Introduction
It’s widely known that Death Valley, in California, is the
third most popular vacation spot in the world (the first two being Disneyland
and Paris, in that order). What’s not
always appreciated is how much misinformation there is about this tourist
mecca, such as the first sentence of this very post. Read on for answers to Frequently Asked
Questions about Death Valley, based on my recent vacation there.
Q. What is the WiFi password at Death Valley?
A. This is, by far,
the most frequently asked question. The
answer is, there generally isn’t one.
Certain businesses in Stovepipe Wells and Furnace Creek have WiFi, but
most of the time you’ll be driving around enjoying nature, and you won’t even
have cell phone coverage. This is a
great place to get away from the Internet, if you think your kids can handle it. Don’t forget your old-school road atlas, if you normally depend on GPS.
Q. How many people died in Death Valley, to give
it its name?
A. One. This was in 1849, when some miners got stuck
there. Probably more people have died
since. I think I remember hearing about
somebody trying to smuggle a corpse through there but was caught, due to the
corpse stinking in the heat. Actually,
now that I think about it, that was something that happened on Amtrak.
Q. Is Death Valley really the hottest place on
Earth?
A. Yes! For awhile it was thought that El Azizia,
Libya had that honor, but in 2012, according to this article, it was determined that “the observer [there] broke a more reliable
instrument and used a complicated and less reliable type of thermometer.” Details are hazy but I think the observer used
a rectal thermometer. (You’re supposed to
subtract a couple degrees with those.) In any event, when we visited recently, the temperature was pretty much perfect.
Q. Is Death Valley really the driest place on
Earth?
A. No, it’s not even
in the top ten. The driest place is in Antarctica,
and the driest non-polar place is the Atacama Desert in Chile. But Death Valley is the driest place
in North America, which is all anybody actually cares about. The rainiest month in Death Valley is March,
when they get about a third of an inch of rain (roughly the same amount the Bay
Area has been getting every day this year, I think).
Q. Would the below catastrophe ever happen in
Death Valley?
A. You mean this?
No, never. I snapped the above photo in Berkeley’s
Tilden Park recently. I managed to
abandon the bike before it [would have] tipped me over (or I’d have probably
drowned in the mud). If you’re sick of
wet weather, Death Valley is a great vacation spot.
Q. Is Death Valley really the lowest place on
Earth?
A. No, but its lowest
point, Badwater Basin, is the lowest place in the western hemisphere.
Look at the cordoned-off area just behind us in that
photo. That’s a salt pan, which is
basically salt shaped by wind into these sharp, sharp formations that are
between 1,000 and 9,000 feet deep. The
largest salt pan in Death Valley is called the Devil’s Golf Course, and while I
agree it would be terrible to golf there, it would be even worse to mountain
bike on it. Imagine if you crashed!
Q. Is Death Valley too hot to be an enjoyable
vacation spot?
A. If you enjoy
sitting in an air-conditioned RV, you could visit Death Valley at any time of
year and enjoy yourself. That said, it’s
hard to imagine wanting to hike when it’s 136 degrees out. One of the trailheads we saw had a sign
warning not to go there after 10 a.m.
(One of my surly teenagers tried to use this to get out of the
hike. Nice try ... it was only about 85
degrees that day.)
Q. That bit about the rectal thermometer? You have that exactly backwards. What gives?
A. Yeah, I know. Try not to over-think it.
Q. I have a print of that iconic Ansel Adams photo of Death Valley sand dunes. Are the
dunes as impressive in person?
A. Definitely! In fact, as good a photographer as Adams was,
it’s impossible to fully appreciate the Death Valley dunes just by looking at
the photos. At least, that’s what I have
been telling myself, so I can feel better about these more humble shots:
Q. What is a haboob?
A. A haboob is a
violent sandstorm. I don’t know if the
winds we experienced in Death Valley count, but anyway it’s fun to say
“haboob.” Right after our hike in the
dunes the wind picked up and we wondered if it would strip the paint off our
car. As usual, the following photos
don’t do it justice.
That’s the Devil’s Golf Course in the background of the
second photo, by the way.
Q. Was Mad Max – Fury Road filmed in Death Valley?
A. No, it wasn’t, but
we wondered the same thing. There’s a
deep canyon we hiked through to see this natural arch, which looked like where
the movie took place. I can just imagine
where they crashed the truck to block the pursuers. In fact, this area was so reminiscent of the
film, one of my kids sprayed silver paint all over her mouth and yelled, “I am
awaited in Valhalla!” (Full
disclosure: my kids haven’t actually seen
the movie.)
Q. Are the flowers as amazing as everybody says?
A. I think most of
the year you won’t see much. April there
is known to be amazing, and maybe it was ... but it wasn’t exactly what I’d
expected. Since it’s been such a wet
winter and our timing seemed perfect, I somehow had visions of being totally surrounded
by flowers, like in “Lucy in the Sky with Diamonds” (you know, “cellophane
flowers of yellow and green towering over your head,” etc.) but it’s not like
that. You mostly see sand and
rocks. But if you stop and look a little
closer, there are all kinds of flowering things. Look at this little dude popping up out of
the stones and gravel.
And you wanna see a cactus in full bloom? Feast your eyes on this!
This is a pretty weird plant, arguably in bloom as well:
These flowers aren’t that colorful but just look at the
dead-looking plant that has produced them:
What the hell is this thing? (That’s not a FAQ ... I’m asking you.)
This flowering plant is notable not just for growing
straight out of gravel, but for being so damn small it’s like, why even bother?
I’m not sure what counts as a flower but these little
puffballs are just darling.
Q. I’m not a giant flower fan. What else is worth looking at?
A. There are lots of
cool rocks. Quartz, amethyst, and so
forth, and also some big varicolored boulders.
Volcanic minerals (including hematite and chlorite), rich in iron,
aluminum, magnesium, and titanium (but oddly no copper) provide a lot of
color. Check it:
The mountains are pretty, especially in the evening:
The roads are pretty dramatic. Artist’s Drive twists around and has lots of
ups and downs that leave your stomach behind ... it would be really fun to
drive that on a Kawasaki Ninja at top speed, if you were an idiot with a death
wish. Here’s the road leading to where
we stayed at Panamint Springs:
You’ll also get to see Joshua trees. Gobs of them, forests even, and burnt ones.
Q. Is there good stargazing?
A. I guess for really
good stargazing you’d need a new moon.
Our visit happened to coincide with a full moon. That said, we were able to take a nice night
walk before the moon rose and saw more stars than usual. There still seemed to be a fair bit of light
pollution … maybe that was the unrisen moon?
Who knows. (What am I, an
astronomer?!)
Q. Is Death Valley a good place for Beck’sting?
A. Heck, anyplace that
allows beer is good for Beck’sting! If you camp, you’ll just need to
replenish the ice in your cooler regularly.
Also, you’ll have to settle for delayed Beck’sts since you won’t have
cellular connectivity. Here’s one of my
Beck’sts from the trip.
Q. Is there good wildlife viewing in Death
Valley?
A. I’ll start with
the bad news: we didn’t see any road
runners. That was a big letdown because
the so-called resort where we stayed (canvas tent on a concrete slab) had a
road runner as their logo.
That said, we did see some pretty groovy creatures. I’ll start with the sphinx moth, which has such
a giant body, and such lightning fast wings, that at first we thought they were
hummingbirds. To realize they were giant
insects gave us an uncanny feeling.
Unfortunately, they fly way too briskly and erratically for me to
photograph … believe me, I tried. Click
here for some great photos etc.
Then there were these birds that made an incredible
screeching one morning. Part of the
point here is the amazing zoom on my camera, which proves that non-phone pocket
cameras are not yet obsolete.
So what are those
black birds with the yellow heads? Why,
they’re yellow-headed blackbirds! The ones
with no yellow are either females or regular blackbirds (what am I, an
ornithologist?!), and I think the dark brown one is a juvenile.
Okay, on to something more exciting. This coyote was just moseying along near the
road. We weren’t as close as it looks
(again, the long zoom helped out), but we couldn’t get over how tame he seemed.
At first it was exciting to get such a good look, but then
it was kind of sad. This creature was
probably the coyote equivalent of a panhandler.
Okay, now on to the most exciting wildlife of all. I’m talking about creatures less than two
inches long from tip to tail. These are
the famous pupfish of Death Valley. We
were lucky to get to see them, because in the hotter months (most of the year,
I think) they dig themselves under the mud so they don’t become a giant
species-wide fish fry. I know someone who
spent a month in Death Valley and never got to see the pupfish.
The great thing about these fish is that they only live a
year, and much of that is underground, so during their active phase they really
don’t have time for anything but fighting and sex. Here are a couple of schematics that capture
the entirety of the pupfish non-subterranean existence.
Unfortunately for the pupfish, the sex isn’t exactly amazing. The male kind of sidles up to the female, and they wriggle along together while he spews his seed everywhere. My older daughter Alexa (who is at least as knowledgeable as the Amazon Echo, particularly where science is concerned) estimates that the shallow streams of Death Valley where these pupfish congregate is at least 20% sperm. Paternity must be really difficult to establish.
Given the apparent lack of seduction, can we consider this rampant intercourse consensual? My kids wondered about that, since at times it appeared the female was attempting to get away. It’s hard to tell, though, because these fish are in such a damn hurry all the time, they never sit still anyway. My wife concluded that it’s probably consensual given their short lifespan. “It’s not like the female has time to pursue a Ph.D.,” she declared.
Here is my best snapshot of this endangered species.
And here, in living color, are videos of the two primary
pupfish activities:
Q. Any tips about the best route to and from Death Valley?
A. Assuming you’re a
Californian (because nobody really lives in Nevada, right?), the prettiest
route to Death Valley would be through Yosemite. But wait, not so fast! If you’re visiting Death Valley in the
spring, before it becomes a fricking oven, the roads through Yosemite probably
won’t be open. I think they’re usually
closed until May or June. (Who wants to
drive in snow during spring break anyway?
Not me—I learned that lesson the hard way.)
So, if you’re going in the spring, you’ll need to head south
to go around the Sierra Nevada mountains, and cut over at Bakersfield (slogan: “Nice place to live, but I wouldn’t want to
visit”). Now, if you’re navigating via
GPS, Google Maps will direct you down Highway 58 thru Mojave and then have you
take Highway 14 north. This is not very
scenic, and sends you through the little Searles Valley community of Trona, which Wikipedia says
is “known for its isolation and desolation.”
The main employer is a chemical plant processing soda ash. The Los Angeles Times describes Trona as “blight on an industrial scale.” Its singular claim to fame is that it
has the only high school football field made entirely of dirt. Sure, you’re through Trona in under ten
minutes, but it’s pretty harrowing. The
houses are all falling to ruin, the majority having been abandoned. My kids begged my wife and me to take a
different route going home. Ever the
provocateur, I said, "Actually, I’m hoping they’ll have cheap gas
there.” My wife flatly refused: “We are not stopping in Trona.”
As we learned on the trip home, there’s a much better route
that only adds about 20 minutes to your drive.
Here’s how we did our return trip (and you could obviously reverse this
for the trip out):
- Head west on Highway 190, with a jackknife turn at the dried-up Owens Lake (worth looking at in and of itself)
- Make a left on Highway 395 and head south a right fur piece
- Head west on Highway 178, which will take you over Walker Pass and past Isabella Lake—neither of them all that scenic, but a pretty nice drive
- There’s a very good diner, Nelda’s, in the little town of Lake Isabella
- The stretch of Highway 178 to Bakersfield winds through a gorgeous gorge, which justifies the extra 20 minutes of driving all by itself
Q. Is there Internet connectivity in Trona?
A. Probably.
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I didn't know there was a Mars, CA. And, I bet Trona is better in the summer.
ReplyDeleteJohn, I didn't know about Mars, CA either. I wonder if its residents call themselves Martians? BTW, I realize Trona isn't on my map so I tweaked the text to say it's in Searles Valley. So if you couldn't find it that's why.
DeleteIf you visit Trona in July to enjoy the 106 degree average highs, let me know how that works out for you!