The pre-dawn chill was biting, a familiar cold that seeps into everything, but the horizon was ablaze with an otherworldly glow. Pulling back the tent flap on the Alvord Playa, the spectacle was undeniable – sunrise over this vast, cracked expanse demands attention, even if it meant braving the freezing air before retreating to the warmth of my sleeping bag.
The frigid night had everyone moving at different paces. Some, like Nate, were early risers, drawn out by the promise of the day. Others, like Ben and Will, lingered in their tents, battling the cold for a few more precious moments of warmth. By 8 AM, however, the allure of the playa in daylight, with the majestic Steens Mountain backdrop, had everyone up and about, especially exciting for those experiencing this unique landscape for the first time.
Ben, in a moment of spontaneous energy, decided to take his truck for a spin on the vast open space. It wasn’t about speed, more like a playful exploration of the playa’s surface. Venice, his canine travel companion, was quick to join the impromptu adventure, not wanting to be left behind in the stillness of the morning camp.
Breakfast followed, a mix of quick and elaborate. While we opted for the simplicity of cereal and granola bars, Nate was in full culinary mode, crafting what smelled like incredible breakfast burritos for the others. This communal cooking was a refreshing change, a shared experience that added a different dynamic to our group adventure, a pleasant contrast to the usual individual meal preps.
It was during breakfast that Nate unveiled his drone. Drones still hold a certain novelty, sparking curiosity and, if I’m honest, a touch of apprehension from me. While I appreciate the technology and the stunning perspectives they offer, I was hoping our day wouldn’t devolve into a series of drone launches and staged vehicle shots. We had a genuine purpose for being on the Alvord Playa, and I was eager to keep our focus. As luck would have it, the drone’s SD card was missing, grounding any aerial photography plans for the moment.
With the drone temporarily sidelined, we turned our attention to the unique allure of the Alvord Playa: speed. Describing the sensation of driving flat-out across this dry lakebed is challenging. The world immediately around you blurs as you push your vehicle to 80+ mph, yet distant landmarks remain seemingly fixed, creating a disorienting but exhilarating experience. It’s a surreal kind of freedom, a chance to unleash the vehicles in a landscape that stretches to the horizon.
We spent a good hour, maybe more, tracing seemingly random paths across the playa. Our GPS track would likely resemble abstract art, a chaotic scribble across the digital map. But our seemingly aimless driving had a purpose, a mission that was deeply personal. Just months prior, on August 27th, this very playa became the site of tragedy. Jessi Combs, a remarkable racer and automotive personality, came here to challenge the women’s land speed record, a record set on this very ground in 1976 by Kitty O’Neil. Driving the North American Eagle, Jessi aimed to surpass that historic mark. Tragically, her attempt ended in an accident at speeds exceeding 550 mph, taking her life. Jessi Combs, a figure admired for her skill, determination, and passion, was gone too soon.
Our drive across the Alvord wasn’t just for the thrill of speed; it was a pilgrimage. We were searching for the tangible remnants of Jessi Combs’ final run, a way to connect with her spirit and pay our respects. In the southwest corner of the playa, our search ended. There, etched into the surface, were the unmistakable tracks – three distinct impressions marking Jessi’s last passes.
Making one last, slow pass, we followed the tracks to their northeast terminus. She had used every inch of available playa in her pursuit of speed. We paused there, at the end of the tracks, a silent moment of reflection, trying to imagine the incredible forces and emotions that converged at this spot. After a time, we continued our journey, carrying with us the weight and inspiration of that discovery.
With noon approaching, our next destination was a prominent landmark, Big Sand Gap. Formed during the Ice Age when a massive lake filled this basin, Big Sand Gap is where the water eventually breached, unleashing a cataclysmic flood down the Snake and Columbia Rivers. Joined by three more trucks, we hoped this route would offer redemption after a previous trip where we faced some vehicle recovery challenges.
Reaching the gap was straightforward this time, and with the sun high above, it seemed the perfect spot for lunch. The view back across the Alvord Playa, with Steens Mountain ever-present, was an unmatched dining backdrop. We set up chairs, made sandwiches, and simply absorbed the panorama.
Refueled and rested, it was time to air down the tires. Playa driving benefits from full pressure, but the road eastward demanded a softer ride. Experience guided our decision.
The initial section was easy going, as expected. The road through Big Sand Gap was well-traveled and in good condition. The real test, we anticipated, lay further ahead, where we had previously encountered challenging muddy conditions.
The landscape soon hinted at past struggles. Though dry now, the plateau bore the marks of recent saturation, evidence of muddy quagmires from winter and spring. Deep ruts scarred the ground, remnants of previous passage attempts.
But today, it was dry, and the ruts posed no threat.
Navigating a particularly flexy section, Will’s vehicle momentarily adopted a three-wheeled stance, showcasing the terrain’s unevenness.
Not to be outdone, Ben replicated the maneuver, adding his signature flourish of a wheel turn while his passenger-side front wheel was airborne. Classic Ben!
Soon we passed the unremarkable site of our previous misadventure. A quick photo captured nothing of the drama from six months prior; time and weather had erased the traces of our stuck vehicles.
Beyond that point, we knew it was smooth sailing. Even in the wetter spring conditions, this section of the road had been trouble-free. We increased speed, enjoying the few remaining puddles on the road.
We emerged from the Big Sand Gap road, not the most challenging or scenic, but a satisfying route to complete. It was only the initial leg of a 90-mile loop planned for the day, with more ground to cover.
Our planned counter-clockwise loop around the Alvord Desert encountered an unexpected obstacle: locked gates. Two gates, spanning minimal private land surrounded by BLM, forced a 30-mile detour north on the highway before we could turn west again towards Mickey Basin and Hot Springs.
Around this time, fuel levels became a topic of radio chatter. Will and Nate, relying on their last fill-up from Boise, were running low. Just as Will’s truck began to sputter, both decided it was time for a Jerry can refuel.
Fuel concerns addressed (or so we thought), we continued on. The landscape transitioned to sage desert, but the drive remained enjoyable. We passed a remarkably picturesque cattle watering hole, and the open terrain and decent roads allowed for brisk speeds, maintaining safe distances between vehicles in the dust.
Due to the earlier detour, it was past 5 PM when we reached Mickey Hot Springs. With the sun dipping towards the horizon, we had made minimal stops, skipping some potential exploration spots for a future trip.
Mickey Hot Springs, however, was non-negotiable. Discovered relatively recently in 1992 when a bubbling pool transformed into a geyser, it quickly gained fame as Oregon’s only natural geyser. Each visit reveals a different level of geothermal activity, fluctuating with seasons and rainfall. This fall visit showed moderate activity. Some pools bubbled, sending water jets a foot or two into the air, but the vibrant colors often seen in the pools were less pronounced this time. The water temperature averages a scalding 180°F, and the ground itself radiated warmth – immersion was definitely not on the agenda.
We lingered at Mickey Hot Springs until the last sliver of daylight. Sunset on the playa is always a captivating experience, and with only a 20-minute drive to complete our loop, we set off. About five minutes from reaching the playa, Ben’s voice crackled over the CB, “Guys, I’m out of fuel.”
Driving tailgunner, Ben had run his tank dry. The rest of us pulled over as he added another 5 gallons – a refueling stop he probably should have taken earlier with the others.
As we finally rolled onto the Alvord Playa, the sun had dipped below the western horizon, and the moon was just cresting Big Sand Gap to the east.
We drove towards our chosen campsite as the sky transformed with the last light. Clouds above us ignited in vibrant hues. We piled out of the trucks, cameras clicking, capturing the fleeting spectacle as our vehicles idled forward in a slow 4Lo race towards the darkening horizon.
As the clouds surrendered their color, the impromptu photoshoot concluded. The short, “undriven” distance our trucks had covered placed us perfectly for the night’s camp.
Dinner preparations coincided with building a campfire – my first ever on the playa. It was glorious. The fire battled back the night’s chill, casting a warm glow as we gathered around, sharing stories of the day and plans for departure, the flames mirroring the camaraderie of our group under the vast desert sky.
October 13, 2019.
Clear skies had blessed the trip so far, offering beautiful sunrises, albeit limited to the classic orange and pink horizon hues. Our final morning, however, promised something extraordinary, and I was ready to brave the cold once more. Peeking out of the tent at 6:15 AM, it was clear this sunrise would be special, worth any amount of chill.
The sun eventually ascended, as it always does, its brilliance washing out the intense colors. Yet, the view across the cracked playa towards Steens Mountain remained captivating, a sight that never loses its impact, no matter how many times I witness it.
Our campfire discussions the previous night established that @mrs.turbodb and I would depart first, our 10-hour drive demanding an earlier start. But that didn’t curtail our morning camaraderie. We all lingered, chatting and playing with Venice before the goodbyes.
We also conducted pre-departure vehicle checks. @mrs.turbodb inflated tires, I topped off the fuel tank, and Ben addressed a suspected alignment issue by removing his front wheel.
This proved to be a crucial check. Ben discovered his rear cam on the lower control arm was completely loose – a potentially serious issue at highway speeds, averted just in time.
With vehicles prepped and time pressing, we could no longer delay. Hugs, handshakes, and farewell wishes were exchanged, and we set off in our separate directions. As dust billowed behind us, Steens Mountain shrinking in the mirrors, I turned to @mrs.turbodb, “I can’t wait to come back next time.” The Alvord Playa, with its stark beauty and poignant history, had already begun to call us back.
