From my first days planning this summer, I wanted to visit a particular remote hot spring in Nevada. Larry Crutcher, a longtime solar installer out of Yuma, Arizona, last year sent me a picture of some old graybeard (him) in a tub outdoors with mountains in the background, writing that it was one of his favorite places in the world. I asked for and received coordinates to the hot pool at Potts Ranch.

Then up at Barcroft a local refrigeration service person gave me directions to another hot springs in Fish Lake Valley, the valley east of White Mountain. Acting on these two tips, I began my return to New Mexico sampling some of the finest hot springs the Great Basin has to offer.

The whole rig – Jeep, BMW, trailer, bikes, and a hot pool.

The water flows into two ponds full of noisy mudhens.

The first has no official name – “about 10-12 miles north of Dyer, watch for a sign for the road up Chatovich Creek and go the other way for about seven miles.” Sure enough, those were good directions and I found the hot pool. I soaked in the evening, sharing conversation with the few others there. I camped on rocky ground a few hundred yards away, expecting to hear partygoers later, but the night remained quiet.

In the morning I was again alone, and enjoyed the hot water again – even dozed on my air mattress in the morning sun for awhile, waking to worry if I had just given myself a sunburned white ass. I filled the gas tank and the spare jerry can in Tonopah, then headed up a beautiful, desolate valley, one of the many that form the basin-and-range country of central Nevada.

Storefront ruins in Belmont. Many buildings are still standing.

There was one “town”, Belmont, with thirteen full-time residents. This was a ghost town from the 1870s, now attracting a few local characters, and more summer seasonals. What made it special to me was that the entire town was off grid, and there were familiar democacy racks of old PV modules all about – I saw maybe twenty systems with a few glances. After a beer in the only bar, a self-guided walking tour and a few photos I continued on, on dirt now.

As best I can tell, this is what’s left of the Potts Ranch homestead.

Potts Ranch is on the state road map, labeled “site”, if only because there’s plenty of room in that part of the map. The spot I sought is 30 miles from a paved road. The ranch had been abandoned decades ago.

I’ll call it Potts Ranch Hot Spring, but if it has a name I don’t know it.

Just past what looked to be the old farmhouse, past the cottonwoods and around a hill, was the hot spring. And what a fine one! 30 or 40 gallons a minute of perfect 106 degree water, captured in pipes that either filled the pool or bypassed it, and could be easily directed either way. The pool was a big plastic stock tank, and it only took 10-15 minutes to fill, which leaves it beautifully clean and free of algae.

If the black pipes are in the right trough (as now) the tub fills; left bypasses the tub.Very well thought out and very clean!

Likely the most peaceful spot for a hot tub I have ever known.

As I write this I’m camped maybe half a mile away, legal on public BLM land. It’s night now, and there is not a single artificial light in any direction in this hundred-mile-long valley. It’s a true to the spirit of the dark night sky as anywhere I have camped. The only exception is a slight glow to the south, which can only be Las Vegas, about 200 miles to the south, as the crow flies.

A long-abandoned homestead in Antelope Valley, Nevada.

Beautifully done stonework, and still standing. The stones were dry-laid with soil for mortar and no cement.