So here we are, the final leg of our epic Grand Canyon road trip. It’s quite possible, we saved the best for last. And it’s the Death Valley road trip.
We left Flagstaff and headed West, on our way to Death Valley. Our plan was to make for Las Vegas, then north into Death Valley. No Vegas tourist stops, just a quick visit at the Hoover Dam.
It was very different from the last time Heather and I took our own Death Valley road trip. But that was sometime well before 9/11, so the level of paranoia in the States was considerably higher. They seem to be concerned that someone might blow up the dam, so the security there is pretty intense. Just like crossing an international border! Cameras under the vehicles, and searching our luggage. “Are you carrying any firearms?” Uh, no officer, we left our Uzis at home this time.
It was very busy, and you can’t see much after paying an arm and a leg to park. We walked around on the top for a bit, got a drink and decided the rest wasn’t really worth it. Another cool place ruined by over-tourism. But I guess we were contributors to the whole fiasco. So, hypocrite, table for one please!
The Start of the Death Valley Road Trip
We continued into Nevada and the outskirts of Las Vegas. The girls were hoping to see the Strip, but I wanted to be nowhere near it. We got off the freeway to grab some groceries. All we were stopping for was to stock up on supplies, since there’s not a lot of choice in Death Valley. You know, the usual road trip essentials. Water. Beer. More water. Even more water. And snacks. Did I mention water?
The weather was sunny and warm, a pleasant change from the cool weather of Flagstaff and the high desert of Arizona. We were all pretty excited about getting to Death Valley.
Now, I need to talk about the scenery and the unique landscape of this area between Vegas and Death Valley, because holy crap, it’s something else.
We took Highway 160 out through Pahrump (winner of the “America’s Most Charmingly Named Town” award), then onto Highway 372 as it crossed into California. The landscape starts to shift almost immediately once you leave the Vegas sprawl behind. The Mojave Desert opens up around you in these long, sweeping vistas that just go on forever. Mountains in the distance, all purple and hazy in the afternoon light. Scrub brush and Joshua trees dotting the landscape like nature’s weird sculptures.
The Beauty of the Desert
And the colours! The rocks shift from browns to reds to these almost pink hues, depending on how the sun hits them. It’s this big, empty, beautiful expanse that makes you feel both incredibly small and weirdly at peace. There’s something about mile after mile of open desert road, with nothing but sagebrush and sky, that just clears your head. Or maybe that’s just me being dramatic. I do love me a good desert…But honestly, the drive itself is half the experience.
I think Jana and Beth-Rose were pretty impressed. They even let me play a few songs from my playlist! See, apparently the desert has magical powers. Who knew?
We arrived in California and crossed into Death Valley. Everyone was getting excited. We stopped at the parking lot for the Zabriskie Point viewpoint and trailhead, but we were anxious to get to our campsite and get set up.
Setting Up Camp
Got to the campground at Furnace Creek and set up camp. Our site was surrounded on three sides by some mesquite trees and tamarisk. There were sites next to us, but not really visible. So there was pretty decent privacy. Perfect for a family of introverts who like people but also like pretending people don’t exist.
Once set up, we headed to the Visitor Centre to check it out. I’ve been here several times over the last 30 years, but each time the visitor centre is different. They have some great displays about the geography, climate, and human history of the area. See how educational this blog is? Learning while being entertained! You’re welcome.
And so we settled into a little routine for the next three days. I would have loved to have stayed longer. Deserts are one of my happy places, and Death Valley is one of my favourites.
The weather was very warm. I think the first day it was in the high 30s Celsius, but that was okay. Because Furnace Creek has a swimming pool! Purchase a pass and you’re good for all day. I think the girls were in heaven. Lovely, warm water, next to swaying palm trees, and take your pick of sitting in the sun or the shade. Meanwhile, I’m thinking, “We drove all this way to hang out at a pool?” I was not about to complain. It’s also a nice place to sit and have a beer…
Badwater Road Adventure
Our first full day was pretty busy. We explored around the village for a bit, then took the drive out on Badwater Road. The main road south of Furnace Creek, it takes visitors past numerous trails, the Artists Drive and Artists Palette, the Devil’s Golf Course, and Badwater Basin; the lowest elevation in the Western Hemisphere.
No pressure, but we were literally at the bottom of the continent. Some 284 feet below sea level! When you hit rock (or salt) bottom, there’s nowhere to go but up from here
Part of the plans for this epic road trip had Beth-Rose doing some dance photos in Death Valley. We had originally planned to do some at the Grand Canyon, but I think she decided it was maybe too cold. But she wanted to get some dance poses at Badwater. She even brought her ballet point shoes with her! Because of course you bring point shoes to the lowest, hottest place in North America. That’s completely normal teenage behaviour, right?
And so that’s what we did. The morning was already hot by the time we parked at the trailhead. We walked out onto the blindingly white salt flats for about a quarter mile, well past the most intrepid tourists, so we had the basin pretty much to ourselves. And I proceeded to shoot a few hundred photos. Dance poses, jumps, spins…you haven’t lived until you Jeté across a blistering hot salt flat.
It was fun, but warm. Did I say warm? I meant HOT. And that’s okay, because I love the desert heat. There’s something about standing in a giant frying pan that just makes you feel alive. Or maybe that’s just sunstroke talking.
Devil’s Golf Course
After that, we worked our way back toward Furnace Creek, stopping at the Devil’s Golf Course, where we took a few more shots. We even had a golf ball to use in some of the photos.
Now, if you’ve never been to the Devil’s Golf Course, let me paint you a picture. Imagine someone took the entire floor of Death Valley and ran it through a meat grinder, then left it out in the sun for a few million years. The result is this absolutely bonkers landscape of jagged salt crystals and rock formations that look like something straight out of a sci-fi movie.
The place got its name from a 1934 National Park Service guidebook that said “only the devil could play golf” on such rough terrain. And they weren’t kidding. These aren’t your gentle, rolling fairways. These are sharp, spiky salt crystals that jut out of the ground like nature’s version of a medieval torture device.
The formations are actually the remnants of ancient Lake Manly, which once covered the entire valley. When the lake evaporated (thanks, climate change of the Ice Age variety), it left behind all these mineral deposits. Now they sit here, expanding and contracting in the heat, literally making popping and pinging sounds as billions of tiny salt crystals burst apart. It’s weirdly mesmerizing, like listening to the world’s slowest, crunchiest Rice Krispies.
If you stand there quietly, you can actually hear the desert working. Pop. Ping. Crack. It’s the sound of geology happening in real time, which is both cool and slightly unnerving. Like, “Hello, I’m standing on an active geological feature that’s slowly destroying itself.” Good times!
Natural Bridge
From there, just a couple of minutes farther up the road, we stopped at the Natural Bridge. A short hike from the parking lot takes us up the canyon as far as the natural bridge and beyond. The girls sputtered out halfway up, so Heather and I trudged on, enjoying the shade provided as we walked under the rocky arch. I so relish the image of Beth-Rose and Jana, too tired to carry on, standing and watching as the old folks continue on, against all odds, braving the scorching desert heat. Such princesses…
Artists Palette
We drove the Artists Drive, stopping at the Artists Palette. If the Devil’s Golf Course looked like a sci-fi movie, Artists Palette looked like someone gave Mother Nature a box of crayons and said, “Go nuts.” The hillside is splashed with colours you wouldn’t expect rocks to have. Reds, pinks, yellows, purples, greens, all swirled together like some kind of geological finger painting.
The colours come from different minerals oxidizing in this harsh environment. Iron compounds create the reds, pinks, and yellows. Manganese gives you those purple and lavender hues. And the green comes from decomposed volcanic tuff and mica. It’s like a grade 9 chemistry experiment that’s been running for millions of years, and the result is this absolutely stunning rainbow of rock. The whole thing is evidence of Death Valley’s violent volcanic past, when the area was basically exploding left and right about 5 million years ago.
We visited in the early afternoon, so it wasn’t really the best time to catch the view. It’s the late day sun hitting the rocks just right that really makes all those colours pop. But they still impressed.
I didn’t take a lot of photos, only because I’ve been to this spot many times before, and I already have a few hundred shots of the same rocks. How many photos of rocks do I really need in the cloud?
Back to the Pool
Then finally back to Furnace Creek, where everyone was looking forward to finishing the day with a refreshing swim in the pool. Because apparently that’s what you do in Death Valley. Drive hundreds of miles to see incredible geological wonders, then spend half your time in a swimming pool. But honestly? It was pretty great. There’s something to be said for floating in cool water while surrounded by desert heat and palm trees. It’s like a little oasis of civilization in the middle of nowhere.
The evening brought out several million stars, with no moon. I had planned to drive out to Badwater Basin to get some Milky Way photos, but as always, by the time dinner is done and we’re relaxed around the fire, I have no desire to go anywhere. So I was happy enough to take in the stunning night sky from the comfort of my camp chair, with a cold beer in hand. Tough life! Sometimes the best photographs are the ones you don’t take because you’re too busy actually experiencing the moment. At least that’s what I tell myself to justify my laziness.
Day Two: Village and Saloon
Next day the girls went for a walk to the Village, and we puttered around a bit before joining them. We stopped in at the general store and had cold drinks, then I took a walk around to the old saloon. I remember many years before, during an earlier Death Valley road trip, playing pool with my good friend Steve, listening to the park rangers telling stories at the rustic bar. That old saloon was long gone, replaced by another, fancy schmancy gin joint, filled with old west memorabilia, and copper tiles on the ceiling.
This one is called “The Last Kind Words Saloon”. It’s part of the whole renovation they did at the Ranch at Death Valley, and they really went all out. Wanted posters on the walls, antique firearms, taxidermied animals staring down at you while you eat your steak. The whole “bringing the West of old to Death Valley” vibe. It’s like a movie set, honestly. Very polished. Very not the rustic dive bar I remembered from decades ago.
The name itself is kind of ominous, right? “Last Kind Words.” Makes you wonder what happened after those last kind words were spoken. A shootout? A duel? Someone getting thrown out into the desert? It’s actually named for a Larry McMurtry novel about Wyatt Earp and Doc Holiday, so maybe there was a shootout. But it fits the Old West theme they’re going for, so I’ll give them that. It sounds way cooler than “Bob’s Steakhouse”.
As usual, I digress…
Finally it was back to the pool for the rest of the day. This would be our last full day, so the girls wanted to do nothing more than swim and sunbathe. I mean, we could have gone on another epic hike, or explored more of the park’s incredible geology, but nope. Pool it is. And you know what? I didn’t fight it. Pick your battles, as they say.
Mesquite Flats Sand Dunes
Finally dinner at the campsite, then headed out to Mesquite Flats to explore the sand dunes. A great way to spend the last of the daylight, tramping the golden dunes and getting sand blown in our faces. Perfect.
Allow me me indulge my inner tour guide for just a moment. These aren’t you run-of-the-mill sand dunes. They’re not just random piles of sand. No these dunes are special. They’re the result of thousands of years of erosion from the Cottonwood Mountains to the north. Little bits of quartz and feldspar get broken down by wind and weather, turned into sand grains, and then carried by the wind until they hit the mountains on the south side of the valley. Boom. Trapped. Over time, the sand piles up into these beautiful, undulating dunes that cover about 14 miles across the valley floor.
The tallest dune, called Star Dune (because of course it is), rises about 100 feet above the desert floor. It’s called a star dune because the winds hit it from multiple directions, creating this complex pattern of ridges and valleys that converge at the peak. Unlike a lot of sand dunes that just move and shift constantly, Star Dune stays relatively put because the winds balance each other out. It’s like a standoff, but with air currents.
The mesquite trees that give the dunes their name have this crazy ability to keep growing even as the sand tries to bury them. They twist and contort and push upwards, and you’ll see these leafless brown trunks sticking out of the sand where the dunes have shifted and exposed them. The trees seem to be fighting back against the desert. And weirdly enough, they’re winning.
Sand Dunes at Sunset
There’s something magical about sand dunes at sunset. The light hits them just right, creating these incredible shadows and highlights that make the whole landscape look like it’s glowing. Plus, climbing up and sliding down giant piles of sand never gets old, no matter how old you are. We’re all just big kids at heart. And yes, we got sand everywhere. In our shoes, our hair, our pockets, probably places sand has no business being. Worth it.
Saying Goodbye and Hello to Rhyolite
We woke the next day and packed up the camp. I was not wanting to leave. I don’t think anyone was. There’s something about Death Valley that gets under your skin. Maybe it’s the stark beauty, or the sense of being in a place that’s completely unlike anywhere else. Or maybe it’s just the pool. Probably the pool.
So we said goodbye to one of the coolest places on earth and headed north, stopping in the ghost town of Rhyolite, Nevada. Fascinating place that once held around 10,000 residents at its peak. Let that sink in for a minute. Ten. Thousand. People. Living in the middle of the desert. In 1907-1908.
The whole thing started in 1904 when a couple of prospectors named Frank “Shorty” Harris and Ernest Cross discovered high-grade gold ore in the nearby Bullfrog Hills. They named their claim the “Bullfrog” because the green rock with chunks of yellow metal looked like the back of a frog.
Within months, thousands of people flooded into the area. What started as a two-tent mining camp exploded into a full-blown city with electric lights, running water, telephones, newspapers, a hospital, a school, an opera house, and even a stock exchange. Steel magnate Charles Schwab bought the Montgomery-Shoshone Mine in 1906 and invested heavily in infrastructure. For a brief moment, Rhyolite was living large. The future looked bright. What could possibly go wrong?
End of a Short Era
Everything, as it turns out. The financial panic of 1907 hit hard. By 1910, the population had dropped to just 675. The mines closed. The banks closed. The newspapers shut down. By 1920, only 14 people remained. And by 1924, Rhyolite was completely abandoned. From nothing to 10,000 to nothing again in just 20 years. That’s one hell of a boom and bust cycle.
Today, you can walk among the ruins and imagine what it must have been like when the town was alive. The concrete shells of old buildings still stand, including the famous Cook Bank Building and the Tom Kelly Bottle House, which was built entirely out of 50,000 beer, whiskey, and medicine bottles. Because when you’re in the middle of the desert and wood is scarce, you use what you’ve got. And apparently, what they had was a lot of empty bottles. Ten thousand people, all heavy drinkers?
The whole place has this eerie, haunting quality. You walk down what used to be Main Street, past the remnants of stores and saloons and homes, and you can’t help but wonder about the people who lived here. What were their dreams? Their hopes? Did they know it would all come crashing down so quickly? Or did they genuinely believe they were building something that would last?
Anyway… This has gotten a bit philosophical for a road trip post. But that’s what ghost towns do to you. They make you think about time and change and the impermanence of everything.
Home Sweet Home
Finally the long drive home, and arrived at the border, where we were not detained, tasered, or otherwise harassed. The friendly border agent asked where we had been, and if we had a good time. Ahhh, Canada! We were home.
And what a trip it was. The Grand Canyon. Williams. Sedona. Death Valley. Ghost towns and sand dunes and salt flats and icy trails and ancient volcanic rock formations. Swimming pools and campfires and stars by the million. Beth-Rose dancing on the salt flats in her point shoes. Golden sunsets and even more golden memories.
Would I do it again? Absolutely. Would I change anything? Yes. A little later in the spring for Grand Canyon. Maybe spend a bit less time at the pool and a bit more time exploring. Maybe.
But then again, seeing my family happy and relaxed is pretty much the whole point of these trips. So maybe it was perfect exactly as it was.
But for now, I’ll just be sitting here at home, dreaming of desert heat and star-filled skies, and pondering our next road trip.
