A Death Valley Running Vacay
Almost Famous Volcano Tour?
Wonderland run?
How much time has passed since those adventures... 6 years? A lifetime? Is there even a difference during a time when a week can feel like an eternity and a year just passed by in the blink of an eye.
About 6 weeks ago I was being a bit of a grey cloud at home. I was part of the way through handling my mom’s estate and kept repeating (edit: complaining) that I needed some time to go to a tropical beach, do nothing, and just process the last year but especially the last torturous 6 months. I envisioned myself on a chaise lounge staring at the water all day, silently becoming a crispy human in the hot sun. Maybe I could sunburn the sadness out of me.
The universe threw me a lifeline when my dear friend Nichole messaged me. Any chance you’re free to go to Death Valley for a running vacation at the end of March? Absolutely. It was not the sandy beach I imagined but there is sand and salt water in Death Valley so I counted it as equal, plus I would be with a great adventure buddy during her birthday week. Perfect! Finally something uplifting.
We met in Palm Springs which doesn’t really make any sense geographically as Los Angeles and Las Vegas would have been closer, however I was in Palm Springs once for a wonderful celebration of my friend Kimmy and the location is associated with good feelings and happy times. This turned out to be the ideal meet up location since we were able to borrow gear from Nichole’s dad, gather supplies in a low stress environment, and get fairly affordable accommodations. We rented a Nissan Rogue with an unpredictable automatic rear hatch and an ongoing joke of mine was to yell out, “it’s gone Rogue,” every time the door would try to chop Nichole’s head off. I really do crack myself up!
Once headed northbound we concocted our plans with an adventure a day starting early and ending midday to enjoy the downtime. Surprise Canyon, Telescope Peak on Nichole’s birthday, Wildrose Peak, Cottonwood/Marble Canyon Loop, Funeral Canyon, then back to Palm Springs. The total came to 50, 60, 70 miles in 5 days? Whatever we will figure it out. Nichole reminded me that her home of Leadville has been under snow and that her running isn’t at peak condition. I was just happy to be there running any amount of miles. Type 1 to Type 3 fun, I was down for it all.
Surprise Canyon:
Since this was planned on a driving day we arrived to the canyon at about 2pm. It was hot down low but luckily there was a lot of water in the creek and on the trail. Early on we scrambled up waterfalls and through overgrown bushes and trees. As we gained elevation the temperature dropped dramatically. The Panamint Ghost Town received several inches of snow during the night and the air was cool and the wind was biting. “We came for the heat,” I said jokingly as we piled on our layers and ate snacks while shivering. After determining our feet were losing feeling we hightailed it back down the canyon, thankful for the increasing temps down low. The bulk of this trail was pretty technical with the overgrowth and steep rocky canyon, but overall it was definitely a worthy stop for our first run of the trip.
Cute and odd things found in the desert
We found a great camp spot far up the road near the Charcoal Kilns to check out the sunset, make tacos for dinner and get to sleep early in preparation for day two.
Telescope Peak:
The gate was closed at the kilns so we had an extra 1.6 miles each way. “You ok with that,” Nichole asked? Yeah, it’s chill. Let’s do this. The road climb was fairly cruiser although steep. We pushed hard to pass groups of people since we didn’t want to get behind them on the single track. There was a very young boy hiking in a group. “That kid is tougher than me. I would have died doing this at his age,” I said. For real. We greeted people in passing and marveled at how friendly trail people have been this last year. Nothing like a pandemic to make you enjoy basic human encounters.
The trail up was gorgeous with views thousands of feet down to the lowest point in the US. We encountered snow starting at about 9500 feet, becoming consistent and only a little annoying and slippery on the final climb to the summit. We spent a short time on the summit before getting cold and heading down towards warmer temperatures. On the way down Nichole got the screaming barfies. While Nichole did the cold hand dance I exclaimed, “we came for the heat!” I’m not sure my humor was picked up on but at least I was giggling about it.
We encountered many people heading up the trail as we came down. One man called out, “Nichole??” We moved off the trail and Nichole asked if she knew the man. “No, but I read in the book at the trailhead that it’s your birthday. I wanted to wish you a happy birthday. Happy birthday!!!” I had written that we came for a birthday run/hike and this man made the effort to remember that information, making it a goal to wish Nichole a happy birthday. Geez, there are some good people out there in this world. The trail down was fast and flowy running, not a thought in my mind aside from staying vigilant to not trip on a rock. When feeling short of breath at elevation I’d tell myself you’re fine, you’re fine, this is fine. Feet down, eyes up, heart open. How easy is this compared to everything else in recent life? So easy.
We planned to camp in the same spot but were informed by a ranger that it was not a camp spot. Whoops, no. Definitely not planning to camp here. On the way down the canyon we made a wrong turn and ended up heading towards the heart of Death Valley. This was a fortunate error because we ended up finding Panamint Springs where we got gas, replenished our ice, and found free camping on BLM land. We cooked more tacos (day 3 of tacos, is there any other way?) and discussed our plans for the next day. We agreed to change plans, skip Wildrose and take a mellow rest day. There were some sand dunes we could see from camp and decided we would check those out and take the rest of the day to do yoga.
Before sunset a pimped-out truck with a fancy small trailer drove towards our camp. “No, no, no,” Nichole said. They drove through the desert over the shrubs, windows down, music blaring with two guys on adventure bikes following. I said hopefully that they may go far away from us. I was wrong. Dudes piled out of the truck like clowns from a clown car. Nichole lamented that these guys would probably be up late being loud and partying. Before I could offer some encouraging words the drumming began. You’ve gotta be kidding me.
What’s worse than a drum circle? A drum circle with some whiny voiced man singing along. Oh my god, they were awful. Our commentary continued for a while. This entire desert and these people had to set up shop next to us. What are the odds? We considered moving camp but instead continued to lament what the internet has done to places. Who were these frat boys that were drumming for the Gram? Drumming under the full moon, what a cliche. Realizing the toxicity of my thoughts I crawled into my tent. Who was I to judge? This land is your land, this land is my land... or some shit like that. This land could be snatched from us in an instant just like it was from its original inhabitants. Better enjoy it while we can.
Panamint Sand Dunes:
Our rest day turned into a “rest” day. The employee at the Panamint store gave us the beta. Drive out the dirt road, park below the dark circle in the hill and go from there. He informed us that it was a three mile off trail walk to the dunes. The female employee was shaking her head at me. Am I being sandbagged right now? I kind of hope so. Nichole and I laughed that we would be running in sand at midday on the hottest day of the trip. Three miles from the car and the dunes didn’t really seem much closer, but the last mile to the top of the central dune was deceiving with the heat of the sun rising from the valley floor. We backtracked following our footprints, quickly finding ourselves back at the Panamint store for cold refreshments.
The same employee saw us, “you ladies were fast! Look at you, you’re back already. Want a refreshing outing now?”
“I was kind of hoping for some ice cream but yeah, where should we go next?”
He sent us off to Darwin Falls. If seeing waterfalls in the desert is your thing this is a worthwhile stop. (Don’t get in the water, it’s the only source for all of Panamint)
Back at the store again we chatted with other visitors, most of whom were individuals visiting to ride dirtbikes and enjoy the desert. Several people had taken leave from work during the pandemic, many used the outdoors to get through tough times, and some retired early and talked about moving away from toxic jobs, overcrowded cities, and lives they were slaves to for years. Even though I love my life I try to take this lesson to heart. What is a life well lived to me? This life is short and precious. Gone in a blink.
Marble Canyon:
We had some varying information on the Cottonwood/Marble Canyon Loop. One source said 26 miles, another said 31 miles, while another said 41 miles. One recent report said there were two water sources available while other reports mentioned carrying 7 liters of water and no water sources. I suggested we see how far we can drive up the dirt road and go from there. Nichole agreed. At about 7 miles out the road our car started to smell like it was on fire. Awesome. We stopped and got out, checked the entirety of the vehicle but couldn’t find any indication of what was wrong. “Maybe it’ll magically fix itself,” I said kind of jokingly but also realizing that lying to myself is a coping mechanism I use frequently. “That won’t actually happen,” Nichole responded. Oh it might! I lied to myself again. We continued on and eventually the smell went away just like I knew it would. Unfortunately now our back suspension sounded clunky. In the parking lot I gazed upon a rear shock that was very much fucked. Ah, that explains it! We decided not to venture further out the wash and to hoof it from the first parking lot.
We arrived at the split in the loop in just under 3 miles. After a discussion we decided to do an out and back in Marble Canyon. I really just wanted to see the narrows anyway and Nichole was honest in saying that she didn’t want the day to turn into a suffer-fest. Deal, I can come back for that anytime.
The canyon was amazing. Towering walls curved over the trail that followed a path created by centuries of flowing water through the hills. We cruised through the canyons, our hands skimming the smoothness of the walls. After a few hours we decided to turn around and head back. We would end up in the dry, hot wash at the heat of the day regardless but figured getting back with ample day light was necessary for our car that would have to slowly limp down the rocky road. In the open the heat and sun were oppressive. Again I told myself you’re fine, you’re fine, this is fine. Two miles from the car I got a nasty nose bleed and simultaneously had a van pull up, “you ladies want a ride?” Nichole didn’t skip a beat, “yeah!” The older couple moved items so we could sit in the back of their van. We exchanged stories and thanked them profusely for the expedited return to our vehicle.
That night we camped in Stovepipe Wells much to our chagrin. We were happy to have a convenient spot but the campground lacked a certain kind of aesthetic. Oh well, we were happy for calm air and clear skies. I was looking forward to the next day, my mom’s birthday, and a shorter outing to the longest and narrowest accessible slot canyon in the valley. I envisioned being in the cold narrow canyon, taking a moment to pay respect to the woman that raised me.
Unbeknownst to us wind was moving in. I slept through the beginning of the storm, occasionally awakening to make sure my tent was ok. At 11:45 pm I woke up to a gust that flattened my tent against my body. Ah oh! The gust subsided and I rolled onto my belly and assumed the starfish position. I stayed like this for a while, holding down all corners of my tent while wondering if I’d get rolled across the campground. What was worse was that we were next to the sand dunes, so every gust included a wall of sand. Suddenly I remembered that Nichole was in her super lightweight tent. I peered out and everything seemed ok. Since the wind was so loud I reached for my phone to text her. “You ok over there?” I instantly began laughing at the audacity of the situation. Starfished and holding my tent down, laughing hysterically at midnight hoping not to get blown away. This is what vacations are made of! Nichole called out, “fuck this I’m getting in the car.”
“You are!”
“Yes. At first I thought that there’s only 5 more hours until we wake up but my eyes and teeth are full of sand so I’m done with the tent.”
“I want to get in the car! I mean, I’m getting in too.”
We quickly collapsed our tents, rolled them up, threw them in the back and crawled in the front seats. I was still laughing. Laughing so hard I was crying. I finally chilled out and fell asleep. We “slept” for the rest of the night, waking to our alarm clock and the continued sand storm outside.
Funeral Slot Canyon:
Was I surprised when I couldn’t stand up straight after assuming the fetal position in the driver seat of a small SUV? No. My lumbar was seized up. Was I surprised when Nichole raised her legs and had swollen feet that looked like the feet of a person with CHF after eating Thanksgiving ham? Nope. Did I have any regrets when we decided to skip the next canyon and GTFO of Death Valley? Not even close. The events of the last 24 hours wrecked me. Hot and sweaty day followed by a sweaty night. The sandstorm was the actual feathering to the sweaty tarring and I had sand in places I don’t care to mention.
We stopped in Badwater and walked a out the salty path. There we were, the lowest place in the US. We talked about how much tougher settlers of this land were than current people. Showing up here, seeing the vastness of this valley with its uneven surface, experiencing the heat of the desert and doing everything they could to survive or just get past the next wall of mountains. “Those people didn’t live very long,” Nichole mentioned. Touché. We also talked about the gripes of aging, bodies not responding like they use to with activities and stresses. Getting older is tough, especially on the ego.
The rest of our trip was pretty low key. We stopped at the Pisgah Crater, which I would not recommend to anyone else unless you enjoy looking at a hot pile of rubble. Afterwards we found a hippy-ish spot in the desert to rent complete with a hip yogi, an old dog and two resident ducks. The pool was really an overstated duck pond but neither the owner, the dog, nor I cared enough to shoo the ducks away from their oasis for me to swim.
Back in Palm Springs we got a hotel on the main street. We swam, looked at Mount San Jacinto and ate more tacos. Nichole and I marveled at the fact that we spent the last week, which was spring break, in a National Park and managed to find multiple adventures that weren't overrun with other people, actually we were often no where near other people it was amazing. Thanks to Nichole I got to spend a week laughing so hard I cried multiple times and daydreaming a lot about future adventures. May have even forgotten we were still in a pandemic for a moment.
Nice read and images! Neat adventure. High fives!
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