Category Archives: Death Valley

Death Valley Easter Trip 2013: above Ubehebe

Death Valley 2013-2744Easter Morning, everybody slept in except for JR who was up at 6:00 AM for a couple mile walk before sunrise. The rest of us waited for the sun to warm our bags.

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For Easter breakfast – tea outnumbering coffee for the first time I can remember (three to two)  – we had pumpernickel bread, avocado, and chocolate Easter eggs. After some discussion, we decided to drive to Scottie’s Castle for water and then noodle around in the badlands above Ubehebe Crater. Michele and I had gone there on a trip with Laura  Atkins in 2004  and wanted to explore the area a little more.

The whole Death Valley area is dryer this year than I have ever seen it. There are just no flowers, not even going over the high passes. In the valleys  it looks like nothing even woke up. All the way down from Tahoe – until we ran out of light – the Sierras had almost no snow.

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In 2004, there was still snow on Tin Mountain at the end of March and the rim of Ubehebe Crater was covered in poppies. It was not considered a particularly wet year.

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Ubehebe Crater is at the north end of  the Cottonwood Mountains and sort of separates north Death Valley Wash from Death Valley proper. The crater is about a half a mile across and – depending who you listen to – is 800 to 8,000 old. (For details, go here.)

Ubehebe was both crowded and very windy.

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I was promoting getting back in the car and driving to The Racetrack – the Ranger at Scottie’s had assured me that the road had been recently regraded and should be passable in our vehicles – and come back in the afternoon when the wind might have calmed down. Michele opined It is always windy at the crater’s edge. and Courtney said I love the wind, it makes everything feel alive. We decided to wander uphill to some other, smaller, craters and badlands to get away from the crowds and see if we could find an area with a little less wind.

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From the edge of one of the small craters, we could see down and across into the badlands and what looked like a route through them and off we went through newly cut  gullies in the badlands.

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In, rough hewn land, an excellent book about the geological formation of the Western United States – and a book I highly recommend, it is very, very, readable – Keith Meldahl talks about fossilized rivers in the Sierras. It seems that Nevada was once much higher – like the Tibetan Plateau now – and it was drained by huge Yukon like rivers that cut through the, then, lower Sierras. Nevada sank but the riverbeds, chocked full of rounded debris,  remained. A good example is a roadcut for Interstate 80 – Michele and my favorite roadcut, by the way – near Gold Run. I think that the same thing happened in the badlands we were now exploring. We kept running into old riverbeds full of rounded rocks that were crisscrossing the beds of volcanic ash.

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Climbing up the last little pitch to get out of the gully, I slipped, cutting my hand and skinning my knee. A typical minor accident that all of us have probably had as kids and many of us as adults wandering around in the wild. I am still full of high-powered blood thinners because of my Atrial Fibrillation Ablation procedure in January. Consequently, I bleed like a stuck pig.

JR had the First Aid kit and was already at the top, admiring the view, when Michele came over to tell him I had slipped. On the theory that the best thing anybody can do, when somebody is injured, is spread Calm, Michele calmly said something like Steve slipped and cut himself but he is OK. It looks much worse than it is because he is on massive blood thinners. JR walked over and then saw me bleeding. Now he heard, Steve is on massive blood thinners and is going to bleed out. or something close to that.

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He went into hyper triage mode, but Michele got him calmed down and JR did a superb job of doctoring my wounds. They didn’t hurt very much and we were soon on our way. Out of the gully, now, and walking along the ridge. The view up into Upper Death Valley Wash was great but, also a little worrying for me. It was raining over the mountains to the north of us and still pretty windy.

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The women continued up the ridge to the top of a large hill while JR and I stayed at the midpoint (I suspect JR stayed with me in case I passed out from blood loss or something, but is too much of a gentleman to admit it).

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Part One: Here

Part Two: Here

Part Three: Here 

Next: Above Ubehebe 2 here

 

 

 

 

 

 

Death Valley Easter Trip 2013: Loosing Control

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Driving out of Eureka Valley, we listened to a selection of music picked out by Courtney. As we drove past canyons just begging to be explored on a future trip, the music added the perfect enhancement.

Between Eureka Valley and the north end of Death Valley Wash, just before the road summit over the Last chance Range, is The Crater Mine. I have no idea when it was last actually mined but recently enough so that the boundaries of Death Valley National park were drawn around it and distant enough so that I have never driven by when it was active. The Crater Mine area has been mined for sulfur, gypsum, and sinter; all deposited by hot springs that may have been great before the mine tore everything up.

To me, The Crater Mine is to be avoided; it is a place where healthy rock is turned into ugly, deep, powder. I have probably stopped there when I first drove this road, but I don’t remember doing so. But every time  I have passed the mine, I was driving. When Iver Iverson first introduced me to Death Valley, it was in my BMW Bavaria, then a GMC 4×4 pickup truck to get further off road, then a Jeep Cherokee, and – finally – a Range Rover. But this time, Courtney was driving (in a very nice Dodge pseudo SUV).

When we got to the mine, it was getting late and I said something like Oh, it’s a shitty old mine, it’s getting dark and we are running late, just keep going. Courtney turned to me and smiled, then turned into the mine area and turned off the engine. She was driving, not me. She was in control of where we went and when we stopped. It was no longer my responsibility to make sure we got to camp before dark, it was her responsibility. I was no longer in control; I was no longer the tour guide. What a relief. What a liberation! I was just one of a group of people who were wandering around the desert together, not because we wanted to be together – although we did – but because we wanted to be in the desert. Because we wanted to be here (maybe not all of us here at this mine, but here in this desert).

Both Gina and Courtney, being engineers were – in my humble opinion – inordinately interested in the mine and, at some point, I gave Gina my camera to take some shots. The following pictures are hers.

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Then, in the fading light, it was on to upper Death Valley Wash to find a campsite. For dinner we had hors d’oeuvres with cocktails and wine; a salad of baby lettuces; Indian garlic rice – cooked in a pouch; and barbecued, marinated, cod. We finished the day sitting and standing around a campfire in the Weber barbecue, talking about past camping trips and how much fun we were having.

Part One: Here

Part Two: Here

Next: Above Ubehebe here

 

Death Valley Easter Trip 2013: Eureka Valley

 

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My preference is to drive to the desert, especially the deep desert, during the day. I like watching the subtle change from green to brown, and red, and yellow; from Civilization to the Great Empty. (About twenty years ago, I dropped Michele off at work and drove all day to Page, Arizona, to meet her flight that night. I had a deep feeling of where I was while Michele, having just got off the plane, wasn’t even sure which way was north.) On this trip, we left Bishop at about 10:00 PM after a late dinner and drove south to Big Pine where we turned east to drive into the White Mountains just as a large moon was rising.

When we entered Eureka Valley,  it was bright enough to get a sense of the vastness of the valley – really a graben – but not bright enough to easily spot the camping spot I had planned on. What we did find worked great and, after a leisurely breakfast we went south about ten miles on the Eureka Dune Road to the Eureka Dunes (duh!).

JR had already been up since before sunrise and had gone for a long walk and his enthusiasm, added to Gina and Courtney’s. I have been going to the desert – mostly Death Valley, but also The Mojave National Preserve, Anzo Borrego State Park, Northwestern Nevada, and assorted other places like the Moroccan Sahara – since the early 70’s when Iver Iverson introduced me to Death Valley and I Had a religious conversion as my very ex-wife so disparagingly put it. Michele and I got married there. But it has been hard to get friends to share my wonder, my fervor.

Over the years, I have tried, dragging people there with promises of subtle wonders. Their reactions have ranged from This is nice, let’s do it again, I’ll call you, don’t call me. to  Ugh? nice, I guess, but windy, to Where are the trees? to Can we go home now? ; but Gina and Courtney were the first people in a long time that caught the excitement that Michele and I share.

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Meanwhile, back in Eureka Valley, the Eureka Dunes are the highest dunes in California – which may be akin to being the longest earthworm or heaviest crow, interesting but not very important – at 680 feet above the dry lakebed they sit in (they look smaller because the surrounding Last Chance Range towers over them).

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We drove to the west side of the dunes, nearest the highest point and furthest from the crowded parking lot – it was packed, there must have been five cars – on the theory that we would climb to the top. I had climbed to the top, once, over twenty years ago where I ran into a guy who climbed to the almost-top with skis. He was going to ski down the steepest part, but it was a failure (for him, fun to watch for us). Everybody packed lots of water – as the temp was climbing – Gina and Michele brought snacks, and we set off across the dry lakebed to the dunes.

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Sand dunes are caused by the wind (in the desert, atleast). The wind scours the desert, picking up sand and dust. On a very windy day, so much is in the air that we can’t see across the valley, but – as the wind bumps up against a mountain and slows down – it looses its carrying capacity, dropping its cargo of sand and dust. Over time – alot of time, one grain of sand at a time – the sand and dust has built a dune 680 feet high and, maybe, a mile long. The shape of the dunes is governed by the shape of the surrounding topography that is slowing down the wind so it has been pretty much the same since the invention of the camera.

Sand Dunes - Death Valley, Ansel AdamsWhen we got into the dunes, we began to see and feel their complexity. In some places, they were hard and in other places almost too soft to get anywhere. Here would be a pattern and over there a smooth wall. On the otherside of a ridge, a valley going all the way down to the lake bed.

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And, as we climbed, the changing view of the Eureka Valley and the Last Chance range open up.

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I stopped climbing first, choosing, after our snack break to sit on a nice warm ridge and take an afternoon nap while everybody else kept at it.

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JR and Michele got the furthest, both of them – as far as I can tell – switching to barefoot sand-walking. At least they were both barefoot when they got back down to my level; JR reporting an equipment malfunction and Michele just seemed to like walking barefoot in warm sand. Then it was time to put the shoes back on, dust the sand from our butts – in my case, atleast – walk back to the cars, drive over the Last Chance Range to Upper Death Valley Wash, and find a place to camp.

Part One: Here

Next: Loosing Control here

Addendum: some additional shots from Michele

Eureka Dunes panorama - copyright Michele Stern 2013
Eureka Dunes panorama – copyright Michele Stern 2013

Steve at Eureka Dunes (by Michele)

That little group of specks on the ridge below is Gina, Cortney, Steve (different one) and Linda.
That little group of specks on the ridge below is Gina, Cortney, Steve (different one) and Linda.

 

Death Valley Easter Trip 2013: Systems Failure

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Gina Matesic, Courtney Gonzales, JR Grubbs, Michele, and I met at Michele’s family cabin late Thursday night so we would be ready to go to death Valley early the next day. The forecast had been for snow showers but Thursday night/Friday morning never got down to freezing and Friday was mostly clear (both the sky and the roads). It was a great weather to start a trip. We got coffee to go in Tahoe City and started around the lake full of big smiles.

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Then a funny thing happened; the heater core blew. We had just started out, admiring the color of lake Tahoe when a cloud of steam explode from the heater, fogging the windshield and sending green iridescent coolant running all over the floor. My first reaction was that the trip was off but everybody else’s reaction was How can we work around this problem and get going? 

Courtney – I think – found a nearby garage with an excellent reputation  and we called AAA for a short tow. By the time we got to the garage, we had talked about the problem and I was convinced that the heater core was probably the problem and the easiest, cheapest, fix was to bypass it. (The night before had been about 36°F and I love that the receptionist at the garage told me, Now that it is warm, you really don’t need a heater. I agreed because we were going to the desert but 36°F is heater temperature to me; people in the mountains are tougher, I guess.) As it was almost time for lunch and we followed the mechanic’s recommendation to have a nice lunch at a local Thai diner.

Eurotech – the garage (at 848 Tanager St, Incline Village) – thought they could have us back on the road by 2:00 PM. Before we even got back from lunch, we saw them test driving the repaired car. They even replaced a burned out tail-lamp that I had mentioned. From the disaster of a failed trip to back on the road in less than three hours with a cost about $125.00 was an amazing turn around. I highly recommend Eurotech.

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We were on our way, late, but not terminally late and anxious to get to the desert. Tahoe still looked magnificent – with a thin line of fog giving it mystery as we drove down the east side, and over Spooner Summit into Nevada and the Carson Valley.

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Then disaster! The radiator intake line blew, sending coolant all over the engine and clouds of steam out from under the hood. We were again stranded, this time in Nevada at Bodine’s Casino. Sitting in Bodine’s parking lot with steam coming out from under the hood, we found out that our biggest water container was leaking, lots of stuff was damp, and we would need to stop at some time and get some more water.

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Two connected problems are often a sign that something more basic is wrong and my interpretation was that the hoses were old and failing at about the same time. Those of you who know cars, might be thinking of something more serious but I was still in denial. I had just spent almost $1,000 having Sunset Garage check out the Rover for the trip because I was worried about the belts and hoses being old and brittle and they assured me that they had checked everything and the truck was good to go.

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But, what the hell, an upper radiator hose is probably the easiest thing to fix under the hood and JR and Courtney drove a couple of miles to the nearest car parts store and got a flexible hose. We were back on our way in less than two hours and less than twenty bucks. We must have driven atleast five miles before another hose broke. Shit! Unbelievable!

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I was ready to throw in the towel at this point but JR lead a revolt to solve the problem once and for all by renting another SUV and having my poor truck towed back to Euroteck. These guys really wanted to get to the desert and were willing to move heaven and earth to make it happen. They went back into Carson City to Hertz to get another SUV while Gina, Michele, and I waited for AAA.

While we were waiting, Galen – a perfect stranger in the best way – drove up in his semi-tricked out Land Rover and told us about a mechanic who specialized in 4×4 vehicles used off road, named Hollars Automotive And 4 Wheel Drive, that was only ten miles down the road in an old gas station. By this time, AAA was starting to say that they could not get a truck there to tow us back to Euroteck until the next day and would I please wait by the side of the road – or come back tomorrow – until they got there.

It seemed a no-brainer, we had the Range Rover towed to Hollars, climbed into the two SUV’s – using the term very loosely, on one of them – and started driving, in the dark now, south.1  When we got to Bishop, everything but a Pizza Parlor was closed – and their pizza oven was shut down – so we ate pasta there and drove on to the Eureka Valley to find a place to camp. We woke up the next morning in a different world. In my case, in a different world with a deflated airmattress.

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1. This makes it sound much easier than it was, not easier really – because it was easy – but less stress free than it really was. I was going into shock, my faithful truck was self  destructing, money was being spent that I hadn’t counted on spending and didn’t want to spend, and it was getting later and later.

Next: Eureka valley here

 

Easter in Death Valley

Easter morning, we all slept in and then after a traditional Easter breakfast of instant oatmeal, we went for an Easter hike. The plan was to drive to the end of the Hole in the Wall Road and then hike up to the mysterious Red Amphitheatre. We started by hiking up an intimate side canyon to a hill overlooking a large fan that spilled out of a open valley behind the nearby ridge. Along the way, we saw lots of fossils and probably the only blooming Mojave Aster – Xylorhiza tortifloria –  in the park (it was a very dry year).

 

Also along the way, my beloved camera started acting up with the shutter not firing or staying open too long. As we walked, I went through the five stages of grief: first was denial – well, maybe this is a one time only failure, OK, maybe two times, three? – anger – shit! this can’t be happening, what is wrong with this stupid camera – bargaining – maybe if I turn it off and let it cool down, maybe if I change the battery – then depression which was pretty short and, finally, acceptance – well, this is an incredible place and the weather is great; I’ll just put my camera away and enjoy the trip. We soon stopped in the shade and had a leisurely Easter Lunch while I returned to bargaining by turning the camera off and then back on to get a shot.

When we got back to camp, I tried several shots of Gina and Courtney in their Easter finery but my camera was committing Hara-Kiri before my eyes.

 

After much Lightroom work when I got back home, I was able to semi save one shot.

Then acceptance set in. On Easter Monday – Egg Nyte – we spent the morning hiking in the badlands below our campsite. In the afternoon, we went to the Mesquite Flat Sand Dunes to watch the sun get low where Michele used her iPhone to get a short video.

The next day we drove home where it was raining.