Fort Irwin & Beyond
A geoglyph is a ground design created by arranging or removing surface materials so the figure appears when viewed from above. In desert settings, this usually means placing or clearing pavement stones, exposing lighter soil, or scraping shallow lines that catch low-angle light. Mojave examples tend to occupy quiet, stable surfaces such as old lake margins, bajadas, ridgelines, and mesa tops. Their age is difficult to determine without stratified artifacts, and they usually appear in liminal settings that suggest signaling, marking, ceremony, or boundary use.
Mojave Desert geoglyphs are scattered and subtle, blending with the surface rather than dominating it. They are created by repositioning varnished stones or removing surface layers, forming sinuous lines, circles, meanders, keyhole forms, and occasionally serpentine figures. Most notable examples can be found in the eastern and central Mojave, where travel corridors, ancient water sources, and basin edges converge. Documented sites are located at Fort Irwin, along the Amargosa drainage, near the Lower Colorado River region, and within ancient lake basins such as Cronese, Soda, and Silver. These figures are commonly twenty to sixty feet long or wide. They are not dramatic from the ground; they reveal their form from oblique or aerial views. Many alignments appear to mark direction, vantage, or symbolic forms rooted in local cultural landscapes. Research is limited by erosion, restricted access to lands, and the scarcity of datable material.
Geoglyphs at Fort Irwin became known only after archaeologists expanded survey work into newly added training lands. Earlier work on the site documented petroglyphs, pictographs, and small rock circles, but newer surveys revealed another category of rock art: broad surface alignments set directly into the desert pavement. These geoglyphs consist of fist-sized stones arranged into straight lines, curves, swirls, and branching patterns covering portions of pavement roughly a quarter of an acre in size. They sit so low and blend so closely in tone with the surrounding ground that they remain almost invisible until someone familiar with desert varnish and pavement structure points them out. Artifacts and oxidation patterns provide relative age clues, though no firm dates are given.
Archaeologists describe the Mojave landscape as highly readable, with scars, signals, and surface changes preserved by aridity. In this setting, rock alignments are found on stable pavements, old lake margins, and gentle rises where water once flowed across the ground. Fort Irwin sits within that framework: ancient lake basins, remnant shorelines, and corridors that once linked seasonal camps. Nearby lithic scatters suggest long-term movement associated with water, game, and travel. Interpretations of the geoglyphs remain limited. Some broken quartzite fragments hint at possible ceremonial use, but the exact meaning remains unknown. Cultural memory tied to such features has not survived, and researchers avoid overreaching beyond what the land itself reveals.
Within the broader Goldstone basin sector of the installation, survey data also note a low ridge with surface materials arranged into a curving alignment that may represent a stylized serpent or directional form. Its placement on a quiet slope between pavement and basin edge fits a familiar Mojave pattern in which subtle figures mark routes, thresholds, or vantage points without leaving associated domestic remains. Features of this kind are typically visible only from an angled view, where dark varnished stones contrast with lighter soil. Because the land is part of an active training area, precise locations are protected, and access is restricted to guided visits. As with other prehistoric sites on the post, Fort Irwin treats these alignments as resources to be safeguarded.
Together, the abstract pavement figures and the additional curving alignment illustrate how ancient travelers marked the basin edges and crossings of the central Mojave. They show that even in a landscape that seems empty at first glance, the ground carries the record of movement, gathering, and intention shaped into the surface itself.