Death Valley National Park: Mosiac Canyon & Artist's Palette - Last Hurrah

Death Valley Last Day – 9/17/11 - Mosiac Canyon & Artist’s Palette – 3 Miles

We spent a peaceful, dry, comfortable cool/warm night.  I might or might not have heard a little snoring from a nearby tent.  We were in hiker heaven after summiting the big MW.  (Does anyone call it that or did I just make it up?)

We took a minute to cruise through the cozy little Lone Pine Camp- ground that we had occupied in the dark.  How’s this for a front porch view?

A hotel room in Las Vegas was waiting for us but first we had some unfinished business back in Death Valley, a hike and a scenic drive that we shaved from our itinerary earlier in the week.  We dropped off those infernal bear canisters at the Visitor Center, waved goodbye to Lone Pine, and headed east. 

First stop:  Mosaic Canyon, a popular little hike near the mirage of Stovepipe Wells.  Did we really feel like hiking after the last three days?  Answer:  Yes!  No elevation gain and no loaded backpacks maketh a cheerful hiker.  What a contrast this hot, short, easy walk was to just 24 hours earlier, the cold, steep, grueling summit day.  (Funny thing, though, in the canyon all of us complained of aching calves.) 

Mosaic Canyon is famous for its mosaic breccia and smooth marble walls.  It alternates from narrow slots to very wide open areas.  The guideline that I have learned still applied:  gradually walk up until you turn around and walk down.

Silky smooth walls

Carolyn walking up the narrow slot

Smooth rock and rough breccia flowing over it

A bit of scrambling was involved going up Mosaic Canyon until we hit this spot called Upper Dry Falls, a dead end – or was it?  Jeff’s GPS wanted to go further, but I did not.  So while he and Carolyn and Dolores climbed up a side wall, I began a leisurely backtrack.  The air was still, the sky was brilliant blue and I had the place to myself. 

I found a shady spot to lie down on a smooth marble slab and indulged in a little quiet meditation time (aka a siesta).  It’s good to pause and appreciate the fact that you may only be in this particular place one time in your life and say a prayer of thanks.  

I left behind a tiny cairn saying “I was here.”

Jeff in another narrow slot

After conquering Mosaic Canyon we drove along Highway 190, stopping to photograph the signs we had previously whizzed by on our way to trailheads.

Welcome, y’all!

Looks inviting, huh?

Our last hurrah in Death Valley was a cruise along Artist’s Drive and particularly Artist’s Palette, a mind-blowing area for which I cannot write an accurate description.  Here are some of Jeff’s fine photos:

We waved goodbye to Death Valley and drove for the final time to Las Vegas for a hotel room, a hot shower (second one in 9 days), a good meal and more furious packing to be ready for our flight back home the next day.  At the restaurant we celebrated Dolores’ birthday, congratulated ourselves on our summit success, and laughed long and loud at our mishaps.

By now my hiking and blog-reading friends are familiar with my mixed bag of emotions on these hiking trips:  a bit of moaning and whining mixed with a lot of awe and gratitude.  I need a little time between the experience and the writeup to digest the events, sift through the photos, and evaluate the experience through the 20/20 of hindsight.  The answer to the question, “Would you do it again?” is inevitably “YES.”  The physical discomfort (pain) and emotional rollercoaster (insanity) are temporary, but the memories are forever.

Here I am, safely returned over those peaks from a journey far more beautiful and strange than anything I had hoped for or imagined--how is it that this safe return brings such regret?  ~Peter Matthiessen

“I try to end each day saying, ‘I am glad I did,’ rather than, ‘I wish I had.’” ~Barbara J. McMorrow

Death Valley National Park: Telescope Peak

Death Valley Day 4 – Telescope Peak – 12.3 Miles

And now for something completely different…

We’ve hiked through salt, sand, rocks and the Garden of Eden, all in the constant oppressive heat.  Today’s hike seemed a little like home.

Telescope Peak is the highest point in Death Valley National Park, rising up from the desert floor to top out at 11,050 feet.  Lots of reasons to be excited about this adventure:  time to stretch our legs on one long hike, test the effects of altitude, the trailhead only one mile from our campground, and best of all, cool temps!

Another fun fact:  Mahogany Flats, where the trail for Telescope Peak trail begins, is the highest campground in Death Valley, one mile further up the gravel road past our Thorndike home, at an altitude of 8,200 feet.  (For you statistics people, our 6.2-mile trek to the summit gained 2,850 feet.) 

As we were preparing to leave camp, a small army of utility trucks rumbled past on their way up to a communications facility on Rogers Peak.  Suddenly our remote hike didn’t seem so remote. 

I shivered in the deliciously cool morning chill as we stepped onto the trail.  No worries about losing our way or each other on the wide open mountainside.  Early autumn flowers drew us along and each photo op was better than the one before.

Indian paintbrush

There she looms – our first look at Telescope Peak

Tree hugging the mountainside

At Arcane Meadows the trail switched from one side of the mountain to the other.  Something about a rock cairn makes people want to leave their own as a statement.

Twisted sisters

The trail turned slightly westward and skirted around Bennett Peak (which Jeff climbed on the return trek).  Looking down into Panamint Valley – this photo doesn’t show them, but we could see Panamint Dunes where we had struggled through the sand just yesterday afternoon

The trail continued to a saddle south of Bennett Peak - Telescope Peak looking very steep and imposing

At the saddle, looking down into the salt flats Badwater Basin – hey, we were there two days ago (Jeff's photo).

Close up of bristlecones

Magnificent bristlecone pine tree (Jeff's photo)

The last mile was a steep climb eased by great switchbacks.  My steps became slower and slower and I had to stop several times – lack of oxygen or just out of shape?  I was the last one up the final steep push.

Success!   The summit was surprisingly small, bare rock with a pile of rocks on top of it and a box containing a trail log, a first aid kit, some Boy Scout troop patches and a near-empty bottle of Jack Daniel’s.  I love hikers, don’t you?

Don’t look now, but there are some ominous clouds boiling up back there

Dolores signing the trail log

Clouds getting worse 

After just a few minutes of smiles and photos, Jeff suddenly announced he was getting out of there, so we quickly headed for lower ground.  At the bottom of the steep mile we stopped to eat quickly in the shelter of scrubby trees.  No lingering, though, as the clouds grew more and more threatening.  The return hike was at a very fast pace. 

Trail across rock scree – reminded me of Croagh Patrick in Ireland

Carolyn on the trail

With less than a mile to go, light rain began to fall and I stopped to put on rain gear.  We were all spread out in our individual zones, making our way down.  Then I heard thunder rumbling behind me and I began to jog, remembering how quickly we were overcome by our midnight storm on Sunday night.  Even worse than huddling in a tent, I was exposed on the side of a mountain with metal hiking poles in my hand. 

Of course, we all arrived at the car unscathed and congratulated ourselves on summiting Telescope Peak.  This was perhaps my favorite Death Valley hike because of the cool temperature and bird’s eye views into the valleys.

An added bonus of finishing a hike in daylight - we were finally able to check out an incredible feature near our campsite that we had been driving past for five days, these Wildrose charcoal kilns used to burn wood down into charcoal, which was then used as fuel for smelters at the lead and silver mines in Death Valley.  The kilns have not been used since 1879.  They look like they will stand here forever.  

 

We decided to skip our next hike at Mosaic Canyon because of the late hour, said goodbye to Death Valley, and drove to the little town of Lone Pine, the jumping-off point for our next challenge – a three-day, two-night backpack trip to summit Mount Whitney, the highest point in the lower 48 states.   

And even more important, our first shower in five days. 

Poems are made by fools like me,
But only God can make a tree. ~Joyce Kilmer

Death Valley National Park: Black Point Canyon, Darwin Falls and Panamint Dunes

Death Valley/Mt Whitney Trip – 9/12/11 – Black Point Canyon/Darwin Falls/Panamint Dunes – 15.5 Miles

So what is your first thought at the mention of “Death Valley”?  (Go ahead, take a minute, I’ll wait…)

Well, there is more to it than that.  Today’s adventures took us from rock canyons to waterfalls to sand dunes, all within the boundaries of Death Valley National Park.  

We “slept in” until 7:00 a.m. because all our treks were located on “our” side of the park.  By now we don’t know how to eat breakfast unless we’re in a moving car, so soon we were on our way to the first hike of the day, Black Point Canyon, another trail-less gem from Jeff’s GPS.  By now I understood canyons a little better.  First you walk gently uphill, then you turn around and walk gently downhill, following the path carved by flowing water.  It is possible to get lost if you take too many side turns, but generally that’s it. 

Close to the road we found artifacts, formerly known as trash.

Rock formations are like clouds, you can see all kinds of figures and shapes.  What do you see here?

Getting interesting

Desert foliage makes intriguing graphic design

A “dry fall” means the end of the hike for us, but not for Jeff.  He climbed up and explored a little further.

Breccia rock

A ghostlike plant

There is green in the desert – you just have to look for it

Next hike on the list:  Darwin Falls, a unique diversion from all the bare rock and dry dust.  Darwin Stream is the only permanent water source in Death Valley and it supplies water to the little settlement of Panamint Springs via an above-ground pipeline.  Directions to the trailhead say,“drive 1.1 miles past Panamint Springs to the first dirt road on the left.”  Dirt road is an optimistic description for the rutted washboard surface.  Sensitized by our recent tire woes, we crept to the trailhead.  Note to everyone:  it takes a long time to get anywhere in Death Valley. 

Starting out, this looked like any other canyon wash, not the oasis promised in the guide- book.  But very soon green began to appear and we crossed an actual stream of flowing water. 

Vegetation becomes taller and denser

A lizard friend as long as my forearm (just guessing, I didn’t check for real)

Check out the balancing rock in the upper left

We followed the sound of trickling water into the narrowing canyon, hugging the walls, crossing the stream several times on rocks and logs.  Hold up…is that…shade?  After only one mile we reached the lower falls, a 25-foot drop.

At one point on the hike out Dolores gasped and grabbed my arm as a large black/brown snake slithered away past Carolyn’s feet.  I didn’t see it so I could pretend it didn’t exist. 

Pipeline to Panamint Springs

A nice little two-mile hike with green stuff, water and shade.  Cool?  Well, cool is relative.  It was still hot…and about to get hotter.

Hike number 3:  Panamint Dunes.  There are several areas of sand dunes in Death Valley NP and Panamint Dunes are the largest and therefore the biggest challenge for Jeff aka “the peakbagger.”  They rise several hundred feet high, making them appear closer than they are (like lots of things in the desert.) 

There is no real trail to Panamint Dunes, but the closest you can get to them by car is via a dirt road called Lake Hill Road (no sign) off Highway 190.  We missed it the first time we passed it, but I spotted it on the second try.  As soon as I said, “There it is,” I felt a pang of regret.  If we had not been able to locate the road, we could have gone to explore Mesquite Dunes, much more accessible and easier to climb.  But here we were once again, creeping along a six-mile gravel road to “where the road begins to deteriorate” and we could park the car.  We passed Lake Hill (2,030 feet), a small mountain in the middle of the flat desert.  This hump was important as a landmark for our return hike.

The dunes sit at the northern end of the North Panamint Dry Lake bed.  Surround- ed by mountains on three sides like a bowl, they look like little sand piles going up the mountainside.  Here they are four miles from our car. 

At 3:30 p.m. we struck out across the desert floor on our 9-mile out-and-back hike.  After the gurgling waters of Darwin Falls, all I saw ahead of me was a flat hot walk similar to the salt flats. 

Dolores – the bump to the middle right is Lake Hill (Jeff's photo)

But unlike the salt flats, the desert floor here was alive with flora and fauna.  The surface began as hard packed sand, with pockets of softness around scrub brush where animals had dug tunnels near the roots.  Tiny lizards darted constantly in all directions.  Tracks were everywhere in the sand, but I couldn’t identify any.  In some places I saw the wind moving branches back and forth, creating patterns in the sand. 

As we drew closer we realized that there were actually hills before the sand dunes, big hills, softer sand.  I worked hard to get up the first one, then at the top I saw another one.  Did I mention it was HOT?  I was not so enamored of Death Valley on this section of the hike. 

Finally we crested the last hill and saw the dunes – they were enormous.  Jeff’s goal was to summit the tallest one.  My goal was to summit the first one I got to. 

Carolyn and I walked up the first dune and agreed we had a front row seat for everything, including the highest dune.  Dolores joined us and we took the requisite photos of each other. 

Carolyn photographing her footprints

Tiny Jeff

We sat down to watch Jeff as he worked his way up the spines of the dunes towards the highest point.  It was a breath- taking experience to watch his progress – definitely worth the effort to get there.  

Jeff's photo looking down at us - can you see us?

More of Jeff's photos:

The wind kicked up and began to erase our footprints.  I hurried to put my camera away but not soon enough.  Carolyn’s camera slipped from her pocket into the sand too.  We both had camera problems for the rest of the trip. 

We started the long hike back to the car, sighting on Lake Hill and trying to walk a straight line.  Four miles will always be four miles and the heat did not relent.  Carolyn jumped at the sight of a snake, but again I missed seeing it.  Eventually we picked up our earlier footprints and followed them back to the gravel road.  We reached the car around 7:00 p.m. just as dark settled in.

Once again we had to conquer the six-mile gravel road out to pavement, half an hour of tedious bumping, and we needed gas and water.  Who knows how early things shut down in Panamint Springs?  Luck was with us, the gas station was open and so was the one restaurant.  There was a large group of German tourists seated just before us, and Michael the bartender said if I would write down our orders we’d get our food faster.  I played waitress - very surreal.  We were extremely tired, thirsty, a little goofy, and I remember the pizza was delicious. 

Michael told Jeff there were scorpions everywhere on the property, including the bathrooms, so watch our step.  We filled up all our water containers, a now-familiar chore.  We found a shortcut road back to Thorndike Campground, but it was still after 10:00 p.m. when I slipped into my sleeping bag. 

So far I’ve done seven hikes in Death Valley and each one has been amazing.  What’s up tomorrow?  Us!  Heading to Telescope Peak!

It is easier to go down a hill than up, but the view is best from the top.  ~Arnold Bennett