New Song Category: Gold or Mining Song | Seminole Wind

John Anderson: Seminole Wind (lyrics)

Album: Seminole Wind, 1992

I'm claiming a new song category: Gold Songs. And kind of like the Road Song category—songs that have to mention roads, streets, etcetera—gold songs are those that mention gold, gold mining, and possibly just mining in general. As a new category, at least on the blog, the definition has not yet been set in stone, so to speak. Another example of a "gold song" would be Heart of Gold by Neil Young.

This particular gold song, Seminole Wind, specifically mentions "days of old" and men digging for gold and silver, after which they "leave the empty holes," i.e. mine shafts, glory holes, or open pits. The song particularly emphasizes a couple negative aspects of gold and mining, though it really focuses on a hope that the Seminole Wind, and possibly the ghost of Osceola, will come and blow currently existing things to shit. (At least that's my interpretation.)

And so, when you happen to be gathering in places where the wind can blow ferociously—for example in Florida, in tornado country and the Midwest in general, in the Mojave Desert, and even in Nevada—watch out.

Dust Storm at The Needle Rocks, Pyramid Lake

It was a very windy day as I drove south along what's variably called the Surprise Valley Road or the Sand Pass Road (and to the north, is often called the Smoke Creek Road) into the Pyramid Lake Paiute Tribe's Reservation.

Various signs at the north entrance to the reservation.

I could see the dust -- and the faded outline of the Lake Range beyond the curve. The signs are located at the north end of Reservation Route 2, according to this map. I wasn't really thinking about the names of the ranges or the numbers of the road while driving, I was really focused mostly on the wind and dust!

Soon, The Needle Rocks came into view.

A modified view, as if I were still into shooting B&W film.

Now we can see the bright turquoise color of Pyramid Lake. And still the dust.

I'd highly recommend not going out the The Needles in such a storm (and besides, it is closed these days) -- a few of the higher shorelines of the lake (of Lake Lahontan) are composed of tiny snail shells (Pyrgulopsis nevadensis, photos here, here, and here) -- and you really don't want those sharp tiny things caught in your eye!

The wind was really whipping up the dust.

Looking back from farther south.

I had a pretty good view of part of the Terraced Hills beyond the dust, and could see part of Wizards Beach and Wizards Cove, but most of the individual rocks at The Needles were well obscured (USGS TNM 2.0 Viewer map). The wind looked to be blowing in from the west or northwest.

A closeup from the same place, with a good view of rock 3935 out in the lake, and an obscured view of the tip of The Needles and tufa mound 4107.

And finally, I looked back across Thunderbolt Bay from near a green area marked Pyramid (USGS TNM 2.0 Viewer map, USGS GNIS locale "Pyramid").

Photos from a road trip taken on March 31, 2015.

Escape from the July 20 Haboob in Western Nevada

At 3:37 pm, July 20th, my phone made a strange and loud noise in my pocket, and I took it out to find the first of two emergency alerts that I would receive from the National Weather Service.

The first NWS alert, for the Lovelock area, is on the bottom.

Besides the emergency alert sound, similar to that of the emergency broadcast system on radio and TV, the "Severe" and "Avoid travel" were phrases that caught the attention of the two geologists working that day, geologists who were hoping to leave in about an hour, but not particularly sooner.

UPDATE 29Jul2014: Also note that the Severe Alerts above mentioned "Dust Storm," not using the word "Haboob," which according to Wikipedia is derived from the Arabic word habūb, meaning "blasting/drafting." (I've seen other, similar derivations and translations of Arabic words and don't know which are most accurate.) Nevertheless, as you will see below, what we were about to witness was a huge dust storm with a miles-long wall of dust, often called a haboob in many parts of the world, including Arizona.

Our first glance outside wasn't too encouraging with regard to travel.

First view of the haboob on the east side of the valley: a wall of dust coming up from the south.

After looking around outside, we rushed to put things in order, piled into a truck, and left town. We didn't really want to hang around until 8 pm or whenever visibility would return.

To begin with, I thought the dust was a fairly localized phenomenon coming from the Humboldt Sink, which is about 10 to 15 miles southwest of Lovelock, or perhaps it was coming from the combined Humboldt and Carson Sinks. The Carson Sink is the very large sink for the Carson River, located 15 to 35 miles south of Lovelock, beyond the West Humboldt Range. I'd never seen the Humboldt Sink kick up quite this much dust on its own, so I had to entertain a larger possibility.

Shot of the haboob approaching Lovelock from the south. In this shot it has started to ride up over the south end of the Trinity Range beyond I-80, thereby already having overridden I-80 out near Toulon.

Three stitched-together photos of the same wall of dust, taken at 3:52 pm as we were scrambling to leave. The dust was already encroaching onto trees usually in view to the south.

As we got onto the on ramp for I-80, the dust looked like it would shortly pass over the Golden Gate truck stop (shown as Port of Subs and only approximately located by Google on this map)

A first look back at the dust after getting on I-80.

Many of the next shots (and the one above) were taken looking into the side mirror on the passenger side of the truck (the one that says "Objects In Mirror Are Closer Than They Appear"). I've reversed these mirror shots to show more accurately the shape of the hills and mountains behind us as we drove north and northeast toward Winnemucca.

The haboob is now about to overrun the Lovelock L in the southern Humboldt Range (Google Maps location of the L).

Somewhere between the Oreana and Rye Patch exits, I could see that the wall of dust had gone past Coal Canyon (Google Maps location) and was steadily moving northward.

Just past Rye Patch, it looked like the dust storm had fully moved into Rochester Canyon (Google Maps location) and possibly, though not clearly, into Limerick Canyon (marked as "Lovelock-Unionville Road" by Google on the previous map).

Shot of the haboob from just northeast of Humboldt House. The trees are at Humboldt House; the small reddish hill on the left is one of the heap leach piles at Florida Canyon.

When we rounded the corner at Humboldt House (Google Maps location) and the Florida Canyon Mine, the sight of the huge wall of dust engulfing the Trinity Range behind us reminded me of a giant pyroclastic cloud (not that I've ever seen one IRL). The dust was billowing and looked like it was eating everything it its path.

The haboob approaches a small rain shower in the Trinity Range.

Dust in Buena Vista Valley. The TA truckstop near the Mill City exit is visible in the distance to the right (west) of I-80.

As we went past the Unionville exit (behind us in the photo above), dust was rising from Buena Vista Valley beyond the low, brownish hills near the Star Point Trading Post and RV park, and I thought that all we were seeing was non-haboob from Buena Vista Valley and possibly from the Carson Sink.

At this point in this photo-log, you might notice that some photos are oversharpened, due to motion, relative darkness, and an obviously improper ASA (ISO) setting by the photographer. I probably should have switched to an ASA of 800 or higher, and was probably using a normally adequate setting of 400.

Another view of dust in Buena Vista Valley and the east side of the Humboldt Range. The trees are at the constantly closed Cosgrave rest stop
(Google Maps location).

A centered view of the Humboldt Range looking south-southwest down I-80.
The tiny-looking, triangular knob in the broad central part of the range is Thunder Mountain. Star Peak is the high point to the left; the high point to the right is probably Van Zant Peak.

I could now see dust on both sides of the Humboldt Range, and I began to suspect that there was only one dust storm.

Dust now appears to be coming over the top of the Humboldt Range in the gaps between Thunder Mountain and Star and Van Zant Peaks.

All three peaks top 9000 feet, with Star Peak coming in at 9840 ft or 2999 m. The valley floors on either side of the range are at about 4150 to 4500 feet, and Imlay sits at 4200 feet (< 1300 m) just north of the north end of the range (Imlay at MSRMaps).

Looking back at our final view of the Humboldt Range as we approach the Rose Creek exit just east of Winnemucca.

The haboob (above) has now moved fully into the valley of the Humboldt River at Imlay, and it looks like it's about to start riding up the south flank of the Eugene Mountains on the far right (Google Maps location of Imlay, with the Eugene Mountains to the north). Dust is coming around both sides of the Humboldt Range to potentially merge into one wall at the north end of the range. At about this time, I received the second of my wireless alerts (first image at the beginning of the post).

As we approach Winnemucca, dust is rising in Grass Valley ahead of a thunderstorm coming in from the south.

Dust devil in Grass Valley.

Dust in Grass Valley on the right, and what appears to be dust beyond the low, north end of the Sonoma Range, somewhere out near Golconda.

A shot more clearly showing that some of the dust is rising east of the Sonoma Range rather than being confined to Grass Valley.
This last photo was taken at 4:52 pm.

Until we rounded the corner going into Winnemucca near the Rose Creek exit, we had experienced no wind (or very minor wind, especially compared to the usual norms), and there had been absolutely none when we left work just ahead of the wall of dust. Now, the wind was strong from the south or southeast, and we were glad to have arrived in town just barely ahead of the main part of the dust storm. I settled into the apt, and, looking out the front and back windows every now and then, I noticed persistent though mostly patchy dust and a short-term disappearance of Winnemucca Mountain to the north — nothing like the wall of dust we had seen earlier! It rained later, and the next day we found out that winds had been strong upon the arrival of the haboob in Lovelock, strong enough to knock down tree branches. Streets were wet and puddled at work the next morning, and life went back to normal, albeit with less haze and fire-related smoke, which had been prevalent before the storms.

I had immediately, upon arrival at the apt, looked up the satellite photo for the area to see if the passage of the haboob could be seen. I thought maybe it could:

Visible satellite image for 23:30 Z, or 4:30 pm PDT.

What I noticed while running the loop that ended with this image, was that apparent wind and dust movement was to the north all along a zone across northwestern Nevada (above, from about Reno to north of Battle Mountain). Also, outward from Nevada and the Basin and Range in a very large circular "front," the many patches of combined storms, clouds, and dust appeared to be moving broadly or generally away from the center of Utah or an ill-defined area in northern Arizona. I don't know whether this was all part of the same storm system, but below I've drawn in bright cyan what I think was the approximate line of the haboob with trailing and collapsing (?) thunderstorms behind it, and I've put in a few arrows showing apparent drift of wind, dust, and clouds in bright magenta:

Cartoon of possible location of haboob across northwestern Nevada in cyan; wind directions as apparently indicated by moving dust and storms are shown by magenta arrows. These are my interpretations only and have not been verified by a meteorologist.

Dust hit Lovelock shortly after 3:55 pm; dust was moving across I-80 in Winnemucca by 4:50 pm; dust was about to move into Gerlach in a big way as of 5:57 pm. I didn't find a lot about the haboob online, although it was mentioned by a few local news broadcasts that I can't access, and was mentioned in this RGJ news story. There were a few pictures, a blog post, and two videos of people on I-80 driving farther into the storm than I would have thought wise. The first video in particular shows the movement of the dust storm fairly well; the second shows somewhat more prudent driving.

The original weather alert by the NWS for Churchill County "INCLUDING PYRAMID LAKE-INCLUDING THE CITIES OF. FERNLEY. FALLON. LOVELOCK. SILVER SPRINGS" and remaining in effect until 8 pm is archived here; the original NWS alert for Humboldt County "INCLUDING THE FOLLOWING LOCATIONS. WINNEMUCCA. MCDERMITT. PARADISE VALLEY. GOLCONDA SUMMIT" and remaining in effect until 11 pm is archived here.

How to drive in a haboob or large dust storm (STOP DRIVING!!: DO NOT ENTER THE STORM!! DO NOT USE FLASHERS!! Pull farther off the road than shown in the above videos — ALL the way over past the paved or flat to sloping shoulder! READ THE PAGE AT THE LINK!!).

More about Wireless Emergency Alerts (WEA).
Wikipedia on haboobs.
The Northern Nevada Haboob (of May 22, 2014).

P.S. This is my 1004th post!

More Dust, More Devils

After lunch, I resumed my dusty, devilish trip and drove south-southwest on what used to be old U.S. 40, going under the overpass that I-80 now uses to bypass Lovelock.

As I leave town, a large dust storm looms in the distance beyond the overpass.

Old highway 40 continues on past Lovelock, as I gradually — at the speed limit of 55 mph! — approach the storm.

I always enjoy driving by this lone cottonwood (Google Maps location).

In the picture, you can now clearly see how closely this remanent section of 40 is paralleled by I-80, over there on the right→ (signs are on I-80, as is the semi).

I've now turned more to the southwest, and I have a better view of the dust storm. The dust is blowing along and rising from the Humboldt Sink, end point to the 310-mile long Humboldt River.

Old highway 40 and I-80, side by side, heading southwest toward Toulon.

Granite Point, a smallish ridge of granite on the west flank of the Trinity Range, is just beyond the dark exposure to the right (north) of I-80, which might be basalt. Straight down the road, we're looking more or less toward the center (or south of center?) of the Ragged Top caldera, which was featured somewhat here and here (earlier posts) and in these comments.

Another view of the dust storm on the Humboldt Sink, with sand dunes of Lake Lahontan (Fallon or Turupah Formation? — Geolex does not include all the references about these two formations) and the railroad in the foreground. 

The old tungsten mill at Toulon, with the dust storm raging in the background. 

According to the most recent GSN field trip guide, the mill at Toulon was used over the years (since before World War I) to process tungsten from nearby mining districts including those at Nightingale, Ragged Top, Mill City, and Oreana (Nightingale is off to the west, and Oreana and Mill City are quite a ways to the northeast). It was also used to process arsenic during World War I, and was later used for antimony and gold ores (not sure from where).

A dust devil at the leading edge of the storm, with the West Humboldt Range finally visible across the playa. 

I leave old highway 40 to return to I-80 at the Toulon exit. The old highway can be followed farther on toward the Humboldt Dike gravel bar (location), where at least one trace of the old road gets wiped out or overprinted by 80.

Another view of the Humboldt Sink and West Humboldt Range from I-80.

Looking back. 

I've now passed the gravel bar and Highway 95 exit for the Carson Sink and Fallon. The storm can be seen behind me; the Forty Mile Desert is just south of me beyond I-80.

A dust devil, leaning in the still roaring wind, on the Forty Mile Desert. 

Tumbleweeds roll out to try to block my path. 

Dust blowing wildly just east of Nightingale Hot Springs (interesting write-up about Nightingale, Toulon, and Oreana here at Backyard Traveler by Rich Moreno — a blog well worth reading if you want to learn more about Nevada). 

A distant devil off across the salt flats near Fernley. 

My journey continued onward past Fernley and Wadsworth, into the canyon of the Truckee River, where I was too busy fighting the gusty winds to grab any shots of dust or devils.

It Was a Devilish Sort of Day

Last week when I drove southwest on I-80 through western Nevada, the wind was blowing strongly from the southwest, gusting to 39-44 mph. The drive was challenging (or horrendous, depending on your POV) in a jeep with a metal rack.

Dust devil blowing northeast across the north end of Rye Patch Reservoir, probably across the Upper or Lower Pitt-Taylor Reservoir.

Even the devils were having a hard time: they were blowing rapidly across the terrain and were often going to pieces before they could really form.

As I rounded the corner at Humboldt House and the Florida Canyon Mine, I realized that the usually visible West Humboldt Range was nowhere in sight to the south.

Visibility was reported as 10 miles, but in places it was much less!

Poorly formed dust devils in a mass of dust near the junction of the Limerick Canyon and Rochester Canyon roads in the Humboldt Range near the Oreana exit (Oreana millsite).

Because of the strong and gusty winds, I decided to get off at the Oreana exit and head south on a still usable alignment of old U.S. 40, which is no longer signed anywhere in Nevada but is still drivable in places.

Here, we're looking southwest along one alignment of old Highway 40; a second, non-drivable sub-parallel alignment of 40 is running in the bushes just to the right of this paved alignment.

You can see a semi or two on I-80 in the right part of the photo. The paved road ends by being cut off by I-80 just at the horizon.

A locally known cutoff will take you from old 40 through a tunnel beneath I-80.

On the west side of the single-vehicle tunnel, I turned left to follow the frontage road south towards Lovelock.

I'm now driving southwest on the frontage road on the west side of I-80, which is right there on my left. Part of an immense dust storm can be seen beyond the local horizon.

The frontage road is now about to cross one alignment of old Highway 40 and join with a second. Dust is strongly diminishing the visibility (10 miles?!?).

In the above photo, I-80 is still to the left. At the corner ahead, the frontage road will join with a drivable segment of old 40, one that was still in use when I moved to Nevada in the 1970s. An older alignment of old 40, still partly paved, can be seen as a faint, sage-colored line between the corner ahead and the bridge crossing the railroad just right of center (above).

Now I'm on that bridge, on one alignment of old 40, looking south toward EP Minerals' Colado Plant, which processes diatomaceous earth (DE) and perlite. 

The non-drivable alignment of old 40 runs indistinctly toward the plant through the bushes ahead of us (above) or on the west side of the tracks, although it seems to get lost somewhere in this area. Judging from Google Maps, there may be two old and barely passable (to impassable) alignments of old 40 in this area, besides the paved one I'm driving on, with the one we saw in the last photo running straight for the EP plant. Or, perhaps there was just one older alignment. I'm not sure where the older alignment(s) crossed the railroad.

Some of the dust is coming off piles of DE at the Colado plant.

This is a part of old 40 that I remember from my first years in Nevada, the stretch approaching Lovelock, lined with tall cottonwoods.

I think of the old days every time I drive this section of old Highway 40.

I'm now approaching the overpass that used to put us onto the built part of I-80 in the 70s-80s, when the bypass around Lovelock hadn't yet been constructed.

Dust storm in downtown Lovelock.

A dust devil off to the northeast, as seen from a truck stop parking lot near downtown Lovelock.

I ate a quick lunch, and continued on into the near gale-force winds and dust afterward.