January 3, 2005 - Indio, CA - (Death Valley)

As we came into the Furnace Creek Visitor Center, the first buildings we saw belonged to the Death Valley Inn.  The highway on the other side of the Inn was washed out, big time, and we then knew why the detour that somebody from Las Vegas would have to take.  We got a kick out of seeing signs like this posted at various places in the valley.

This is a common scene.  One of us gets out of the rig to register us.  Not sure what the ranger found so funny, but she was enjoying a chuckle that's for sure.  We sure do meet a lot of really nice people with this lifestyle.

The "20 Mule Team" is sort of a marketing thing we learned.  The team size would usually vary, but mostly contained 18 mules and two horses.  But as a ranger pointed out, "18 mules and 2 horse team soap" was an awkward sell.  And those wagons were built sturdy too.  Notice the size of the brakes!

Looking inside the wagons you can see differences in construction technique, but the strength is obvious.  Borax is heavy stuff I guess.  Took 10 days to haul it out.

Then a quick visit to the Death Valley Ranch which is sort of a village of cabins and RV's, the post office, and these other stores.  Alongside the back of the ranch is a golf course, and we simply had to include the sign for our good friend and golf nut Bill McKinley.  Playing here, you could really get "down" on your game, eh?  And this golf course was just one of a constant streams of surprises for us.  We didn't really know what to expect here in Death Valley, but it wasn't lovely palm trees, smoke trees providing great shade, creeks and streams and springs.  Much less a nice looking golf course.  I suppose we expected desolation, sand dunes, barren rocks, etc.  What fun.

The view from the first tee, more or less.  Shortly after we settled in, here came Bill and Diane.  About a week earlier we'd discovered we'd both be visiting the Valley at the same time, and they were kind enough to hunt us down and park nearby so we could chat and go exploring together.  We found them to be very compatible with our style of poking around, and it was fun to swap drivers once in a while as well.  We met them at the Rainbow's End Escapees park in Livingston, TX, sometime in early 2003 I think it was.  They're the ones that wear aloha shirts most the time and are easy for me to spot in the crowd, if you remember the shots of them at LOW in July 2004.  Here they could pull into their space "backwards" because there are no hookups to worry about.  Maybe we were the ones that were "backward", but parking like this makes it easy to stay in touch.  Nearly every evening we'd walk together over to the visitor center and listen to the ranger presentation/slide show.

Bill and Diane are cat people, which is another point in their favor.  Evita (spelling?) is her name--if that aint it, it's close--and she's a charmer.  One of the friendliest creatures on this earth.  Comes running over to you to get petted, no matter who you are.  Has extra toes as well, and is just generally a joy to be around.  The raven took exception to her walking around under "his" tree, and she kept an eye on him the whole time she was out.  She gets a daily walk, and will let them know in no uncertain terms when it's time to go for her walk.  She is one of the very few cats we've seen on a halter that actually behaves much like a dog, in that she will go to the limits of the line but not force the issue.  She'll stop to sniff something, and when gently pulled on, will stop sniffing and trot along obediently.  Almost.  She is, after all, a cat.

We took in as many of the ranger talks as we could.  This one is on the wild (feral) burros that are so devastating to the environment.  Barb is pointing out the fact that Death Valley is one of the driest places in the US, with an average rainfall of 1.8 inches per year.  Waialeale, Kauai, HI leads the list with 460 inches per year.

We've come to the Harmony Borax works to see what there is to see.  And there's the "18 mule & 2 horse team" all hitched up and ready to go.  Gee.  T-shirts.  And here it is 61 degrees and raining in Indio where it's supposed to be warm.  At least the clouds have lifted enough so we can see the mountains again.

The center of gravity for these wagons sure is high, it seems to me.  Must have worked for them though.  And the Borax works sure have seen better days.

Imagine that.  Getting the summer off because the Borax wouldn't crystallize at temperatures above 120 degrees.  And I used to complain when the air-conditioning would quit working in my office.

More scenes around the Harmony Borax Works.  And I was sorely tempted to take that single track trail just to see what was around the bend, but was dutifully restrained by Barb because of the warning signs telling us to stay on the roads and "official" trails.  But we did enjoy the contrasting colors of the hills around us.  Constantly.  It must have been a daunting task for the early pioneers to get into and out of this valley.  We found it pure joy.

Salt Creek.  Barb said the water was cool, but wouldn't taste it.  Bill mentioned something about giardia, but I'm here to tell you it tasted salty.  Really yukky salty, like the ocean only worse.

There is an interpretive trail (boardwalk) along Salt Creek for a ways, taking us finally into some sand.  The alluvial fans (fourth & fifth photos) in Death Valley are all over the place.  More than we've seen in any one place before.  This was one of the smaller ones.

Evidence of lots of water is everywhere.  Sometimes it's flowing, sometimes it's just a puddle from a spring, and sometimes it's long gone.  But the shape of the land is evidence of its powerful presence in the past.

Well, the stovepipe is long gone, and we didn't see any water, but we believed the sign anyway.

We took a short walk up Golden Canyon, and while nice, we didn't find anything particularly outstanding.

These beggars would sing us to sleep (and sometimes wake us up!) every night.  This one was obviously bored with posing for us, and there was no way we were going to contribute to its early death by feeding it.  We were on our way up Scotty's Castle and we saw several of these mooching coyotes on the way.

This one had his own little routine.  He'd stop us, and then trot around the Jeep, stopping at each side to see if we were going to reward him for his performance.  We didn't.  Matter of fact, we stopped at the ranger station and reported him for begging.  The rangers knew about him, and said it was OK to honk or make noises to discourage them from begging.  What a kick.  Harassing the wildlife was encouraged!  I got a big kick out of that and was waiting for it to happen again so I could chuck a rock or two at them.  But of course, that action was outvoted 3:1, so no rock throwing was allowed.  And horn blowing wasn't much of a deterrent either, we later learned.  They must be used to it.  We were fascinated by the black "ruff" on the back of these guys.  We've not seen that before.  When I trapped them in northern California as a boy they didn't have it that I could remember, and the ones we trapped in FL in 2000/2001 didn't have it either that we could remember.  And finally, Scotty's Castle.  Well, at least the bell tower of Scotty's Castle.