If someone had told me that I would pack for a two-day trip with an unfamiliar man to a place where mobile phones don’t work and a four-wheel-drive vehicle is required, I might have believed it. But not immediately. The desire to visit Death Valley had been brewing for a long time, and especially resurfaced several times in the last two weeks. So, when the universe suddenly presented me with the opportunity to fulfill this desire, it was hard to say “no.” After all, what could happen to me? Well, worst case, I could stay in Death Valley forever, falling off some cliff. That didn’t scare me.
After discussing the details with Kostya, who was looking for a travel companion for a weekend trip, I bought some food and water for the road, withdrew cash, pulled out all my summer clothes I had missed since moving from Florida, filled up the cat’s food and water bowls, and set off for Belmont, where I would meet Kostya.
The adventure started even at home when I almost forgot my driver’s license at the company where Kostya rented a nearly new white Jeep. Fortunately, I got my license back, and we were on our way. We decided to leave as soon as possible, even at night, to cover as much distance as possible before dawn and reach Death Valley by morning. First, Kostya drove, and I tried to sleep in the back seat, which was very difficult since my toes kept getting stuck between some weird indents in the back doors of the Jeep, my bent knees were uncomfortable, my head hit the other door, and the car vibrated quite a bit. Since I was used to a firm, wide mattress, it wasn’t easy to rest. In the middle of the night, we switched, and although I was desperately sleepy, I drank a coffee boost and a five-hour energy drink, and about an hour or so later, the sleepiness lifted.
I don’t remember much about driving at night. It felt like not too much time had passed, but Kostya insisted that I drove for at least four hours. Soon, it started to get light. The magical sunrise landscape unfolded before us as we crossed the mountains near Ridgecrest. Soon, we switched again, and I managed to sleep a little on the way to the park entrance.
It’s worth noting that the park covers a huge area, around 7,800 square kilometers. It stretches from the southeast to the northwest and mostly occupies territory in California, with a small part in Nevada. I won’t go into too much history here; if you’re interested, you can find a ton of information about this area and the park itself.
Our first stop was in the ghost town of Ballarat, at the foot of the Panamint Mountains. The sight was truly amazing: the town consists of half-destroyed buildings and remnants of destroyed structures peeking out from the grass. Time.
From the ghost town, we headed south. It turns out that Charles Manson once hid nearby. Kostya wanted to see his ranch, but it turned out that the road was closed, so we had to struggle through a narrow mountain trail, weaving between sharp rocks, to at least catch a glimpse of the place from a nearby hill. We managed to do so, and along the way, we marveled at the incredible beauty of the mountains, each of which seemed to have its own unique character. After overcoming all the difficulties and snapping countless photos from some hill, we descended into the valley and returned to the ghost town, from where our path led north, toward the Wild Rose Canyon. The road was pretty rough, and we shook a lot, but we passed by an incredibly beautiful salt lake.
Next, we stopped to see the charcoal kilns, where pots were fired, not by gods…
It was pretty cold there since the kilns are located quite high in the mountains. After running around and taking photos, we headed back to turn onto the Emigrant Canyon Road. The road to the kilns and to Emigrant was very scenic: it wound through the valley, slightly rising and falling, creating small hills. At a pleasant, slow speed, you could feel the sensation of flying as the car descended from such an ascent. Soon, we reached Stovepipe Wells. We spent a bit of time there and didn’t manage to photograph the Eureka dunes in good light before sunset, but we did manage to get a few decent shots.
Soon, it became completely dark, and we had no choice but to exit the park to find a place to sleep. We spent the night in Beatty, Nevada, where I slept for 9 hours. The morning was absolutely magical. Aside from getting a good rest, there was something incredible in the air. Some kind of grace, a lightness, an indescribable feeling. It was as if all my tension had died in Death Valley yesterday, and all my worries and concerns had been left behind. I took a deep breath of the magical beauty of the mountains, sat behind the wheel, and we headed back, photographing along the way…
Our route took us to the visitor center, where we were given a sticker for having paid the entrance fee, and nearby was Zabriskie Point with its yellow mountains.
From there, our task was to reach the dry lake with the moving stones, which was supposed to be our final destination. The lake is truly amazing. On its dry surface, small stones walk around on their own, leaving very distinct tracks behind. The lake itself is surrounded by mountains on almost all sides, and in the middle, there are small dark rocks.
On the way back, we experienced a miracle. First, we witnessed an interesting phenomenon. It was such a funny little whirlwind. At first, when I saw it from a distance, I thought it was dust from some car ahead, but when we got closer, we saw that the dust was swirling on its own above the ground.
On the road to the lake, Kostya was very impressed by a crossroads of teapots, which he eagerly photographed from all sides.
And then, at the very end of our journey through the Valley, but far from the end of our trip, an unusual situation arose: the rear right tire punctured. With a “ps-ps-ps-ps” sound, it deflated very quickly, which puzzled Kostya quite a bit. I remained absolutely calm, telling Kostya that as soon as the situation became critical, help would arrive. I don’t think Kostya was very thrilled, since, judging by the road, no one had passed by since we did. But I had no doubt in my magical powers, and when Kostya realized the tire was completely dead and stopped, a car appeared around the corner, followed by a second one. The most surprising part was that the people in the first car were not just Russian guys; they also lived in the same city as Kostya and had seen his post in the conference about looking for companions for the trip to the valley, but they hadn’t been able to get through to him. I couldn’t have predicted such a twist. With the help of Sergey and Diana, and the American citizen who arrived, we replaced the flat tire and took a farewell photo before parting ways. However, I hope we’ll meet again!
The very last thing we saw was the Ubehebe Crater. By then, it was completely dark, and we drove on. We still had a long journey ahead, about 14 hours back home, which we courageously endured. I even managed to sleep on the way back. Although Kostya was late for work and was pretty sleepy while there, I felt refreshed after a little rest in the car.
Bay Area greeted me with an entirely magical feeling of something new. It was clear that the brain reboot had been successful. “The reward for long wanderings is wisdom,” as one poet said. I am waiting for new adventures, as they are all small parts of one big adventure called “life…”