As I left you last time, I had pulled into the Goodale Creek campsite to spend the night. The name Goodale is a bit ironic because there are signs posted that the local water isn't potable. The name makes me want to have a beer instead. There were about 3 other RV's at the campsite which has its disadvantages. People using generators to power their satellite TV connections well into the evening has a tendency to take away from the natural sounds and makes you feel like the neighbor is mowing the lawn. In this area it didn't matter too much because of a loud and steady wind that was howling out of the north, turning my attempts to set up camp into an exercise in flying the tent.
The area itself is breathtaking. The imposing Sierras rise out of the high valley like an massive fortress that stretches for miles and includes Kings Canyon National Park and Mount Whitney, the highest peak in the Lower 48. Just the drive down Hwy 395 is worth it to see this unbelievable landscape.
Leaving the camp, I traveled south through the Owens Valley.
This valley has a sad recent history. Owens Lake used to be a huge ancient natural lake giving life to the local environment and farming communities. In L.A.'s quest for water, several streams feeding the lake were diverted back in 1913 to the Los Angeles Aqueduct and the lake dried up, leaving a barren, dusty wasteland. At right is a picture of what used to be Owens Lake.
Proceeding east, I reached Death Valley National Park. At over 3 million acres, the park is absolutely huge and there are a week's worth of things to see. As I approached Stovepipe Wells, I was confronted with one of the reasons this place is named as it is. A powerful wind was blowing from the north and in the distance you could see the storm ripping through the area
The lower band of clouds in the photo taken from 5-10 miles away aren't clouds at all, but dust and sand blowing (left to right) off of the dunes north of Stovepipe. Entering into it was like visiting a living Hell. I got out of the car to pay the $10 entrance fee and within seconds I had gravel in my mouth, dirt in my hair and sand in my eyes. An airborne cactus would be freaking devastating. The natural forces at work here were awesome. Needless to say, I was pessimistic about finding a good campsite for the evening.
Luckily, the dust storm was localized to the northern section of the park and by the time I reached Furnace Creek, things had died down. I talked to a park ranger and found out about some great places to camp. There are tons of old mining roads (Borax was first discovered and mined in this region) and you are allowed to drive them and camp anywhere as long as you are 2 miles away from the paved main road. The Rig is not really geared for major offroading but the backcountry roads are pretty good and easily passable. Rollin in my hoop-ride, hittin switches. Death Valley driveby fo all my bizzitches.
I drove up the Hole in the Wall trail, parked about 3 miles in and pulled together the backpack. Think of what it would look like to hike on the moon and you are probably visualizing this eastern portion of D.V. which is part of the Funeral Mountains. I only hiked in about 2-3 miles
but that was plenty far to see some of the typical terrain and eerie cave-pocked hills. Natural trails lead up ancient flood washes. Everything is fragile, shifting and unstable. The hills are like dried mud mixed and coated with shale and gravel and the ground constantly crumbles under your feet when you walk. I found a soft place to camp and went to sleep listening to nothing. The silence was deafening.
In the morning I grubbed
some tasty oatmeal w/banana and tea, and took one last shot as I touched the ancient gods of the Valley. Ommmmmm.... Kidding. What a day, though!
The area itself is breathtaking. The imposing Sierras rise out of the high valley like an massive fortress that stretches for miles and includes Kings Canyon National Park and Mount Whitney, the highest peak in the Lower 48. Just the drive down Hwy 395 is worth it to see this unbelievable landscape.
Leaving the camp, I traveled south through the Owens Valley.
This valley has a sad recent history. Owens Lake used to be a huge ancient natural lake giving life to the local environment and farming communities. In L.A.'s quest for water, several streams feeding the lake were diverted back in 1913 to the Los Angeles Aqueduct and the lake dried up, leaving a barren, dusty wasteland. At right is a picture of what used to be Owens Lake.Proceeding east, I reached Death Valley National Park. At over 3 million acres, the park is absolutely huge and there are a week's worth of things to see. As I approached Stovepipe Wells, I was confronted with one of the reasons this place is named as it is. A powerful wind was blowing from the north and in the distance you could see the storm ripping through the area
The lower band of clouds in the photo taken from 5-10 miles away aren't clouds at all, but dust and sand blowing (left to right) off of the dunes north of Stovepipe. Entering into it was like visiting a living Hell. I got out of the car to pay the $10 entrance fee and within seconds I had gravel in my mouth, dirt in my hair and sand in my eyes. An airborne cactus would be freaking devastating. The natural forces at work here were awesome. Needless to say, I was pessimistic about finding a good campsite for the evening.Luckily, the dust storm was localized to the northern section of the park and by the time I reached Furnace Creek, things had died down. I talked to a park ranger and found out about some great places to camp. There are tons of old mining roads (Borax was first discovered and mined in this region) and you are allowed to drive them and camp anywhere as long as you are 2 miles away from the paved main road. The Rig is not really geared for major offroading but the backcountry roads are pretty good and easily passable. Rollin in my hoop-ride, hittin switches. Death Valley driveby fo all my bizzitches.
I drove up the Hole in the Wall trail, parked about 3 miles in and pulled together the backpack. Think of what it would look like to hike on the moon and you are probably visualizing this eastern portion of D.V. which is part of the Funeral Mountains. I only hiked in about 2-3 miles
but that was plenty far to see some of the typical terrain and eerie cave-pocked hills. Natural trails lead up ancient flood washes. Everything is fragile, shifting and unstable. The hills are like dried mud mixed and coated with shale and gravel and the ground constantly crumbles under your feet when you walk. I found a soft place to camp and went to sleep listening to nothing. The silence was deafening.In the morning I grubbed
some tasty oatmeal w/banana and tea, and took one last shot as I touched the ancient gods of the Valley. Ommmmmm.... Kidding. What a day, though!
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