Death Valley, Golden Canyon

Sunday morning greeted us with sunshine, but it was still quite cool in Beatty. Our plan was to stop at the visitor centre in Furnace Creek, choose a hike from a brochure we'd pick up there, and leave Death Valley National Park on Hwy.178 with a stop at Badwater, the lowest point. From there we'd bypass Las Vegas and spend the night in Boulder City.

Thanks to the information we received at the Beatty saloon the night before we knew to turn off onto the shortcut to Furnace Creek. Here, Johann had been told, would be a prime area for seeing the desert in bloom. It started slowly, with a few fragile plants here and there on the rocky surface, in itself a seemingly impossible medium to foster any plant life. The narrow road descended gently toward the valley which was bordered by snow capped peaks in the distance. Such opposites! The lowest point of Death Valley – the whole north American continent – is 85m below sea level, Telescope Peak, the highest point in the Paramint Mountains bordering the valley, 3,367m high. 

The few blossoms, scattered as they seemed at first, nevertheless melded into a yellow carpet in the distance, and soon we found that the density of blooming plants increased considerably along the roadside. 

Yellow desert evening primroses, desert gold, desert yellow cup, blue phacelia, white desert chicory and, my favourite, desert star all contributed to this amazing tapestry, aided by sturdy creosote bushes with their shiny leaves. Stirred by the breeze they were in perpetual motion, and it wasn't easy to take close-up photos. Getting down on my knees for a closer look I almost knelt on a huge caterpillar and soon realized that the whole area was crawling with them: black, with yellow and white horizontal stripes, they were almost as long as my finger and had a small 'horn' at their back end. These were, as I since have found out, the caterpillars of the white striped sphinx moth, voracious in their appetite for the feast of flowers spread out for them by Mother Nature.

 

The visitor centre was very busy, probably even more than usual at this time of year because it was the weekend, and we didn't linger longer than necessary. The ranger Johann talked to suggested we might want to hike Golden Canyon, coming back via Gower Gulch, about four miles in length.

For old times sake we made a loop through Texas Spring campground where we had stayed the second night last year. Again I felt with a slight pang of regret how different it is to experience an area without camping right on site. Back on the road a sign warned of a road closure on Hwy.178 after about 40 miles. This meant we had to choose an alternate route out of the park, and we decided to forego the stop at Badwater Point because we'd have to turn around there, and it likely would be very crowded anyway. We'd take Hwy.190 east instead. 

The turnoff to Golden Canyon is only a few miles south of Furnace Creek. Last year we had hiked only partway in, somehow missing the turnoff to Red Cathedral with its imposing red rock walls. We hadn't pursued it then since we also wanted to see Natural Bridge canyon. 

This time we again didn't end at Red Cathedral and soon found the narrow trail winding its way up the dusty yellow flank of the mountain towards Gower Gulch. It was a steep climb for a while, but the views we had from the highest point were ample reward. The colours, from chalk white over palest yellow to dark red and brown were beautifully offset by the blue and white dappled sky.

 

Looking back at the trail we hiked up on. The two small dark dots on the right are people

 Coming down through almost mogul like little hills reminded me a bit of our hike in Bryce Canyon three years ago, although this gulch lacked the fairy-tale spires of that beautiful park.

Close to the bottom another trail branched off to the left to Zabriskie Point. Some hikers started there and ended at the Golden Canyon parking lot, but to do that one needed a second vehicle to transfer back to the point. 

The trail now descended slowly through narrowing canyon walls. A couple of short sections of sliprock didn't prove to be a problem, and after a little over three miles we arrived at the mouth of the canyon with a nice view of the valley below. 

The last mile or so dragged on a bit: the trail hugged the side of the mountain before ending at Golden Valley parking lot, where we had left our vehicle.

Our hope to reach Boulder City early was quickly dashed when traffic slowed down and soon came to a complete standstill before we were even close to the park border. A fatal traffic accident turned out to be the cause of this, and a long line of vehicles waited ahead of us already. It might be up to an hour and a half until we could move on, we were told, so we pulled out to the side and ate our lunch, sitting on some big rocks. It wasn't a bad place to wait at all, surrounded by wildflowers and rocky walls, but it made me sad to think that a holiday or weekend trip had gone so horribly wrong for a person or a family.

In the end traffic started to flow again much sooner than expected. Still, by the time we reached Boulder City and had found an acceptable motel (the same as last year in the end, after searching for an alternative for a while) it was too late to go looking for the herd of mountain sheep in Hemenway Park at the edge of town. Last year we had come there around sundown upon the recommendation of a sales clerk at the supermarket, but what was supposed to be a regular occurrence didn't happen that night: the sheep, coming down the mountain to feed on the lush green grass of the park, had stayed away that night, and now, too, we had missed the opportunity. We weren't too upset, however: it had been a long day, and the next day was going to be a highlight Johann and I had been looking forward to from the beginning.