Travelogue

Day 1 - Saline Valley

Saline Valley Warm Springs "bat pole"What makes the Eastern Sierra so special to us is the variety in topography and weather. You can pretty much dial in to whatever temperature you want just by driving 40 miles or so. After all, Badwater Basin, which claims some of the highest temperatures in the U.S. is only 80 miles as the crow flies from Mt. Whitney, the highest mountain in the Continental United States, with the cold temperatures that go with that elevation.

That’s what made the ability to ski one day, as we did yesterday at the beautiful June Lake Ski Area, and to be in Saline Valley Warm Springs of Death Valley the next, so intriguing.

Warm Springs soaking poolAfter leaving Bishop, we drove south on 395 to the town of Big Pine and made a left (east) onto State Highway 168. From there it was about 16 miles for the turnoff (on the right) onto the Saline Valley Road.

The turnoff for the Warm Springs can be easy to miss, so we reset our odometer so we could track our progress along the way. At exactly 32.7 miles (as our off-roading guide told us), we came to a big old truck tire on our left, making the turn onto Warm Springs Road.

The drive along Warm Springs Road was much rougher and sandier than the Saline Valley Road, as the Saline Valley Road is maintained and graded, but this one is not. Still, plenty of 2WD cars and even small motorhomes somehow make it through. Funny how motivational the thought of soaking in a beautiful palm oasis can be.

After about 4 miles into our bumpy drive to the Palm Spring Oasis, we came to a tall post with metal bats hanging from it - the infamous “Bat Pole” of Saline Valley.

The wild burros of Saline ValleyAt about 6.5 miles, we arrived at the first oasis, where we had camped on a previous visit. However, we decided to continue on another mile to the second oasis, which we had also been to before. This one tends to be less crowded and it has two beautiful pools - one out in the open, hot desert sun, and the other tucked under the shade of a palm tree.
Both oases are amazing – prettier and better maintained than most commercial hot springs. They were developed in the 60s, before Saline Valley became a part of Death Valley National Park, by a group of hippies who made a semi-permanent camp here – taming the wild springs into several concrete, rock, and tile soaking pools. The camp even had a leader named “Wizard.” When he passed away, “Lizard” took his place. You can’t make this stuff up.

Lolo enjoying a soak before the hikeThere are even showers, with soap and shampoo supplied, to use before entering the pool. In addition, there is a fully stocked bathroom, with Costco size toilet paper packages, cleaning products, air fresheners, etc.

This place certainly felt more like a commune than part of a National Park. The only stress here is deciding whether to soak in the sunny or the shady pool.

From the oasis, there is a very prominent red cinder cone about two miles east of the springs with a giant peace sign carved into it - also not done by the National Park Service, but rather the work of two hippies from San Francisco named Sunshine (of course) and Raymond (not as predictable) who were residents of the Valley in the 1960s.

In 1968, Sunshine decided to take a rake to the cinder cone, where she set about the herculean task of removing the surface red volcanic cinders and exposing the lighter-colored volcanic soil below to create a giant peace sign, which must be at least 100 feet in diameter.

Random car set; Peace sign mountain in distanceI have no idea how she could have possibly done this, as it is so huge that when you are near it, you can’t actually see that it is a peace sign. Hopefully, Raymond and some other friends helped her.

This peace sign was our hiking goal for the day, but first a quick soak in the sunny pool. That way we could have the cooling effects of evaporation on our hike, even though the temperature was a very comfortable 75 degrees.

We headed to the first palm oasis, a little less than a mile away, before heading across the Valley towards the cinder cone. We didn’t get too far before we came upon a car seat, just sitting there in the middle of nowhere. Of course, we had to each sit in it to have our picture taken.

Peace and Love is the theme hereFrom there we just kept walking toward the peace sign across the rocky terrain, which had dozens of washes and gullies running counter to the direction we were headed, which meant we had to constantly climb down one side and up the other of each of them. It seemed that no matter how long we walked, the cinder cone wasn’t getting any closer.
Finally, after about another 1.2 miles, we snuck up on it and began the very steep ¾-mile climb up its side to the peace sign. It was very hard, and part of the way, the peace sign disappeared behind it.

We did find a giant heart along the way, made in the same fashion of scraping off the surface red cinders to expose the lighter color below. When we finally got up to the peace sign, it was hard to tell it was one, because it was so huge.

Huge peace sign carved into the cinder coneGetting down the steep path was no piece of cake either as we slipped and slid on the loose scree. Then it was another mile back across the rocky washes to our palm oasis. Final tally was 4.5 miles.

My foot was aching quite a bit on the last mile. I’ve had a metatarsalgia (inflammation in the ball of the foot and bottom of the toes) in my left foot for the last couple of months, which means I am supposed to be resting it. I have trouble sitting still though, so it really hasn’t gotten any better, as I’ve pretty much continued going about my active life.

The steep climb and the volcanic rocks we had to walk over didn’t particularly help, but a soak in the hot spring and a glass of wine did a bit.

I promise I will rest it as soon as I get back home.

Day 2 - Saline Valley Sand Dunes, Salt Lake, and 4WD-drive to Hidden Valley

Saline Valley Sand DunesWe got up early to watch the sunrise before heading out for another day of off-road exploration.

When we got to the junction of Warm Springs and Saline Valley Roads, a man in purple-patterned long johns standing next to a fairly beat up camper on the side of the road called us over to see if we had jumper cables. He introduced himself as Miguelito and said that was his desert name. Hmm.. “Herb” seemed kind of nerdy in comparison.

Although we didn’t have jumper cables, Herbelito (which I now call him) did have a portable car jump starter. However, when Herb looked under the hood, he noticed stray wires sticking out of this guy's battery, which no longer seemed to be attached to anything. Miguelito had a grande problem. To satisfy him anyway, Herb tried to charge what was now as functional as a paper weight in terms of powering a vehicle.

Saline Valley Sand DunesMiguelito seemed quite unperturbed about the situation, making me think that this was not the first time he had landed himself in such a position. Eventually, a ranger came along so Miguelito sent us off with a big thank you for our efforts. We should be so relaxed under adversity.

A few miles south of the Warm Springs are the Saline Valley Sand Dunes, a pristine and rarely visited set of dunes with the 10,000-foot Inyo Mountains as a backdrop.

Herb loves photographing sand dunes and I often serve as his sense of scale by running way ahead of him along the ridge towards the top. I have served this role on four other dune complexes in Death Valley - Eureka (my biggest challenge as it rises almost 700 feet from the valley floor), Hidden Dunes, Mesquite Dunes, and the remote Ibex Dunes.

Saline Valley Sand DunesAfter this one, there is only one more in Death Valley to conquer - the even more remote Panamint Sand Dunes, which requires a 3.7-mile hike to just get to its base. We’ll have to see about that one.

The Saline Valley Dunes were an easy one for me - thankfully, because of my bad foot. They are much smaller and intimate than the other dunes in the park - the tallest being only about 40 feet, making them much easier to climb.

They are also very infrequently visited, so we were treated to pristine, virgin sand without another footprint in sight.

Salt LakeThe brown, tan, and black striated Inyo Mountains provided a wonderful backdrop and contrast to the lighter colored dunes.

No matter how many times we come to Death Valley, and I think this is our 10th visit, we always find something new to explore. It is afterall the largest National Park in the continental U.S. - almost as large as the state of Connecticut.

And the variety of landscape is amazing - from sand dunes, to palm oases, to hot springs, to colorful canyons, to volcanic craters, to waterfalls, and even a lake with a shore lined with salt crystals.

Remnants of salt mining on Salt LakeThat lake with the salt crystals, appropriately named Salt Lake, was next on our list, and located just a few miles south of the dunes on the Saline Valley Road.

While this lake is usually completely dry in summer, we were fortunate to be here in late Winter when it is large enough to reflect the mountains beyond it. We spent an enjoyable half hour wandering along the Shoreline Trail admiring the salt crystal patterns on its shoreline.

As in many places in Death Valley, no matter how remote they are, there is often the presence of man, mostly in the form of mining of some sort.

Sunrise in Hidden ValleyIn the early 1900s, salt was mined here, and transported by a Tramway over the Inyo Mountains to the Owens Valley. Some tramway towers and the structure across the lake are all that remain of what was once an active mining site.

After the Salt Lake we continued south on the Saline Valley Road. When we got to South Pass, rather than continuing on the Saline Valley Road to the asphalt of Stage Highway 190 in Panamint Springs, we made a hard left onto Hunter Mountain Road and continued north through the park towards Hidden Valley.

A sign at South Pass warned that travel on Hunter Mountain Road might be difficult because of snow, but since it was dated over 2 weeks ago, we decided to take a chance, assuming that whatever snow that had fallen had melted. We were right, and the drive up and over the 7,270-foot high Hunter Mountain, despite a few patches of snow and ice, went fine

Morning in Hidden ValleyIt was getting late and we wanted to find a place to camp for the night, so we skipped the side trip to the Goldbelt mining camp, which fortunately we had seen on a previous trip.

It gets dark so early this time of year, so we wanted to camp out in the openness of Hidden Valley rather than in the narrows of Lost Burro Gap, where we would buy ourselves at least an extra hour of light.

Hidden Valley is at an elevation of about 5,000 feet, which means two things: lots of Joshua trees and much cooler temperatures than in Saline Valley. When we woke up the next morning it was 28 degrees, something most people would be surprised at in Death Valley.

Day 3 Drive from Hidden Valley to Ubehebe Crater, Fall Canyon Hike, and Panamint Springs Resort

Teakettle JunctionIt was so so cold in the morning, which is the one thing I hate about camping in the 4Runner in winter. The other thing is that it gets dark so early, but that I can deal with by reading my Kindle
while tucked into my cozy bed. The cold is much worse.

We didn’t even make coffee, but rather turned the heat on and started driving. As it always does in the desert, we knew it would warm up in a few hours.

In about 5 miles we came to another one of Death Valley’s man-made attractions at Teakettle Junction, where the sign marking the junction of Racetrack and Hunter Mountain is strung with dozens of old teakettles.

Teakettle JunctionNo one quite knows how this tradition began, but rumor has it that kettles were hung to show early settlers that there was water nearby. Another theory is that it was considered good luck to leave a kettle with a message on or in it for fellow travelers to read. When the number of teakettles get to be too much, Rangers remove them, and the process begins all over again. This must have just happened, because all the kettles were dated 2022.

I thought it was quite clever how one traveler hung a single boot from the sign, which said, “Forgot the kettle, but left a boot.” Hope he has another pair.
All those teakettles got us thinking, so we pulled over and made ourselves some well-needed coffee.

We had the choice of continuing on to Ubehebe Crater and asphalt again, or a detour to the famous Death Valley Racetrack, where rocks mysteriously move across the dry lakebed on their own accord. We had watched those rocks sit still like rocks on the playa in past visits, so we continued on to Ubehebe Crater.

Ubehebe CraterAfter 160 miles of off-roading on bumpy roads, we were finally back on the pavement and saw other people for the first time in two days. We stopped at the rim of the Ubehebe Crater, a large volcanic crater 600 feet deep and half a mile across. We had hiked down to the bottom of it twice before, so we decided to pass on it this time. Besides, my foot wasn’t great so I had to ration my hiking miles - no repeats, just new stuff.

We really wanted to stay in a motel tonight, but Death Valley is very busy this time of year, so we weren’t sure if we would find anything. Of course, there’s no cell coverage in the Park, so we would just have to try our luck.

Fall Canyon hikeAs I mentioned, we were trying to do new things and see new places, so we decided to do the Fall Canyon hike off the Titus Canyon Road - the part before it becomes a one-way in the other direction.

From the parking lot, you can either hike into the mouth of Titus Canyon, or take the trail behind the restroom left (north) towards Fall Canyon. We had driven through Titus Canyon from Beatty on our last trip and it was phenomenal.

We followed the path from the restroom which runs northwest across alluvial fan deposits along the base of the Grapevine Mountains.

Fall Canyon hikeIn about a mile, we followed a steep rocky path down into a large wash and began heading right (east) up the drainage.

It wasn’t long before we entered the mouth of Fall Canyon, with its colorful striated walls of orange and black dolomite and limestone. As we progressed, the passage up the canyon got narrower and narrower.

Fall Canyon hikeAfter 3.4 miles, we came to a dead end, where a dryfall blocked any further progress up the canyon. We later learned that we had passed right by a possible bypass, about 50 feet short of the dryfall. However, the climb up the southern wall was recommended for expert climbers only. I was a little disappointed we had missed it, but my aching foot was thankful. So instead of scrambling up rocks, we hiked back from whence we came.

It was a very nice hike, often compared to the also spectacular Mosaic Canyon hike near Stovepipe Wells, which we had done last time. I think if I had to pick one it would be Mosaic Canyon in that you get to the good stuff much earlier in the hike, and the rocks were more colorful, although that might just have been a function of the lighting when we were there. In either case, you can’t go wrong with either.

Panamint Springs ResortTime to think about where to stay. The choices were Furnace Creek and Stovepipe Wells, which we had been to on our last visit, or something totally different - the Panamint Springs Resort, which would place us in an area of the park that we were less familiar with.

When we got a tiny bit of cell coverage near Stovepipe Well, we called and found out that they had a few cabins available, but we lost coverage before we could reserve one. We decided to head there anyway.

Our fellow resort guestsThroughout our travels, we have learned to not take the inclusion of the word “resort” in a motel’s name literally. However, all we needed was a clean room, a hot shower, and a place to eat in walking distance, which they did. An extra bonus was the wonderful views of the distant Panamint Sand Dunes and 11,000-foot-high Panamint Mountains. Plus, it put us in close proximity to two stellar hikes - Darwin Falls and the Panamint Dunes.

After a very welcome and highly needed shower, we took a glass of wine and sat at a little table in front of the cabins where the views of the dunes and the mountains were unobstructed.

We followed that with dinner on the outdoor patio of the Panamint Grill, which turned out to be very good.

I enjoyed our experience there. Its unpretentious, western-style atmosphere was very fitting for the location. You know what they say: When in Rome….

Day 4 - Darwin Falls hike, Panamint Sand Dunes Hike, and Camp at Dunes trailhead

Lower Darwin FallsThere are two great hikes from Panamint Springs - Darwin Falls and the Panamint Sand Dunes. We had a tough time deciding, so we chose to do both.

First, Darwin Falls. As I mentioned earlier, Death Valley is full of surprises, including an idyllic waterfall fed by a perennial creek, in the deep, lush narrows of Darwin Canyon. Sounded good to me.

We drove west on Highway 190 to a turnoff on the left (I think it was marked) for Darwin Falls. From the turnoff, it was a 2-mile drive on a gravel, bumpy road to the trailhead parking lot, where there were only two other cars.

Upper Darwin FallsFrom the parking lot, we set off on a well-traveled path along an open wash. After passing through two iron fences, the canyon began to narrow. At 0.8 miles, the rabbitbrush and indigo bush gave way to willows, cattails, and cottonwoods, and we began to hear the sound of flowing water. It was hard to believe we were in a desert.

In fact, the vegetation is so dense that we didn’t see the first waterfall (Lower Darwin Falls) until the last moment. It was lovely, plunging 20 feet onto a boulder where it splits into two channels, which flow into a shallow pool beneath. There was moss and maidenhair clinging to its wet walls, making it even prettier. This is the photo you usually see when googling Darwin Falls.

Most people turn around at this point, but the best was yet to come - Upper Darwin Falls. This part of the hike is not for everyone though, because it requires some rock climbing and route finding skills.

Darwin CanyonTo circumvent Lower Darwin Falls, we had to go back about 100 yards downstream and climb / scramble (Class 3 and 4) up a steep trail to ascend the side of the canyon. There were some areas with exposure that would not be fun for people afraid of heights. After climbing about 100 vertical feet in about a quarter of a mile, we reached a ledge with excellent views of the 60-foot unbroken cascade of Upper Darwin Falls, easily the most beautiful waterfall in the park.

This is an out-and-back hike, so we had to scramble back down to the Lower Falls - climbing down is always worse than up. It was only on the way down that we noticed how thick the vegetation is in the canyon. So much more lush and green than you would expect in Death Valley.

View of remote Panamint Sand Dunes from the Panamint Springs ResortVery worthwhile hike. Next stop, the Panamint Sand Dunes! But first, a big lunch at the Panamint Grill at the “resort” we stayed at last night. That way we could just make sandwiches after our hike tonight.

To get to the trailhead for the Dunes, we drove down a rough gravel road for 6 miles, passing dilapidated, rusted-out vehicles of past travelers that braved this road without the benefit of 4WD. We see rusted out old cars like this all over the desert. I give them credit for trying.

The trailhead parking area had only one car in it. Hopefully, it belonged to a day visitor, because we were planning to camp here tonight, because it would be dark by the time we returned.

Along the bumpy dirt road to the Panamint Sand Dunes trailheadJust to get to the dunes is a 3.7-mile hike and if you account for some time climbing up and playing on them, it would bring the total length of the hike (on sand) to more like 8 miles.

Herb had serious doubts whether this hike was wise or even doable with the foot issue I was having (metatarsalgia), but I was determined to go for it. It was our final planned hike in Death Valley, as well as the last of the 6 sand dunes complexes in the park to conquer. Is there such a thing as dune bagging?

I convinced him that I would be fine and that my foot would have plenty of time to rest on our way back to Bishop and then home.

The start of the trail to the distant Panamint dunesIt was already 1:15 and since sunset was 5:45 (actually earlier because of the surrounding mountains), we got ready to start. In the meantime, the owner of the one sole car in the parking lot returned. When I asked him if he made it to the dunes, he said, “No, no matter how long I walked, they didn’t seem to get any closer” - and that was after one hour out and one hour back.

We always use Strava to track our hikes, serving two very important purposes for me: 1) By constantly looking at the distance traveled, I can actually believe the dunes are getting closer, even if they don’t appear to, and 2) it shows the track we are taking on a map, so we can just follow our breadcrumbs back to the car. Also, it helps us look back later and remember what hikes we did. As we age, that becomes more and more important.

Finally there!Undaunted we set out across a rocky, sandy flat, populated mostly with creosote bushes. We’ve learned in past encounters with this bush that if you break a stem, it actually smells like creosote. Another fun fact is that it has the ability to secure more water for itself by inhibiting the growth of nearby plants - even other creosotes, so that is why they are dispersed the way they are. Seems like it is a “creosote eat creosote world” out in the desert. Good for us too, as there was plenty of space between them and us to hike through.

Eventually the rockier surface gave way to deeper sand, as we reached the sand apron surrounding the dunes. My foot appreciated the softer surface, but sand makes for slower progress. Plus, occasionally our feet would break through the top layer of sand and actually sink down several inches.

Lolo heading up the steep ridge of the Panamint Sand DunesAfter this happened a few times, we noticed it always occurred in places surrounded by deep holes of about 3 inches in diameter. Then it hit us. We were walking on top of some critters' homes and their tunnel system. Yikes! I picked up the pace.

Finally, the dunes really were getting closer and we knew now that we would make it. Most people don’t, and turn around well before getting to their base. Herb was so proud of me that he started referring to my foot as “the little bunion that could.”

Tough getting down the steep sandAt about 3.5 miles we started to climb along the ridge up to the summit of the highest dune. These were really steep. Nothing like the cute Saline Valley Dunes that we scampered up two days ago.

Herb sent me ahead because he likes taking photos of “Tiny Lolo” in large expanses. I don’t mind, because it is a very flattering photo.

Right on cue, as I was already struggling up the ridge, the wind picked up with a vengeance, blowing sand in our eyes and Herb’s camera, and making our progress very slow. My foot started to hurt quite a bit, so I sent Herb ahead, so I could take photos of “Tiny Herb.”

Time to make the 4-mile trek back to the carWe didn’t make it to the top of the tallest one, but we got pretty close. A later check on Strava showed that we had climbed 1,000 feet since we left the car, 250 of which were in the last quarter mile up the dune.

We kept an eye on the time, because we wanted to get back to the car before dark. I especially didn’t want to be hiking on top of critter tunnels in the dark.

We hustled and covered the 4 miles back in an hour and a half. My foot was killing me the last mile.

Camping at the Panamint Sand Dunes TrailheadOur car was still the only one in the small parking lot, so it looked like we would have it all to ourselves for the night, which was nice.

We were at a much lower elevation than our last camping at Hidden Valley, so it was warm enough to sit in our beach chairs and gaze at the stars. Death Valley National Park is an International Dark Sky Park because it has some of the darkest night skies in the U.S.

Herb stayed out longer, while I crawled into my cozy bed in the 4Runner and read my Kindle until I fell asleep. Sleeping was easy in a place so dark and quiet and peaceful.

Nice way to spend our last night in Death Valley.