Friday, July 28, 2006
Death Valley, July 23, 2006
Death by degrees
Baker to Big Pine, July 23, 2006
124 degrees Fahrenheit is not a temperature it is a state of body.
I know, I know, California is having the worst heat wave in 57 years. The news says it is so; so it must be true. Naturally the same news outlets indicate that all this heat is due to “global warming” and we should break out the permanent sun block since this is the way of the future. Apparently global warming has been with us for a very long time, many of the highest temperatures ever recorded in California took place the summers of 1906, 1909, 1913 and 1949.
I wanted to experience real, true, natural, oppressive heat for myself. Seeing the news reports just has not been enough for me. So, I made a promise to myself, earlier this summer; when the heat in Death Valley is predicted to exceed 120F then I would make my first summer visit to the valley of death and see for myself.
Linda said I was proving to be the dumbest husband she has ever had. I pointed out that the life insurance is all paid up. She pointed out that she preferred me over money. (I thought that was very nice) Mark said he would prefer to drive north to the Eel River for a day of river swimming but if I insisted on this adventure he would accompany me. And so we were off, off our rockers and off to Death Valley. By all accounts our timing was just about perfect. We hit the peak of the heat wave and yes, we experienced 124F, 125F and possibly 126 degree Fahrenheit.
The search for heat
The journey was a simple one really; just drive down the San Joaquin Valley through Bakersfield. Drive up over Tehachapi pass to Mohave and then turn East to Barstow and then Baker (aptly named) to then turn north straight through Death Valley, Eureka Valley and then over the Inyo Mountains to Big Pine, California.
We arrived at Baker on Highway 15 at 11 p.m. It was only 103F. We then drove north on Highway 127 to the Harry Wade Rd turn off. This is the actual southern end of Death Valley and the start of a dirt road entrance that follows the Amargosa River (dry) North into the valley. We were fully prepared for traveling alone in the heat. The Pathfinder was packed with 10 gallons of water, shovels, tarps, rope, tow straps, blankets and an ice chest packed with ice, water and caffeine. What could possibly go wrong? We camped for the night just out side the national park boundary. This was important since camping under BLM rules is easier then under national park rules. Inside the park you cannot camp right next to the road and you cannot drive your vehicle down a wash looking for a campsite, we did both. Since we were driving into the valley, naturally the heat began to increase, by the time we found our campsite wash at midnight it was 108F.
I tossed out a tarp, a couple pads and a blanket to keep us off the pads and we tried to sleep. Between the heat, marauding stink bugs (their scratching makes you think of desert scorpions when you are half awake) and no breeze, there was little rest. Mark got so hot at 2 a.m. that he climbed back in the Pathfinder and ran the air conditioner for a while. By 6 a.m. it had cooled to about 99F and the sun was up. Rise and shine, it was bound to be an interesting day.
The goal for the day was, “experience the day.” Don’t just drive through the valley with the A/C on all day. I scheduled in four stops: Saratoga Springs, Badwater, Furnace Creek and Salt Creek. Sadly, each location has a name associated with water, disappointment was sure to follow.
Saratoga Springs:
Just inside the southern end of Death Valley National Park. Six acres of water that could actually be a drinking source in a pinch, bring your own filter. This area is full of old mining activity so we drove up Ibex Pass into a talc mining area. After passing huge warning signs on the road like, “high clearance, 4X4 recommended” and “deep soft sand next 4 miles” we got stuck in the sand while Mark was driving. He had been driving for miles and doing great. He hit a deep sand patch going to slow and spun out. Well, I take all the blame. I had not put it in four wheel drive yet. I locked the hubs and backed out of the sand to solid earth before hitting it again with speed and power. Yep, them signs were telling the truth. No moisture in the sand and it seemed bottomless in places but we did OK and moved on. Temperature up to about 110F.
Badwater:
Lowest spot below sea level in North America, –282 feet. The elevation sign is right next to the parking lot; even I thought that was the lowest spot, right next to the sign. Turns out it is several miles west across the salt flat. So we decided to go for a walk. Not too far, just out past all the other foot prints and then, just a bit further, just to say we did it. No problem walking out there, icy bottle of water in hand, steady focus and goal. I even had a small thermometer with me for checking on just how stupid we were. Right now the stupid meter was at 114F. We walked passed all the other idiots. Took a group picture for a grandfather, father, son group (is this a guy thing?). Then just a bit further. Now turn around and look back at the parking lot, oh my, the car seems awfully small from here. It seems we had walked out about 3/4 of a mile. Ran out of water on the way back. Early on the way back. Popped a sweat like I have never experienced before. Back in the car, new ice water, A/C on high, all is well. Temperature up to about 115F.
Furnace Creek:
12:30 p.m. This is park headquarters, water, fuel, gift shop and $10 vegeburgers. Two sodas, two burgers, one onion rings, $38, they figure and include the tip for you! How nice. After looking at $18 tee shirts and “native Indian” crafts probably made in Mexico it was time to keep moving. But no, the parking lots were full of vans and RV’s covered with signs like, “caution, runner ahead” or “watch for slow runners”(that about says it all for me…). The next day, July 24, 2006 was the start of the Badwater 135. www.badwaterultra.com. This is when ultra marathon runners from all over the world gather to “run” from Badwater to Whitney Portal, the end of the road at over 8,000 feet in the Sierra Nevada’s. See, there is dumb and there is truly insane. (the winner this year ran the 135 miles in just under 26 hours) Temperature, about 121F.
Salt Creek:
2:00 p.m. The temperature is now 124/125F “in the shade” as they say. No shade in this parking lot but it is time for the final hike of the day. There is a boardwalk here for walking a half-mile loop across the delicate swampy habitat of the lowly Salt Creek Pupfish. But, no swamp, no water, no fish. Apparently the fish spend the summer in a deeper pool further upstream. But no matter, we shall die right here. We walked the entire loop, ran out of water again, popped a red faced sweat with moisture pouring out of our bodies, dripping arms, neck, forehead. Breathing means pulling 125F pre-heated air into the lungs and it feels heavy, oppressive and to me… emotional. Not scared, but nervous, apprehensive, uncertain and a bit fearful. The feelings mounted in intensity as we walked. The path curved into a barren wash and the surrounding hills were completely white and chalk colored. No life in sight, no other fools either. Back to the car. Mark got overheated this time. Nothing serious, but a nervous overheated flush that lasted for miles as we drove north.
Just before Hwy 267 reaches Scotty’s Castle we turned north onto Death Valley Rd. This is the dirt road exit out the “top” of Death Valley. Driving north, alone again, on the road to Crankshaft Junction, we gradually climbed to nearly 3,000 feet and the temperature dropped to only 103F. Then we dropped down into Eureka Valley (still in the park and home to the tallest sand dunes in the United States) crossed the Inyo Mountains and dropped into the Owens Valley and Big Pine, California.
260 miles from Baker to Big Pine.
Saratoga Springs
We arrived at midnight. The night had cooled as we drove north from Baker, California; it was now only 108F.
Mark and I were on a journey of discovery and research; just what was hiking like in Death Valley, in July? And was there natural water available? Our destination was Saratoga Springs, just inside the southern edge of Death Valley National Park.
Saratoga Springs is a mixed alkali habitat spring with three ponds. Over six acres of shallow ponds are surrounded by bulrushes, reeds and a generous outer ring of saltgrass. The springs flow at over 70 gallons per minute and the water is naturally high in fluoride, boron, chlorides and sulfates. While generally this spring does not emit the classic “rotten egg” smell associated with excess sulfates the water does have a classic desert odor and must be filtered through a ceramic filter before use. Even after filtering the water will maintain a taste associated with desert springs, but it will be potable.
We spread our sleeping pads next to the Pathfinder on a sandy wash shelf about a foot above the floor of a shallow wash nearly five miles from the springs. While it is never wise to sleep on the bottom level of any desert wash I felt the minimal elevation we had would protect us in the event of flash floods from the Confidence Hills of the Avawatz Mountains during the night. The night was still, stifling, hot and apparently perfect for wandering stink beetles (Eleodes sp.) that wandered onto my pad throughout the hours till dawn. Twice they scratched at my bare back and woke me to unfounded fears of desert hairy scorpions.
Sunrise cleared the Salt Spring Hills about 6 AM and the air had chilled to an almost tolerable 99F. Breakfast was a simple affair of “cold” truck-stop coffee and muffins with bananas. We drove the remaining miles to the springs while watching the sandy washes for morning creatures. It was quiet, nothing but zebra lizards and small swarms of flying ants were encountered. After parking we prepared to hike north around the springs to the old mines nearby and then further north and east to the base of “old Ibex pass”. The length of the hike would depend on temperature rise and related courage levels.
Historically, Saratoga Springs figured prominently in the route of the famous “twenty mule teams” of Death Valley used by the Harmony Borax Works to haul partially refined borax from Death Valley to the train railhead in Mohave, California. From 1883 to 1888 these teams (usually consisting of 18 mules and two horses) hauled massive dual freight wagons plus a water tender the 165 miles to Mohave over a Chinese laborer built road that crossed salt flats and followed dry river bottoms before climbing several passes in the mountains guarding the southern valley entrance. Wagon teams regularly camped near the springs and there is an old stone foundation and walls near the east side of the springs that may date from this era. The springs were also the location for the murder of a teamster during this period. Stories vary but generally agree that a two-man wagon team quarrel ended with a desert murder and hasty burial near the springs. Later, the unfortunate teamster was dug up as part of the ensuing murder trial and re-buried with more dignity at a different location.
As Mark and I approached the small ponds in the early morning the level of bird life was impressive. With temperatures climbing rapidly we were greeted with the lifting of a small flock of mallards, one great blue heron, a common egret and at least one cormorant. Without binoculars I was unable to identify the cormorant but the double-crested cormorant is listed on the birding field list for Death Valley as “rare”. In addition there were killdeer and doves and a lone red tailed hawk drifted above the water. As we moved off toward the nearby mining activity to the east the mallards circled and landed and life returned to normal.
While the ponds contain the Saratoga pupfish we did not see any fish activity. Each of the pupfish populations in Death Valley has been isolated for so long as to be considered a separate species. The Saratoga pupfish is found only here and while it is maintaining a healthy breeding population it is considered at risk since it exists in no other location. Each of the Death Valley Pupfish (Cyprinodon salinus) subspecies is located in small critical habitats but none is more endangered then the Devil’s Hole Pupfish (Cyprinodon diabolis) located in one small sinkhole spring 37 miles east of Death Valley proper in Nevada.
After passing the old talc mining works the trail fades away and the hiking is cross-country as the hills to the east curve into a divide called Old Ibex Pass. Our desire to continue up the pass and then return down the south side past Ibex dunes and thus returning to the Pathfinder dwindled with our water. The air temperature had already climbed back to 108F and it was increasing at more then one degree per hour. The climb over the pass would have to wait for another day.
As we retraced our steps we were both pleased. The hiking was pleasant, the local water would do in a pinch and there was still plenty of day left for additional discoveries.
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