The Land of Silence: Part 2

Sarah and I were perched on a hill just in time for the waning moments of sunset. We pretty much ran half of the Badlands Loop trail to reach this vantage point before the sun slipped away. The night before, as the sun disappeared a bright orange ray cut through the navy blue of the distant mountains. It was between peaks from the trail that I noticed the band of light and it dissipated before I could get a clear vantage point. With another clear sky and a perch atop one of the dirt mounds I was confident I would capture the moment tonight. However as that sun dipped below the mountains again and the moment came for that orange beam to shoot down the hillside, nothing happened. The sun had found a straggling cloud behind the mountains that killed the beam.

 

Then next morning we grabbed a great breakfast in Furnace Creek, a little oasis surrounded by desert that includes the visitor center, restaurants, a resort, grass, palm trees and a golf course. From there we drove the main road as far south as we would journey on this trip. The road passed Devil's Golf Course, the Golden Canyon and Gower Gulch trail heads, and continued beyond Badwater Basin. Our destination was an unmarked parking lot hidden in the scrub brush. We had to rely on a map and the curves of the road to know when the turn was coming and still passed it the first time.


The trail would lead us up a deep washout canyon and into the mountains. It was a scorcher early on but the heat couldn't penetrate Willow Canyon. As the dirt walls guiding us turned to stone the heat dissipated, water began to flow and for the first time that weekend we found green vegetation. The trail became less of a trail and more trudging upstream to an unexpected sight for Death Valley, a waterfall. The 2 stage cascade served as an oasis from the heat and the crowds as Sarah and I enjoyed the cool canyon to ourselves.

After the canyon we cruised to our northern most attraction, the Mesquite Sand Dunes. I'd seen dunes before but never a dune field. As we summited our first dune it was a remarkable sight. A cul-de-sac of mountains led to a valley plain of scrub brush and dirt and in the middle of it all were piles of sand. Mother Nature was responsible for the collection of sand hills. It's a natural marvel, sand dunes. It takes a specific formation of landforms and weather to create. Wind patterns and locations play a major role in sculpting the dunes and each dune is entirely unique and ever changing. 

As the sand began to glow yellow, Sarah and I sought out a peak with a view and clean sand. The sand dunes are a popular attraction and this late in the day, the dunes were covered in footprints like the Marauders Map. We found the best seat we could and waited for the sun to set. I set up one camera for a timelapse overlooking the dune field with the mountains adjacent the setting sun to serve as the backdrop. My other camera sported my telephoto and was seeking abstract contours as harsh shadows descended. Once again I was in my photographic heaven staring at high lines of contrast and texture. 

I mentioned a slew of misfortune involving sunsets and that evening would turn happenstance into a pattern. Blue was the only occupant of the sky and had been all day. With the sun falling toward the horizon, my curse appeared. One sliver of a cloud had appeared, the only one as far as we could see, and it hung just atop the mountains the sun was about to set behind. The harsh contrast dissipated and the landscape became flat and dull. The sun dipped behind the mountains where it was smothered and the sky faded to black.

The next morning we left our hotel in Beatty and made our way into Death Valley. Our first stop was well before the "Welcome to Death Valley" sign. Every day we drove into the park we passed a sign for a ghost town just off the main road called Rhyolite. On our final day we decided to stop by and check out the small abandoned city. I enjoy ruins and buildings in states of decay, they are full of texture and mystery.

The larger, more intact buildings were fenced in which made the trip quick. However, a couple of the structures that had crumbled to ruins were accessible. Clearly the ghosts of Rhyolite had drawn others before us. Up and down every available inch of plaster were names, initials, and dates either written or etched into the surface. The crumbling city had become a bowl of alphabet soup. 

I've never understood the desire to deface nature or a landmark. Is it so important to leave a personal mark behind? As if anyone has ever been somewhere and gone "Hey FU! Wow, how cool is it were standing in the same place as (insert name starting with F here)". This has the beginnings of a lengthy rant so I'll cut it off here. This will probably be featured in its own blog post in the future.

Breakfast! Once again in Furnace Creek before our final destination of the trip. We made our way back the way we entered on day one and stopped where I first saw the golden mounds of the badlands. A fitting way to end the trip with yet another stroll through a washout trail called Twenty Mule Team Canyon named for the teams that hauled borax out of the area featuring, you guessed it, twenty mules. We were pressed for time so we didn't complete the 2.8 mile, out and back, hike. While we had toured the badlands region extensively, it was still exotic scenery that kept the camera active.

Death Valley is like Mother Nature's version of Ripley's Believe It Or Not. It is as off the grid as you can get while surrounded by crowds of people. A land where sound is depressed by emptiness, and cell phones are as useful as a face full of sand. Sarah and I hit most of the main attractions but there is much more to explore in Death Valley. You've probably seen photos of the curious Racetrack where boulders move across barren desert. There are mountain peaks to summit, backcountry roads to explore and endless trail systems. Whether you have a weekend or a week, there is plenty to see in Death Valley.