Hike to Bighorn Gorge off of Death Valley Wash, Death Valley, CA

An Alluvial Fan is a place where for thousands of years rain has washed rocks down from the hills and mountains above it.  Since it rains so infrequently, and has heavy rains incredibly infrequently, the scope of time it takes to create some of the monstrously large fans in Death Valley is difficult to comprehend.

We noticed that on one side of Scotty’s Castle road was an alluvial fan that seemed to end high up on the hills at the beginning of a canyon.  We could only see a hint of a canyon, but that was enough for us to want to explore it.

In the photo below one can see the Alluvial fan toward the left, and then in the exact middle the entrance to the canyon that goes off to the left (photo after this one shows the canyon highlighted).  The fan itself is a lighter color than the surrounding area, indicating a different type of rock that is in it.  

 

With our newly-discovered powers of desert distance estimation, we thought it was about a mile from the road to the bottom of the fan, and then about a mile and a half from the bottom of the fan to the canyon entrance.  Then we’d walk a mile or so into the canyon and end up with a cool little 7-mile hike.

Actual distance:

Road to bottom of fan:  1 ½ miles

Bottom of Alluvial fan to canyon:  3 miles

Total Hike:  9 ¼ miles

We are learning that estimating distances in the desert is tricky.  Interestingly, we are getting real good at estimating our elevation gain for our hikes.  At the end of our hikes we both give our independent guesses about gain, and then compare those with our GPS.  We both guessed 1500 feet today and were right on the button. 

Because we had to hike almost 4 ¼ miles just to get to the mouth of the canyon we only went a bit of a ways into it—kind of disappointing after all of the work to get there, but we didn’t want to hike 10 or 11 miles on that rocky surface.  Plus, our friends Susan and Laurence were on their way to Death Valley to meet us that afternoon we went wanted to get back to greet them upon their arrival.

It was also a hard hike.  As mentioned, the total elevation gain for the day was 1500 feet, 1200 feet of that in the alluvial fan where the surface is nothing but rocks.  With every step your ankles turn and twist or slide.  Trekking poles are a must, as they keep you ankles and knees from twisting and turning. 

Happily for me, the more I do of these hikes that are hard on my feet and ankles the stronger they seem to get.  Dr. Byron Hutchinson in Burien, WA, who repaired my foot, worked a miracle for me.  I am so grateful.  Here is a shot of what happens with your feet and ankles for 9 ¼ miles on these surfaces.  This activity puts a lot of stress on all of those small bones, ligaments, and tendons.

 

In this photo you can see the surface for the 1 ¼ mile hike across the desert to the bottom of the fan.  It was rocky, with many small washes that had to be entered and exited, with effort.  It is slow going.  You rarely can see the washes until you are right upon them.  Then you have to decide whether to try to walk around them, up through them for awhile (only for awhile because they rarely go to where you are going), or cross them by going into and then out of them. 

 

Here is Vicky at the wash at the beginning of the Alluvial Fan.  At this time we thought we had 1 ½ miles to the canyon, when in actuality we had twice that distance to hike.

The walls/borders of the fan that can be seen in the first photo on this entry as a dark frame are actually about 20 feet high in many areas.  The first photo below has one highlighted, and then the second shows me walking next to it.  

 

You can see from this and the next photo that the walking surface is actually nothing but rocks.  The rocks are just the right size to be difficult to walk on—too large to make a smooth surface and too small to stay in place when you step on them.  Tough going, especially up 1200 feet in 3 miles.

 

 This was interesting--the trunk of a tree in the middle of this huge area of large gravel.  How far did it travel over these years, where did it originate?  We haven’t seen any trees this size growing in places where the wind and rain could wash it here.  And it was the only thing this size we saw—not even smaller branches that could suggest there were others.

The canyon itself was beautiful, and wild.  And dotted with caves that were filled with Mountain Lions that had their hungry eyes on us.  I know I am probably making this last part up, but it is where I’d live if I were a Mountain Lion.   And I would think we would make a delicious dinner. 

 

 

On our way back down we saw hawks circling high over us. We wondered if they knew something we didn’t, and that maybe my Mountain Lion paranoia wasn’t too far off.

In the distance we could see our truck by the side of the road.  We were tired, and I sort of wished it was our horse instead and we could just whistle for it to come to us.  Next time we get a truck we are going to pay extra to get this feature.

A couple of days later we bought a map of the area and saw that the place we went to was called Bighorn Gorge.  We didn't know that at the time--we thought we had discovered it ourselves!  Sometime we will go back when we have more time to explore it.

Cycling in Death Valley, CA

Last year we did a 50 mile bike ride in Death Valley.  We learned a lot--like, don’t ever do that again. 

We rode 25 miles with about 2400 elevation gain up Death Valley, in Death Valley heat, in the beast of the afternoon. 

This year, we were smarter.  I bought bike mounts for the pickup so that we could drive down into the valley in the morning.  With this method our large elevation gain was in the “cool” of the mornings.  Then, when it warmed up, we were riding mostly downhill.  And when we got half-way done with the ride, we were at our camper, with food and cool water, instead of being in the desert.

Worked!

Did one ride, felt good. 

For the second ride we made a further adjustment—got up 1 ½ hours earlier.  We left the campground at 6:00, so we could start riding at first light when we were 20 miles down the valley.

 

 

The first time we tried our new plan the weather did not cooperate.  Rode only 5 miles up the Valley, turned around, and rode down to the truck and did a hike instead.  Why?  30 mph winds in our faces.  And we weren’t at the worst of our climb yet.  We were struggling to keep the bikes at 5 mph on flats!  We knew we could pound our way through this gale on the miles of fairly steep inclines, but the effects would be felt on our knees, which wasn’t wise.  It would also take forever, and not be safe because we couldn’t hear cars coming so I could watch to make sure they pulled over for us. 

Besides, this is supposed to be fun, and it wasn’t. Vicky took a photo of me showing the strength of the wind.  

Since we couldn’t bike ride that day, we decided to hike.  Vicky had brought some hiking clothes, but I hadn’t.  So I hiked up Titus Canyon in my biking clothes, looking like an idiot.

 

And it just so happened that it was “Let’s all go hiking! Day” in Titus Canyon.  Dozens of hikers.  Last year we did this hike and ran into perhaps two or three.

One said:  “lose your bike?”   

Our third ride was more successful.  Lots of fun.  

 

 

The ride has 2900 foot elevation gain in 40 miles.  2300 of it on the way up, so we coasted a lot the last hour.  Wheeeee!

Death Valley's Internet Cafe

Communicating with the world in Death Valley?

In a nutshell:  fuggetaboutit.  There isn’t a signal.

Well, there is a small signal at one small spot in the whole of Death Valley.  We accidentally found it while driving, and then found at Stovepipe Wells that people drive there to get a signal.

One small spot.  We can get enough cell reception for texts and, barely, email reception, although that was iffy.

And it is “only” 35 miles from our campsite which, given the mileage of our truck, means it costs us about $25 to check for messages.

Here we are, at Death Valley’s internet café, trying to contact people who have emailed or texted us.  One is really off the grid here--maybe the last place on earth one can say that.

Valley behind Graybill Springs: Death Valley CA

A few days ago we did one of our more memorable hikes—a type of hike one can do in a place like Death Valley.  We stopped by the side of the road because we saw something interesting looking in the hills, and went there.  We found a natural spring of some type, with a large stand of Mesquite and other bushes. 

The water was unusual in that, first of all it was water.  Here, in Death Valley. Second, it just seemed to appear in a wash and then disappear a few hundred feet later in the same wash.  Here is a photo of where it just disappears.  

I am looking at a spot up the wash a bit where it probably appears.  We could hear it running standing there, but the foliage was too dense to find where the spring appeared.  It was not only too dense, but had wicked stickers.  In fact, we found only one place where we could get through the wash to the upper side—it was a joint effort to hold branches back so one person at a time could ease through.

 

On the other side of the stream/spring we headed up the mountain. 

When we got to the top of the hill/mountain, we could see a big valley on the other side.  We thought it would be fun to take a different wash/canyon to this valley.

So today that’s where we went.

Our first attempt was up the same way we went the last time.  We thought that we could take a different canyon to the other side.  However, we were wrong.  What we found ourselves doing was climbing a very steep hill.  We knew that just over the hill was our valley, although it would be a steep descent to it.

We were about 30 feet from the top when we decided to invoke the safety rule and come back down.  At that point the route was steep, and the rocks were not imbedded into the soil—instead they were loose and gave way.  We would not have hurt ourselves seriously with a fall, but could have twisted an ankle or something that would have made the 1 ½ mile descent difficult and painful.  

So here I am, sitting at the place where we decided to stop.  It was tantalizing to try to make it a few more feet, but not wise. 

That’s OK.We carefully went back down.  For a few feet where the footing was particularly slippery, I just slide down on my good old REI pants. 

We got into the truck, drove a mile up the road, and tried a different wash into a canyon that we thought would lead to the valley we saw a few days prior.

 

This time we were successful.  It was a beautiful and large valley, not observable from the road, and we were on the other side of the big hill we climbed a few days ago and the hill we almost climbed today.  

For all three hikes—the one a few days ago and the two today, we saw no other footprints.  It is unlikely that nobody has ever been where we went, but footprints last a long time in the desert. 

We will come back next year and now that we know how to get to this valley, we will explore it from one end to the other. 

Graybill Springs and hike to the top of the hill: Death Valley, CA

-->

Incredible.

I run out of superlatives to describe some of our hikes.   I don’t think we have failed to enjoy any of them, as they are all different from each other in some, or many, ways.  But every once in awhile we do one that is spectacular, and that was today. 

We have been in Death Valley for four days now.  Our first day we did a nice little hike behind our campsite, up a hill, and down into a wash which we followed up for a mile.

On our second day we did a 40-mile bike ride through the valley.  It was hotter than blazes, with almost 2100 foot elevation gain in the first 24 miles.  But this is what we were expecting because we are in the initial stages of training for the STP (Seattle to Portland bike ride) in July with Jules. 

Our third day we did the Fall Canyon hike, a nice 8-mile (round trip) walk up a wash through a canyon.  We went as far as the 20-foot dry fall (dry waterfall, essentially).  Apparently there is a way one can climb around the dry fall, although every way we visualized was treacherous.  We talked to several hikers who were familiar with the canyon who also said they wouldn’t try it.

Today we got up early (to catch the early morning cooler weather) and drove down the valley until we saw something we wanted to hike to.  No trail.  “How about there?”  “Or maybe over there?”  Hey, look at that!”

We saw a canyon that seemed to have more Mesquite bushes than others, and wondered why. 

So off we went, to explore the Mesquite bushes, and to see if we could make it to the top of the first line of hills.  We didn’t think it possible, but we headed off to try.

We enjoy these off-trail, back-country hikes.  We see no footprints indicating that others have been here before us.  If they have been, it may have been decades. 

So, we parked by the road and off we went.

About ½ mile later we discovered why there were more Mesquite bushes than usual—a spring!  Running water!  Right here in Death Valley, in all of this heat and dryness, was running water.  And we found it. 

Here is a photo of Graybill Springs:

Interestingly, the small stream (usually about a foot in width) was only running for about 100 feet.  The water appeared somewhere in the wash, and then disappeared into it as mysteriously as it began.  Probably originated miles away, running underground until some weird geological twist made it appear at the surface at this spot.  The entire wash above the running water was dry as a bone. 

We decided to follow this canyon up past the spring.  We just kept going up and up, mostly boulder scrambling, until we reached a slot canyon.  These are so rare, and always fun when they are found.  The only worry was that we may have inadvertently cornered a creature because there were certainly going to be all manner of them around a water source.  

After walking up the slot canyon for awhile we came to a dry fall, about 6 feet high.  We talked about what to do—usually this means the end of where we can go. 

Vicky volunteered to scramble up it, and see what was around the bend.  What she saw was more wash/boulders that we could climb, so we pushed on ahead.

The climbing got steeper and steeper, until we reached a point where we thought we might be able to hike/climb to the top of one of the hills. So we left the comfort (ha ha) of the steep wash and climbed the hill. 

Slowly, and carefully.  It was fairly steep, so a fall was certainly possible.  But a fall that would skin and scrape us, not damage us, and that is our criteria—we do nothing dangerous.  We had to be mindful of every step that a rock we stepped on didn’t give way.  We kept climbing, slowly, until we reached the top of the first line of hills. 

Here I am beginning the climb:

 

 

Here is where maybe my favorite ever photo of Vicky hiking I have taken (I know it was the first photo on this blog entry, but it deserves to be here twice).  Below her can be seen the Mesquite bushes where Graybill Springs were.  

If anyone ever wonders why we do the things we do, this photo explains it.  Who gets to have this type of experience in her 60s? 

The hill/mountain was 900 feet of elevation climb.  And when we got to the top we could see far down into the valley.

On the other side of the hill was another valley, large, with a large wash through it.  Sometime, we will follow the wash there, and see where it leads. 

We climbed down.  Here is a photo of me with the cairn Vicky built celebrating our climb.

 

Back at the dry fall—Vicky climbing down:

 

On the way down we passed by what appeared to be some type of grass—again unusual in Death Valley in our experience.  The small stand was at the site of the spring we had seen earlier. The wind blowing through it made music!  We tried a recording, and this is the best we could get.  It was magical.  Right in the middle of Death Valley, in a wash halfway up a mountain, we were hearing music.  

At the bottom, back to our pickup.  The hill we climbed is the one directly above the front of the hood (the one at the top).

 

What a day. This is the definition of adventure.

We leave Joshua Tree tomorrow

We have had a wonderful stay here.  We have hiked over 100 miles at this park this year.....unless one counts the trips to the bathroom.  This morning Vicky wore the GPS for a trip to the bathroom.  It is .25+ mile, round trip (8 foot elevation gain).

Figuring conservatively on two trips per day, that makes it 7 miles in our two weeks at White Tank Campground. 

That's like another hike!

So do we say we have hiked 101 miles or 108?  You decide.  



We took the photo that we have used on the blog almost a year ago at Joshua Tree National Park, in the same spot in the campground we have this year.  We decided to take a new photo and retire the old one, but are including it here for sentimental reasons.  It shows our old Chinook camper that we had such a great time in.

Our remaining mystery is what has happened to my underwear.  Do you lose underwear?

I have lost 6 pair on this road trip.  We cannot figure.  Is there a thief following us around?  We can see maybe leaving one in a shower, but even that seems remote.  We have dug through everything.  Does someone steal them when they are left out to dry after we (ha ha "we"......Vicky) washes them?

My theory is that they have run off because they are humiliated.  Vicky keeps referring to them as "undies" and I try to explain that "undies" is not a boy's term.  They are "underwear."

Three weeks ago we had grandson Soren over to spend the night, and Vicky asked him where his "undies" were.  He asked, simply, "Do you mean my underwear?"  I want to announce to everyone that three weeks later I  have totally forgotten this incident and never bring it up with Vicky. 

Twin Tanks: We aren't pitiful after all: We find them both!

Last year we found one of the tanks, but couldn't find the second one.  This year we were determined to find both, and not leave Joshua Tree with one of our recurring failures. 

So off we went:

We easily located the first one, as it is under the crystal palace that sits high in the desert. 

And then we hunted around in the general direction the hiking book informed us the second one was. 

 



Eventually we split up to cover more territory, and in a small canyon I looked up and there it was!

Well, no wonder it is hard to find.  It's about the size of a border around a small flower garden.  Kind of anticlimactic.

But we ended on a success!  Yeah for us!

Ruby Lee Mill: We are pitifully in the wrong place

I think the reason Moses spent so much time in the desert is because he had someone like us guiding him. 

Once again we head out with our trusty hiking book, GPS, and map, and don’t end up even close to where we thought we were. 

But,  our new word for today is “borrow” as in “borrow pit,” as in what in the heck is it because we are supposed to know because we are supposed to hike ¼ mile to it, and then follow green stakes in the ground at that point which head us toward the .

How can we find the green stakes when we don’t know what a borrow pit is?  I know that seems like an excuse, but it worked for Moses.  I'll bet he didn't know what a borrow pit was either. 

About ¼ mile from the Backcountry board we found a 3 foot indentation about 10 yards in diameter.  A “Pit?”  Didn’t seem like much of a pit, but it was the right distance away.  So we followed a well worn trail which quickly led into a canyon wash.  We were pretty sure this was another hike—the Porcupine wash. 

So we back tracked and headed off in the direction we thought we were to go to find the old mining road trail.  After going the right distance, we though, we entered a different canyon.  

The hike was fun, actually, in that about two miles from the Backcountry board we exited the canyon into a huge desert valley between high hills.  We walked this for another mile, and realized that our goal, the Ruby Mill Site, was probably at least two miles away and not anywhere close to where we could get to.

But luckily for those of us who suck at trail finding, I have my little walking crumb-dropping man on my GPS who faultlessly got us back to our so-called borrow pit and car.  If Moses would have had my GPS and route finding skills he might not have found Israel any sooner, but he could have made it back to Egypt pretty easily.

Here is the map at the trail head:

And here is where we went.  Sheesh....we are hopeless.

  

Addendum:  Borrow Pit:

borrow pit  

Web definitions

 

a pit created to provide earth that can be used as fill at another site.