Our first destination would be the ruins of Fort Piute at mile 23.3, which to our dismay had been closed to all travelers due to a careless campfire that raged uncontrollably through the adjoining spring and near many of the historical remnants, such as the wooden corral structures and building foundations. On a journey thick with history, it is a shame to run across such closures. Up to this point, the road had been mostly sand, with jagged rocks taking over closer to Fort Piute.
Due to a Wilderness Area immediately behind the spring, leaving Fort Piute required us to reverse course a couple of miles and follow a different path to the south over the Piute Range and in to the homesteads and cattle country of Lanfair Valley, where we would reconnect with the Mojave Road at mile 31.1, over 3,000 feet above sea level. As the elevation increased, we started to see the storied Joshua trees appear, and for the next 40 miles we would be traveling through a thick forest of them. Joshua trees grow nowhere else in the world outside of California's Mojave Desert and are said to have been named by Mormon settlers who felt that the large plant resembled the prophet Joshua waving at them with his arms outreached toward the sky.
Strangely enough, it was almost these revered Joshua trees that would halt the forward progress of the mighty H1 and our small caravan. With a vehicle so wide, and ancient trees that had every intention on staying right where they set root, there were many close calls as the H1 squeezed past Joshua trees lining both sides of the trail. Fortunately, if we can take an H1 through the whole stretch of the Mojave Road relatively unscathed, just about anything narrower (which is just about anything) will make it.
At mile 41.3, we stopped to add a penny to the famous Penny Can, which dangles on a wire from the arm of an elderly Joshua tree. This is just one of many traditions that travelers embrace while on the Mojave Road. Since we were in the middle of nowhere and feeling a bit spiritual with all the surrounding beauty and such, we also chanted and did a nifty Four Wheeler dance to ward off evil spirits and vehicle breakage, although at least one of us was sure we got it wrong and instead did something requesting the comeback of the Daihatsu Rocky.
Passing through mile 49.3, we encountered the steep slope into Watson Wash, which was the first section of the road to require low-range for easy going. The only difficult part of this short section of rutted downslope is choosing a good stable line along the narrow path. Just across the wash lies Rock Spring (4,800 feet), which over the years has hosted an Army camp, homesteads, and a stop-off for travelers looking to hydrate in this stretch of desert. Rock Spring became historically important, mostly due to its placement along the trail, and shared its water equally with anyone who needed it.
After 50 miles on the trail and the sun settling in for the night, we attempted to post camp at Rock Spring, where we were greeted by a father-daughter campout, featuring over-protective off-duty police officer dads who immediately informed us of the guns they were carrying, evidently not buying our story that we were magazine guys looking for a place to relax for the night. We decided it was best not to mix sarcastic off-duty magazine editors and smores, so we headed down the trail about two miles, where we found the historical site of Government Holes vacant.