Death Valley Recap


Length of Stay:

  • 2 days, 1 night


  • Standing at the lowest point in the continent



Favorite Hike:

  • Golden Canyon to Red Cathedral
Golden Canyon hike

Favorite Treat:

  • Vanilla custard I discovered at a tiny roadside stand
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White salt on the ground and white snow on the mountains

Death Valley Bust: Part III

A continuation from Death Valley Bust: Part I and Part II

The entire region experiences the effects of strong winds. (News article)

Once again, the crinkling plastic water bottle alerted me to my change in elevation. My car shuddered, responding to the huge gusts of winds, and I felt my MyPod oscillate behind me as I began my slow ascent out of the Valley.

I was in for a wild ride – 30 miles of road, wind, and low visibility. I kept my thoughts favorable: there was a hotel close by, where I was hoping to stay for the night.

I let out a sigh of relief when I spotted a long white motel-looking building in the distance. I pulled up close so the wind would be slightly buffered as I checked in. I sprinted to the door, accidentally flinging it open so a gust caught it. “Sorry,” I said to the lady at the front desk.

My heart sank as I looked around. The waiting room was full of weary travelers. It was a shot in the dark, but I asked, “Do you happen to have any rooms available for tonight?”

“Sorry hon, nothing left.”

I stood in place for about a minute, gathering my thoughts and stirring up my fortitude for more driving. I knew that there were more small towns in the near proximity, but my best bet might by Pahrump (yep, that’s a real name), which was another good 45 minutes away.

As I ran back to my car, I spotted others parking and gathering their things to check in. “Just so you know, there’s no more rooms for tonight,” I shouted over the racket of the wind. I could tell that neither the young couple nor the father standing by the mini van heard me. “No more room,” I yelled. Both parties gave a nod of thanks and ran back to their vehicles. Everyone and his brother were trying to find a safe, quiet place to settle down for the night. It was survival of the fittest, but, unfortunately, I was at a disadvantage having to lug an extra 550 lbs behind me.*

More driving.

More wind.

More dust.

When I pulled up over a set of mountains, I began to check my phone for signal every 5 minutes or so. Pahrump was close, and I was intent on calling up a hotel rather than simply showing up.

Holiday Inn – no vacancies

Best Western – no room at the inn

And so on and so forth. I called five places, before the fifth one kindly explained that the whole entire city was booked up. “You’ll have to go to Vegas, sweetheart.”

I forlornly pulled over, filled up with gas, and heated up some food for dinner.

I would be returning to Vegas with my tail between my legs. Death Valley ate me up and spit me back out. Checking my phone, I noticed that the next day was slated to be almost as miserable weather-wise.

Once I secured an Airbnb, I hopped in my car for another hour-long ride. I was exhausted. There was grit in my ears, nose, eyes, shorts, shirt, and shoes. My poor car had a thin layer of grime over everything in the front seat. Despite the craziness of my day, I smiled as I listened to music and headed eastward to Sin City. Though days like these aren’t the most fun, they certainly are memorable. I would have much rather spent a long, fabulous day enjoying the sights and wonders of Death Valley National Park, yet there was something invigorating about my wind/dust storm adventure. When hit with obstacles, we can choose our response; I have found that optimism is always the best way to go.

Two days later I returned to the Valley. It was a gorgeous day with perfect (hot) weather. Death Valley: redeemed.


*Clarence, I have no problem with your weight, but at this point in time, I felt like it was a slight inconvenience.

Death Valley Bust: Part II

A continuation from Death Valley Bust: Part I

The wind stirred up layers of silt and dust, obscuring the road and making it difficult to see. I watched a poor crow try to fly towards shelter. Flapping his wings furiously, he eventually gave up and just let the wind carry him. I slowed down my speed drastically, straining my eyes to see the center yellow line. The wind picked up even more, allowing me to see only five feet in front – just enough to spot the taillights of another car.

I followed this Subaru for about 20 miles at a snail’s crawl. I could hear the sound of small pebbles hitting my car roof, sounding like a minor hailstorm. Larger rocks skittered across the road, along with uprooted plants. Eventually we reached an intersection.

Even more bedlam.

Cars had pulled over, simply giving up on driving. The National Park service had closed down one portion, and plows were being sent out to scrape dirt and debris off of road surfaces. I was so close to my camp, and determined to check up on Clarence, so I slowly edged my way through the impromptu parking lot.

wind storm
The view from my windshield. Click here for video.

After another 15 minutes of white-knuckle driving, I pulled into camp. Thankfully I had left the window closed, or else my MyPod would have been brimming with soot. I scavenged my wheel chocks, which had gone flying, and tried to hunt down my entrance mat. Putting these items back in their designated container proved another challenge; a huge gust swept up the lid, whipping it away at lightning speed. Off I went again, holding my shirt down so it wouldn’t keep blowing up.

I knew with 100% certainty that I wouldn’t feel safe camping tonight, so I went across the street to book a room. My heart sunk, when I saw the line, and heard the receptionist announce “all full”. With no reception or wifi, I had to get the heck outta Dodge as soon as possible so I could find a secure location to sleep for the night.

I raced over the Visitor’s Center in hopes to quickly get a refund on my site. When I opened the door, it looked like a airport terminal on layover. Long lines of stressed individuals waited to speak with a park ranger. Some couples exchanged heated words, while others whispered quietly in an attempts to provide encouragement. A gentleman came in with a gash down his leg due to flying debris and one couple reported car damage caused by a flying rock hitting their windshield. More road closure announcements were made. The lights flickered on and off ominously, causing the computers to keep resetting. My credit card refund would have to wait.

Hooking up Clarence, the MyPod, took longer than usual despite my harried pace. As I drove away from the park, I noticed a mother running with a crying child towards their vehicle. A group of three ladies linked arms, and then eventually sat down on the ground waiting for the latest gusts to somewhat subside.

I could handle rain, snow, cold, and heat, but my adventurous spirit had met its match with 60 mph bouts of wind.

I drove out of the park a little after 5 pm, slow enough as to not get blown off-road, yet quick enough so I could get to a hotel room before they were all booked.

It appeared that I should have left just a couple minutes earlier.

(to be continued… again)

Death Valley Bust: Part I

The plastic water bottles next to me crinkled as the air pressure increased, reminding me that I was driving down into the lowest place on the continent. The sun was shining, the day was crisp, and I was relieved to be out of the Vegas metropolis.

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The view while driving in (Zabriskie Point)

As I set up camp at -196 feet below sea level, I chit-chatted with my new neighbors. “Supposed to get a little windy tonight – why dontcha’ park it a little closer so our rig can act as a barrier.” I thanked the gentleman for his advice and maneuvered Clarence so that he was in a cozy little nook. Setting off with my adequate water supply, I was eager to begin hiking before the full heat of the day took effect. After all, Death Valley boasts being the hottest, driest, and lowest national park in the country.

I soon found out it was also one of the windiest.

After about a mile and a half into my canyon hike, the wind really started to pick up. I recognized that the towers of rock next to me were acting as a buffering, so I was concerned as to how bad it was back at the parking lot.

The rock walls somewhat blocked the roaring wind

“I’m going to turn around – I’m not liking this wind so much,” I explained to some hikers I had met. At this point, my sunglasses were doing very little to block the grit from getting in my eyes. Tiny debris whipped up and pelted my legs, and I had to give up on wearing a hat, resulting in my hair going every which way.

As I exited the canyon, every step became a struggle. I could feel the dust going into my nose when I breathed, and I started to lose my balance. I fell three times trying to make it back to my car. As quick as I could, I yanked the door open and practically fell inside, bringing a whirlwind of soot with me. I was safe.

For now.

(to be continued)