The all-day drive was worth it, getting up at first light and piling everything in the Subaru, then speeding down I-40 across New Mexico, Arizona, and Nevada to arrive in Death Valley National Park in time for the last light and a spectacular steak dinner. My 32 year old son, Max Bush, was with me on this trip and we were both pretty excited to explore some new territory. I’d hardly seen him this past fall, since he was in his first semester at UNM studying history, and our plan was to see Death Valley, then drive through the Mojave National Preserve and head down to Joshua Tree.
This was our first time in Death Valley and we were just blown away.
Food and accommodations in the park are sparse and remote, and because tourists are a captive audience very overpriced. But having said that, our stay at the Ranch was very pleasant…palm trees and golf courses curiously juxtaposed with Christmas decorations that hadn’t been taken down yet. The food didn’t disappoint, either…although the saloon (yes, it was a saloon) was a bit of taxidermic circus, cougars and coyotes and elk eyeing us glassily as we devoured our steaks. For the days, we had brought a bag of trail snacks to get us through…and a bottle of Colkegan, our excellent local whiskey from Santa Fe, for the evenings.
In the morning we headed to Zabriskie Point to see the view. What we figured would be a short stop turned out taking us half the day because it was so spectacular…and because we discovered this trail…
Looking out across the tawny badlands from the ridge trail, the salt pans of Death Valley and the 11,000+ foot Panamint range in the distance.
It was pretty precipitous, the kind of trail where you really had to pay attention to where you were putting your feet at all times. But totally worth it for the views, and the amazing rocks underfoot. We went out a good ways, and at a high point I made three silicone molds on some rocks before we turned around. Amazing textures, and the first silver clay earrings I’ve made from them look fantastic. They’ll be showing up in one of my shops soon.
Molds setting up on the rocks.
Another view of the trail, Max on the ridge.
We backtracked down and then took the easy trail through the badlands wash below, wandering along it for a while, enjoying the warm sun. Death Valley does hold the record for the hottest temperatures recorded at 134 degrees, but in the dead of winter it was in the 60s, which felt pretty good considering the cold winter we’ve been having in northern New Mexico. Then it was off to Stovepipe Wells for a late lunch before we tackled the Mesquite Flats Dunes.
Clouds moving in, looking up valley from the Mesquite Flats Dunes.
The dunes were HIGH, several hundred feet. Not a big, expansive field like White Sands, but a huddled constellation of dunes, a tall ridge at the center. We duly slogged up them and were rewarded with a tremendous view of the valley. But the sun was setting and it was getting cold…time to head back for the night.
The next morning it was the salt.
Badwater Basin salt flats, looking north, the Amargosas on the right.
I have always been fascinated by salt flats, but had never been out on one before. The Badwater Basin is a vast floor of salt, the lowest point in North America, 282 feet below sea level. It felt strange, to know you were that far down. A sign perched high on the ridge above the parking area said “SEA LEVEL” just to drive the point home. It was a chilly morning and the flats were damp, and underwater to the south of us. We walked out for about a mile or so onto the pan, salt crunching underfoot. When we approached the verge of the water the sound changed to a glasslike, tinkery sound that was somehow very appealing.
Contemplating the salt.
Away from the water, the salt was sectioned into large polygonal forms rimmed with crusty crystalline filaments. The formations surprised me; I thought salt only formed into cubic crystals, but these looked fluffy, like wool. I put down my jacket as the surface was still a bit damp, and stayed for a while. It is almost pure sodium chloride—table salt: we tasted it and it was perfectly delicious. And so much of it. I got out my silver metal clay to see if I could make some impressions in the surface of one of the polygons. It worked: four good pieces came of that.
Max on the flats, the Panamints behind him.
One thing these pictures absolutely do not convey is the titanic scale of the place. Those mountains behind Max are over 11,000 feet high from salt to summit. Behind us, we were looking at the Amargosa range, also thousands of feet high.
In the still air of the morning, sound took on strange qualities. Cars, nearly invisible and many miles away on the road, could be heard as if they were only a couple of hundred feet away. The conversations of people almost half a mile away came to us clearly. Scale, clarity and stillness are what I remember most about the place.
Natural bridge.
Next we took a short hike up to a beautiful little natural bridge that had been punched by floodwaters through the conglomerate of a side canyon. Although it doesn’t look it, the wash was pretty steep and I would have hated to be caught there when the water came down.
Dry waterfall in side canyon.
A few paces beyond was a dry waterfall which must be spectacular when running.
180 degrees of raw earth along Artists Drive.
We headed back down and took the turn for Artists Drive, through the multicolored eroded landscape of the Amargosa foothills. Death Valley is pure, raw earth, almost entirely empty of plants. I have never seen anyplace with so much exposed earth, and the colors and landforms were simply stunning.
A palette of earth colors.
The Artist’s Palette was the main stop along the road. I’m a big fan of badlands but I’ve never seen such a jumble of colors in one place before. Turquoise, chocolate brown, rose, golden ochre, sienna brown, ivory, grey…all together in a sharply delineated patchwork. There was no rhyme or reason to it. If only I could have gathered those colors for pigments…
More earthen beauty.
Our last stop was the most eerie and disquieting place I’ve ever seen, the Devil’s Golf Course.
The ends of the earth.
Just a few miles up from the salt flats we visited that morning, the level pan changed into an unbelievably forbidding bonescape of piled clods of jagged salt. About 1 1/2 feet high and set at every angle, these formations were separated by pits where it was just possible to put your feet if you were very, very careful. The salt was hard and sharp, with strange apertures opening into the earth.
Closeup of the Devil’s salt.
Clouds were rolling in and the light had turned grey, making this bleak landscape look even bleaker. Max and I picked our way, amazed, out through the formations for a short time, but we found we didn’t want to linger. It was just a little too weird. Time for a drink and something to eat. We headed back up valley to check out the historic Death Valley Inn. Built in the 20s, it was a beautifully preserved and welcoming place, especially after that salt, and we snagged a table in the lounge with a lovely view for drinks and their charcuterie board…delicious. It ended up being enough for dinner. I’ll have to save up and splurge on a couple of nights there someday…
As I write this, several inches of snow are falling here at home in Placitas. What a contrast to these places! The second part of our adventures will come soon…
Until then, blessings…
Dawn