On Super Bowl Sunday I flew to SoCal to connect with my son. The next day we’re driving to Death Valley National Park. As usual, I have not prepared nearly enough. My survival plan will be: Adhere to a strict diet of muscle relaxers while in Death Valley, hoping to mask the pain for a few days and fool my body into thinking its as young as my son’s.
The car ride is over five hours and since I’m not trusting of other people’s driving, my son very much included; I drive most of the way. If anyone knows how to wrench a back, it’s me. We got a late start and after driving two hours we came across a questionable looking Burger King. We decided to drive another half hour, figuring at that point we’d be around the halfway mark to Death Valley. We were on Rt. 395 which became a single lane road that ran for over a 100 miles with nothing on either side. And I mean NOTHING! Also amazing – not one car was ahead of us the rest of the time we were on 395. When you’re driving on a desolate road for that distance, seeing absolutely nothing, after a while you get the feeling that you were left off the group txt message that should have alerted you about a nuclear attack that you happen to be driving into. Back to important matters, a severe case of “Hangry” has set in and my son did the best he could to avoid getting his head chewed off. After the missed BK opportunity, the first eatery we ran into was inside Death Valley. It looked to be a left over oasis from the 1800s. Again we passed and wound up having lunch at 4PM when we arrived at our motel. Something a bit quirky - we arrived at the motel at 3:45PM and asked if we could check in. No other patrons were in sight, so we thought this was a simple ask. With a bit of a militant attitude, we were told that we could not check in till 4PM. I’m thinking well that’s kind of off, but no biggie, the restaurant was a few feet away so we grabbed lunch and came back to check in. At this point the line to check in was out the door.
Death Valley is a massive national park. About 90% of it is in California and 10% in Nevada. Death Valley holds the modern day record as the hottest place on earth. It was recorded in the early 1900s at 134 degrees Fahrenheit – hence our February expedition. There are multiple signs posted by the Parks department explaining that you want to be careful while at the park because helicopters cannot fly in extreme heat. The signs go on to say, so if you’re injured in a remote area, like you decide it would be fun to play with a big rattle snake and he bites you, they will not be able to get help to you before you die. I memorized the verbiage on the sign and repeated it to my son every time I saw him leave a trail and head for some scrambling that I’m confident would be impossible for me to follow. The Park landscape is varied but for the most part, a good description would be, “Other Worldly.” There are super white sand dunes that were used by George Lucas during the filming of two of his Star Wars movies. The general store has a map that identifies the locations where filming occurred. Naturally I only saw that map on the way out of the park, but I did pick up a Death Valley Star Wars t-shirt as a memento. There are mountain ranges that have multiple types of minerals laced throughout them. The colors are spectacular greens, oranges, purples, reds and whites. And there are great viewing points that overlook the various basins in the park. Two thousand years ago the main basin was a 30 foot deep lake – can you say Global Warming? Scientists believe the reason that the lake eventually disappeared is because there are four significant mountain ranges that sit between the Pacific Ocean and Death Valley. Rain cannot consistently make it over that many mountain ranges. Having said that, when it does rain in Death Valley, like once a year, it’s usually torrential. You need to get yourself and your vehicle to higher ground as the flooding becomes deadly fast.
Our motel is a massive complex of old single story structures, looking like something out of Schitt’s Creek. The rooms are sparse with paper thin walls that separate the rooms. We never met our next door neighbor but we got to know his nightly ritual. At 3AM he’d put his TV on with the volume maxed out. At the same time he’d intermittently be on the phone, screaming over the TV volume with what might have been family members. They must have enjoyed the ranting almost as much as me. Then at 6AM he’d leave the room, get in his car and drive off. We wouldn’t see or hear from him until the next night at 3AM.
The first morning in Death Valley I’m up early due to prince charming next door as well as being on east coast time. I leave the room looking for a cup of coffee while my son sleeps in. This becomes a ritual as my son and I are generally on a ten hour time difference no matter what planet we’re on. It’s a nice morning, and the sites from the motel parking lot are extremely, yes, otherworldly. I’m thinking this is what the moon, or mars might look like. I walk to the restaurant and see a sign posted on the entry door stating, “No Power, No Idea when it might come back on.” I go to the front desk and ask for details. There were none to be had. The person behind the counter didn’t seem concerned or feel moved to find out what’s going on, or when the power might come back. I come to the conclusion that people in Death Valley live by their own code. The phrase, “sense of urgency” is not in that code. I decide to try to call my wife and make sure nothing apocalyptic has happened. The motel rooms have no phones and they also do not have Wi-Fi. In Death Valley, they want you off technology and seeing the sites. (I’m thinking it’s probably best to leave some clues that we were there.) As I’m walking back to the room, a mild breeze picks up, nothing significant. The temperature is about 40 degrees, so much for breaking records. Lowest recorded temp in Death Valley was 20 degrees in 1990. I have a long history of breaking things, so I’m thinking this record might still be up for grabs.
I get back to our room, open the curtains & shades in an attempt to rally my son. I head back out walking across the street to the general store thinking maybe they have their own generator and hot coffee can be had. I’m half right. They have a generator, but it is only supporting the store’s refrigerator. It’s 40 degrees out with a breezy drizzle, I’m not in the mood for ice coffee. I might sing a different tune in the summer when the temp climbs to 116 degrees regularly. The store is bustling as everyone is coming in looking for something. One woman lets us all know she drove 30 minutes to the next town looking for coffee and found out that all of Death Valley has no power. The situation was very reminiscent of our neighborhoods when hurricane sandy hit in 2012. Crowds of people were in the Kings supermarket looking to use the three power outlets in their tiny eatery. Anyone with a multiport power strip was royalty.
With non-perishable breakfast treats in hand (Devil Dogs, Twinkies, and Ring Dings), I head back to the room. The wind is picking up now. Back in our room, my son has gotten himself together and we enjoy a nutritious breakfast and prepare to head out. Wind, sand, and rain is now blowing sideways with exceptional velocity. We hop in our car as I think, “Is this really a good idea, or is this just Death Valley and I need to suck it up? “As I’m about to pull out, I can feel the wind start to pick the car up off the ground. With visions of being blown off the road and weeks later the rangers finding our remains…after being eaten by the sand people, I make a management type decision. We head back to our room and wait another hour before successfully launching.
Over the next two and half days we saw amazing sights. One of the great things about Death Valley is you can see a ton of jaw dropping sites by taking a short walk from your car. I did test myself on two challenging hikes into canyons. I’m happy to report, there were no injuries and the wild geologic sites made the endeavors well worth it. When we stopped for gas (at six dollars a gallon) I popped the gas cap door cover. It was packed with sand.
During the ride home on single lane Rt. 395 there were a number of trucks ahead of us. I felt like I was in a Speed Racer cartoon because there are short stretches where the highway goes from one to two lanes. This is to let the trucks move over so cars can speed ahead. The only problem is that this passing lane lasts only a short distance. When the opportunity comes everyone puts a death grip on their steering wheel and hits the gas hard to ensure passing before the lane disappears. Poor timing and you become the ignition for a colossally explosive accident that looks like something out of, “Mad Max Beyond Thunder Dome.” I thought I was being punked because on a number of occasions I was the only driver who didn’t get to pass which totally frosted me.
On the last full day in Death Valley we drove to the top of Dantes Point. It’s at about 5,500 feet of elevation and pretty much the highest viewing spot in DV. It looks down on Badwater Basin, the lowest spot in North America – 282 feet below sea level. The view is awe inspiringly cool. We arrived at Dantes Point in the morning. It was about 35 degrees and with the very stiff wind-chill, it felt like 200 below. My son used a covid facemask to provide some level of protection for his face - genius. We got a couple of good looks in and before we turned into icicles, decided to head back to our car. As we made that decision a couple who looked about five years older than me approached and asked if we’d like them to take a picture of us. The man looked envious and said to me, “I’d give anything for my son to take a trip like this with me.” After biting my tongue, I did everything I could not to say, “Really, I’ll Trade Ya?” Lastly, it’s amazing how complete strangers can not only be generous, but also re-enlighten you about what’s important in life.
