Death Valley 2008
6-9, February, 2008
a
Mt. Shasta Snow Trip
"Post Trip"
pg. 2
... continued from the previous page ...
Last Chance Springs Road to Ubehebe Crater
It was a late night, that's for sure, but we woke fairly early, considering. Adventure does that to you. As does the sun, of course, since it is capable of cooking you fairly quickly in your sleeping bag, despite the relatively cool air. I snoozed a bit after waking at 7:30, having desert dreams, and then unfolded myself around 8:00, having a strong desire for strong cowboy coffee, which was put on first, followed by a sluggish frenzy of breakfast-eating and camp-breaking. We left our camp spotless, as you should expect, with no sign but our tire tracks remaining, but before embarking on a day of high adventure, an innocent stroll up the hill to get a better vantage over the buses for a snapshot turned into a full-on clamber/hike up to the summit ...
It was well-worth the effort to climb that hill. As it turned out, it was NOT one of those annoying "fake-summit-teaser" hills, and once we got to the top, the views afforded by standing on the end of this significant ridge were superb. To the north, the road we had taken up into the mountains was visible, and to the south, the awesome expanse of Death Valley with its snake-like roads and distant mountain ranges. Running parallel to the north-south ridge we were on, in the valley to the east, we could see yet another road wandering off into the distance. Beautifully stark, and immense. And in the distance, the contrails of bombers over the test ranges marred the simple clear blue of the sky, and the rumble of thousands of our tax dollars exploding dissolved the stillness we should have been enjoying ...
It was too much for just us. Already, we knew we had been preceded by the scourge of the West: Livestock. At least in the absence of wood (we were well-stocked) we'd have something to use as fuel for our cook-fires! The feelings of guilt that weren't overwhelming us should have included desires to not only tell others exactly how to get to where we were, but to initiate further "taming" of the land -- let the guv'mint know that they should install paved switchbacks up to this spot, complete with his-and-hers sanitary facilities, RV hookups, and a commemorative plaque explaining to visitors just how beautiful the desert was before they got there.
Right. What we were actually doing is enjoying the sun, the emptiness, the rocks, scrub, and the edgy breeze that swept over us. The only other sign of human life that morning was the rooster-tail of dust raised by a single vehicle approaching Crankshaft Junction from some considerable distance. As it got closer, Richard zoomed in on it with his fancy camera, (to make sure it wasn't the Rangers swooping down on us to collect their fees) but they eventually went up the other road, and we did not have to scurry down the slope to get our buses out of the way.
Once we got back to the buses, sometime around noon, we fired up our engines, and headed back down the mile or so to Crankshaft Junction. It was decided that we needn't take posed bus pictures at this landmark because it was so, well, "staged", but the real reason is that it would have been just another set of gratuitous bus pictures at a fairly bleak location, and we really had to get on with our "gettin' on". History: Apparently, in the early days, when emigrants made attempts to cross Death Valley on their way to the fertile Utopian valleys of California, they lost things. "Honk if something falls off!" Well, no-one honked (horn probably fell off), so refuse and debris was scattered along the trails and roads. Some clever, creative, and most likely, quite mad person decided to pile like objects in certain locations of note, and thus "Teakettle Junction", "Crankshaft Junction" and the like were created.
On Last Chance Springs Road, we were on the type of road buses (and us) are very happy on, but once we headed east and south on Death Valley Road, we found ourselves back in washboard hell. Not to say that it wasn't fun, though. Much better than a poke in the eye with a pointed stick (or a banana), it was best driven as fast as control would allow, which meant enjoying the wideness of the road, keeping an eyestalk extended for potential oncoming vehicles, and attempting to discern and avoid the more severe sections of washboard and large pointy rocks. By my judgment, this speed was in a range of approximately 35 mph to 45 mph. Slower than that, and the tires fall into each dip, resulting in maddening bus undulations, and too much faster, and the ability to maintain steerage was compromised by the fact that the tires are airborne more often than not.
Not long after heading out on this road "ribbed for our angst", during which I got to see and record the results of extreme vibration on the rear camera, we got the chance to stop after Richard's photo-video pass was aborted by a full short in the electrical system of the Rustybus, and I took the opportunity to adjust my ever-changing rear brakes, and we all reduced the pressure in our tires by at least half in hopes that the repetetetetition would not jar loose every nut in our buses and every nerve in our bodies. Nice time to enjoy a Sierra Pale, too!
Our various problems sorted out, and our nerves calmed somewhat, we proceeded at speed once again east on Death Valley Road. At this time, I was in the rear, flanking Kevin on the left, who was flanking Richard on the right. We drove this way for about two minutes, and then THOK! ... (tire-launched rock) ... and Bart's passenger windshield went from a nice clear (albeit dusty) pane to one of most beautiful and intricate aspect ... patterns of shattered tempered glass instantly sprang into being across Michele's view, and we both uttered heartfelt epithets in our surprise and dismay. After my CB transmission indicating to Richard and Kevin that I had a problem, I stopped, and began to speedily tape up the crackling (yes, it sounded like Rice Crispies) windshield before it left us a vacancy and a significant problem. Richard shortly appeared with the packing tape he had offered, and we set about applying laminations to the inside and outside surfaces of the glass, which miraculously held together, despite the many creaking and cracking sounds it made. To this date (2-Mar-08), this pane is still intact, awaiting the installation of the new glass that is now in my possession. Note to self (and all you all out there): Get yerself a sheet of Plexiglas or Lexan and cut it to size using a real windshield as template, and carry it as a spare along with a new window rubber!
After the taping, as you might surmise, I was a little wary about the glass holding, and tried to drive a bit slower to make sure it didn't let loose (lest Michele have to spend the rest of the trip wearing my RAF goggles), and as a result, driving slower than than the other two. It was a relatively lonely drive, but I took solace in the fact that I enjoyed (as did Michele, likely more so) the surrounding terrain, which was increasingly interesting, with alkali flats and fields of lava and grey hills with rocky out-croppings, and even some curves in the road as it followed the contours of the land. I also enjoyed watching the distant plumes of road dust that signified to me that my friends were still alive and well.
At approximately 1:58, I came upon two vintage Volkswagen Transporters, and, fancy that, we were already acquainted with both of them and their owners! We had arrived at the Stop Sign! Yes, out there in the middle of the desert, a sign stood, bluffly signifying that we should come to a complete stop, look both ways, and then proceed in the direction indicated by our desires after determining that we were not in danger of being obliterated by a garbage truck or a herd of rampaging hippopotami. This particular intersection was a "Y" in the road, with one arm (left) following Death Valley Road south-east, and the other (right) taking the curious to Ubehebe Crater. Which way do you think we went?
Yes, we went the "right" way: To Ubehebe Crater! A couple miles or so of inverse washboard asphalt, a stunning view of nothingness (really cool desert views!) and, after a peculiar round-about curve in the climbing roadway, a small parking area overlooking a large puckered hole in the ground, with a mountain range framing it in the east. Needless to say, we got out and had a bit of a look-see ... and down into the vent we went!
Feeling somewhat like insects drawn into the trap set by a rather large antlion, we walked down the extremely steep trail of fine cascading lava-gravel, some of us skidding gleefully, others gasping on stubby legs, and all of us frequently found in strange poses, with unusual objects pressed up against our faces. It was quite a descent, and we couldn't help but wonder why the bottom surface of the crater was not filled up with scree from the footfalls of human (and other) visitors, as well as the depredations of time, wind, and yes, even water.
The crater floor was flat, and mostly parched, though it was obvious that water accumulates enough to create mud, as well as to further the efforts of those hardy plants brave enough to take root in it. A small forest of scrawny trees/bushes of some type were apparently quite happy, as well as rabbit brush (I think) and some other ubiquitous desert scrub. On the northwest slope of the crater, a massive rib of tortured white sandstone of some type made for a neat natural accent, and the cliffs to the south and east were intensely creased vertical walls of red earth. All around the base of the crater walls, caves, rockfalls and crevasses formed likely hiding spots for monsters (dragons, pugs, Gorn), and provided us with some great amusement as we explored this awesome remnant of an ancient volcano.
At one point, Kevin wandered into the precise center of the crater and was overtaken by the Rapture of the Vortex, but luckily he had his faithful guard pugs to protect him. Later, as we were about to undertake the trudge back to the top, we turned back in time to see Richard in the throes of the Ubehebe heebie-jeebies, but he was able to wrest control of himself back by stealing their souls with his devil-box.
Vortices and heebies could not keep us from our buses, but gravity sure gave it a go! It was a hard, steep climb, but we all made it, and found ourselves suddenly cold in a bracing wind after a long hot climb through relatively still air in the sun. Refreshing! The road down from the 3000-year-old crater swooped around and then met up with itself (a loop), and at this late time (3:26), we had to make some decisions about how to best spend the rest of the day, so at the Grapevine Ranger Station/Checkpoint, we made those plans, had lunch, availed ourselves of the conveniences, and about-faced to exit the Park ...
Go to Page 3 of the Death Valley Saga!
Video: Last Chance Springs Road to Ubehebe Crater
Death Valley Video Ch. 2 (16.5 MB, 320x240, 2:21, Windows Media Video)
Death Valley Video Ch. 2 (smaller file) (9.5 MB, 240x180, 2:21, Windows Media Video)
Here's a video "synopsis" of sorts from our Death Valley experience: Dust, Rust, and Sage: A Synopsis (19.2 MB, 320x240, 2:29, Windows Media Video)
Dust, Rust, and Sage: A Synopsis (smaller file)-(10.9 MB, 240x180, 2:29, Windows Media Video)
Death Valley '08 Photo Galleries:
-Kevin's Photos- -Michele's Photos- -Gene's Photos-
End Page Two, Death Valley '08
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