A long and packed day of 345 miles, most of which was spent on wild desert trails with some last-minute plan changes.
First Stop: Saying Goodbye to Nevada and Entering Desert Oregon
After pulling out of the grueling backcountry of Onion Valley and refueling at Denio Junction, I reached the tiny town of Denio, which sits in Nevada right on the border line with Oregon.
I arrived at the geographic border and the Welcome to Nevada Sign facing the opposite direction.
I stopped for a moment by the Nevada entrance sign, which for me, at that moment, actually marked my farewell to the state and made the official border crossing into the open expanses of southeastern Oregon.
When people think of a trip to Oregon, the automatic picture that pops into their mind is lush rainforests, rushing waterfalls, snow-capped peaks like Mount Hood, or a dramatic, forested coastline. But when you cross the Cascade Range far to the east, you discover an entirely different world that shatters all conceptions.
Eastern Oregon is a high, tough, and wild desert, which geographically and culturally resembles its neighbor Nevada much more than it does green Portland. There is no coastline or endless forests here, but rather massive expanses of wilderness, sun-scorched hills, and flat salt playas.
At the same time, unlike regular Nevada, out here you feel the volcanic history of the region with much greater intensity. The terrain reveals without filters the fact that boiling lava shaped this place: the ground is littered with dark basalt rocks, deep volcanic canyons, ancient lava fields, and bubbling hot spring pools that prove geothermal activity is still brewing right beneath the surface.
Oregon in this region is simply Nevada on volcanic steroids, a surreal and amazing piece of country for true desert lovers.
Second Stop: Fields Station General Store – A Milkshake After 5 Years
My next stop on the Oregon asphalt was the famous roadside way station, Fields Station.
This place is a tiny oasis in the heart of the wilderness, known primarily for its crazy milkshakes and burgers, which anyone crossing this remote area simply must stop and taste.
Well, if everyone says so, you have to stop and taste the famous milkshake. I ordered strawberry flavor and it was amazing, partly because I hadn’t had a milkshake in about five years due to type 2 diabetes constraints, and partly because it really is phenomenal.
This was the time to decide what to do today, as I had several points marked in the area. Following yesterday's success, my original thought was to do an off-road drive into the high mountains of Steens Mountain.
I drove toward the start of the trail, and after half an hour of driving on Highway 205 along the western side of the mountain range, I reached the starting point. To my great disappointment, I discovered there that the trail was completely closed and entry was forbidden due to high snow loads still blocking the mountains.
Well, the backcountry is the backcountry, and you have to adjust plans accordingly.
I turned the vehicle around, drove back toward Fields, and from there turned north toward the Alvord Desert. At a certain point the asphalt ended and the road transitioned into a dirt trail, but it was in really good shape, so there was no need to stop and air down the tires.
Third Stop: Frog Spring and the Alvord Desert Basin
I continued driving along the impressive Steens Mountain rising on the left, and from here I could clearly see the massive amounts of snow still covering the entire mountain range, so it was no wonder the road up was closed.
I reached a point called the Frog Spring Alvord Desert Access and entered the drainage basin of the Alvord Desert.
The place is a massive, completely flat playa of an ancient, dried-up lake. Before heading inside, onto the vast white salt surface, I stopped and checked carefully to ensure everything was indeed dry and there were no damp areas in sight where the vehicle might sink. If you sink here, recovery is a highly complex, tough, and nearly impossible story. Happily, even though I saw only one vehicle near the edge, everything looked and felt bone dry, and there was no problem crossing.
This was the precise moment to let loose, pressing down on the gas for a fast drive deep into the endless flat. It was a truly unique driving experience.
How is a salt flat playa formed?
A salt flat is a massive, white, ruler-straight surface created by a precise combination of topography and a harsh climate through five stages:
The Closed Basin: It all begins with a deep valley surrounded by high mountains, with no outlet for creeks toward the sea. The water trapped inside cannot flow out.
Mineral Erosion: Rains and snowmelt on the peaks flow downward, eroding the mountain rocks and dissolving massive quantities of salts and minerals out of them.
Seasonal Lake: This salty water accumulates at the lowest point in the valley, creating a shallow, expansive lake.
Intense Evaporation: The blazing sun and desert winds dry up the lake rapidly, at a rate much higher than the amount of precipitation.
The Salt Crust: Since only the water evaporates and not the minerals, all the salts are left behind. They settle, crystallize, and form a white, hard, and completely flat crust.
When this process repeats itself over thousands of years, the water that arrives each time levels the surface, leaving behind this endless playa, the perfect place to open up some speed.
After a few fast drives and a beautiful photo session with the drone from above, it was time to move on.
I passed by Alvord Hot Springs, an organized hot springs site sitting right on the edge of the playa, offering a surreal view of hot water welling up across from an endless, open space.
Fourth Stop: Mickey Hot Springs and the Remote Desert Adventure
Since the plan to travel in the snowy mountains was canceled, I decided to trade it for a longer and deeper drive into the desert.
I saw on the maps that there is one road crossing the massive desert eastward to Highway 95, and another road returning toward Fields that passes near other hot springs I had marked for myself in advance.
Near Fields I still had a bit of cell service, so I took the opportunity to download offline maps to my phone. A drive of 130 miles in isolated deserts lay ahead of me, far from any settlement, and in situations like this, it is very good to have a digital map in addition to the physical paper road atlas that always stays permanently in my vehicle.
I left the main road and headed east into the remote desert, aiming to reach Mickey Hot Springs.
This area is a cluster of bubbling hot springs that look completely boiling and are absolutely not for bathing.
The place looks exactly like a mini-Yellowstone: a fascinating geothermal site with bubbling water pools, boiling mud, and steam vents bursting out of the desert ground, accompanied by thick steam and a constant roar of steam pressure.
From Mickey Hot Springs, a long off-road drive of about 35 miles began, highly isolated and challenging toward the east.
I cut through wild, remote dirt trails that cross the invisible border line of time zones, past the Pacific/Mountain Time Zone Sign along US-95, with the goal of continuing deep into the wilderness.
Fifth Stop: Highway 95 and Driving to Willow Creek Hot Springs
After finally connecting to Highway 95, I drove south on it until I reached the road that leads back west. To my great surprise, the dirt road called Whitehorse Ranch Road was in excellent condition and well-maintained, which allowed me to pick up a nice speed driving west.
After about half an hour of driving, right after passing the ranch area, I found the side road turning toward Willow Creek Hot Springs.
These are small, hidden, and completely lonely hot springs in the heart of the white desert. A truly unique place to relax from all the road rattling of the past few days.
I met one person there who had come to the place for a few days of isolation, and he told me with a smile that I was the first guest he had seen in the last two days.
The people you meet at natural hot springs are very unique, certainly different; who is crazy enough to drive hundreds of miles to the middle of the desert to bathe naked in hot springs? Besides travelers like me, there are many people who stepped off the treadmill of the endless Western life race and live in a sort of nomadism.
This is the time to say that, contrary to the great conservatism usually found around natural hot springs in the US, even if informally, wearing a swimsuit is an option and most people bathe naked, though you can bathe in a swimsuit with no problem. Keep this in mind if you are traveling with kids.
To my surprise, the place was really well-maintained and included a campsite and an organized campground. I got into the water and bathed in the hot spring for about half an hour, enjoying every moment of quiet.
Fuel Drama at Sunset and Searching for a Campsite
Well, it was time to keep driving west.
I got into the vehicle, started driving, and suddenly realized my fuel level was low. All the driving back and forth and the big loop on the dirt roads simply swallowed up the fuel tank. According to the vehicle's range gauge, I had only 70 miles of fuel left. This should definitely be enough to reach the main highway, a distance of about 20 miles, and from there another 15 miles to the gas station at Denio Junction.
At the same time, I started hoping in my heart that the station there actually had fuel, that the pump was working, and that it still accepted credit cards, because the store next to it would already be closed at these hours. The second gas station in the area is in Fields, but I didn't know if it was open, and it wasn't at all in my continuing direction.
I reached the gas station in Denio with about 35 miles left in the tank according to the car computer. I guess I calculated correctly and had double the necessary spare, but I really don't like getting into such borderline situations in such remote and isolated areas.
First insight from the event: I must buy a proper 5-gallon fuel jerrycan to sit permanently on the roof rack!
After refueling, I started driving west on the empty Highway 140.
The road begins in Nevada but very quickly returns and enters the state of Oregon, in an area characterized by a high, lonely basalt plateau.
After a very long drive that extended deep into the late afternoon hours and sunset, along one of the most isolated roads in the region, I arrived right at the moments of sunset at a beautiful viewpoint overlooking a massive valley.
It was the perfect timing to stop: I pulled out the picnic chair, made a good dinner, and sat down to eat and enjoy the spectacular view of the sun dropping in the west, beyond the towering mountains.
When it began to get truly dark, I returned to the vehicle and continued driving west to look for a suitable place to sleep.
I passed a large valley with a lake and a river near a small town called Adel, but the area was swarming with crazy amounts of mosquitoes, so I decided not to stop and kept driving.
The road began to climb into the mountains, and as soon as I reached a wooded, quiet area, I broke away from the main highway onto a side road and found my corner.
I parked the vehicle for the third night of sleep on the journey, got organized quickly inside the car, and went to sleep. Tomorrow a new day awaits.
In total, I drove 345 miles today, most of it on desert trails.
Additional pictures from this day:
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