Thursday, November 24, 2011

Death Valley - November 2011



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The best place to start this story is smack dab in the middle.
 

“Stars are out, the whole sky is stars!” the Lady called from outside. It was four o’clock in the morning and the enthusiasm in her voice brought me more awake, and so did the news. How could it be? A squall had come over with rain hard enough on the roof to wake both of us. How long it had lasted was hard to say as we drifted back into and out of sleep. It had finally let up enough that the Lady decided time was right for a quick trip outside.

The rain was a surprise. It had warmed a degree. The snow had turned to rain.

It had snowed all afternoon. The snow had not delayed our planned hike, the main focus of this Thanksgiving break adventure. We were on a search for treasure and perhaps some perspective on an odd fun little mystery. The snow had continued into the night, quiet except for an occasional hint of wind. It was the kind of quiet expected in this vast lonely place; the kind of quiet that brings deep sleep. That was why the rain woke us, a new sound. And now there were stars? I pulled myself out of our warm doubled sleeping bags and joined the Lady outside. Stars were overhead from one mountain range to the other.

We had camped the night before south and high above the Eureka Dunes, below the mouth of Dedeckera Canyon. We were in Death Valley National Park.


The yellow jeep accelerated after it passed the main parking area. There were only two vehicles parked there, it was a quiet Saturday afternoon at Eureka Dunes. We had driven around to the east side and pulled into one of the rock bordered parking areas. We had the chairs and lunch out, enjoying a long break from our drive from home. The jeep was ripping up the road, throwing up dirt, coming toward us. We wondered if the driver’s recklessness would end if and when he saw us ahead. We were the only vehicle past Eureka Dunes.

He hit the brakes hard the moment he saw us, putting the jeep into a slide. He then slowly approached. I remained in my chair. He stopped and rolled down the window. He was alone and dressed in light street clothes, a young man in his thirties. He had no visible camping or outdoor gear in his vehicle, a near new jeep rubicon with new oversized tires and a matching new spare hanging off the back.

“Did you come down from Steel Pass?” he asked.
“No, we did not,” I answered.
“Is Steel Pass that way?” he asked as he pointed up the primitive two track.
“Yeah,” I nodded my head.

As he hit the soft sand he was again hard into the accelerator, the jeep jerking from side to side as the spinning tires fought for traction.

“Did he say he was going over Steel Pass? The Lady asked as she returned from grabbing something out of the camper.
“Actually he did not, but all of his actions indicate that’s his plan,” I replied.
“Looked like he didn’t have anything with him and it sure gets dark early this time of year, he’s going to be doing lots of driving in the dark. Hope he doesn’t get into trouble with us maybe being the next vehicle through,” she added.
“Yup, I’m thinking the same thing.”
We watched the dust cloud disappear into the mouth of Dedeckera Canyon, the north entrance for the Steel Pass route.


We picked a spot below the entrance to Dedeckera Canyon to camp, a spot where the afternoon sun would linger.




With camp chores completed, we put on our packs and hiked up into Dedeckera to evaluate the route and see the notorious four steps for ourselves.




It was a wonderful late afternoon. We took a close look at the obstacles, discussed the lines we would need to take with the truck, and decided if this route was safely doable for us.

We returned to camp, enjoyed warm coffee on this cold evening, and relaxed.




The morning light was glorious with a growing cloud cover, forecasting a change in the weather.




Eureka Valley was spread out before us as the sun put on a show.




Climbing the road up through Dedeckera Canyon was a fun technical challenge. The Lady did a great job spotting and we took our time. After the steps, the Lady was getting in the spirit and wanted to drive the narrows above.




We enjoyed our slow trek up to Steel Pass. We were alone, no other vehicles, no other people. Late morning we arrived at Steel Pass, the high point. We found an out of the way place to camp. We were going to spend some time here. We were going to look for treasure.


Was it a cartographer’s joke? That’s what many think. On the old topo maps a spring symbol was placed near the top of Steel Pass, an odd place for a spring, and odder still was the name, “marble bath.” People looked for it. People got tired of looking for it. Somebody took matters into their own hands and fulfilled the map’s dream, providing a bath full of marbles.








We had found one marble bath. Was there another, was there a real marble bath? Having explored many canyons in Death Valley we knew it was common to find polished bedrock basins in winding narrows. Places that look like marble and bath tubs. Was it possible the little spring symbol had just lost its way; misplaced by that cartographer we thought was joking? There are several canyons that line the edge of the Last Chance Range. We would take a look.

Would we find a narrow slot canyon?




Would we find slickrock and dry waterfalls?




Would we find waterholes that would draw the bighorn sheep to drink and the ancient people who depended on them for food?




Yes, we did. We found the treasure we were seeking. Did we visit the real “marble bath”? We will leave that one as a remaining mystery. These seldom visited mountains and canyons are delightful to explore on foot, to climb up into, to discover what is around the next bend. We spent the afternoon exploring as it snowed. Wind and snow bit at our faces as we headed into the wind, returning to camp and hot coffee and, as the Lady has taken to calling it, our home away from home.

We are now at that middle spot in the story, where this all started.

After the star filled skies at four in the morning, low cloud cover obscured everything as we climbed out of the sack at dawn, at least from the camper it looked that way.

“Get out here! This is wonderful, get out here!” The Lady was outside again. She was excited. An opening in the clouds showed that Saline Valley and the Inyo Mountains to the west were in sunlight.









This was a morning we will remember.








As the day warmed, the sun worked at burning off the lingering clouds.








We had a mishap with a water container breaking during our climb of the steps in Dedeckera Canyon. We took our time this morning and took advantage of the sun to dry out towels and other items.
 
Except for the search for the marble bath, our plans were fairly loose. I was considering returning to the Eureka Dunes and then heading north to wander around the north end of Eureka Valley. At Steel Pass the Lady asked what were possible spots to visit to the west, down into Saline Valley. After going over the maps and checking out possible hikes in Digonnet’s new Saline and Eureka Valley book, she said, “Let’s go west all the way through. Do we have enough gas?”
“Yes.” I answered and we dropped into Saline Valley.

We stopped often and our eyes kept wandering back up to Steel Pass. I’m sure we will too someday.




The first couple of miles down from the pass are a bit technical, narrow, winding, with rocks. After that it is a long easy cruise with tremendous views as you descend. The temperature rose and our windows opened, wonderful. We kept our eyes out for that yellow jeep, even out across country where you shouldn’t drive. We never saw him again; it looked like another one dodged a bullet.

As we descended we also started to see reflections off of vehicles far down below us. We had been all alone. The world was about to change. We were arriving at Saline hot springs. We stopped at Upper Warm Springs.




As we approached the more developed Palm Springs, we were now passing through clusters of parked vehicles at their campsites. We stopped for Captain Jack and his wench, both in full pirate costume, to cross the road.

We were at the hot springs. We had to stop and take this in. We parked at the two pools.




We first stopped at the Wizard Pool (we were learning the names and getting oriented) and chatted with a woman from Idaho. She had two huskies, one that was huge and just loved to quietly howl. She freely shared her story. She has been coming to the springs for 7 years. She told us we should stay for the Thanksgiving Day feast, that we would be welcome, that it was pretty incredible. As we talked, the man with no pants first appeared. He stayed just outside our space, did not say anything to greet or acknowledge us, and meandered about within view. He came in closer and slowly sat down at the bench facing away from us. The Lady noticed the fellow who had been soaking at the other pool (Volcano Pool, I believe, and pictured above) was finished.

We said goodbye to the woman and joined the gentleman, easily falling into conversation. He was from Arizona and was enjoying his stay at the springs. We asked if he would mind us getting a soak in and with his approval we climbed into the soothing water. This is a slice of heaven.

“Is that your four wheel camper?” he asked nodding toward our truck.
“Yes it is; that’s ours.” I answered.
“That’s my four wheel camper over there.” He nodded toward his nearby camp.
He told us about his camper and asked if we had heard of the Wander the West website.
“Okay, who are you on the website?” the Lady asked.
“I’m LAWNMOWERMAN.”
We introduced ourselves. He told us KC from Wyoming was camped nearby and that SunMan may be in for Thanksgiving. We had seen the other FWC rig below us as we pulled in.

We walked over to kcowyo’s camp and introduced ourselves, said hello, and chatted. He told us SunMan may be coming in for Thanksgiving.

We stopped to check out the lower springs.




There was an anxious couple waiting along the road, watching for vehicles coming in to inquire if anyone had seen their friend. He was coming in the north pass, driving a rental car and it had snowed. We politely listened and then the woman asked, “Have you ever been here before?”
“No, this is our first visit.” I answered.
“Oh!” she took me by the arm. “You have to come in and see this place and get a tour.” She led us under the canopy of trees.
Tom in his kilts sitting in a chair on the lawn looked up from his book and asked, “Would you like a tour?”
“A nice offer like that we will not turn down.” We introduced ourselves and chatted.
The man with no pants wandered in and sat on a bench.
Tom said, “I saw you two come in and take a soak at the upper pools.”
I guess they keep track of newcomers here.

Tom gave us a tour and shared his love for this place. Everyone we met at the springs was friendly, welcoming, and seemed like nice folks. We would not hesitate coming back to this special place.

As we drove out I got to thinking about the man with no pants and a possible role he plays in the community at the springs. The way I saw it, his job was to spot newcomers and just stay within sight as a way to reinforce that this is traditionally a clothing optional area. Maybe I’m putting too much thought into this and guy just likes a shirt and no pants. Good for him.

We made a stop at the famous bat sign.




We had decided on plans for the next day and we headed south on Saline Valley Road. Shadows were moving across the valley as we stopped to take in the vistas around the salt lake.




Saline Valley Road is just plain awful. This will be a recurring theme. Some of it, I believe, is because you can see so far that it appears you are not making headway; not getting any closer to the landmarks. You are a fool if you try to drive fast and the distance pushes you to want to do that. Our goal was to camp part way up the Lippincott Road. As shadows lengthened across Saline Valley we knew it would not be possible to get up there before dark.
“We ought to think about finding a spot to camp before it is dark and then drive up Lippincott in the morning.”
“I’m thinking the same thing,” the Lady replied.
“There were a couple of large level spots along Saline Valley Road that we past, but I expect there will be continuing traffic into the springs. That might not be an enjoyable night camping there.” I added.
“Let get down to the Lippincott Road and I bet there is a camping spot a short ways in that we can pull into,” the Lady suggested.

We reached the large cairn marking the intersection with Lippincott, turned east, and a useable campsite was just where the Lady said one would be. We made ourselves at home with a wonderful view to the north the length of Saline Valley. The evening sky put on a show for us.




After dinner, sitting in our chairs outside – much warmer at this elevation – we star gazed and watched car lights descend into the valley from North Pass. The springs were going to be busy for the holiday.




We turned in and spent a quiet night here, waking to another beautiful desert dawn.




First light dancing across Saline Valley.




From Digonnet’s book, I had read the Lady his description of the Ubehebe Trail, an early access route for miners coming from Owens Lake and traveling into the Race Track and Ubehebe Mining area. It predates the Lippincott Mine Road. The old faint foot trail crosses the Lippincott Road near the Bonanza Prospect. Here it heads north and climbs to the ridge crest that it then follows to the east and drops into Race Track Valley. It is seldom visited and offers outstanding vistas such as this below. Our truck is visible far below on the Lippincott Road, right center.




The old trail crosses steep terrain.




One of the side trips possible is dropping into the canyon north of the ridge. Here a 35 foot dry fall blocks your progress.




There is a bypass that climbs steep talus on the north side. This takes you to the Inyo Mine copper prospects and ruins.




Almost to the crest.




The final section of the trail down into the valley no longer exists, but the route is obvious and soon Race Track Playa is visible to the north.




Once up in Race Track Valley you have the option of returning the way you came up or walking the Lippincott Road back down to your vehicle. The Lady loves circles so we headed down the Lippincott.




It was a very pleasant walk.




With outstanding views of the road snaking down and down.




The center section of the road is the roughest. This washout with the cliff looked to be the narrowest spot.




We returned to the truck about 1:00 pm and relaxed as we got out of our boots and snacked. Only one vehicle had ventured up Lippincott today. As we were walking down a family in their new four door jeep wrangler was driving up.

Overall Lippincott Road was in pretty good shape. I would drive it.

The Ubehebe Trail was a great hike.




Our adventure was drawing to a close. We returned to the Saline Valley Road and headed for South Pass. The Lady calls this long section of the Saline Valley Road a road right out of the Twilight Zone. It goes on and on. As soon as you relax another nasty section of washboard, or more rocks, or washouts across the road shows up. We were going to drive and drive forever, it was never going to end. There was continuous snow on the long shaded section near the top of South Pass. It was packed from vehicle traffic and no problem but after a cold clear night and it freezes hard, this could make for an interesting ride along this mountainside.

We reached the intersection with highway 190 at 4:30 pm. The sun had just dropped out of sight in the west. We stretched our legs, pulled out the compressor and aired up the tires. Four vehicles stopped to see if we were okay. Kind, neighborly folks drive these roads. We thanked them all.

“You’ve been driving a long time,” the Lady said. I couldn’t argue with that. She continued, “I’ll drive into Lone Pine and let’s gas up and then decide where we want to spend the night…………………………..or I was thinking.”
I knew she had been thinking, plotting, and she had a plan.
“We could both use a long soak in a hot springs after the Twilight Zone Road. Let’s head to Bridgeport. It will be beautiful under the stars!”

It was.

Monday, November 14, 2011

Yosemite - November 2011



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A birthday weekend trip.
 

I was flabbergasted. I saw it as I was going over the check the waitress dropped off after our dinner at Rodz Grill in Angels Camp on highway 49 in California’s Mother Lode. This was the eve of my birthday. The Lady had a three day weekend because of Veteran’s Day and wanted us to celebrate my birthday in Yosemite. The last time I chose a destination for my birthday trip was when I turned 50. I figured Death Valley was a perfect place to go when you hit the half century mark. The Lady puts up with my sense of humor but also tries to keep it under control.

We had hit the road late Thursday afternoon after work. The Lady was anxious to get away and the Bureau of Reclamation’s Manzanita Campground above New Melones Reservoir makes for an easy stop and camp spot when you are traveling through this area. This was our destination for the night and would give us a full day Friday in the park. We figured we’d stop for a quick road house dinner. That brings us to that dinner check.

“Look at this!” I said holding my finger to a line above the total.
“That’s funny! Did you ask for that?” The Lady was smiling and then her eyes narrowed. “Is this one of your jokes? Did you set this up as a birthday joke?”
“I had nothing to do with this. I never asked for it nor did the waitress ever mention it,” I answered.
I continued, “Can you believe this?” My finger still pointed at the line that said “15% senior discount”.
I shook my head. “I don’t know where that came from. I have never asked for or gotten a senior discount anywhere. I'm not that old!”

We went up to the register and paid our bill. As we were walking out the Lady said to me, “You didn’t say anything to her.”
“No I didn’t. I thought about it and figured we were getting a 15% discount; you too.”

We were the only ones in Manzanita Campground that night. The geese are loud. We got up early and headed for the park as the clouds thickened and lowered. This was our first view of the Valley.




We had reservations for Upper Pines Campground – the only Valley campground open all year - for Friday and Saturday nights. We were allowed to check in early and the place was nearly empty.




On our way in we had stopped at Bridalveil Fall.




The weather continued with drizzle and rain. We wandered around the Valley in our rain gear with our packs and found ourselves outside the famous Ahwahnee.




We went in.




This is a grand place and on this rainy day many folks were taking advantage of just hanging out inside. We had to stop by one of the Ted’s favorite spots.




Well, since we were there and it was my birthday, it seemed just right to stay for lunch.




It would be about a 30 minute or so wait for a table. The Lady found a nice out of the way spot to cozy up with a book and I quietly moved about and had fun trying some handheld photography in the low light.
















There was a private wedding lunch and reception in a closed off section of the main floor. As I was quietly enjoying taking my photos two young women in nice go to wedding dresses walked by. I lowered my camera from my eye and one of the girls grabbed me by the arm, pulled at me and excitedly started to say things to me which I had trouble understanding. It was a bit unnerving and I was trying to figure out what was going on before reacting. The other young woman who had her by the hand appeared to be watching over her and was saying to me, “I’m sorry sir, I’m sorry” as she led her friend away. 

We were seated for lunch at a window table.




The Lady works with many special needs children at school and I told her about my encounter as we enjoyed lunch. I wanted to get some insight into the kinds of challenges there are.

Lunch was delightful and the staff was great, friendly, and fun to interact with. This was a special occasion for us. About half way through lunch the sun broke through the clouds for just a moment.




The cost for lunch was high but not outrageous. I did not ask for or receive a senior discount.

We wandered the rest of the afternoon, no real destination and the weather cooperated remaining just a light drizzle.

Here’s one of the sights around Curry Village.




We walked the loop trail that goes behind the Yosemite Village area between Yosemite Falls and the Ahwahnee. The trail is paved and runs right below the valley’s sheer granite walls. It is not near as busy as the main walk and bike ways. We passed a man and a woman, parents. Their child was in a high tech large wheeled stroller that they shared duties pushing. The child was the young woman I had encountered in the Ahwahnee. She was singing loudly, enjoying Yosemite. She was happy. She was loved. It was a nice reminder to get on my birthday, that when we allow it, joy will outweigh the challenges.


Those of you who have read one of my trip reports know we tend for the out of the way places and disperse camp where the neighbors won’t settle in around us. We start to get nervous when there are two rigs within sight. A Yosemite Valley campground is not one of those places.

When we returned to Upper Pines it was almost full. It is an older campground that has seen a lot of use. It is poorly laid out with very close campsites, built to accommodate huge crowds. The best access to water and the restrooms is a bee line directly through people’s sites. We had people walking by at all times running their hands along the camper in the dark.

There were several memorable people watching episodes.

Friday night the group across from us, several young men and one woman, were loud. The Lady dubbed them the “Loud People”. Standing in the rain around their fire they worked on the bravado of youth fueled with liquid refreshment. Overhearing a good conversation can sometimes be fun, but good conversation rarely includes continuous and non-creative use of the f word. And then they howled.

It rained all Friday night and into Saturday morning. The pleasant drumming on the roof helped with the din of campground life and we slept well.

I walked around our loop in the drizzle Saturday morning. I was curious as to why one campfire was blazing occasionally with flames 8 to 10 feet in height. The secret – a 2.5 gallon can of gasoline right next to the fire and poured directly on the fire when needed to rekindle the wet wood. As I continued around the loop I discovered for most early morning campfire starters, the accelerant of choice was charcoal starter fluid liberally applied. Burns must be a common injury treated at the Valley medical center.

Saturday afternoon and evening there was a fellow at the end of our loop with a deep affection for college football. He was kind enough to share his enthusiasm by having the radio broadcast loud enough for all to hear.

And then, to borrow Sunman’s terminology, two young men, feral Aussies, moved in next to us in the dark Saturday evening. As they were off loading their equipment to camp, one of them supplied the campground quote for this trip. He held up a large bottle high for his buddy to see. “I have no idea what is in this bottle but I’m going to drink it!” he said.

With my grousing about these episodes I must say they were more than tempered by the wonderful sights of small girls bundled up against the cold and rain, hopping from rock to rock, from curb to curb, happy to be on an adventure, occasionally looking back to see how far away they were from camp, working on their independence, enjoying being outside. Or, the young kids singing together with their family around the campfire, under a tarp, in the rain.

I learned large campgrounds like this are community living so just go with it.

Although it was still raining early Saturday morning we could see occasional breaks in the clouds overhead. Since it was close by and an easy retreat if the weather turned, we decided to head up the Mist Trail from nearby Happy Isles. When North Dome appeared in bright sun our hope for a nice day was buoyed.




The Mist Trail is the start of the long and wonderful John Muir Trail.




From one point on the trail we got a nice view of Illiloutte Fall.




With the big leaf maples and dogwoods the glory of fall was still hanging on in Yosemite Valley.




The Mist Trail takes you along the Merced River and around to the top of Vernal Fall.




The rock work with steps and the wet and the downed fall leaves were a visual treat.




At the top of Vernal Fall we had climbed into the sun. Our wool shirts came off and lay out to dry and warm in the sun. It was a wonderful morning.




We continued up the Mist Trail to Nevada Fall.




Although not in its spring high water glory, it is always spectacular.












We found a great spot to hang out, a nap in the sun, water and snacks.




The Lady loves “circles” so we decided to return via the John Muir Trail. It is longer but remains high on the canyon side. The views are outstanding. Here is Liberty Cap soaring above the top of Nevada Fall.




Since the John Muir Trail here is on the sheltered cold north facing side of the Merced River canyon, we figured there was a strong possibility of ice. We were not disappointed.








But, the views and the day just got better and better.

Looking back from the ledge was a wonderful view of Nevada Fall with Liberty Cap, Mount Broderick, and the back side of Half Dome.








The clouds working the back of Half Dome.




We continued our drop back into Yosemite Valley. Under the canopy of the cedars, oaks, and maple the chill returned. The surroundings were still incredible with the colors of fall.




After such a wonderful hike, how could we not be refreshed, restored, happy? We had wandered in one of the most beautiful places on earth.


Back at Upper Pines Saturday afternoon, we warmed with a cup of Peets Coffee – Holiday blend. The weather had closed back in with a solid low cloud deck. We walked back out to the meadow just east of Yosemite Village hoping that the setting sun might put some last rays under the clouds and provide some spectacular light.  Such was not the case as can be seen with the clouds low on Glacier Point above Curry Village.




We returned to camp after dark, had supper, and then sat outside. Our chairs were close as we stayed quiet in the dark. Embers from the various camp fires would climb toward the sky. Occasionally the clouds would open revealing the stars above and then close back in. The din of people and campground sounds were around us.

Our weekend trip was drawing to a close. Sunday dawned partly cloudy. We packed up early and left the truck in place. Check out time is noon. We once again donned our packs and set off to spend some time at Mirror Lake. Crossing the Merced we saw a nice view of Upper Yosemite Fall.




Late in the season Mirror Lake, only a wide spot in Tenaya Creek, is mostly gone. The views up at the face of Half Dome are incredible from here. There are well done interceptive signs posted and it was enjoyable to relax, stop, and read the varied information.

Some of the reflections, with the still morning air, were very nice.




Some of the nicest visuals were the dogwoods putting on their fall show.




On our way out of the Valley we stopped to pay our respects to the captain, El Capitan.




This chuck of granite makes you feel really small and it is sometimes good to feel small and in our place.

We spotted a couple of big wall climbers hanging out in their shelters waiting for the rock to warm.




It was time to head for home. It had been a great getaway for my birthday, full of happy times and certainly memorable.