

The drive goes fast for about two hours until we approach Las Vegas, at which time it turns awful. Right at sundown, right at rush hour, spaghetti freeways; nightmare conditions. Thank god for GPS to help you navigate messes like this and get into the right lane while it’s still possible to merge. Fortunately we’ve gotten very good at this by now, with Rachael navigating and commanding out instructions at just the right time.

Finally, just past Henderson, we break free of the jam and soon are in refreshingly small, quiet Boulder City. We stop at Dellinger’s for dinner - a bar with a dizzying array of burgers and sandwiches to choose from, and a big beer list - they even have Dead Guy Ale, one of my favorites from back home. Somehow I pass though on the very tempting Sticky Burger, with its quarter pound of beef and a layer of peanut butter. The menu recommends that it’s even better with two fried eggs wedged in. Mmmm.

We’re here for two nights, staying in the Boulder City Hotel, a historic building that doubles as a museum. But more about that tomorrow.

A quick look at Salisbury Pass, to remind us that we want to come back some year.

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Bill ShaneyfeltInteresting how your view of the desert contrasts with so many other cyclists who say things like " There's NOTHING out there... NOTHING!" and "It is so boring. I never want to come back!" Your view is refreshing to say the least.

I feel a slight tinge of jealousy while you hang your hat in the 'Vegas area for a couple days, as I have a daughter and 3 grandkids in the area, a good friend in Henderson, another in N. Las Vegas and another somewhere in that area as well. So much to see while in the area. Red Rock Canyon is quite nice, and many cyclists ride there.
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4 years ago

Scott AndersonTo Bill ShaneyfeltThanks, Bill. I agree - I don’t understand why more people aren’t drawn to the desert but it’s one of my favorite environments. I could really come down here every year and be quite happy.

You’re right about Red Rock Canyon too. It’s really beautiful, and we rode it last time. We’d thought we would spin through it again this time but decided at the last minute to spend another day in the valley.
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4 years ago

Bill ShaneyfeltActually, I can well identify with those who think the desert is bare. As a 10 year old from Indiana, moving to Mojave was traumatic. No trees to climb, no berries to pick, no streams or pools of water with frogs and tadpoles. It probably took about 2 or 3 years before I actually began to like it. Within a few more years, I'd become a confirmed desert rat.
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4 years ago

Ride stats today: 43 miles, 1,700’; for the tour: 925 miles, 48,100’

Today's ride: 43 miles (69 km)
Total: 925 miles (1,489 km)

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