10-04-09

The desert windstorm rocked the bus all night. I slept like a baby being rocked in a crib.
I got up early to go see the sights before it got very hot. There was a light dusting of sand on the hard surfaces inside the bus from blowing through the windows.
I drove my Jeep to Zabriskie Point to watch the sunrise. When I got there there were already about 30 people with their cameras ready, travelers from all over the world. I didn’t hear one word of English for at least 15 minutes. When the sun rose the wind stopped. The valley and mountains were spectacular. People hustled about to get good shots. I crawled out on a ledge and sat for awhile. When I crawled back up a man in a green sweatshirt said, “I took a few photos of you out there”. I said, “Thanks, now I’m a star”. He told me how he liked to get people in his shots for perspective. I’d been doing my best to photograph nature without people in my shots, so I was intrigued by his idea.
I drove to Twenty Mule Team Canyon, a short one-way gravel road through a canyon. It was a little rough, but not too difficult. The only problem I had was when I climbed up a hill on foot to get a picture of my Jeep down below. I started to slip. The sand gave way and I almost couldn’t stop. It took awhile to brace myself. Before I got to Death Valley I would worry sometimes when making slightly risky maneuvers that I would be hurt without health insurance. In Death Valley I caught myself worrying that if I got hurt I’d be dead, because I’m alone and exposure would probably do me in before I was stumbled across.
I drove toward Dante’s View, about a 20 minute drive. There was a sign that read, “15% Grade Last ¼ Mile”. The steepest grade I’d been on was 10% crossing the Tetons from Wyoming to Idaho. That was in the bus, this was in the Jeep, so I wasn’t worried.
As I got close to Dante’s View my temperature gauge was climbing, even though it was still cool outside. Just before the last ¼ mile and 15% grade I overheated and had to stop. I lost some antifreeze, but stopped before I had a major malfunction. I waited. It cooled. I still had plenty of antifreeze so I continued up.
The view was awe inspiring, definitely worth the trip. I stood looking down at Badwater Basin 5000’ below. The valley was vast and hazy. The highway I planned to take later through Death Valley was barely visible, just a thin black stripe on the desert sand.
I walked down a short trail to a lookout point and saw the man in the green sweatshirt. I joked, “Do you want me to climb down there to give you some perspective?” I was surprised when he very seriously said, “Yes, that would be great”. He just wanted my out on a ledge again, not 5000‘ below. I climbed out and shot some pictures of my own. He was from Pittsburg, originally from the Netherlands. He was writing about California for a travel magazine. I never asked which one, but was excited to get a picture of my cowboy hat into real circulation.
When I drove back from Dante’s View I realized why my Jeep had overheated. The whole 20 minute drive was an ascent, even the parts that appeared flat were a climb. I didn’t touch my gas pedal for at least 5 miles.
I went back to the campsite. In the time I was gone almost everyone had left. No one wanted to stay during the day, it was too hot. I hitched my Jeep to the bus, dumped and filled my water tanks and headed south.
I stopped at Badwater, the lowest point in the USA, 282’ below sea level. I walked out onto the basin. It was white, flat and went for miles. There is a small pool of water. A long time ago a man couldn’t get his horse to drink there, so he called it “Badwater” and the name stuck. The water isn’t poisonous, but it is very salty. If you dig down less than a foot in the basin you’ll hit water. Ironic that such a dry place has water underneath.
A tour bus of Italians showed up. I talked to the bus driver for a few minutes. They were doing a loop San Francisco. Next he’d be bringing them up the Tioga Pass into Yosemite. I looked at his massive bus and chuckled, “good luck”.
The drive through the rest of Death Valley was long, quiet, and serene. Although it was flat, the road rolled up and down, left and right over the desert sand. There were a few other travels, but not many. I passed a few bicyclists and their support vans. I stopped to talk to one crew. They were from British Columbia on a 500 mile ride.
I safely made it through Death Valley and headed to Las Vegas to find a good parking lot, internet signal and food. Vegas traffic was pleasant on a Sunday afternoon. I stopped at a small casino, ate at the buffet and slept in the parking lot.
I was about 12 miles from Hoover Dam. Signs said, “No Trucks, or Busses on Hoover Dam”. I’d wanted to drive over it, so I needed to do a bit of research to see if motorhomes were allowed. Either way I would check it out the next day.