Mojave Desert to Furnace Creek (Tuesday Feb 16)

[Catching up with blog entries. The Furnace Creek Visitor Center offers free wi-fi for a few hours each day but we’ve had trouble accessing it.]

After being tempted to do email for a few minutes, we managed to set out around 10am. Our route took us up highway 14, then 395, onto highway 190 and into Death Valley. Though it was scheduled to take just over five hours, in the end we spent almost six and a half hours on the road. Hmm, could be something to do with nature presenting us with multiple photography opportunities. I’m sure you’ll see some of the results of that when Hubby gets a chance to blog.

It was a spectacular drive through a changing, but increasingly rugged, landscape. We were struck by the number of abandoned houses and other buildings – including something that looked like a barracks – along highway 14. Struck, but not surprised, as this was definitely one of those areas which made you wonder why anyone would live there. First stop at 10:30am was at the Red Cliffs Natural Preserve in the Red Rock Canyon State Park. As the name suggests, fabulous red cliffs.

After Red Rock, we drove through plains encircled by hills. Highway 14 is a long straight road running alongside the Sierra Nevada mountain range. It’s a curious contrast, the tall snowy mountains to the left, the dry plains to the left. I noticed on the map that the area is dotted with multiple named wells; and indeed the area is called “Indian Wells Valley”. How the Native American tribes ever survived out here is a mystery to us.

As 14 turns into 395, we were tickled by a roadside bill board with its enticing invitation to move: “Looking for a Few Good Doctors for the Uncrowded Eastern Sierra.” An inspired piece of marketing speak, but not, perhaps, quite an honest message. “Looking for Doctors who want to Live in the Desert, Miles from Anywhere” would be more like it.

As 395 trolls north, the landscape becomes more volcanic. This surprised us – we really hadn’t expected that at all, I guess because we now associate volcanoes with northern California, following our RV trip last summer - but there were ashes and cinders aplenty, including the Red Hill, a cinder cone that would have been worthy of Lassen.

We stopped to eat a quick sandwich lunch on the side of the road at Owen’s Dry Lake. This is a shimmering white plain on the horizon, ringed by the Sierra Nevada, Coso, and Inyo mountain ranges. Entering Death Valley National Park just after noon, we were impressed by the variety of colors all around, and particularly noticed the strong contrasts between the reds and blacks of the volcanic pumice.

At Father Crowley Point – named for a Roman Catholic priest who served the area for fifty or so years – we got out of the car for a short walk to the vista point overlooking Panamint Valley. In the distance, on the valley floor, you can see sand dunes and the remains of a lake – really nothing more than a damp sandy area. To the left and right the valley extends away into a misty haze, while the mountains loom in front. It should have taken us about 20 minutes to walk there and back, but we must have taken a hundred photos, so it took twice as long. On the way back to the RV, we met a family coming the other way which turned out to have children at the same school as our kids: The daughter recognized Deep Thought and greeted her by name. Honestly, you drive hundreds of miles….

Just before we headed to Furnace Creek, we made a final roadside stop at the Mesquite Flat. The thing that we really noticed there was the absolute quiet. Even Little Starlet was persuaded to stop talking long enough for us all to hear it.

We are now at the Furnace Creek campground, which is the “high gloss” facility in Death Valley. Hubby is slightly appalled by the lack of showers, but he’ll cope. (There’s actually a golf course a short distance away which seems madness to us, and a resort with palm trees. While we’re conserving water, they’re watering their super green lawns.) We spent an hour at the ranger program in the visitor center in the evening, listening to a talk about the 49ers and other pioneers who encountered, and frequently perished, in Death Valley. It was potentially quite interesting, but the presentation was dire and the kids got us to swear we wouldn’t make them go to another.