Three Nights At Angel Creek

This is our third night in this peaceful Forest Service campground in the mountains of northeastern Nevada. Although there are few other campers and it seems far from civilization, we have excellent Verizon coverage, which has enabled me to get some necessary writing work completed. I like my office at home with its view of our backyard garden, but working in our trailer with its ever-changing nature panorama is pretty sweet, too.

Hiking To Smith Lake

Yesterday we took a half-day hike from Angel Lake, at the top of the canyon, to Smith Lake, a high mountain glacial cirque. It seems as though all of the hiking that we’re doing lately is at 8,000 feet and above. This hike started out through a landscape thick with sagebrush, which smells divine in the warm afternoon sun. We passed by only three other people on the trail: a vegetarian fisherman who throws back everything he catches, and a couple in full camouflage gear who were hunting with muskets (they were empty-handed, as well).

A Nearby Hot Spring

This afternoon we drove a few miles down the mountain, through the dinky town of Wells, and then several miles on the worst road we’ve ever been on. It was the pothole road from hell, a rollercoaster of deep gullies and pits. Once we were on it, there was no turning back until we reached the end. So we continued on, at a speed of less than 5 mph, then parked and hiked a half-mile into a beautiful canyon to Twelve Mile Hot Springs.

Crossing the bridge over the creek was interesting. The hot spring, though, was a wonderful, huge swimming pool. We were the only ones there.

A Unique (For Us) Bird Sighting

Magpies, ravens, and Mountain Chickadees surround us in this campground, and the night before last we awoke to a unique sound that we’d never before heard: a long screech, followed by a soft “whoo-whoo-whoo—whoo-whoo-whoo.” The calling went on for at least a half-hour, and we were certain it was an owl, but which one? Eric finally figured it out: the screech was a female Short-eared Owl, and the soft hooting response was the male. We saw a couple of them the next evening swooping near the road in the dusky evening light as they were hunting in the tall grasses. No photos, but good memories. (Update: we did get good photos of the owls on a return trip in 2016.)

Where we stayed: Angel Creek Campground, USFS