Death Valley

The next day we continued on towards Death Valley, the closer we got the hotter it got. A stop at the visitor centre revealed that it was going to be 47 degrees that day. It felt like 50 already.

This aerial view of Death Valley gives you a good idea of the rich, colourful landscape (click to enlarge)

The hills around Death Valley are multicoloured and obviously rich in minerals, they reminded me a lot of the Atacama Desert in Chile. After exploring the desert for a while we decided to find a camp site early, set up and chill out for a while (as much as is possible on a 47 degree day). The guide book was vague, the map even more so. Our first choice turned out to be a treeless patch of gravel just off the highway. Some poor souls were already camped/roasting there, I can only assume it was because they were on bikes and couldn’t go anywhere else. We could, and did.

Next to Camp Car Park...and the only tree for miles...which is currently not providing any shade.

Our second choice was up in the hills (maybe there would be trees), through a narrow pass and at the end of a couple of miles of dirt road


…..there were no trees.

Camp Hot and Lumpy.

Mmmm....inviting.

We back tracked and were feeling a little hot and over it by now. We decided to try the enticingly named “Furnace Creek” camp ground. It turned out to be pretty sweet. It was still a billion degrees but some thoughtful person had planted a snaking line of weeping conifers throughout the camp grounds which provided shade and a soft bed of pine needles. Score!

Furnace Creek camp ground

Feeling good about finally finding a camp ground that isn’t like the surface of Mars.

While we were setting up a funny looking bird visited us. ‘It’s a roadrunner’ Sharon told me. Yep, there was no mistaking it once she had pointed it out. It didn’t make any noise but I heard the ‘beep! Beep!’ in my head.

After we had set up the camp we rushed off to an area of sand dunes to watch the sun set.


We didn't quite make it in time for the sunset but we amused ourself in the still baking heat by taking lots of silly photos. Some other tourists offered to take photos of us but we were really just succumbing to the heat by then and only interested in looking like idiots. Luckily we are both experts.

Sharon trying to tutor me in the ways of photo bombing.

Over exposure does wonders for the complexion.

My beautiful friend Sharon in the desert, with the moon...and heatstroke...just kidding that tube she is holding is attached to a big sack of water. They don't call it a camel back for nothing.

Back at the camp we had enough ice in the esky to chill two small bottles of wine which was good because by the time we had set up and made dinner we were both hot and tired. After the sun went down the ground just kept radiating heat. We estimate it didn’t get below 34 that night.

I had discovered running water in the toilet block and a sink. Score! I ran the water for a while to cool it down....the pipes must be near the surface of the ground....still waiting.....eventually I realised that there was not going to be any cold water. :( The next day we found out the significance of the name 'Furnace Creek' . The town water supply comes from a hot spring. In summer the locals get their cooler water from their hot water storage tanks which have been turned off. The hot water comes straight out of the cold tap. This explained why the toilet block was like a sauna. Apart from the heat radiating off the brick walls, the steam coming out of the toilet bowls didn't help the situation. Getting your bottom steamed could become a popular new spa treatment but we weren't enjoying it. We spent as little time as possible in the building as just walking in the door made us break out into a sweat.

We found a sink outside, behind the toilet block and in the dark of the night we furtively stripped down to our underwear and washed. The hot wind gave us some cooling evaporation but it only lasted about 10 seconds then we were dry. By the time we walked the 50 meters back to the camp site we were hot again, it was still about 40 degrees at this point and the ground was still radiating. We had left the fly off the tent and I slept with a wet facecloth tied around my neck, Sharon with one draped over her forehead.

The next morning when we turned back onto the highway a coyote strolled across our path. My Loony Tunes experience was complete.