Southbound part 3: Death Valley Run
Day 8
We got outta dodge pretty fast, loaded up on Subway sandwiches and headed west on 160 towards Death Valley.
Again this meant dodging traffic more than dodging bullets. 160 was full of construction. There's a section that is just endlessly straight and if you're not looking you'll miss Tecopa/Old Spanish Highway on the left. I didn't miss it. Suddenly the road opened before us. Traffic disappeared and views exploded in front of us.
Kudos to Mr. Scott Johnson. His itinerary became the core of next two days of travels and touring. The man knows his Death Valley. We made our way west along to Tecopa and up to Tecopa Springs.
Suddenly we hit the U-We-Wash. This is a building of mythic proportions. Much fun was had by Daddy snapping away.
Tecopa Springs is a charming, alien place. Rock gardens take on all new meaning here.
Trailer parks and salt swamps surrounded by tall grasses juxtaposed against incredibly stark, barren, colorful mountains.
We nipped north to Shoshone and topped off the tank. At $4.59 a gallon. Sheesh we're not even in DV yet. Up and then east onto 178 into DV proper.
This is a great way to enter the valley. The views as you pass over the mountain ranges are thrilling. We stopped for the halves of our Subways and dug up a few rocks.
Then we descended down. We landed at the Ashford mill. One of the many lone, abandoned spots from the early mining days. Death Valley is so dry and so barren. Miners had many an effort trying to get various ores, especially Borax, out of the veins that pepper the place. There were many places that processed the ore for shipment, typically by huge mule wagons. This is what's left of the place.
North a few paces to Badwater. Fun was using the GPS to watch us drop below sea level.
While Badwater is measured at 288 below there were many spots that were lower along the way.
Here's a way to appreciate it. Kat and Kel posing in front of the mountain cliff that right behind Badwater.
Can you see the itty bitty sign way up the hill?
How about now?
Badwater is now a salt flat. We paid our park entry fee here ($25) via a new-fangled cash ingestion machine and went out on the salt.
The salt here has been walked on enough to smooth it into a virtual skating rink. It's a desolate place. Even with a few tourists bustling about. I should point out the being here in April is a near peak time to visit for volume of tourists and yet nothing feels crowded. There were maybe 6 cars here. Typical of most of DV. It's so damn big. Ditto the temperatures were downright pleasant. 80's when the sun was out 70's when it wasn't. I'm told this is abnormally cool. Cool.
Further north is Artist's Drive, a short loop with wonderfully colored rock slopes. We moved along quickly, stopped. Mitchell made a contribution to the locale in the form of a mini-hoodoo which we captured in many a media form.
Had a moment to contemplate the vastness and the colors and then skiddoo'ed. We landed just another dozen miles north in Furnace Creek. More specifically the Furnace Creek Inn.
This is truly a strange place. You drive along all this empty, craggy landscape. There's nothing but rocks, salt and mountains for a gazillion miles and suddenly there's a palm tree surrounded enclave. With views and drinks. We watched the sun set, ogled a road runner and then a coyote trotting by. Yeah drinks weren't cheap but there ain't much competition out here. It was a fine end to a lovely day.
Just down the street was our destination the Furnace Creek Ranch. Same outfit, more "rustic" [read less swank and less extortive] digs. Actually the gounds of the Ranch were charming though the room was pretty basic for $170 a night.
The ranch is really a large series of hotel buildings layed out with a store, 2 restaurants and a pool. Not bad. Many families visiting. Everything is walkable. Prices were steep but not precipitous. Right in the middle of the ranch is the Borax museum. More on that later. Next to the ranch is the obligatory trailer park. Right down the street is the Visitors center.
Street... You know it feels stupid to call it that. Seriously this is not a town. It's an immense, desert-like valley with this hack of a few dozen acres of land that has been hospitablized with palm trees, snacks, beds, the lowest gold course in the world and souvenirs. Apparently there is a Furnace creek or Texas spring or something and this is where the indian tribes settled and that's what got the place going to become the hubbub of industry it is today.
See what I mean: click here
If you didn't try already, go back to that link and trying zooming out a few steps and you'll see what I mean about this place just dropped in the middle of nowhere.
Anyway going down the street means driving out the front of the campground and seeing this:
Turn left and you see this:
Back to our story.
We were pooped and opted to finish our Subways for dinner rather than try one of the two on-ranch-dining establishments. We did snarf up to the general store for some goodies, souvies and such. A warm night by Carmel Valley but less so by Death Valley standards. Probably about 80 degrees. It was a fine stroll back to the digs. We passed out. Mitchell decided to climb Mt. Everest in his sleep that night. My back was the east face approach. I love the scamp but boy!
I had footprints on my kidneys in the morning.
We got outta dodge pretty fast, loaded up on Subway sandwiches and headed west on 160 towards Death Valley.
Again this meant dodging traffic more than dodging bullets. 160 was full of construction. There's a section that is just endlessly straight and if you're not looking you'll miss Tecopa/Old Spanish Highway on the left. I didn't miss it. Suddenly the road opened before us. Traffic disappeared and views exploded in front of us.
Kudos to Mr. Scott Johnson. His itinerary became the core of next two days of travels and touring. The man knows his Death Valley. We made our way west along to Tecopa and up to Tecopa Springs.
Suddenly we hit the U-We-Wash. This is a building of mythic proportions. Much fun was had by Daddy snapping away.
Tecopa Springs is a charming, alien place. Rock gardens take on all new meaning here.
Trailer parks and salt swamps surrounded by tall grasses juxtaposed against incredibly stark, barren, colorful mountains.
We nipped north to Shoshone and topped off the tank. At $4.59 a gallon. Sheesh we're not even in DV yet. Up and then east onto 178 into DV proper.
This is a great way to enter the valley. The views as you pass over the mountain ranges are thrilling. We stopped for the halves of our Subways and dug up a few rocks.
Then we descended down. We landed at the Ashford mill. One of the many lone, abandoned spots from the early mining days. Death Valley is so dry and so barren. Miners had many an effort trying to get various ores, especially Borax, out of the veins that pepper the place. There were many places that processed the ore for shipment, typically by huge mule wagons. This is what's left of the place.
North a few paces to Badwater. Fun was using the GPS to watch us drop below sea level.
While Badwater is measured at 288 below there were many spots that were lower along the way.
Here's a way to appreciate it. Kat and Kel posing in front of the mountain cliff that right behind Badwater.
Can you see the itty bitty sign way up the hill?
How about now?
Badwater is now a salt flat. We paid our park entry fee here ($25) via a new-fangled cash ingestion machine and went out on the salt.
The salt here has been walked on enough to smooth it into a virtual skating rink. It's a desolate place. Even with a few tourists bustling about. I should point out the being here in April is a near peak time to visit for volume of tourists and yet nothing feels crowded. There were maybe 6 cars here. Typical of most of DV. It's so damn big. Ditto the temperatures were downright pleasant. 80's when the sun was out 70's when it wasn't. I'm told this is abnormally cool. Cool.
Further north is Artist's Drive, a short loop with wonderfully colored rock slopes. We moved along quickly, stopped. Mitchell made a contribution to the locale in the form of a mini-hoodoo which we captured in many a media form.
Had a moment to contemplate the vastness and the colors and then skiddoo'ed. We landed just another dozen miles north in Furnace Creek. More specifically the Furnace Creek Inn.
This is truly a strange place. You drive along all this empty, craggy landscape. There's nothing but rocks, salt and mountains for a gazillion miles and suddenly there's a palm tree surrounded enclave. With views and drinks. We watched the sun set, ogled a road runner and then a coyote trotting by. Yeah drinks weren't cheap but there ain't much competition out here. It was a fine end to a lovely day.
Just down the street was our destination the Furnace Creek Ranch. Same outfit, more "rustic" [read less swank and less extortive] digs. Actually the gounds of the Ranch were charming though the room was pretty basic for $170 a night.
The ranch is really a large series of hotel buildings layed out with a store, 2 restaurants and a pool. Not bad. Many families visiting. Everything is walkable. Prices were steep but not precipitous. Right in the middle of the ranch is the Borax museum. More on that later. Next to the ranch is the obligatory trailer park. Right down the street is the Visitors center.
Street... You know it feels stupid to call it that. Seriously this is not a town. It's an immense, desert-like valley with this hack of a few dozen acres of land that has been hospitablized with palm trees, snacks, beds, the lowest gold course in the world and souvenirs. Apparently there is a Furnace creek or Texas spring or something and this is where the indian tribes settled and that's what got the place going to become the hubbub of industry it is today.
See what I mean: click here
If you didn't try already, go back to that link and trying zooming out a few steps and you'll see what I mean about this place just dropped in the middle of nowhere.
Anyway going down the street means driving out the front of the campground and seeing this:
Turn left and you see this:
Back to our story.
We were pooped and opted to finish our Subways for dinner rather than try one of the two on-ranch-dining establishments. We did snarf up to the general store for some goodies, souvies and such. A warm night by Carmel Valley but less so by Death Valley standards. Probably about 80 degrees. It was a fine stroll back to the digs. We passed out. Mitchell decided to climb Mt. Everest in his sleep that night. My back was the east face approach. I love the scamp but boy!
I had footprints on my kidneys in the morning.
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