The Secrets of Death Valley
A hot air balloon dotted the blue sky like an exclamation point as we climbed into the car. It was a beautiful Tuesday morning, and we were on our way to Death Valley.
Featured photos: https://photos.app.goo.gl/vgri6RmtuX2ssq3L7
April 11th, 2023 - California Day 4
It was a drive streaked with blue and yellow as we flew down the straight desert highway. The landscape outside my window looked permanently parched. Gradually, we began to descend into a natural bowl ringed by triangular mountain peaks. Our first stop, Badwater Basin, is at the very bottom of an ancient lake. It feels as though you are in a mixing bowl made of sand and stone. On our way into the bowl, we passed by a palm-lined oasis that felt a little forced. Surely these palms didn’t grow in such neat, orderly rows on their own! Still, the manmade oasis was a bright spot of color on the dusty landscape. A forlorn coyote lurked at the edge of the oasis, searching for snacks - or perhaps an elusive roadrunner. I had to give him credit- he had the mastered the drooping ears and sad puppy eyes! I was sure he had already fooled plenty of tourists that morning with his pitiful looks.
Badwater Basin was still shaded when we arrived, courtesy of the high mountain just on the other side of the parking lot. Craning our necks, we spotted the well-photographed “Sea Level” sign perched nearly 300 feet up the mountain. A dutiful tourist, I raised my phone and snapped a photo.
We followed a well-worn path out into the salt field of the deceased lake. Curious about the cracked, white-grey soil, I touched a damp finger to the earth and tasted it. It was definitely salty! The path continued out into the salt plain, eventually petering out into a vast nothingness of flat. On the other side of the basin, mountains rose up to form the far side of the earthen bowl. Curiously, they were still snow-capped. The air was oppressively still, quickly warming as the sun rose over the mountain peaks. It was interesting to think that it could be so warm where we stood, but cold enough for snow on the nearby mountains. Before we left, I snapped a few pictures of the lukewarm pool for which Badwater Basin is named. It was hardly more than a puddle, but it is still called home by unique species such as saltwater snails. I read that the pool’s water isn’t actually “bad water”, but just extremely salty. Given the smallness of the pool, I decided I wouldn’t taste test the saltiness here. Just a few drops of water on my finger would be a crucial volume in this wasteland, after all!
Because it was warming up so quickly, we ventured onwards to our next trail. The Death Valley Natural Bridge sits above Badwater Basin, nestled into a small canyon in the mountains. It was a little cooler here, and a breeze whispered past the stone walls of the canyon. If I imagined hard enough, I could even picture a rare thunderstorm creating a rushing river that would pound its way through the rocky boulevard. It was a short, shaded walk to the arch. Drawn by the shade, perhaps, there were quite a few other hikers already congregated under the arch. Tyler, ever patient, waited for for the crowds to abate to get some excellent shots of the arch and the snowy mountains beyond. Not quite as patient, I built a cairn in a hollowed-out area of the rock walls. It resembled a desert shrine, a place of prayer to a harsh god of stone and salt.
After we satisfied ourselves with snapshots and a bit of rock scrambling, we returned to the car for a short air-conditioned ride to Devil’s Golf Course. Supposedly, it is named because nobody but the devil would be able to golf there. I’m not sure if Satan partakes in golf, but it was certainly a hellish landscape. Chunks and shards of salt thickly coated the ground, creating an uneven, treacherous terrain. I couldn’t help but pity the miners (and their mules) that may have once needed to cross the golf course from hell. Surely cuts, scrapes, and broken bones were frequent. In fact, an unlucky woman tripped into the jagged, salty edges while we were there. Fortunately, her partner was quite attentive to her needs, and her scraped skin was quickly cleaned and bandaged. This seemed like a good cue to leave before we also fell victim to the malicious landscape.
Our final stop was Zabriskie Point, an overlook that watches over a badlands of rolling yellow hills. Buffeted by a sandy wind and squinting against the bright sun, I was startled to realize how beautiful it was. Clouds swirled in a turquoise sky. Layers of hills stacked up in shades of yellows, browns, and reds. In the distance, blue mountains crowned with white looked like ancient guardians of untold secrets. What did the desert know? In that moment, it felt as though Death Valley held a quiet wisdom of centuries. It once was a lake, a haven to mysterious fishes and unknown civilizations. Now it is an empty container, a relic that still draws visitors to gawk at its expansiveness.
Yes, the Death Valley holds secrets, written in the curling waves of heat rising from the salty earth.
Secrets it will never tell.
Hiking trails:
Badwater Basin Salt Flats
Natural Bridge Trail
Zabriskie Point
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