The Land of Silence: Part 1

Think you know what silence is? Maybe you think of a hike in the woods or a cabin by a lake. How about the relief of putting the kids down for a nap or when a tree falls with no one around? Have you ever experienced total silence, the complete absence of sound, so quiet your ears fight to find noise? If not, then you've never been to Death Valley National Park.

When you picture Death Valley you might imagine an arid desert, sand as far as the eye can see, or the classic cracked earth and an animal skull. Honestly that isn't far off, you just need to throw in God’s personal collection of unique desert landforms. There are fields of sand but they've piled up into dunes. The cracks in the earth can be dried out mud or a crystallized salt flat. Dry, yes, but water still drains down from the surrounding snow capped mountains. A landscape that endures the hottest temperatures in the country while also dipping below freezing at night.

Wherever you go in the park, it is silent, and I can't stress this enough, it is silent. You see cars driving in the distance, your head will hurt seeking the sound of the engine humming or the wheels grinding against the asphalt. It is outer space silent. You would expect it to be peaceful but the phenomenon is so unnatural that if you search for sound long enough your ears will start to hurt. It is that silent.

Sarah and I planned the trip to the lowest point in the U.S. on short notice, having received flight vouchers after a boomerang flight from/to Denver over the holidays. We ended up staying in tiny Beatty, Nevada, the definition of podunk and just an hour away from Pahrump. Beatty was just 45 minutes from the main attractions and about a third the cost of staying in the park.

Day one actually started in Las Vegas. After a late Thursday flight we spent the night in a Vegas hotel. The next morning we drove the Las Vegas strip, something Sarah has seen but I had not, before beginning our drive through nowhere. It took about two hours to reach the park. It wasn't long past the welcome sign that the landscape started to morph. The desolate plains of Nevada turned to hills that then turned to badlands.

When you hear badlands you probably think of South Dakota but Death Valley has a set as well. The hay colored mounds were the first wild landscape we saw and immediately I was giddy. We would spend a large portion of our time in the badlands but our first stop was a landscape even more bizarre. Devil’s Golf Course is part of the vast, flat valley in the park. The dried mud was as lumpy as a giant bowl of popcorn. Instead of buttery puffs, the ground was covered in rock salt that had been shaped into fragile razor blades by the wind and rain.

On really hot days they say you can hear the crystals popping like pop rocks. They pop even louder when you step on them. I tried my best to follow others footprints to preserve the endless plain of broken glass, feeling bad when a step resulted in a thundering crunch followed by the sound of my tennis shoes crying. That remorse vanished after I attempted to lay down on a bed of rock needles for some macro work. The golf course seemed to extend forever in every direction and it didn't take long to realize the scenery would be the same from the parking lot as walking twenty minutes. Rather than risk the twisted ankle and collision with a sea of knives, we drove back to the badlands for sunset.

The badlands were glowing like a pile of tungsten light bulbs as the sun sank closer to the mountains. I'd been perched for about an hour watching the setting sun move shadows through the hills from Zabriskie Point. Once I'd taken my fill of aerial shots Sarah and I decided to follow the 2.5 mile Badlands Loop to find a new angle for sunset. The trail wound through the golden dirt hills of what seemed like an otherworldly habitat. Most of the trail followed a washout track through tunnels of the sun's last light. The short loop brought us back to Zabriskie Point as the stars started to appear. As we drove out to Beatty I couldn't help but wonder what bizarre planet we had landed on.

Day three started late. Sarah and I had to pace ourselves for two days of nonstop hiking in an oven so we gave our bodies a chance to recharge with a hefty night of rest and a hearty breakfast at Mel’s Diner in Beatty. After a filling breakfast of proteins and starches we drove back to the badlands. The Badlands Loop was just a portion of the trail network that runs through the amber hills. The whole web included the Gower Gulch Trail, Golden Canyon Trail and a short out and back to Red Cathedral for a grand total of six miles. Today we would conquer the rest.

The trail wove through the badlands with little elevation gain and incredible views. The highlight was Red Cathedral, a formation of red rock columns stretching above the dirt hills. It required some climbing and a few tight squeezes for the camera bag but the view from the top was remarkable. I'd gotten used to seeing the gray and green Rockies in Colorado and looking out over brown and gold peaks was breathtaking. The majority of the hike followed the washout alleys around the wheat colored ant hills. A few areas revealed pastel greens, pinks and purples rock faces from high mineral deposits. By the end, the heat had broken down the amazement high and Sarah and I were ready for a break.

A little drive and a snack brought some energy back into our legs. Any lingering weariness evaporated when we stepped out at the lowest point in the United States. At 282 feet below sea level, Badwater Basin is one of the most popular attractions in Death Valley. Badwater Basin is a giant salt flat that was temporarily a lake. About two inches of water submerged the white crusted earth. The water created a mirror like reflection for the surrounding mountains and created a frenzy among the younger tourists. I had to trudge through the water a good ways to avoid all the selfie seekers jumping and dancing in the water. Oddly the water never appeared to get deeper. Eventually I was able to reach an undisturbed plot with some interesting cracks in the salt. Sarah even joined me after realizing the water hadn't gotten deeper and we took a few fun selfies of our own.

With our shoes covered in salt water we made our way back to the car, contemplating the possibility of a sunset. It had been overcast all day but the sheet of clouds was being chased off by endless blue sky. I decided to head back to Zabriskie Point to see if any good luck would come my way. The sky opened up but luck would not be on my side. In fact, this would be the first of a string of cursed sunsets.

That feels like a good cliff hanger to end on. Part two of the trip will be released soon with the second half of our adventure complete with waterfalls, sand dunes and you guessed it, more badlands!