
Dear Sagebrush Sally,
With the new off-road season gearing up at Dumont Dunes, a lot of us in Tecopa are feeling the ripple effects—some good, some not so good. The influx of off-highway vehicle (OHV) riders brings a big boost to local businesses, especially food and lodging. But it also means more traffic, more dust, more noise, and sometimes, more conflict with folks who come here seeking peace and quiet instead of horsepower.
I know tourism is a lifeline for our little desert town, but it sometimes feels like we’re caught between two versions of Tecopa—the tranquil hot springs haven and the off-road weekend outpost. How do we strike a balance between welcoming visitors from Dumont Dunes and protecting the slower pace and natural beauty that make this place special?
— Stuck Between the Springs and the Sand
Dear Stuck Between the Springs and the Sand,
You’re right—the sound of the season shifts when Dumont Dunes wakes up. The hum of OHVs starts echoing across the valley, RVs stack up on Highway 127, and Tecopa’s quiet rhythm gets stirred by the pulse of engines and adventure. For some, it’s a thrill. For others, it’s a headache. But either way, it’s part of the life cycle of this desert.
Dumont brings dollars, no doubt about it. Riders stop here for water, meals, our dump station, and sometimes a soak before heading home. That tourism helps keep doors open and lights on through the slower months. But it also brings pressure—on our roads, our air, our patience, and our sense of peace. The challenge is that Tecopa and Dumont draw two very different kinds of visitors: one comes for speed and sand, the other for stillness and springs. Yet both are drawn to the same wide desert, and both have a right to enjoy it responsibly.
The balance starts with respect—on both sides. Riders need to remember they’re guests in a fragile landscape and a living community, not just a backdrop for their weekend. Locals need to remember that not every roar from across the valley is an invasion; sometimes it’s just part of what keeps the town alive. The key is insisting on boundaries that protect both peace and prosperity.
If the noise, dust, or unsafe driving spill into town, say something—to the county, the BLM, or even directly to event organizers. Most riders don’t want to cause harm; they just need reminders of where the line is. And if you own a business, there’s no shame in setting expectations: post clear signs, promote responsible recreation, and make respect part of the welcome.
Tecopa has always been a place of contrasts—mud and salt, silence and song, fire and water. The trick isn’t choosing one over the other; it’s learning to let them coexist. If we can manage that—if we can welcome the dunes without losing the springs—then maybe we’ll find that the desert’s strength lies not in choosing sides, but in holding space for both.
— Sagebrush Sally
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