Saline Valley Dec 10-11

If I had to pick a middle of nowhere for California it would be Saline Valley without hesitation. It is a place few Californians have rightfully heard of. It is hard to get to, and sometimes even harder to leave.

It is also a place hard to describe. Lots of expansive views and beautiful desert subtlety. The valley is roughly T-shaped with large and wide sloping bajadas descending down each of the three branches to an intermittent salt lake at their juncture. The valley has no external drainage, its waters collect and evaporate in the salt lake at 300m elevation. The western side of the valley is a dramatic fault-bounded escarpment with snow-covered peaks to 3400m capping the skyline. At the ends of the two arms of the T are the two main routes into the valley: the windy and higher North Pass road and the longer, wash-boarded and more washout-prone South Pass. Partway down the stem of the T is a large white-ish patch of travertine, and within that patch, several clusters of mature palm trees, not just marking any oases, but ones sourcing copious amounts of 42°C water. This is the refuge many enter the valley to seek. From the serene comfort of one of the well-made hot pools is an expansive view of the salt lake, sand dunes, the snowy Inyo Range, great dip slope mountains and a small cinder cone with a giant peace sign marked on it.


Saline Valley viewed from a slot canyon. Hot springs are at the oasis in white patch in the distant center. Cinder cones to right. Also note cars at lower center.

The valley has captivated many people over the years, people that have left their mark and personality on the land in that Steinbeckian sense of place. Disparate visitors include Indians, miners, gangs, jet pilots, hippies, nudists, artists and four-wheel drivers.

The valley was once home to the Timbisha tribe, who called the valley Ko'on. Then came the miners, who built a steep tramway over the Inyos to ferry borax from the salt lake back to civilization. In the 60s, nudists discovered the hot springs, installing concrete tubs and showers. The springs were also a frequent hangout of cult leader Charles Manson and his gang, he believing that one of the springs might be a bottomless pit into an underworld paradise. The valley is also a favorite training ground for the military because of its low and high elevations. To this day jets still can be seen dog fighting over the valley and occasionally buzzing the hot springs. In 1994 the valley became a part of Death Valley National Park, but the valley remained remote enough that a couple traditions were carried on- the military still flies aircraft in the valley and the hot springs are still nudist.

Getting there is not easy and takes quite a bit of gasoline. In the winter the valley can be completely shut off. Essentially you drive to Death Valley (which most would consider the middle of nowhere), then continue on rough wash-boarded dirt roads for up to four hours. There are several roads into the valley, none of them particularly easy, one or more frequently closed due to washouts or snow, and two of them used only a handful of times a year by experienced four wheel drivers. We entered via South Pass, which despite snow, was rumored to be passable.





We drove through spacious Joshua Tree forests of the high desert, then climbed up a steep gully, to a snowy Juniper forest. Near South Pass we enjoyed the far-reaching views of the Panamint dunes and Telescope Peak, before continuing down the road's snowy shadows into the valley as the day turned to pastel skies then night. We endured some of the most vicious washboards known to man before reaching the springs well into the dark. After dinner we had a great soak in the Wizard Pool as a cold wind blew over us.


Near South Pass. Panamint Dunes and Telescope Peak in background.




Saline Valley


Bat Rock Road sign

The following morning we soaked in the Crystal Pool at the lower springs, meeting a friendly older couple who planned to spend a week at the springs. Desert hippie art is everywhere from the picnic areas to the bathrooms to the pools themselves. All up, there are over 8 different pools to bathe in including a kid's pool. They are some of the best engineered hot pools I have seen anywhere. We soaked in many of them before reluctantly departing for our next adventures.


Lower springs


Upper springs


Crystal Pool


Volcano Pool

On the road out we spotted some interesting slot canyons and could not help but take the detour. We managed to make it surprisingly far up the slot (climbing about four dry falls before being stopped by a fifth) where we were rewarded with amazing views across the valley. We then checked out nearby Pat Keyes Canyon, which had some nice waterfalls and flowing water to our surprise. More to explore on a future trip hopefully.



Next on the agenda...escape Saline Valley. We chose to attempt exit via the Lippencott Road, a steep and rough expert four wheel drive road. This seldom-used road would take us straight to the Racetrack which we hoped to visit. It is the sort of road that takes over an hour to go 6 miles and I for one was very glad to be driving my Jeep and not Ryan's enormous diesel truck which followed. We both managed though, or to be more precise, our vehicles both managed. We caught sunset from the last viewpoint down into Saline Valley before crossing the pass into Death Valley.

Darwin Falls Dec 10

Death Valley has many distinctions, among them are the hottest, driest and lowest place on North America. Despite these distinctions, water can still be found in surprising abundance if you know where to look. The top of many of its side valleys are dry and only flow with water after the heaviest rains and before the surface water evaporates or sinks into the ground. Several of these valleys have year-round springs partway down them, veritable oases supporting Cottonwood trees and thick reeds. Signs of bighorn sheep and coyotes are common and birdsong is often heard. The water then flows for a distance, longer if the canyon steepens and sediment gives way to bedrock floors. Some of these canyons turn narrow and drop steeply in a series of waterfalls and pools, a delight to canyoneers looking for an adventure on a warm winter's day.

The particular spring we camped next to is known as China Garden, one of several springs that intermittently water stretches of Darwin Canyon. It was once the site of a gold miner's camp. These days its pond is home to a curious abundance of koi fish.





We embraced the unusual paradox as we set off down the dry wash in the driest place in the U.S....in our wetsuits. We passed several other springs in rapid succession, choosing to take to scrambling across the valley's sides rather than fight our way through the thick vegetation of the springs. After a distance, the small creek became permanent. We continued on until we found ourselves at the top of a dramatic drop- 80ft Darwin Falls with pools and smaller falls below. We opted for a wet descent and rigged our rope to go straight down the falls. I went first, savoring the water and all the time reminding myself that I was in Death Valley (Panamint Valley really).







After the main falls there are a few pools to wade through, one of which I stupidly dropped a small ascender into. I spent a brain-freezing five minutes diving to recover it, eventually succeeding. We continued on, downclimbing the remaining waterfalls and bridging some of the deeper pools. Ryan found a bypass to all the falls and was able to run up and retrieve our anchor- it turns out we did not need a car shuttle for this trip after all! At the last waterfall we began to meet hikers that had come up from the bottom, some of them interested in our mornings exploits. We continued downstream where the vegetation and water gives way to a dry wash. Still in our wetsuits and helmets, we got a particularly amusing reaction from a tourist who did not respond to our "hello" but instead hurried on like he had just seen a ghost or was worried he was hallucinating from a lack of water. It was an enjoyable trip, but much too short. Photos of me by Ryan.


You can imagine some of the looks we got from tourists

Trona Pinnacles Dec 9

Here I sit atop the tallest pinnacle, draped in orders of magnitude of time and space. Looking out I see eroding badlands of muddy green-gray sediments of ancient Searles Lake. In the foreground cutting the sediments, a recently-flooded wash free of tracks, the darker shade in the anastomosing channels indicating it is still water-saturated. The wash flows north towards the center of the basin- its intermittent waters will never reach the sea. Beyond is the eastern cluster of one hundred some odd pinnacles and their long midday winter shadows, separated from the distant mountains by the expansive flats of the old lake bottom. The mountains are half gone, skirted in an apron of alluvium extending over a third of the height of the mountains, marking the elevation of the old lake. To the west 150,000 years of beaches stripe the hills. The lake would have reached depths of 200m in places. To the north are the snowy peaks bounding the west side of Death Valley.

It is quiet apart from distant chatter of people behind me, their voices strangely reflected by the pinnacles, and the more distant booms of air cannons sounding at Trona to discourage traveling birds from stopping over at the toxic brine waters. There would be more people here but for the "Road Closed- Flooded" signs posted on the road. I test the atmosphere- my echoes ring out in the still desert air.



A light atmospheric haze fills the wide valley up to the old lake level cut into the desert mountains, creating an enticing illusion of a lake of fog. Distant peaks are silhouetted into the bleeding horizon. From my vantage point it is little trouble to imagine sitting here below the lake surface during the last glacial period.

It is easy to drift into the distant past here- some of my earliest and fondest rock collecting trips with my father were here at the Pinnacles and at Trona to the north; the geology is so in-your-face it is easy to make the shift into geological time and start thinking about these fossil springs slowly precipitating calcium carbonate to form these pinnacles, the slow settling of silt to form perfectly laminated lake deposits, and of the extinct camels and horses that would have dwelt near the shore. Here there is some measure of escape from the more temporal, proximal and personal thoughts that populate my mind.

There is something slightly strange about how light behaves reflecting off these pinnacles. I think their highly porous nature must alter a certain quality of light. Little grows in the poor soil. Desert holly is the only plant prevalent on my mound. A jet black crow circles with a watchful, if somewhat disinterested, eye. It lets out a "caw" I can only wonder if was directed at me. The sharp tufa presses into my pants- good thing I chose canvas today.



Atop this pinnacle intriguing textures make up the tufa and set my geological mind to wondering. Vertical-walled mounds like castle turrets are concentrically-zoned, or ringed, and often have no obvious location where fluids would bubble up. These rings consist of pencil-like fibers (themselves concentrically-zoned) radiating outward from the center. The center itself typically forms a slight bowl or depression, evidently being less resistant than the outer rinds. The sides of the mounds are frequently more cavernous with voids containing pea-sized botroids of calcite. Where these are broken they can be seen to be hollow. Also present is a chaotic tafonitic mesh- the characteristic tufa texture. It is not dissimilar to some varieties of coral, but decidedly more disordered. Some of the textures resemble networks of tube worms. Two tones of tufa are discerned within; older surfaces have a slight desert varnish patina.





It is time for this geological romance to end. The shadows have lengthened and I should drive on.

Anza Borrego Jan 1-2

The Split Mountain Gorge of Fish Creek Wash has some world-famous geology and makes for a scenic and interesting four-wheel drive up a varied desert landscape. We stopped to have a look at some of the world's best exposures of alluvial fan deposits (photo below) and the base of an enormous landslide that overrode turbidite deposits and then pondered the thought-provoking landslide collision outcrop (second photo below). Here the great landslide slammed into the bedded sandstones and shales, chaotically folding and deforming the rocks like a freight train running into an immense pile of rugs.

We drove on through the deeply-incised gorge to where the canyon reverts to a open wash through badlands for several miles. Eventually we reached the spectacular Sandstone Canyon where several slot canyons feed into a sandy-floored canyon not much more than the width of a Jeep in places. I drove the Jeep as far as the major rockfall blocking further car traffic, and then we explored a bit on foot. Apologies for all the Jeep hero shots- it's been a while since I have been able to go four-wheel driving.




Sexy rocks; sexy jeep; moderately attractive girl







On the way back out we stopped to have lunch in a sandstone alcove with far-reaching views of badlands framed by the wind-carved sandstone with a confused ocotillo blooming in the foreground. By this time many of the four wheel enthusiasts had arrived and so off we headed towards the Salton Sea.


Badlands

Not far from the southern shores of the Salton Sea is another geological oddity. In a muddy, salt-encrusted field on the side of the road is a cluster of about a dozen small mounds of mud reaching six feet in height. Here rising geothermal gases and heat combine with a shallow groundwater level to create whimsically gurgling and spurting mud volcanoes. The mud volcanoes are remarkable as exact scale replicas of larger volcanic features like cinder cones, lava fountains, ropy pahoehoe flows, craters, calderas, rifts and bubbling lakes. It's amazing how something so simple can be so enthralling.

We caught a real stunner of a sunset over the Salton Sea before driving along the US-Mexican border to Ocotillo and turning into the Carrizo Badlands for the night.


Salton Sea mud volcanoes






Sunset at the Salton Sea

After a leisurely morning we set out down the narrow gorge of the Canyon Sin Nombre, stopping where curiosity necessitated us to check out the intriguing slots and side canyons. Some of these slots were surprisingly long, sinuous and dark with chockstones and dry falls to navigate. The bottom of the canyon opened out into a wide and vast wash which we followed up to another dusty canyon known as Arroyo Tapiado. This canyon cuts through dipping siltstones and sandstones with just the right conditions for some of the world's most extensive mud cave systems to form. Several dozen different cave systems exist; countless arches and collapses are testament to former caves. Several of the caves we explored were tight with several branches. Some of the caves reach rather spacious dimensions for mud caves: 4m wide and 7m tall. The longest cave was about 1000 feet long. Sara led the way as we felt our way through the confines of a body-width cave in total darkness. We had a great time exploring and easily lost track of time. A memorable drive through snow and rain up the dark and twisty back roads of San Diego County found us back in civilization.

Joshua Tree Dec 31

The second day was spent climbing some superb quality Joshua Tree granite on the Feudal Wall at Indian Cove on a clear sunny day. It was good vibes from all the other climbers we ran into, with several conversations striked up and offers to use each others top ropes. We played on a wide range of climbs including a 5.7 hand crack, a 5.8 body-chewing slot (much grunting required), a great 5.10b slab and an awesome, but ultimately defeating, 5.11b mixed face climb. The rock is all about friction- in some cases painfully pressing your fingertips into sharp feldspar crystal faces being the only way to advance up the rock. Before long nerves in fingers are worn raw and sensitive. Skin ultimately peels. It's some of the nicest rock I have climbed on in a long time.





In the afternoon Sara and I parted from Jeff and Richard and drove on south through the park, crossing the transition from the Joshua tree-ed high desert (Mojave) and into the ocotillo and cholla-garnished low desert of the Colorado as the shadows grew long and light shifted across distant bajadas. In the dark we drove past scattered caravans of off-road enthusiasts corralled into bright circles of intense light in an otherwise dark landscape. Between these, lights of dune buggies and dirt bikes raced chaotically. The scene was eerily alien at a distance.

We turned off onto the dirt road into Fish Creek Wash where we found a quiet camp spot at the mouth of the gorge and spent what I consider an idealized New Year's lying beneath the stars and watching the Big Dipper and Orion sweep across the crisp sky as the year passed before us. I cannot think of a better way to have spent New Years.

Wonderland of Rocks Dec 30

Finally back to my true love, the desert, for a trip I have long fantasized about: a traverse through Joshua Tree's vast rock wilderness known only as the Wonderland of Rocks.

The Wonderland of Rocks is a 2.5 by 4.5 mile natural maze of great granite monoliths, boulders and cactus. No trail passes through its interior and it is seldom visited beyond its fringes. Having the means to set up a car shuttle, we sought to do a full lengthwise traverse from one side of the Wonderland to the other, fully realizing turning back might be necessary. Arriving at the car well into the dark was a strong possibility. A poorly-chosen route could easily find us cliff-ed out at an insurmountable obstacle and forced to find another way.

In short, it is a great place to explore and a superb place to get lost.

While I knew a route existed through the Wonderland, we proposed a more ambitious route involving numerous on the ground decisions. We set off across the Joshua tree-ed washes between the rockpile islands, heading roughly north, but improvising where necessary. Often climbing one of the rockpiles found us staring down an insurmountable back side, and another route would need to be found. Often the view from the top of a rockpile extended only as far as the next rockpile. In this sense, our hike reminded me a bit of caving, where typically only the next obstacle can be seen and the end goal can seem like a long way off.

For much of the trip, our course of travel was dictated by the prominent fracture patterns in the granite (see satellite image). These fractures formed washes or gullies or saddles that could be often be traversed with considerable ease compared to the wall-like monoliths that abut them. In the Wonderland, topographic maps are next to useless because of the relatively uniform size and distribution of the monolithic rockpiles. However, a compass and satellite images proved to be invaluable navigational aids and we usually had enough clues to pinpoint our location at any given time.


Our approximate route through the Wonderland


Setting forth





The variety of terrain we crossed was satisfyingly diverse- sandy washes, intense scrub and cactus, lofty rock towers, narrow saddles, rock-strewn guts, talus caves, granite slickrock, even rock arches. In a few places, some games of cactus hopscotch were gingerly played to step through cactus patches.To my surprise water was surprisingly ubiquitous, in part because of the recent rains and little soil development. We could have easily gone the whole trip without carrying water had we wanted to. After a while of this intense hiking, I felt sufficiently isolated.




Even here there is water

Eventually we made it to the sandy wash en route to Willow Hole, which provided a welcome intermission before the final 4 hour crossing of two boulder saddles and the final descent down Rattlesnake Canyon to our cars. At this point it became obvious we would be finishing the trip in the dark, so we tried to keep a steady pace. This final section provided some of the most challenging and enjoyable terrain including a steep descent in, above and through a boulder talus cave. It was a long, but thoroughly, enjoyable trip. The beauty of it of course is the variety, wilderness feel and numerous possibilities. I would readily go on a deeper and more challenging trip through the Wonderland- several days might even be necessary.

The day ended around a campfire, devouring a delicious blueberry-capped cheesecake in honor of Sara's birthday. Thanks to Richard, Jeff, Ryan and Sara for a great and memorable adventure.




In the thick of it






Descent into Rattlesnake Canyon at dusk