Striated rocks (week 6)
As much as it felt great to shower, put on clean clothes, and sleep in a super comfy, fluffy bed, Luis and I both agreed that we prefer being outside in our cozy tent. Still, we had a lovely time in LA with our friends, but were ready to get back on the road, go explore, and get back into nature. After sending our laptop out for repairs (sadface), we took off to Death Valley.
The road followed foothills of giant mountains, where we saw the biggest wind farm either of us has ever seen. The wind gusted in both directions, making everyone wobble down the highway and tilting a semi truck halfway off its wheels.
After a long while we turned, still following the foothills. On one side of the wide valley, giant snow peaked mountains towered at over 8000 feet; on the other loomed mountains almost as tall, all scraggly, dark, and red: ancient lava flows. We crossed a salt pan with the occasional sand dune and dust devils. After a long while, we crossed the first valley of the park, and finally dipped over striated mountains in shades of brown, orange, pale green, pastel blue and yellow, into Death Valley.
The road followed foothills of giant mountains, where we saw the biggest wind farm either of us has ever seen. The wind gusted in both directions, making everyone wobble down the highway and tilting a semi truck halfway off its wheels.
After a long while we turned, still following the foothills. On one side of the wide valley, giant snow peaked mountains towered at over 8000 feet; on the other loomed mountains almost as tall, all scraggly, dark, and red: ancient lava flows. We crossed a salt pan with the occasional sand dune and dust devils. After a long while, we crossed the first valley of the park, and finally dipped over striated mountains in shades of brown, orange, pale green, pastel blue and yellow, into Death Valley.
It's the lowest place in the Americas, close to 300 feet below sea level; it is still sinking, slowly, as the mountains around it rise and pull apart from each other. It can get hot: temperatures of 57°C were recorded there, and the rocks, heated by the sun and the hot air, can reach up to 93°C!
It was an eerily beautiful place; we trekked out into the Mesquite sand dunes, went down to Badwater, the lowest point in the park, took a nap under some nice trees in Furnace Springs, and saw the entire valley from Dantes' View (really worth doing early in the morning). Their camping options were unappealing, RVs all crammed together on gravel lots, and most sites were occupied, so we grouchily continued out of the park - and found a nice, mostly empty, abandoned BLM campground to camp in just outside. Perfect! We had a spectacular view of the nearby mountains and took up our new hobby: collecting different types of bullet casings.
Continuing through bat country - I mean Nevada - suddenly all FM radio bands stopped; not even static for us to browse through. Signs prompted us to turn our headlights on during daylight. I waited for a tunnel...none. So I checked the map: we were driving along the southern border of the Nellis Air Force Range, better known as Area 51. Weird!
Then, to Vegas, though neither of us are attracted to the glamour, and we both strongly dislike gambling. Still, when in Vegas...so we stopped at the last Trader Joe's we would find until Reno, had some very unfortunate tacos, drove down the obnoxious but albeit interesting strip, and got out as fast as we could. From an art and architectural standpoint, it was really quite neat to see - but I can't help but feel that all the art in all its forms are greatly overshadowed by the grossness of it all and all that Vegas stands for. That feeling was accentuated on our way out of town as we drove past the gaudy golden "T" tower.
We didn't know where we would sleep that night. At best, a beautiful camping spot on BLM land; at worst, we'd opt for a cheap hotel. Luckily, my map indicated a campsite little farther out, so we pushed on and arrived in a beautiful area near the Virgin River with a view of striated red and yellow mountains. We quickly decided to stay a couple of days, and to backtrack to the Valley of Fire for a day trip (which came highly recommended).
We took the trail down to the river and I was attacked by a vicious "jumping" cholla! This cactus has tons of little barbs on its spines. I was amazed at how much it stuck. I couldn't pull it out by hand; Luis had to get his pliers and yank it out by the spine. I was lucky it only went in a few millimeters.
The Valley of Fire - yet another awesome sight. Deep red rock formations rose up all around us, odd-shaped and full of layers and ledges and holes. Farther up, the red hills mingled with white ones, striped with yellows, oranges, and purples. We were very happy we ended up going!
It was an eerily beautiful place; we trekked out into the Mesquite sand dunes, went down to Badwater, the lowest point in the park, took a nap under some nice trees in Furnace Springs, and saw the entire valley from Dantes' View (really worth doing early in the morning). Their camping options were unappealing, RVs all crammed together on gravel lots, and most sites were occupied, so we grouchily continued out of the park - and found a nice, mostly empty, abandoned BLM campground to camp in just outside. Perfect! We had a spectacular view of the nearby mountains and took up our new hobby: collecting different types of bullet casings.
Continuing through bat country - I mean Nevada - suddenly all FM radio bands stopped; not even static for us to browse through. Signs prompted us to turn our headlights on during daylight. I waited for a tunnel...none. So I checked the map: we were driving along the southern border of the Nellis Air Force Range, better known as Area 51. Weird!
Then, to Vegas, though neither of us are attracted to the glamour, and we both strongly dislike gambling. Still, when in Vegas...so we stopped at the last Trader Joe's we would find until Reno, had some very unfortunate tacos, drove down the obnoxious but albeit interesting strip, and got out as fast as we could. From an art and architectural standpoint, it was really quite neat to see - but I can't help but feel that all the art in all its forms are greatly overshadowed by the grossness of it all and all that Vegas stands for. That feeling was accentuated on our way out of town as we drove past the gaudy golden "T" tower.
We didn't know where we would sleep that night. At best, a beautiful camping spot on BLM land; at worst, we'd opt for a cheap hotel. Luckily, my map indicated a campsite little farther out, so we pushed on and arrived in a beautiful area near the Virgin River with a view of striated red and yellow mountains. We quickly decided to stay a couple of days, and to backtrack to the Valley of Fire for a day trip (which came highly recommended).
We took the trail down to the river and I was attacked by a vicious "jumping" cholla! This cactus has tons of little barbs on its spines. I was amazed at how much it stuck. I couldn't pull it out by hand; Luis had to get his pliers and yank it out by the spine. I was lucky it only went in a few millimeters.
The Valley of Fire - yet another awesome sight. Deep red rock formations rose up all around us, odd-shaped and full of layers and ledges and holes. Farther up, the red hills mingled with white ones, striped with yellows, oranges, and purples. We were very happy we ended up going!
We saw a notice for high winds, and surely enough they picked up close to mid day, whipping sand around. Luckily, we came desert-prepared, and were the only happy hikers with goggles to keep out the pesky sand. By mid afternoon the landscape became eerily dusty, almost surreal. The winds kept up, and, tired from the hikes, we headed back to our campsite.
Winds blew dust around, blending massive beige clouds into the menacingly grey sky resting over the mesa. Tumbleweed and other debris rushed across the road; I couldn't help but be reminded of the start of the Wizard of Oz. Once on the highway, it got worse; we crossed a semi truck flattened on its side on the highway divider. The mountains we were headed for looked even darker...and sure enough, we hit rain on our way back. Can't complain, really; we've had great weather so far!
The rain, rather than washing things off, left a new layer of dust everywhere. We had a cold breakfast sitting in the car that morning, listening to Mexican radio. Luckily it cleared up by the evening, and we decided to stay another night so we could hike around the area without getting soaked.
Winds blew dust around, blending massive beige clouds into the menacingly grey sky resting over the mesa. Tumbleweed and other debris rushed across the road; I couldn't help but be reminded of the start of the Wizard of Oz. Once on the highway, it got worse; we crossed a semi truck flattened on its side on the highway divider. The mountains we were headed for looked even darker...and sure enough, we hit rain on our way back. Can't complain, really; we've had great weather so far!
The rain, rather than washing things off, left a new layer of dust everywhere. We had a cold breakfast sitting in the car that morning, listening to Mexican radio. Luckily it cleared up by the evening, and we decided to stay another night so we could hike around the area without getting soaked.