|
|
|
Looking up the canyon toward Newberry Cave from the Valley floor |
|
|
|
STRANGE
DESERT WORLD OF SILVER VALLEY By
Betty L. Ryker Desert
Magazine/April 1966
The
WORD “desert” is defined as “an arid, barren tract incapable of
supporting life without an artificial water supply.”
Silver Valley, at Newberry in Southern California, resembles a
desert. Its terrain
consists of sand, volcanic ash, dry lakes, a lava flow, mesquite and
tumbleweeds. Yet its water
table lies only from six to sixty feet underground.
This phenomenon was known to primitive Indians some 20,000 years
ago and even in historic times the area was named “Water” when the
Iron Horse wormed its way West. Later
it was renamed Newberry, but it is still a railroad water stop.
No
one really knows why this small valley, 80 square miles, boasts such an
abundance of water. Some
say it’s the Bentonite clay, which forms a deep, wide bowl underneath
and contains the runoff of centuries of rains from surrounding
mountains, along with natural springs.
That the Mojave River goes underground near Barstow, 18 miles
west, and continues throughout the area, could also account for the
natural reservoir.
During
a recent three-day exploration of this region I heard of caves in the
rugged south rim of the Newberry Mountains.
They had been used by prehistoric Indians who left artifacts. Bones of the Giant Condor and small three-toed horse had also
been found. Directions to
these caves were confusing and, aware of a maze of little canyons
flowing into larger ones, I knew my chances of finding it alone were
slim.
At
my headquarters, the Sidewinder Café on Highway 66, I learned that the
closest route was to leave my car at Echo Ranch and head straight up the
wide mouth of the canyon afoot. This
couldn’t be missed, I was assured, as it was the only opening. When I asked if Echo Ranch was occupied, a
We
were rewarded around the next outcropping where a great rock guarded the
entrance to a cave. Eons
ago it had been the facing of the cave, but some earth movement
evidently created a schism and piece of mountain now leaned precariously
over our trail. From the other side, I touched it, expecting it to go
crashing down. But it
didn’t. The cave itself
was not big. It intruded
into the mountain some 25 or 30 feet, growing smaller as it receded and
the passageway circled around to return to the front on a higher level
of flooring. The ceiling
was black with the smoke of ancient campfires.
Outside we found remnants of excavation materials used by
archeological expeditions, so the cave had been explored before.
As we descended the alluvial fan that spewed from the canyon’s
entrance, winds whistled and howled like irate spirits.
Then it started to rain. I
wondered if the wrath of those primitive spirits had been evoked at our
disturbance of their resting place.
Back
at my headquarters I learned from Mrs. Ruth Armstrong, an authority on
rocks and gemstones in the area, of lava bombs to be found around the
base of Pisgah Crater, to the east.
This extinct volcano blew its top as late as 700 years ago and is
responsible for the layer of dry “black top” called lava flow.
This spooky mount, rising mesa-like from the desert floor, it not
distinguishable as such until it is viewed from nearby.
Then, its blackened, charred exterior reflects the violence and
tragedy of an unexpected eruption.
A locked gate discourages motorists from driving up to it but its
empty silhouette contributes much to the timeless mood of this strange
desert with its vast underground or water stored in a natural sealer of
Bentonite.
With
the inception of the modern-day bulldozer, the properties of soil in
this region have been utilized to the fullest.
Within a few short hours, an acre-sized lake can be scooped out
and lined with its own no-absorbent clay.
Then a single well drilled to a depth of 100 or 150 feet assures
an unlimited supply of fresh spring water.
The cost of an acre lake is little more than that of a swimming
pool! Depending upon a
person’s particular tastes, each may realize what he wants here.
If you’re a fisherman, bluegill, catfish, bass and trout thrive
in these manmade desert lakes. If more action is desired, a lake can be shaped for
water-skiing, boating, sailing or water paddling.
Or, if you just want to get away from it all, you can create an
island retreat and stock it with crocodiles!
Already some 35 to 50 lakes have been dug, or are in the process,
gut the rolling, dune-like desert hides these real-life mirages and
unless you’re equipped with a sand buggy, you may miss most of them.
Hal
Burdick, one of the newer pioneers, owns a nearly five-acre lake stocked
with fish and planted with luxuriant foliage He is now completing the
landscaping of another lake with two islands joined by a Japanese
rainbow bridge. Another,
Lake Loreen is a more commercial venture of 34 acres.
Operated by Gus and Loreen Raigosa, the public can enjoy its
fish-filled lagoons and swimming holes, boating or just plain
picnicking. And for the
gourmet, there is a little Polynesian restaurant where food rivals that
of Bali Hai, on San Diego’s Shelter Island, which inspired this place.
On the eastern edge of the valley is the long, shallow basin of
Troy Dry Lake. One of these
days a far-sighted developer will reconvert this to its original state,
making a wonderland of homes and recreation areas against the purple and
beige Cady Range which slopes up from its shoreline.
That this was once full of water and lush foliage as is evidenced
by arrowheads and artifacts, probably of the primitive Indians who
frequented the cave. But it
was also a more recent battleground.
In the mid 1800s, soldiers drilled at old Fort Cady whose ruins
lay to the north. This
outpost was one of the worst assignments a soldier could have and
desertions were many despite its convenience and protection for more
than 2,000 covered wagons a year. It
was also a shipping point for the gold mines of Alvord, until it was
abandoned in 1870.
Even
in modern dress, Silver Valley and its neighboring communities still
breathe the days of old. The
revived ghost town of Calico brings western-minded tourists into the
area and although Barstow has assumed a façade of shy sophistication,
ranchers still come to market wearing broad-brimmed hats and spurs on
their boots. Desert Magazine/April 1966
|
gentleman sitting
down the counter sort of smiled and said he though it was.