Death Valley is a wondrous place, despite its name. It is famous for its low elevations (-282 feet is the lowest in North America) and high heat (134 degrees F in 1913, the North American record). But there's so much more here than just endless flat desert, which is what I think many people envision Death Valley to be. It's actually a deep-cut depression flanked by gigantic mountain ranges, with the Panamints reaching over 11,000 feet high. The depression is covered in salt deposits. There are beautiful slot canyons, sand dunes, maar craters, dry lakes and endless opportunities to explore. The national park is larger than Connecticut, so they say. That's about all the two have in common. The sheer scale of the place is what blows me away, that and the beauty. Photos barely convey the sense of scale. It is gigantic, and amazing. I love it here.

In college I used to drive up to Death Valley about once every three or four months, explore, camp, sometimes alone, sometimes with friends. I've been here in summer when tempertaures have been at about 125, and I have been here in winter when lows were about 15 degrees. Naturally, the best season to visit is winter, but summer has its attractions. It seems the Europeans come here a lot in summer. I know there are a lot of companies that offer one-day day trips to Death Valley from Las Vegas. I recall two guys snapping photos of Badwater from their car, AC blasting, wearing sweaters for pete's sake, when it was pushing 120 outside. Don't get me wrong, I like Europeans, but they can be so European sometimes. Man, you have to let the heat experience you, baby!

In 2005 over spring break, Beth and I drove up to Death Valley for a visit. It had rained a lot and the depression was actually filled with water, creating a true lake for the first time in many years! It was stunning. They say this happens maybe once or twice per century. We started our drive west along Interstate-10 to the bustling burg of Desert Center, the peculiar town located halfway between Blythe and Indio in California. What an odd town. Over the years it has died more and more; it barely hangs on, but it could be better. We had a lunch at the cafe. Then we drove up and visited the Amboy Crater, a recent (e.g. past 1,000 years) magma eruption. We walked in the lava but not to the crater. Then we drove to Kelso Dunes where we camped for the night. You can read about that here.

We spent the next three days in Death Valley. We mainly drove all over the place, checking out the wildflowers. We drove up the West Side Highway, a dirt road that runs up the west side of the salt flats before connecting again to the paved route near Furnace Creek. We explored up Hanaupah Canyon, even looking for a spot to camp, but all the good ones were taken, and you can't "scatter" camp in the park, so we left Hanaupah Canyon, and by the time we got to Furnace Creek, it was late. We camped at an awful hard-pack with hundreds of others. The only upside were some neat sandstone hills nearby, which I hiked early in the morning. We also explored Titus Canyon, then camped for a night near Scotty's Castle. The third day we explored Ubehebe Crater (a maar crater, where underground water meets magma, and boom), then drove the bumpy tracks past Tin and Dry Mountains to the Racetrack, where large stones somehow move along the playa, although no one has even seen it in action. I picked one up and saw little wheels underneath. Mystery solved.

From here we left via Nevada and slowly made our way homeward. The trip had been wonderful. My nose, on the other hand, was not too happy, given all the pollen.