Death Valley - Part I

In 1849, the throngs of bipeds swept across the West for the Sierras in search of riches. Some of these '49ers hoped for a better way of life, some desired the riches of kings, while others just sought adventure.

In typical American fashion, a number of these journeymen were determined to take a short-cut from the established paths, through a mountainous region with high peaks and extremely low valleys.

In that year, only a handful made it out alive. As one of these parties exited the valley, they exclaimed, "Good-bye Death Valley!"

The name stuck. Death has a way of making a lasting impression.

In 2006 I chuckled at the thought of the Big Chill while driving in a brand new AWD, air-conditioned car--on a paved road--into one of the most spectacular sites I've ever seen. Death Valley seemed to be more a place of ruggedly-handsome contrasts; a vast region of expanses that stimulated the senses to almost the same degree as an all-access pass to Jenna Jameson on my birthday. The replentishment of fluids would be paramount for survival--in Death Valley of course.

Here is Golden Canyon. A hostile canyon that, even on a mildly overcast day in April, produced temperatures over 90-degrees. It was eerily still, yet all the contrasting colors resulting from the oxidation of various minerals intertwined in the sediment. The trail began in the valley around sea-level, and wound around up and over a small pass to Zabriskie Point (2 mi.). If you aren't the hiking type, you can drive to each point from the front and back sides. But if you drive, you miss shots such as these.

From there we headed down the typical tourist route towards Badwater (the lowest point in North America). On the way is a short little loop drive called Artists Palette. The origin of its name is a complete mystery to me.

For you sciene geeks who simply MUST know why all of these mountains were painted with beautiful colors here you go:

Speaking of science, here is another specimen who, although a bionic wonder to the world, still can't match his clothes:

Could you see my lower abdominal region? Really? If you couldn't it is because I was wearing cammo to hide me from preditors or scary creatures like, um, bats.

On to the lowest point in North America!

Here I am embarking on a solo expedition to the middle of the salt-deposit-ridden valley, which spans about 25-30 miles. I only made it about quarter-of-a-mile.

Look for the speck in the middle of this picture. I was being blasted by a 25-mph, 90-degree wind. I was removing salt from orpheses I didn't know I had for many days after.

I mentioned earlier about Death Valley being a land of contrasts. Standing at -280 ft, we took these pictures of Telescope Peak (11,000 ft) right in front of us. I wanted to climb this bad boy, but maybe next year:

Then, about an hour later, we drove to the top of recently re-opened for the summer, Dantes View. The temperature dropped from 90-degrees in Badwater to 49-degrees at 5,000-plus ft. The light 25-mph breeze ramped up to 60-70 mph on the summit. My traveling companion and I tried to climb out onto the ridge only to get blown back. I think if we climbed on our hands and knees we could have made it, but as you can see here, jackets make nice parachutes:

In this picture, I am laughing and scoffing at the wind. Apparently the wind doesn't like it when you laugh at its expense. Later that night as I tried to set up the tent, I ended up with an ultra-light pole that permanently ended up in the shape of a fish hook. This way my first real trip with my new tent, so you can imagine the warm fuzzies I was enveloped with when that happened. Good thing we brought lots of beer and wine for the campsite.

So enough of this driving around and being a tourist nonsense. While we were hiking up Golden Canyon, we ran into a 50-year old lady that looked like she'd come right of the beach in Florida. Dyed red-hair, leather skin and chic bubble sunglasses, we stopped on the trail to chat. She comes to Death Valley every year and I got the opportunity to ask her what her favorite place in the valley was. I don't remember exactly what she said, but here is a loose adaptation:

Lady: Do you have 4WD?

Me: Uh, huh.

Lady: Then the best place is the Keane Wonder Mine. It is about 50 miles north of here and it has the best views in the valley.

Me: I don't know whether to shake your hand or kiss you.

Lady: Pucker-up sonny.

Trekking up a mountain, plus the chance to engage in some rental car abuse was just way too tempting. Tomorrow I'll finish what was the highlight of the trip for me in Part II.

Posted by 10 fingers 6 strings at May 8, 2006 08:31 AM | TrackBack