Well,this is a complete surprise. When we stayed in Stovepipe Wells three years ago we had no WiFi service whatsoever. The only access we had in Death Valley was a few times when we drove over to Furnace Creek for a meal and to hang around in their lounge there. I’d expected that it would be the same this time, or at best weak or available just in a common area. Surprise! It’s just fine, even in our room. Looking back on our post from three years ago, I’d forgotten that there normally was WiFi here, but they’d recently lost their reception tower in a storm.
So, if it stays like this we’ll be able to keep current over the next few days. A good thing, since with my memory anything over a day or two old quickly becomes a blur. ________
We’re both pretty groggy when the alarm goes off at six, set the night before to help us get out the door early. It’s a long drive to Death Valley, with the last several hours through remote, empty country and we want to make sure we arrive before dark. We pull out of the driveway at 7:30, unfortunately too early for us to be knocking on our host’s door on a Sunday morning to say goodbye and thank them for such a fine stay. I have a feeling we haven’t seen the last of Liz and George though. Maybe next time we’ll get them out on the bikes and shoot some video.
It’s a two hour drive to Bakersfield where Rachael has scouted out the Black Bear Diner as our breakfast spot, for what we plan as our main meal of the day. The Diner plays right into our game plan, serving up heaping plates sufficient to last us into tomorrow. Fortunately the previous hour’s drive through rhe plain, smoggy, dreary Central Valley hasn’t spoiled our appetites and we make the most of the situation.
Yikes! This looks sufficient. You can’t tell from the photo but Rachael has a very large ham slice under the toast.
After the depressing drive through the Central Valley it’s a relief when we see foothills gradually appearing through the smog not far outside of Bakersfield, and the sky gradually clears as we cross the Tehachapi Mountains and drop into Mojave where we stop to fill the tank before driving north through the Mojave Desert.
For Bill: a view he might recognize, from our gas stop north of Mojave.
The next three hours are spectacular drive through basin and range country that crosses through first the Searle Valley, then the Panamint, and finally dropping into Death Valley. All three valleys are striking and awe inspiring, Death Valley of course the most famously so. But really, the Panamint Valley and the Panamint Range that separates it from Death Valley are exceptional enough that they’re worth protection as a national park themselves.
We’ve driven this stretch of road before, the last time beginning from Borrego Springs, so we knew what to expect. Even so, it’s impossible not to be awe-stricken anew by the beauty and vastness of these exceptional places. Today though there’s something new - the basin in the Panamint Valley is blanketed with desert sunflowers, a phenomenon we’ve never seen before. I didn’t know flowers ever bloomed here at this time of year, but presumably it is a result of the destructive rains from a few months back.
Dropping into the Searles Valley. The white streak is dry Searles Lake, mined for its industrial minerals.
Bill ShaneyfeltIn the early 60s, Trona HS held the Desert-Inyo League high school track finals. By far the best track, but the chemical plants sulfurous smoke belching made it a horrible place to run. Really cleaned it up though! Reply to this comment 1 year ago
The town of Trona originated after prospector John Searles discovered borax here, rather than the gold and silver he was hoping for. For the next several decades borax was exported from here by mule teams.
The view across awesome Panamint Valley to the Panamint Range. When I first drove across this valley I thought it was Death Valley and kept waiting to arrive at one of the lodges. After driving across it for about fifteen miles I was startled to find myself climbing out the opposite side.
On Route 190, driving east into the Panamint Range. It’s hard to see where a road could pass through those mountains. At this point we’re inside the national park boundary, which stretches to include the northern end of Panamint Valley.
It’s a long climb, from the valley floor at about 1,500’ to the summit at 5,000’ Towne Pass eight miles away. It’s an even longer drop on the other side though to Death Valley - the elevation at Stovepipe Wells is 10’.
We arrive at Stovepipe Wells around 3:30 - early enough to get checked in, make a run to the store for milk and beer, and walk around a bit before the sun drops below the mountains and it’s suddenly chilly outside. It’s very quiet, with few people around and a surprising amount of bird activity - particularly the camp ravens, which are fearless enough to feel like pets. And there’s even a new bird for the year! I knew it would be extraordinary coming here again, but I certainly didn’t expect to add to my bird count too.
Is it a good sign or ominous to have a raven eyeing her every move when we check into our room?
Scott AndersonTo Bruce LellmanI’m hoping to get a shot of him perched on the car before I go. Maybe I should put out treats. Reply to this comment 1 year ago
Steve Miller/GrampiesIn Western mythology a Raven symbolizes death and bad luck. Native American mythology, on the other hand, sees Ravens as symbols of wisdom, balance and transformation. We say pick the lore that suits you best, in this case we would go with the Native American version. Reply to this comment 1 year ago
1 year ago