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Headquarters at Stovepipe Wells. Basic. I like it that way.
I woke up early in the morning; the plan being to go from below sea level, up to Wildrose, where the climb stops just above 8100 feet. Round trip: 80 miles.
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I rode down the hill until I was at least three feet (minimum!) below sea level, and turned around to make it back up.
Unlike... well pretty much every climb I'd ever been on, this one really didn't have any switchbacks - it just, slowly and steadily, went up a lumbering mountainside.
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Fortunately the state of California put up signs indicating altitude every 1000 feet; Sea Level, 1000 feet, 2000 feet... what comes next? Oh wait, nothing. Man, I thought I'd have a great montage of pictures indicating altitude, but they stopped.
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These charcoal kilns are considered some of the best preserved anywhere, having been only used for a year or two before being abandoned. Gee, who wouldn't walk 100 miles across several mountains and a desert for a good deal on a bag of Charbroil? Who the hell is tailgating in the middle of a desert, anyway? What are they grilling? Who's bringing the beer?
Questions that, perhaps, the owners of the kilns should have considered before construction.
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Unfortunately, I didn't get all the way to the top; at about 8000 feet, the mud road turned to ice. Contrary to my usual lack-of-decision-making-ability, I did the intelligent thing, and turned around.
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And started the godawful descent.
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