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If you recall, Lewis and I have split our efforts in painting along the Old Spanish Trail. There are several routes used and  he is incorporating his discoveries with a nationwide bicycle tour in which he will follow the Old Historic National Trails. I was offered the opportunity to join him on this adventure by riding my Harley and reviving my Artist on a Harley brand. The problem as I saw it was, what he could cover in a day, I could do in less than an hour leaving me with a lot of down time. Additionally, he is being supported by his wife in their camper van. My support would come from my tent. PLUS, I really don't have the time to devote to that as much as I would have liked to.

Soooo...we split up. He'll follow the original Armijo route back to Santa Fe and I'll take the Main or Northern route, back to Santa Fe, meeting where the 2 routes join, down near Abiquiu, NM.

We both started on Monday, March 1st. He, in Solana Beach, CA where he dipped his tire in the Pacific Ocean, turned east and began peddling. I actually started the day before on Sunday since I was headed into the LA area. I figured by going on Sunday there would be less congestion and traffic. To a degree I was right. I had taken my travel trailer and pickup out to California, leaving the trailer in Victorville, CA to base out of for a few days, arriving Saturday evening.

The next morning I ventured off into downtown never-never land. Freeways were light as expected and the skies were clear. A beautiful day in Southern California.

My first stop was at the San Gabriel Mission in...you guessed it...San Gabriel. From there I drove a few miles away to the L.A. Plaza. Both places were ending points for the pack trains from Santa Fe ladened with trade goods from as far away as London and Mexico City. These desirable goods were traded for fine Mexican horses and mules which were in high demand back in Santa Fe.

Let the trading begin.

Unfortunately, the mission had suffered a fire last July and was surrounded by solid construction barrier fencing making it difficult for a tourist like me to see anything. The best I could do was to hold my camera/phone over the top rail and snap a few pics. My plans to sketch and paint the mission were scrapped. I'll have to recreate it from the reference photos I took.

The cars in the parking lot were from an outdoor service being held.

I walked around the entire mission grounds looking for a way in but was without luck. However, I was amazed at how well the grounds and the entire neighborhood were kept. Side streets, buildings and all were immaculate. I realized  that there was a large Asian population as all of the neighboring commercial buildings had Asian lettering on the signage. I'm guessing Vietnamese. I say this because those gathering for the service looked like the Vietnamese I was with in Vietnam when I was in the Army.

On the backside of the grounds, next to where the service was going to be held, was a cemetery behind a walled in area. Of course the entrance to the area was next to where they were assembling for  said service. Having come all of that way, I wasn't to be detoured and made my way through the crowd into the cemetery. 

All were wearing masks of course, as was I, and all were in their Sunday finest...except for me. I was in some patched Levis, T-shirt and sweatshirt. I just nodded and excused myself as they all looked at me, the only white guy in the bunch. I had removed my hat and kept nodding and smiling behind my mask as I found the opening in the wall.

With my head lowered I quickly made my way out of their midsts.

Sorry. Didn't mean to interrupt. Excuse. me. Sorry. Good morning.

Back in the pickup I looked around trying to imagine which way the trail approached the mission and what it might have looked like back in the day.

Maybe it was from this direction...

Or maybe it was here...

Who knows.

I put the L.A. Plaza into my GPS and off I went. The plaza is only a short distance away. Had I known at the time, I could have followed Mission Blvd over to it, as supposedly it follows the trail, or I should say that it is the trail, paved over.

Unfortunately, the Plaza was inhabited with the homeless. Tent city.  I know this is a historically rich area of LA and I really would have liked to get out and walk around a bit but it was impossible to find a place to park. I did manage to quickly pull into a parking spot on the plaza which was meant for buses but since I didn't see any buses around, I took advantage of the opportunity to jump out and snap a shot from where I thought maybe the trail had been come...

there ya have it...downtown LA 

This side of the plaza didn't have the homeless camp...for some reason...maybe zoning...who knows.

I decided to circle the block to see if I could find a place to park as there was little to no traffic, but no luck. I ventured off another block thinking I could walk back but somehow got onto a transit bus only one way lane which I couldn't get out of. I was trapped and the only way out was to go ahead. A large sign warned that unauthorized use was subject to a $500 fine. Exit 4.9 miles ahead. All I could think of was to plead ignorance and maybe they'd take pity on this stupid tourist. Surely I wouldn't have been the first one to make this mistake.

To my relief I was eventually dumped out onto a freeway although I was still trapped in the bus/HOV lane. Seeing my chance I quickly ducked over into a slower lane and tried to get oriented. No luck. I was done. My tolerance level had been exceeded. Traffic had picked up significantly and I was lost. Reaching for the GPS I punched in "Take me Home"...not as in back to Colorado but to Victorville.

At least I can say I was there.

The next day I had an appointment with the president of the Mojave River chapter of the Old Spanish Trail Association. About the time Lewis was dipping his tire in the Pacific Ocean, I met Nelson Miller. I was camped with my trailer at the Mojave Narrows Regional Park, which coincidently was on the trail. Or a part of it.

One of the things learned from Nelson was that the trail actually took two forms. The westbound trail was actually a trail on which these hundred or so pack burros followed head to tail. They would have been strung out for quite a distance but they would have followed an actual trail.

The east bound traffic however, would have consisted of the traded for herds of horses and mules which were, more likely than not, "herded" along in the general direction, sometimes as much as a hundred or more yards wide and maybe up to a mile or more in length. These herds numbered in the hundreds and thousands. The largest recorded number was 4,000 head. Therefore, in looking  for the "trail" one has to consider whether we are talking the westbound trail or the eastbound.

Nelson is a very knowledgeable person, not only about the trail but about all of the influences leading up to it and since. The reasons why. The local history. Although not a Morman, he knows a lot about the Morman influence and history. For instance...

As I have mentioned before, the trail goes by different names locally, depending on the time period. The Old Spanish Trail was also used, or portions were, by the Mormans in their search for a route to and from the Salt Lake area. Consequently, the trail was also known as the Morman Trail or the Salt Lake Wagon Road, at least as far as it was followed before departing the OST (Old Spanish Trail) and turning north. Back home, between Delta and Grand Junction at Wells Gulch, I've mentioned that the traces seen there are also known as the Old Salt Lake Wagon Road. There was also a large Morman population  that settled in San Bernardino, at the base of Cajon Pass. I did an ink and watercolor sketch of the Morman Rocks, as they are locally known. A place where the Mormans gathered before descending further into the San Bernardino basin.

Nelson is also on the board of the Mojave Desert Museum in Barstow and...I forget all of his credentials. He was/is really knowledgeable about the area in general, not just the trail.

He explained that the Mojave River played a big part in the history of the use of the trail back in the day because of the water...of course. This is high desert country and water would be very important. Consequently, going east or west, the burros and the herds of horses and mules...followed the river...at least over to Barstow where it terminates...at least for our purposes. If you aren't familiar with this part of the country you should get a map out and follow along.

OH! Speaking of maps...I found myself at somewhat of a disadvantage because of the lack of maps. I had planned on stopping at the BLM office in Barstow to get needed maps and get orientated but they were closed...due to COVID. Nowhere in Victorville could I find the maps I needed. USGS maps or something with detail and or local information. Everyone I asked said they order them online...a little late for me...or print them off from online sources...works fine if you have a printer, which was something I had forgot to bring. Geezzz. How could I forget a critical piece of gear such as a printer. Camped in my trailer with no electricity...and no printer. I did have a couple of guide books that mapped the trail in a fashion, and Nelson gave me a AAA road map that at least help get me oriented in the area.

Anyway...

Nelson started our tour by following the Mojave river through the area. The Mojave is generally an underground river, coming to the surface only when it crosses bedrock in narrow places. Today, the riverbed, anywhere from a hundred yards or more wide is all dry and choked with tumbleweeds. So why follow a dry riverbed? Ha! I'm glad you asked he said. Turns out that the water table used to be a lot closer to the surface than it is today and the riverbed was rich and lush with grasses...great for pack trains and herds of horses to feed on. He said beginning back in the early 60's when development of the area began in earnest, all the wells punched, to support the housing boom, began to lower the water table. Consequently with even more development, the surface of the riverbed dried up. The grasses died and the tumbleweeds took over.

What a shame.

Route 66 is a big deal in the area and aside from the history of that fabled and storied piece of pavement...it also followed the Old Spanish Trail. Rt 66 goes between Victorville and Barstow, kind of a "back road" if you will, instead of I15. We took that. What a treat. Still lots of old buildings and businesses, some open and active, many just a remnant of days past.

Of course, nobody drives in a leisurely manner out there so we whisked right along, Nelson waving his arms, pointing here and there and talking the whole time. Me wishing he'd slow down so I could take some photos at least. It became clear early on that'd I'd have to come back over this route at my leisure and do my picture taking...maybe even get a painting or two done.

In Barstow we were able to park and get out. 

Barstow has  quite a history. Even today. It's location is historic. First off, it's on Rt 66. It is known as the City of Murals.

 one of I think 15 painted around town...a little culture if you will, even in Barstow.

It is where I40 splits off of I15. It is the largest rail yard West of the Mississippi and is home to the last Harvey House which closed in the 70's I think.

 a grand old place it is.

Apparently not many of them even remain standing.

PLUS...just out of town a ways, there is the Fork in the Road, the historic place where the Northern Route and the Armijo Route of the Old Spanish Trail either meet or spilt up depending on which way you are going.

It was marked by a small rock cairn...and a bit of knowledge.

OHV is a BIG deal out there. All of Southern California heads to the desert to ride the hundreds of thousands of acres of BLM Mojave desert in their side-by-sides, their jeeps, their motorcycles, their 4wheelers...you name it. If it has a motor and goes fast, they are on it out there in the desert. Which creates a problem when it comes to preserving historic trails...or anything else as far as that goes. Naturally if you are out partaking in these activities, you will be following the MANY trails out across the desert...or not...maybe creating your own trail.

Camping in your motorhome, trailer, or pickup and pulling a trailer with your OHV is what people do. Everybody. Young and old alike.

Even Nelson who is two months older than I am. He belongs to a desert jeeping club even though he drives a Toyota 4Runner...because that's what he has. Claims he can keep up with any of the others. I don't doubt it.

Anyway... the "Fork in the Road" is not widely marked. There is a real dilemma because marking it would draw attention to it which would result in it being defaced and vandalized. There are concrete markers, like I'll show you later, that are used to mark portions of the trail. They are erected by the association and the BLM. Few survive because they are either stolen or used for target practice. Left unmarked, it's location is limited to only those who know. Awareness for others is absent. Part of the agenda for the work I am doing is to create some awareness, potentially to be used on trailheads, brochures and kiosk signage. Because the history here is important. Least we forget...or worse yet, never know.

From the Fork in the Road we drove over to another section of the desert following the Northern/Main Trail, away from the Mojave River, but still in the Mojave Desert. The road on the desert sand was terribly washboarded. Nelson said that it used to be a good firm roadbed on the sand but the HOV crowd drives on it too fast. The roughness of the road, the washboard, 6 inches from peak to valley about a foot apart, didn't deter Nelson. I will attest to the durability of the Toyota 4Runner, at least the older ones. I couldn't believe the beating it took...and me in the passenger seat. After 10 mikes or more of this, we were able to get off onto some better terrain and finally stopped at the bottom of what is known as Impassable Pass.

 The top of which is marked by a HUGE rock carin

 Looking west, the way we had come

Looking to the east from Impassable Pass across the Mojave Desert. Beyond the fence is Ft. Irwin.

Unfortunately, the route is blocked by a barb wire fence. The other side is Ft. Irwin. Military grounds. No trespassing. They are serious too.

I would pick the trail up on the other side in a couple of days.

The ride back wasn't near so brutal as Nelson all of a sudden remembered a shortcut back to the interstate. All was good.

That afternoon, he took me to Cajon Pass. He knew an advantage point from which we had a commanding view. The volume of traffic, both auto and railt was amazing. All of the east/west traffic in and out of Southern California is choked down into this passage. Of course, Nelson knew all about it. I will admit, it was quite interesting...if you are interested in such things. He seemed to enjoy having me as a captive audience but I was a very appreciative student. 

One of the highlights of the tour, besides the Fork in the Road, and Impassable Pass awaited me. There is a spot on the PCT, the Pacific Coast Trail, that passes right under I15 and comes out just a hundred yards from a McDonalds. I'm told it it a big deal for the hikers. I'm sure.

However, the big deal for me was what he showed me next. I was able to actually stand on a portion of the Old Spanish Trail. If that wasn't enough, it was also the PCT, the original Rt 66, the Old Morman Trail and the Old Salt Lake Wagon Road...all right here under my feet. The history of  those who passed before  was not lost on me. A humbling place for sure. This place, the Impassable Pass and the Fork in the Road were all worth the trip alone. The reason I do this.

This is looking eastbound

looking westbound where today the trail comes under I15.

Stay tuned next time we'll move onto the other side of Ft. Irwin, on the edge of Death Valley, north of Baker, CA as I follow the trail east.

Until then, thanks for tuning in and I'll see you out there somewhere.