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

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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.