Death Valley Again! - March 2021 - Part One

 

please remember you can click on a photo to see a larger version & highlighted text are links to additional information

 

Let Me Tell You a Story

 

In the early 1900's the new fangled horseless carriage brought in the first tourists to Death Valley. The world was changed forever by the automobile - the carriage that ran on gasoline instead of hay. It opened up unheard of opportunities for travel, opportunities to see what was around the next bend. We find ourselves linked to these first tourists.

 

And what better place than Death Valley? A place of myth and mystery. Back then, stories told around the campfire usually began like this..............

"Let me tell you the tragic tale of the demise of the young miner working the graveyard shift in the Coffin Mine up in Deadmans Canyon in the Funeral Mountains in this place called Death Valley...................."

 

These early years captured our attention and stirred deep in our imaginations. We wanted to find that poor young miner. It became a quest - to find his bleached remains. Find those bones scattered by ravens and vultures and coyotes and seared blinding white by the savage sun. And search in this place, Death Valley, where danger was omnipresent. Sidewinders and scorpions are hidden beneath every rock and bush, in every nook and cranny, their life's mission to send us to the spirit world, to add our bones to the pile.

 

This story is the next installment of that search - but a search that has broadened greatly to include just about everything Death Valley, because long ago we found that poor young miner's grave. Turns out he had friends who loved and cared for him. He received as proper of a burial this hostile place could offer. He rests beneath a rock covered mound somewhere between the Devils Cornfield and the Devils Golf Course, near where Funeral Creek once flowed. I keep exact locations secret.

 

Yes, we were back in Death Valley and we were searching. We had a list with very special treasures to attempt to find. Our first stop was Hanaupah Canyon on the east side of the Panamint Mountains. We arrived mid afternoon and set up camp in a cozy spot just before the old road dropped into the main canyon wash.

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

Please take notice of the photo above of Hanaupah Wash. Here in one of the most arid places on earth the dominate features are created by massive volumes of water. It made us think of the tiny rover Perseverance sitting on Mars.

 

Our evening walk reminded us that we were in Southern California and its smog reaches all the way to Death Valley and dims the views.

 

 

 

 

I should report on the special characters we encountered on this day. First was the fellow stopped on West Side Road, a fellow Ford Ranger driver. The hood was up. Tools were laid out on the ground by the bumper. He was a young man. We inquired about the problem.

"My front end's wobbling all over the place. I'm sure it's the tie rods. I'm going to adjust them and tighten 'em up."

"You know what you're doing? Will you fix the problem? Will you be okay?" I asked.

"Yeah," he answered and then got excited. "Hey, you have a Ranger!" He looked our truck over. "Hey, it's a Level II FX4! That was the top of the line."

"Yup," I answered. "It's just a truck that works for us. Are you sure you are okay here?"

"Yeah, I'm good!" He smiled and held an open end wrench to the sky. We did not ask about the young woman with him, planted in the passenger seat. Her demeanor told the story. She didn't want to be here. She was not out offering help, even to hand tools under the truck.

 

We met Character Two just as we started the climb up Hanaupah Canyon Road. He was a good solid kid driving an older Tacoma pickup with a brand new FWC in the bed. He pulled aside to be neighborly.

"Hey I drove maybe 80 to 90% of the road. You'll be the only ones up there except for that Scamp trailer."

"Yeah," the Lady said. "We could see it up there shortly after we turned on West Side Road."

"You aren't camping?" I asked.

"No, I got to get my ass out of the Park and on down the road."

He drove like he was in a hurry too.

 

"Scamp trailers are known to shake apart aren't they?" the Lady asked as we resumed our drive.

"That's what I've heard."

"Who would drag a Scamp up this road?" The Lady asked.

 

This brings us to Characters Three. It was a Casita trailer, lifted with large tires. The tow vehicle was a modified older Tahoe. The outfit looked like the owners knew well what they were doing. The camp was a surprise with small children's bikes, strollers, and a large playpen set up. Everyone was inside. No one waved as we drove past.

 

Our search began early the next morning. Winds overnight had cleared the skies. We would spend the day hiking.

 

And what a beautiful day it was.

 

 

 

 

 

Shorty Borden was the noted old time prospector who worked Hanaupah Canyon. He's the one who dug Shorty's Well along the West Side Road, by hand. In the early 1930's he thought his mines up canyon by the spring could produce enough he'd need a road so trucks could haul out ore. He built the road by hand, by himself with two burros. It took him six months to complete the 10 mile long road. Shorty was 66.

 

 

 

 

 

An interesting sign was posted, a sign that should pique your interest.

 

 

 

 

 

We were already aware of this issue and I was pleased when three NPS trucks drove up the canyon this morning. I stopped the third truck to ask. Yes, a marijuana grow site was discovered two years ago and today was the day it was going to be cleaned up.

 

 

It was mid afternoon when we approached Shorty's place, around a half mile beyond road's end - a flood had years ago taken out the last section of road. It was amazing to hear and smell and see flowing water.

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

Most of Shorty's place is gone except for a walled up adit that may have served as a workshop.

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

From a distance, with the see mores, we watched the seven person NPS crew move back down the canyon from the spring. A stack of sturdy white fiberglass bags had been assembled for carry out.

 

Hanaupah Canyon is a wide canyon but does have a couple of constrictions. We enjoyed our explorations both up and back down Hanaupah.

 

 

 

 

 

The afternoon light gave nice views down canyon to Death Valley proper.

 

 

 

 

 

Hanaupah is most likely a Shoshone word roughly meaning a canyon with water. Today we would name the canyon "Bee Canyon." European honey bees were out and would descend on us at each stop searching for moisture. Our shirts and backs, wet with sweat were investigated. We were careful with our water bottles and food and were particularly careful pulling our packs back on. We took a break where the above photo was taken. We were patient with the bees. The NPS crew stopped and reported a successful day with their project. We didn't think it necessary to tell them about the trash - picked up during our hike - we had stashed in the bed of one of their trucks at road end. The crew continued down Shorty's road. The Lady dropped her pants and peed before we started out again. She was careful with the bees but, unfortunately, missed one when she pulled her pants back up. A few steps down the road, she stopped.

"That burns. I got stung. A bee got me."

I dropped my pack. The Lady dropped her pants.

"I have my knife," I said as I pulled it out of the pack's hip belt pocket. The stringer hung dead center from her left butt cheek.

"Poor little bee died giving you this little bite." I said as I scraped the stinger out. There was only a slight dot of red.

"Well, it's nice the Park crew already drove past," the Lady said as she stood half naked in the road with her pants around her ankles.

"How's your butt?" I asked.

"It's fine. It's only a bee bite."

"Yup, you're tough and we're lucky this isn't the old days and this was a snake bite. I'd have to cut x's and suck the poison out."

 

What about our search? I am giving no clues as to location of the sites we were searching for and found. We had very little information to go on. Only a sentence or two in an old copy of an archeological report on a survey done in the late 1950's. It noted two pictograph sites. Of special interest to us was -  "Hematite, present in the rock at base of pictographs....undoubtedly was used to paint them."

 

 

The first was a habitation site against a rock face.

 

 

 

 

 

The remains of stacked circular walls are present along with a small pictograph panel.

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

DStretch helps bring out the faded red pigment.

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

This pictograph is unique with its delicate fine lines.

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

The second site was, again, small but quite spectacular for us.

 

 

 

 

 

Here is the entire small panel.

 

 

 

 

 

DStretch reveals many elements and details

 

 

 

 

 

The group in the upper left corner.

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

The sheep.

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

The central group is quite interesting. Is the larger one some sort of monster?

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

An anthromorph with another sheep figure?

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

This faded portion of the panel hid secrets brought out with DStretch.

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

And at ground level, another sheep?

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

At the third site we found the hematite - an oxide of iron - noted in the report. It is hard to see in this photo with the harsh daylight, but we noticed it at ground level and followed it up to the hole where it had been pounded out to be used as pigment. This was a very special find for us.

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

I focused on the hematite. Julie found the pictographs here. Again, DStretch helps.

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

Here is the most intriguing pictographs, tiny figures.

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

At ground level was another possible sheep figure.

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

It had been an incredible, rewarding day and search. Please remember these are important historic sites and should be left completely untouched (unspoiled) by your visit. Do not share locations - and destroy the thrill of the search for others. Do not touch or move items. Please show these special places the utmost respect and care they deserve.

 

Here's an update on Characters Three. The Tahoe passed us around noon along the road. The family of five were driving up to road's end. The parents were young and came across as a good capable couple. We met the mom again when we reached road's end mid afternoon. She was with a baby daughter against her chest and kept a watchful eye on an older daughter determined to ride her tiny bike on the cobbles of the wash. They were on a three week trip, trying to spend as much time as possible in primitive areas. The Lady said she hoped her children realized, someday, how lucky they are to experience this.

"The boys are up canyon. We girls turned around. There's no trail and it is rough," the woman explained. "You'll probably see my husband and son up there." We did. They never saw us. We took a high route on the south side of the canyon. At a high point we stopped and sat, time for a break - water and food and to quietly watch. Movement up canyon on the other side of the vegetation choked creek revealed the return of the father and his six year old son. The son was a real trooper still carefully following along with his dad. As they continued down canyon the father began singing to his son - animated, joyous, and loud. No way could we interrupt or spoil this special time. We remained quiet, unseen, as the voices moved down canyon and faded.

 

We were seated outside looking east across Death Valley as the full moon rose. Far in the distance a small light shone from the tiny Casita trailer. Another truck with a pop up camper was a short distance above the Casita, also camped. The moon was spectacular and we walked long into the night. At least as long as a couple of old farts can stay awake.

 

 

We were up the next morning in time to see moonset over the Panamint Mountains.

 

 

 

 

 

A bit later the sun took over.

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

After breakfast and packing up, it was time to move to our next search area. What were we after next?

 

It was a slow bumpy descent of Shorty's Road. If you are in the area do not miss looking at the Hanaupah escarpment, in places over 50 feet tall - formed when the block under Death Valley dropped.

 

 

 

 

Our next stop was to the north.

 

Please click here to continue to - Part Two.