Death Valley – A desolate, haunting beauty

Leaving San Diego, the plan had been to stop overnight near the famed Potato Chip rock on Mt Woodson, hike up in the morning , take the necessary photos and then head out for Death Valley after that.

Part one of the plan went well – an overnight stay in Ramona, a short drive beyond Mt Woodson. There I frequented my first American “Dive bar” – the Turkey Inn. Well, dive bar is probably a bit harsh – it’s a locals hangout – $3 beers, pool table, barmaids of indeterminate age you get the picture.

It was the day of the San Bernadino shootings, which I found out about only when I sat down and glanced up at the screen. One of the joys of travelling is the dislocation from daily events – it’s hard to keep track of what day of the week it is, and given I’m showcasing audio books and spotify to Charlotte,  without the news I was completely distanced from the events of the real world.

Issuing the “All’s well”  klaxon back to my sister at home, I settled in to catch up with the news. Horrified and saddened, I eventually snuck out – early to bed meant early to rise for the morning hike.

Early to rise, I suppose, is a subjective term. You’d think 7 am would be early enough to be one of the first people on the trail, but not today. Driving back to Mt Woodson, the car park and surrounding areas are teeming with cars, and people.

Given numerous warnings at the likelihood of a  long wait at the top to get on the rock and take a photo (see below), I balanced a 6.4 mile hard hike, a likely hr wait and my inherent dislike of heights against the need to tick an item of the “things to do in San Diego” list and decided it wasn’t worth it

Ultimately it was a wise decision, the drive out to Death Valley taking a little longer than advertised. I got there mid afternoon, a coupe of hours before sunset (which is currently around 4.30 pm!)

It gave me time to see some scenery on the way in, like Zabriskie Point, before arriving at the Visitors Centre in Furnace Creek.

There I spent a really informative 20 mins with the rangers, being advised on everything from campsites to things to see and do. They recommended the free Emigrant Campground about 40 mins away, with a stop at the  Mesquite Flat Sand Dunes on the way.

We took the advice – and I’m glad we did.

We got to the dunes with about 30 mins of sunlight left for some spectacular views.

Finally the campsite, which we got to right on dusk, giving me just enough time to set up dinner before things turned pitch black.

All the things for a perfect evening under the stars, warm lentil soup, hot tortillas, Sriracha Sauce, a little light reading… Seems like there’s only one thing that didn’t make the photo – I suppose it was probably in my hand at the time.

It’s not often I regret things, and my phone and ipad have been brilliant on the trip so far, capturing images and videos in ridiculously good detail. However neither of them could make even a half decent effort at capturing the night sky, which is so magnificent and incredible in the remoteness of Death Valley.

A literal ribbon of stars light up the night. The milky way lies like a muslin scarf across the darkness – you almost feel like you can reach out and bunch it up in your hand, it’s so “present”. This sky is not the one you see in cities, or even out in the country. The nearest towns are hundreds of miles away and the local light have deliberately been reduced to their lowest luminescence. We see the sky as our ancestors must have – thousands and thousands of pinpricks of light of varying intensity and size, silently demonstrating your own insignificance, whilst simultaneously opening the door to the myriad and endless possibilities of your imagination.

It’s breathtaking in its grandeur, and I spend a few hours just lying on my back and looking up.

Perhaps it’s just as well that there are no photos, for the effect is not borne from sight alone – it’s the silence, the openness of the desert, the tendrils of nature and the outdoors snaring each and every one of the senses at the same time.

Finally, having wantonly ingested all that this night has to offer, and then some, I slide silently into Charlotte’s welcoming embrace, both diminished and enhanced as a person.