Tuesday, December 31, 2013

Death Valley National Park

Like Monument Valley, Death Valley was one of the places I had hoped to hit this summer that I didn't quite make it to. When I would have passed through in early July, day time temperatures there were hovering between 120 and 130 Fahrenheit, just a few degrees shy of the highest land temperature ever recorded on earth. I didn't want to put my car through that.

The stark, tree-less expanse is the hottest place in the world and the driest and lowest place in the Western Hemisphere. The deep basin between the Panamint Range to the west and the Grapevine, Funeral, and Black Mountains to the east is formed by tectonic plates inching apart millennia after millennia. Even though erosion from the mountains is filling in the basin (sediments accumulated in the valley are already over 9,000 feet deep), the valley is sinking faster than its rising.

I spent Saturday night in North Las Vegas, then began the two hour drive to the east entrance of Death Valley National Park before dawn Sunday morning. Once in the park, I started my visit by taking in panoramas of the valley from Dantes View, a dizzying 5,000 feet above Badwater Basin. Across Death Valley, the moon hung directly overhead 11,049-foot Telescope Peak, the highest point in the park.

Next, I continued on to famed Zabriskie Point, where the rolling, creviced earth is streaked in dusky browns and sulfuric yellows. The swaths of color are from minerals deposited in the soil. Then it was on to the Furnace Creek Visitors Center where I asked a ranger to recommend an off-the-beaten-trail hike. She suggested Sidewinder Canyon, which I traversed later that afternoon.

Turning south onto Badwater Road leaving the visitor center, I stopped at some of the valley's most iconic attractions in order of the road: Golden Canyon, Artists Palette, Devils Golf Course, Natural Bridge, and Badwater Basin. At Badwater Basin--the lowest point in North America at 282 feet below sea level--I wandered into the salt flats until I was farther out in the valley than any other person there.

I ended my day in Death Valley by taking the park ranger's advice and spending a few hours hiking Sidewinder Canyon and its three off-shooting slot canyons, then making a brief stop at the ruins of Ashford Mill. Despite the morbid name, Death Valley for me was thoroughly life-affirming.




































Monday, December 30, 2013

Northern Arizona and Southern Utah

Last week Friday, I headed west from Monument Valley on Highway 160 not entirely sure where I was headed next. I did, however, know my first stop: Navajo National Monument, located about an hour away near the town of Shonto, Arizona.

Most of the trails at Navajo National Monument were closed due to snow and ice, but I was able to hike a mile-long trail to an overlook of an 800 year old Navajo village built into an alcove of Betatakin Canyon, part of the Tsegi Canyon system.

I didn't stay long, and a few hours later found myself near the outskirts of Page in northern Arizona. Signs along the highway informed me that I was close to Antelope Canyon, a place I had seen stunning photos of but hadn't planned on visiting. In no hurry, I decided to pull off the highway and investigate. I'm glad I did.

Antelope Canyon (specifically Lower Antelope Canyon) is one of the most spectacular places I've ever visited. It is on Navajo land and requires a $26 admission fee, but the intricately carved rock of the narrow slot canyon is well worth the price of admission.

Following two Navajo guides, our tour group of about 20 people descended into the surreal Salvador Dali underwold of sculpted stone ranging in hue from bright orange to deep purple. It was unlike anything I've ever seen before.

Flash floods flowing down steep descents to Lake Powell have carved the constantly changing, three-quarters mile dreamscape. I felt as if I were inside a giant lava lamp.

Continuing through Page, I stopped at a vista overlooking of the Glen Canyon Dam, then at another high above Lake Powell. I ended the day a little further west in Kanab, a small town in southern Utah, where I paid just six dollars to watch the latest installment of The Hobbit movie trilogy at the Crescent Moon Theater.

The next morning, I got up early, drove to Zion National Park, and hiked the Watchman Trail. I'd been to Zion twice before but never in the winter. It was gloriously empty. There was hardly a car in the parking lot and only one other person on that trail that morning.


Navajo National Monument





Antelope Canyon




























Glen Canyon Dam and Lake Powell







Crescent Moon Theater



Zion National Park