Nevada-Oregon Trip, Day 13: From Oregon to Nevada – Through the California Corner to the Desert Springs and Salt Playas of Black Rock

Waking up to the morning chill on the rim of the isolated volcanic cinder cone, I start the jeep and set out on a journey south that crosses three states in a single day.

The landscape becomes wilder, sun-scorched, and more remote by the minute, on the way to the salt basins and hot springs of Nevada.

Parting from Oregon via Lava Lakes and the Southern Desert

I descended from the forested crater of the cinder cone back to the forest tracks and turned south to advance along the state's southern points. The landscape steadily loses its green in favor of wider, flatter expanses.

Fort Rock State Park: Driving past the impressive volcanic rock formations of Fort Rock, which rise like a giant fortress in the heart of the desert. I didn't enter the park itself because it was too early and the gates were closed, settling instead for viewing this impressive volcanic "citadel" directly from the road.

Fort Rock Homestead Village Museum: I stopped for a moment by the outdoor remnants of the museum, which was still closed to visitors.

A bit of history: What exactly is a "homestead" and how did it develop the West? The historic Homestead Act of 1862 was one of the most powerful engines for settling the empty West. The US government granted any citizen (or immigrant who committed to becoming a citizen) a plot of 160 acres of public land for free. The single condition was simple and tough: settlers had to live on the land, build a home (a homestead) on it, and cultivate it agriculturally for five consecutive years.

This law drew millions of pioneers and families into the wilderness, forcing them to build lives out of nothing, thereby transforming the Wild West from a continuous expanse of open land into settled, thriving states.

Hole in the Ground:

I continued to a brief stop at this unique geological area, situated not far from Highway 31. True to its name, it is a massive, clean hole in the heart of the desert plateau, created by an ancient volcanic explosion. Its diameter reaches nearly 1.5 miles, and there is a dirt road encircling it from above alongside an option to descend directly to the bottom of the crater. From there, I cut north to the city of La Pine to refuel, right before finally entering the truly remote segments.

On the way south, I passed through the following points:

Silver Lake: Passing through the small town. To my surprise, right here I hit excellent cell service, so I took the opportunity to download offline maps to my device for the remainder of the day, a decision that turned out to be critical.
Summer Lake and Paisley: A long drive along the wide, shallow Summer Lake, and viewing the steep, impressive cliffs that accompany the road all the way to the small town of Paisley.
Lakeview: Arriving at the self-proclaimed "Hang Gliding Capital of Oregon." This is definitely the absolute last central town on the axis, marking the point of crossing the geographic border south into California. It is nice to remember how I had already been to this city on my trip—it was on the morning of the fourth day of the trip on the way west toward Crater Lake. You can literally say that I completed a massive travel loop across all of western Oregon, which puts this amazing journey into perspective.

Crossing the Northeastern Corner of California (Modoc County)

From Lakeview, I crossed the border into the state of California. But this is not the familiar California of beaches, big cities, and freeways; rather, it is its most isolated, rugged, and wild northeastern corner, Modoc County:

Alturas: A quick pass through the town, which serves as the administrative center for the Modoc National Forest.
Cedarville and Eagleville: I turned east and crossed the picturesque, isolated Surprise Valley. I passed through the small cowboy towns of Cedarville and Eagleville, which sit dramatically at the foot of the sheer Warner Mountains.

Entering Nevada and the Wild West Road of Vya

From Eagleville the paved road ends completely, and I crossed the official border line into the state of Nevada. From here on out, the asphalt vanishes, and the routes become remote, empty, and dusty dirt roads in the heart of the unending wilderness.

Vya: Passing through the landmark of the ghost town of Vya. This is an important historical station on the old pioneer and wagon trails.

Today there is nothing here except a few ranches. You could say that the official entry gateway to the northwestern region of the state of Nevada looks exactly like the area itself, one of the most desert-like, isolated, empty, and least inhabited zones in all of the United States.

A 123-Mile Drive to Hot Springs in the Heart of the Desert

After crossing the border lines of Oregon and the isolated corner of California, I arrived at what was supposed to be one of the highlight moments of the entire trip: entering deep into the wild terrain of Nevada.

The clock already read 2:00 PM, and it was quite warm out but still not the peak of summer. According to my navigation data, an exceptionally tough, isolated, and long off-road axis of 123.6 miles of continuous driving off the asphalt was waiting for me deep in the heart of the desert. I was ready for variations and an extended drive with a spare fuel can; let's see how the day progressed.

The route began at a mountainous elevation of 6,299 feet, and during more than 6 hours of driving, it cut down through mountain ranges and hidden canyons until the final descent to the desert floor at an elevation of 3,906 feet. We are talking about a crazy accumulated elevation drop of over 2,300 feet along the axis.

Entering the Deep Desert and Crossing Mountain Ranges

The driving corridor started at a remote point near Vya, far from any sign of civilization or cell service, and turned southeast deep into the terrain managed by the Bureau of Land Management.

At the start of the route, the track twists across the high ridges under open desert skies and dry, clean air. The terrain here is rugged, but the dirt road was in surprisingly good condition with no special navigability issues; it seems the local cattle ranchers maintain the axis and look after the road for the benefit of their trucks.

As I headed further south, the scenery became more and more dramatic.

The route passed along the edges of the region's large canyons, running not far from High Rock Canyon and flanking the narrow Little High Rock Canyon. Driving inside these creek openings and washes, between sheer canyon walls of sun-scorched basalt and tufa rocks, gives a strong sensation of the true Wild West.

Everything here looks exactly as it did hundreds of years ago, when the first pioneer migrations crossed these remote trails with wagons and horses. While there are no special navigability problems requiring technical rock crawling, the road demands full concentration on driving and precise steering work to protect the tires from exposed, jagged rock edges.

Along this driving segment, I encountered a strange and unusual sight: entire areas were flooded with masses of giant, brown-orange crickets (Mormon Crickets), which were on the ground and on the roadsides in massive swarms. I had seen this phenomenon before in YouTube videos, but it was amazing and slightly surreal to suddenly see this crazy cricket outbreak in the heart of the desert.

How do they survive the extreme climate?

These Mormon crickets utilize a group survival strategy. Their eggs are capable of surviving frozen deep in the ground during the snowy winter of the high desert. When spring arrives, they hatch in droves and begin a massive migratory march in search of food.

To survive the hot, dry summer, they move in dense groups (sometimes millions of individuals), as constant movement protects them from predators and allows them to find moisture from plants, and they even engage in cannibalism of weaker individuals within the swarm to provide fluids.

Continuing across the mountainous zone eastward, I arrived at a green spring area called Flower Spring, which surprises you with a small pond full of water, and next to it a wonderfully manicured ranch that even includes a large grass lawn for golf practice, a truly unbelievable sight out in the middle of nowhere in the heart of the dry desert. Shortly thereafter, at the mouth of a deep canyon, I found an old log cabin open to the public known as "The Little High Rock Hilton," which in the past was likely used by cattle ranchers and sheep herders in the area.

After passing the wide, flat area of High Rock Lake, the trail entered the final narrow pass of the axis shared by the Applegate Trail / Fly Canyon, right before crossing the last mountain range eastward. On the eastern side of the ridge, the track begins to drop noticeably toward a wide, isolated interior basin.

The Road to the Hidden Hot Springs

After a long, bumpy, and dusty drive on the descent toward the remote valley, I spotted other vehicles for the first time in hours, way out in the open plains.

The trail reached the area of Soldier Meadows Hot Springs, a small oasis where green vegetation fed by the water suddenly appears, along with the off-road vehicles of other travelers. The trails here split and pass among several hidden hot springs scattered in the heart of the wilderness, requiring precise navigation to find the premium bathing spots.

I arrived at a local cabin where several vehicles were parked for the night. I asked the guys who were there about the exact location, and they politely directed me toward the wild hot springs located in a more remote, slightly higher area.

I drove there according to the directions and parked at the end of the trail.

A group of about 6 off-road vehicles with families getting organized for dinner was parked at the site; they welcomed me happily and showed me the short walking path leading directly into the hot spring.

I marched along the short path and immediately arrived at the beautiful spring. I stripped off my clothes and stepped into the warm, pleasant water.

It is a simply sublime experience to release your muscles in a natural hot spring after a long, grueling day of off-road driving in the heart of the rugged desert, with only the rustling of the wind heard all around.

Even though the group was parked on the hill not far away, their voices couldn't be heard due to the topography, and the feeling was one of absolute solitude, facing a remote, arid mountain view that reminds you how small you are against the power of nature.

After I got out of the water and returned to the vehicle, members of the group showed me another point of interest on the map: a much larger, deeper, and hotter pool situated not far from my exit route from the area.

I began driving out of the valley and looked for the exact location of the large pool they told me about, eventually tracking it down. The problem was that this area was completely flooded with a massive number of cows lounging around the hot water. I didn't want to get into the water along with all the filth and pollution the cows create in the pool, so I skipped the second dip and kept moving down the road.

In hindsight, I learned that there is another area of cleaner, better-kept springs, not far from the official, organized campground of the reserve. Oh well, we'll save that for next time; I absolutely have to return.

The Big Descent onto the Black Rock Playa

From the hot springs, the final and most dramatic stage of the day began. The trail turned sharply south, passing a particularly large and full reservoir that drains all the excess water from the springs area. It is an amazing sight to see a water lake this large suddenly appear in the middle of the arid desert.

From there, the trail continues south in an almost entirely straight line, tracking along the foot of the impressive cliffs of Mormon Dan Peak. As I advanced, the mountains began to recede to the sides; slowly, the rocky, mountainous landscape vanished as if it never existed, and in its place, the crazy, endless horizon of the Black Rock Playa unfolded before me.

The playa is the bed of a massive prehistoric lake that dried up thousands of years ago (Lake Lahontan). This is one of the flattest, smoothest surfaces of land on Earth, a vast, white, mesmerizing expanse of salt and dry clay stretching for dozens of miles in every direction without a single tree, rock, or prominent landmark.

The "Burning Man" Festival:

The Black Rock Playa is famous worldwide for the Burning Man festival held here every year at the end of summer.

For just one week, the empty white wasteland transforms into "Black Rock City", a temporary city of tens of thousands of residents, built from scratch and based on principles of radical self-expression, free art, and total self-reliance in the harsh, dusty desert conditions.

The endless space fills with monstrous art installations, iron mammoths, and motorized pirate ships, with the peak arriving in the traditional burning of the giant wooden statue of "The Man."

With the conclusion of the event, the city vanishes as if it never existed under the strict principle of "Leave No Trace," and the playa returns to being the same open, quiet, and isolated desert through which I passed, without any evidence of the crazy human carnival that took place in it.

But when I arrived at the playa, from its remote northern side, the place was completely empty and desolate of people or vehicles.

The first and only vehicle to break the sound barrier on land:

It is interesting to know that while most historical land speed records of the last century (between the 1930s and 1960s) were set on the Bonneville Salt Flats in Utah thanks to their hard, stable salt layer, the crazy current land speed record belongs right here, to the Black Rock Desert in Nevada. In 1997, the supersonic vehicle ThrustSSC, driven by Andy Green, flew across this playa at an imaginary speed of 763.035 miles per hour, thereby becoming the first and only vehicle in history to break the sound barrier on land.

The historic transition from Utah to Nevada was born out of pure geographic necessity: supersonic speeds required a straight, uniform, and endless track dozens of miles long at a stretch, a space that only the massive playa flats of Black Rock, situated about 100 miles north of Reno, could provide.

I found an organized entry trail to the playa and pulled down with the jeep into the endless plains.

The moment the vehicle's wheels abandoned the rocky trail and stepped onto the packed, white clay surface of the playa, it was a tremendous feeling of liberation and space. I pressed down on the gas; the distances there completely deceive you, the horizon looks exactly as far away no matter how fast you drive, and the jeep flew enjoyably across the smooth surface while leaving a massive, long plume of fine white desert dust in its wake. I might not have broken the sound barrier, but it was definitely an 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.

I drove a distance of about 20 miles continuously along the western edges of the wide playa, with the powerful Granite Range accompanying me on the right and the white desert cliffs on the left.

The sun began to drop, and heavy, dramatic clouds started rolling in from the west, creating an intense experience of an endless landscape, without a single living soul in sight, and a fast, direct drive while the setting sun painted the sky in shades of orange and yellow.

I stopped the vehicle in the center of the flat to photograph the sunset vanishing beyond the mountains and the final, purple light coloring the infinite playa.

As I approached the area where the Burning Man festival is set up in the south of the plains, a few isolated vehicles coming from the south began appearing here and there. It started getting dark, but I didn't want to stop driving inside these plains of infinity; I wanted to utilize every minute and fraction of the final light.

When it turned completely dark, there was no choice left, and I exited the playa boundaries via the access point known as the 12 Mile Playa Access, where I began looking for an organized campsite for the night.

Night Camp in the Heart of the Desert

The long, grueling, and amazing route of the day ended on one of the hills looking east toward the infinite plains, at a completely wild and isolated spot at the southern edge of the playa, under the cleanest, blackest, most star-strewn skies on the continent.

The hour was already late, around 9:30 PM.

I got organized with a good dinner in the absolute quiet of the terrain, just me, the jeep, and the stars, ready for an exceptionally quiet night in the heart of northern Nevada's desert.

From waking up before sunrise back north in the state of Oregon on the rim of the forested volcano to this point, I ended up driving a massive distance of about 430 miles total today, out of which 123 miles were a crazy off-road drive in the heart of the desert, alongside an unforgettable visit to the hot springs.

Tired but incredibly satisfied, I went to sleep.

We are closing in on the final days of the loop!