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- It's fun to pull gently at knobs on the old car's dashboard to see if they budge
The knobs barely move and don't control what they were supposed to control. Inside the old car shell, it actually feels hotter than outside because the roof intensifies the heat beneath it. - An old automobile carcass near the 100-year-old saloon ruins
I walk down to the old car and crawl inside to get some temporary shelter from the blazing sun. The green bushes indicate exactly where the Amargosa River flows. What a contrast with the dry surroundings! - Over on the west side of the Amargosa River is the ruins of an old stone saloon from 100 years ago
My water is already starting to get low, so I backtrack on the trail on the east side of the Amargosa River and cross over to see what's on the west side of the river. The river here (which is just a stream at this time of year) still has some water in it. While crossing it, I stop and soak my hands in the cool water, which sends messages about pleasure to my hot brain. I'm surprised that the water is fairly cool, which I guess is because it's protected from the blasting sun by all the brush growing around it. - Cold storage behind the old stone saloon
I'm guessing that this is where they kept their beer, in the hope of keeping it cold, or at least not having it warm up too quickly. - The trail on the east side of the Amargosa River heading south away from China Ranch
If you follow this trail for many more miles, you'll eventually arrive at the Dumont Dunes. - Walking along the Amargosa River trail
There's nobody around but me. - An old truck near the Amargosa River
It looks like it's getting buried by the deposits of annual flood waters. - I begin a long walk down the Amargosa River
Despite the heat, I begin a long walk down the Amargosa River and enter the gate to the BLM-managed wilderness area called "Amargosa River ACEC" (Area of Critical Environmental Concern). As always, "take it slow, but take it." The ice-cold 1.5-litre bottle of water that I purchased at the store is already getting warm. I should have bought two of them. - The China Ranch bakery and store at the end of China Ranch Road
They grow many varieties of dates and I sample some of them. - Standing in front of their extensive date-palm orchard
Since this orchard is well-watered, it feels hot and sticky here due to the moisture evaporation. - A cabin along China Ranch Road near the store
Apparently, this is being restored or rebuilt. There are several little buildings down here, presumably where the owners and staff live, as well as a small bed-and-breakfast, so the area has the feeling of a tiny village. - I walk down the short creek trail behind the China Ranch bakery and store
I'm surprised how lush this creek trail is. The small stream gives off a lot of humidity through evaporation and seems to attract lots of insects. - The temperature exceeds 100 degrees F under the ramada outside the China Ranch store
I sit here and eat half of the date-nut loaf that I just bought. It's so good that I want to eat it all, but I'm already full, so I discipline myself to stop eating and save half of it for tomorrow's breakfast. I'm also having a great time with my new 1.5-litre bottle of cold water, my first cold water today. Though the heat is a bit oppressive (it feels somewhat humid down here in the canyon), it's liberating to be in such nice surroundings. - Farther into the canyon on China Ranch Road
The canyon walls have gotten higher. Dramatic! - I head downhill into the canyon toward the China Ranch date farm
Wow, this is interesting. - I've read about the steep downhill on the China Ranch Road here, but I haven't seen it yet
I guess I'll see it in a moment. There's no visible civilization in the immediate area except for road signs and the signs to China Ranch. - I ride up the Old Spanish Trail Highway's gentle hill, which leads out of Tecopa toward the Kingston Range
Old Spanish Trail Highway rises slowly toward the Kingston Range. A sign to China Ranch directs me onto Furnace Creek Wash Road. I remember passing this sign last year coming down from the Kingston Range on the way to Tecopa Hot Springs during last year's Mojave National Preserve trip. It's interesting to see this road from the opposite direction. - During my ride to China Ranch date farm, I stop at the public water tank behind Tecopa School to refill my my water bottles
A faded sign warns that "water is not filtered," but it tastes fine. There's no drinking water available at Tecopa Hot Springs Campground, so this place, a couple miles away, is the place to fill up. Since the water tank sits out in the hot sun, the water is rather warm, but it's free! - Late morning at my Tecopa Hot Springs camp site by the mesquite bush
I've already had coffee, a light breakfast of sorts, and a long relaxing soak in the hot pool, complete with interesting chats with other guys enjoying the pool. I would like to have slept in later, but that's not usually possible in the desert in a tent due to the hot sun making the tent too hot by 7h30. - An old car and trailer near my camp site at Tecopa Hot Springs Campground
The 10-ton bike's tent sits in front of the mesquite bush in the background. - An old bus converted to camper at Tecopa Hot Springs Campground
The campground is mostly empty now that the hot weather is setting in, which adds to the serenity of the surroundings. One of the few remaining campers at the campground tells me that a couple in their 80s lives in the bus and has plans to get married soon. - Petro Road
A mile or two outside Death Valley Junction, a lonely sign for Petro Road seems to beg for a reason to exist, with nobody around. - Leaving the blit of civilization that is Death Valley Junction
Heading south on Highway 127 toward Shoshone and Tecopa Hot Springs, I begin the trek across 25 miles of desolation. There's very little traffic out here on this late Saturday afernoon. - Covered walkway in front of the opera house
The old-style rental motel rooms (no phone or television) are along this walkway. - Old gas pumps sit in an alcove along the opera house's covered walkways
Perhaps these came from the old garage across the road. Facing the road is an old restaurant space, for rent. One of the units nearby houses the old, abandoned Death Valley Junction post office and still contains some old fixtures inside. The modern postal boxes seen here substitute for the old post office these days. - The Amargosa Opera House complex is really quite large and parts of it are not in use
I stop in at the motel's "gift shop" to buy two bags of potato chips and two cans of Coca-Cola, which I normally don't like. But it tastes so good because it's cold and the caffeine content is needed right now. Anything ice-cold tastes great after riding 30 miles over a mountain in 100-degree weather and drinking hot water out of a Camelbak for a few of hours! - The former service station across the road from the Amargosa Opera House
An old sign announces good food (food no longer available) and lodging (still available) at the opera-house complex across the road. There is, however, a restaurant space for rent directly across the road at the front of the motel complex. I consider renting a room here and staying the night, especially because octogenerian Marta Becket, the reason the opera house still exists here, is doing one of her performances tonight. However, I'm very much looking forward to the hot tubs at Tecopa Hot Springs later on, and an easy day ride to China Ranch tomorrow. - The Amargosa Opera House is the main building in Death Valley Junction
There's not really a town here, except for the big old opera-house complex. What appears to be the "next building" further down the road is actually connected to the building in the foreground. It's a huge old complex, oversized for its location. - The tiny village of Death Valley Junction sits off in the distance another 7 miles or so
Cold drinks ahead! - Back on Highway 190, I begin the slow descent to Death Valley Junction some 15 miles further and 1000 feet lower
I had a light tailwind during the entire climb out of Death Valley, but up at the summit, the wind has changed direction and now I have a light headwind. I have to pedal to get any speed at all on this slow downhill. - More at the abandoned campground
Concrete slabs for trailers, or whatever. This was a pretty big development. I didn't count the concrete slabs, but I'm guessing there are two dozen, maybe more. I wonder how long (if at all) this place was viable as a business, and when it was operational. - The old road through the trailer park hasn't returned to nature
... not yet, at least. - Standing in the middle of the abandoned campground's swimming pool
The old swimming pool has been filled in so as not to pose a hazard to visitors like me. The old tile work of the pool protrudes above ground a little at the centre-right of the photo. Death Valley, where I started this morning, is straight ahead beyond the mountains behind the abandoned campground, about 3500 feet down. - More of the old tiled floor at the former campground's entrance
Not all interesting patterns out here in the desert are natural earth features. - Standing in the middle of what was probably the campground's office
Only the old tiled floor of the building remains. - At the summit of Highway 190 in the Funeral Mounatins is the remains of an extensive RV camping park (or something like that)
I simply can't pass by here without checking it out, lover of abandoned stuff that I am. I stop to explore. - 3000 feet, I'm almost at the top of my climb out of Death Valley
I still have a couple of miles and a few hundred feet of climbing left, but it's so gentle that it almost feels level to me at this point. As always, take it slow, but take it! - Higher up in the Funeral Mountains and looking back down
I'm well past the turn-off from Highway 190 to Greenwater Valley Road, which is the route I used to enter Death Valley on the way in from Gold Valley. - Rising up into the Funeral Mountains on Highway 190
I'm now up around 2000 feet. - Higher above Zabriskie Point on Highway 190
Looking back down toward Death Valley past the area of 20 Mule Team Canyon. On this stretch, I meet two touring bicyclists heading into Death Valley for a couple of days and we stop and chat for a bit. Their ultimate destination is Baja California. - I reach the 1000-foot point of elevation gain on the way out of Death Valley
Ah, now I'm getting somewhere. Only a bit more than 2000 feet to rise before I start to go downhill again! - Leaving Zabriskie Point
The tourists return to their bus at the Zabriskie Point parking lot; this tourist returns to his bicycle, which is also parked there. - Looking down toward Highway 190 from Zabriskie Point; my world is slanted
The tour bus that released the tourists at Zabriskie Point is visible down in the parking lot. - I stop for a toilet break at Zabriskie Point, just above Death Valley
Tourists taking in the views at Zabriskie Point. A trail leads from here down into Golden Canyon, where I hiked last week. - Lots of greenery a little further up Highway 190
A stream trickles along the highway, from the natural springs in the area. - On the way out of Furnace Creek
... the old motel along Highway 190. - OK, I've really left Furnace Creek now
Just starting the climb out of Death Valley on Highway 190, I look back down toward the valley. - Just before leaving Furnace Creek
... one last stop at the public washroom near the laundromat. I had another one of those big corned-beef-hash-and-eggs breakfasts that I like so much, at the Furnace Creek café before leaving Death Valley. Some of the café staff gets laid off for the summer at this time of year, now that the heat is setting in and there is much-reduced business. - Grimshaw Lake has an eerie appearance at sunset when captured by high-speed, grainy, disposable-camera film
Almost a full moon tonight! It is almost dark when I arrive at Tecopa Hot Springs campground a mile or so down the road from here. There aren't many people left at the campground, and I get a decently private site down at the back of the parking area in front of the dry lake. After a shower and soak in the hot pool, I make another instant backpacking meal. I end the evening a bit before midnight by going out for a short walk out on the dry lake to enjoy the moonlight. - Any body of water out here in the dry desert, however small, beckons for attention
Grimshaw Lake here is no exception. There is still water here (too mineralized for humans to drink), but the part of Grimshaw Lake behind Tecopa Hot Springs campground is already dry for the summer. - The light dims here on Tecopa Hot Springs Road
Sunset is a time of day that I wish would last longer. Of course, I like sunrise just as much, but am almost never up early enough to see it. - I turn off Highway 127 onto Tecopa Hot Springs Road
Heading down Tecopa Hot Springs Road at sunset; I'm almost there. - Riding down Highway 127 through the badlands between Shoshone and Tecopa Hot Springs
Again, but at sunset this time. - The badlands along Highway 127 near Shoshone and Tecopa always get my interest
They're even more interesting to contemplate at sunset. - Riding from Shoshone to Tecopa Hot Springs near sunset
Tecopa Hot Springs is just another eight miles down Highway 127 from Shoshone. Sunset, with its golden and rosy glows, is always a great time to be riding out here. - A quick stop at the Shoshone Museum, across the road from the store
I consider having supper at The Crowbar restaurant next door, but decide that I'd better enjoy spending the time at Tecopa Hot Springs. I'm actually looking forward to another instant backpacker's meal! - The 10-ton bike and its sore knee take a break at the Shoshone general store and gas station
I fill up my water reserves (there's no water at Tecopa Hot Springs Campground) and buy a couple of cold Sobé grapefruit drinks to consume immediately. And beer for a later in the evening at Tecopa Hot Springs, though it probably won't be very cold by the time I get to drink it. The sun is starting to go down, and the thermometer here shows that the temperature has finally dipped below 100 degrees F. I can really feel the "cool" breeze in the air. - A row of cabins along Highway 127 in "downtown" Shoshone
I wonder if this was once a motel complex years ago. - Black rocks that look like giant charcoal briquets
... on the right side of Highway 127 approaching Shoshone from the north. - This sign for Badwater, 55 miles, tells me that my loop through Death Valley is now complete
On day two of my ride, I rode Highway 127 up to this point, and then headed up Highway 178 toward Greenwater Valley (I didn't go all the way to Badwater). - I stop for a break and look back at Eagle Mountain, which I passed a while ago
Eagle Mountain is that lump in the centre-left of the photo. - A series of short hills surprise me along southbound Highway 127
Hmmmm... I thought it would be all flat between Death Valley Junction and Tecopa Hot Springs. I take a short break here. My sore right knee is acting up again. It didn't give me any problems coming over the Funeral Mountains earlier today, but I guess it's tired now. - Interesting earth piles in front of the Resting Springs Range along Highway 127
These look man-made. I keep watching along here for an old road that leads up into the hills of the Resting Springs Wilderness area, to an old mine site (Baxter Mine). It's an area I might like to explore one day, but I miss the road. - Flood markers along Highway 127
Flood markers indicate the height of the Amargosa River, which runs along the other side of the highway. This part of the Amargosa River is mostly dry right now. A SUV slows down while passing me and asks for directions to Baker, so he can get back home to Southern California. - A bit of drama on southbound Highway 127
I like this part of southbound Highway 127 where it quirkily turns and heads straight toward Eagle Mountain for a bit. Then, when the road starts getting close to Eagle Mountain, it turns sharply to the right at almost 90 degrees and veers away from it. - Me, hot but content, sitting in the shade of the athel trees
I have laundry to do this evening at the Furnace Creek laundromat. As well, ice cold beer available at the general store a mile away over by the laundromat will help cool down my evening. Despite the appetite-suppressing heat, I'm getting quite hungry, which is a good sign that my body is functioning normally. My instant add-water-to-pouch backpacker's rice-based meal tastes great. I enjoy the hot evening at the Furnace Creek Campground after the sun goes down. There is a certain serenity about hot evenings anywhere that I often find soothing--until I need to go to bed and can't fall asleep in the heat. Fortunately, the slight late-night breeze is just enough to keep the tent from overheating, so falling asleep is actually easy and pleasant. - I'm lucky enough to get one of the Furnace Creek campsites in the athel trees
The thermometer at the campground entrance showed 105 degrees F, so shade is a valuable commodity here today. I drank almost a gallon of water, most of it very warm, during the 20-mile ride from Stovepipe Wells to Furnace Creek. I'm hoping that the campground won't be full tonight, with the heat having discouraged visitors. So far, so good. Parts of the Furnace Creek area have already closed down for the hot summer when there are fewer park visitors. I've been told that tomorrow is supposed to have record-breaking heat for the day--close to 110 degrees. I'd like to stay longer, but I'm planning my escape. I've enjoyed meeting the challenge of riding in 100+ degrees so far, but I'm not sure I'm ready for 110 degrees so soon? - A view of the athels and their shade from my tent
These are nice trees, even though they're non-native and somewhat invasive. The bottle of brown stuff on the picnic table is tea. I just stuffed a couple of tea bags in the bottle with my already hot water and let the hot sun do the work of making the tea. - I slowly approach Furnace Creek Campground, that green patch in the centre of the photo
Now that I'm almost there, I decide that riding 25 miles in 100+ degrees F isn't quite as insane as I thought it might be. Just take it as slow and easy as necessary, but take it. - I suck back lots of now-hot water from my Camelbak on this hot ride down Highway 190
My water is hot and unappealing by now, but it's still important to drink a lot of it to stay hydrated. Hot water in hot weather is not very tasty, nor refreshing, but that doesn't matter. It provides the necessary sustenance to continue nonetheless. - About nine miles further on Highway 190, while riding south down the other side of Death Valley, I pass the Beatty Cutoff
I'm back in familiar territory again; I rode up Beatty Cutoff a few days ago on the way to Monarch Canyon. One of many motorcycles whizzes by in the photo. I've had numerous positive gestures from motorcyclists just on today's ride (and so many more throughout the trip), which is always uplifting. Several have waved, a few others have honked and waved, and one just a few miles ago was really special. He was headed in the same direction as I, and honked, yelled, and extended his arm with a positive thumbs-up gesture while passing, to make sure that I would see it. I love these encouraging moments and wish I could reciprocate somehow, but I suspect that the entertainment value that I provide might already be a fair exchange. I've taken today's ride quite slowly due to the extreme heat, and have stopped for many water breaks. My right knee is still giving me some pain, but the pain usually goes away whenever I stop for a short rest. But I don't care, it has been a great day nonetheless. - Another view of the Devil's Corn Field area along Highway 190
In my view of the mountains ahead, I try to locate Monarch Canyon, where I camped a few days ago for two nights. It's roughly straight ahead somewhere, up near the top. I see heat rising off the road, and it probably rises off me too while I ride. - The 10-ton bike takes another brief break at the Devil's Corn Field
The 10-ton bike needs many breaks in this kind of heat, and a significant amount of water needs to be consumed during each break in order to remain operational. - Beyond Stovepipe Wells, I cross Death Valley on Highway 190 and stop to look at the Death Valley Dunes
I wonder what it would be like to go for a short walk out there in this heat. While riding along here, a gust of wind blows some sand into my eyes. Fortunately, I haven't yet experienced one of the Death Valley sand storms that many visitors before me have stories about. - Gasp, it is hot here
The thermometer has already reached 102 degrees F at Stovepipe Wells in the shade, and it's not even noon yet. - After 10 fun, hot downhill miles to the Stovepipe Wells store for cold drinks, who pulls up but Phil and Renée!
The ride from Emigrant Campground 2000 feet to here at Stovepipe Wells (100 feet below sea level) was easy and fun, with hot, dry air blowing against me. While hanging out in front of the Stovepipe Wells store consuming cold drinks (Sobé grapefruit again), which taste so good, and which will be my last cold anythings for a few hours, Phil and Renée pull up into the parking lot! We chat and get someone to take a group photo of us together, which we didn't do yesterday. Phil and Renée go across the road to rent their motel room for the day, and I cross the road also to get some cooler water for my Camelbak, whose water is already hot. We say our goodbyes again. - Ready to leave Emigrant Campground, the contents of my camp site are packed on the 10-ton bike again
I say my goodbyes and thanks to Phil and Renée and begin the glorious ten-mile downhill from 2000 feet to just below sea level at Stovepipe Wells. My stay at Emigrant Campground has been a memorable part of the trip. - One last view of the vacant Emigrant Campground on this hot, sunny morning before packing up
There's just me, Phil and Renée (with the SUV straight ahead from me), and a guy from the Los Angeles area. We're all leaving Emigrant Campground this morning. I don't really want to leave, but I'm nearing the end of my two-week vacation from work (I wanted three weeks), and I'm still more than 100 miles away from Baker, from where I'll be taking Amtrak back to San José in a few days. I woke up early this morning, baking in my tent from the hot sun shining on it as usual. However, this morning feels hotter than other recent mornings. After a quick breakfast, I had coffee over at Phil and Renée's camp site again. They've decided to spend their last night in Death Valley at the Stovepipe Wells Motel 10 miles down the road to get out of the heat, have a shower, and perhaps lounge around by the pool there for a while. - It's starting to get dark as we drive over Hunter Mountain
We probably still have 30 minutes of light left. We reach over 7000 feet elevation on Hunter Mountain Road. - Finally, we start our long descent into Death Valley on Hunter Mountain Road, through the pine trees
This corner of Death Valley National Park actually has a forest of pinyon pines due to its high elevation (7000 feet). It's also a lot cooler here up high. Our long slow descent down the washboarded Hunter Mountain Road is bumpy. The sun sets behind the pine trees, and the hills sometimes block the sunset and many of the views of the Panamint Valley below. No more photos for the day, due to lack of disposable cameras and the darkness encroaching! The lower part of the drive, on Saline Valley Road, is also rough, due to the old damaged pavement on the road. There are damaged-pavement areas, and potholes to be avoided, if you can be bothered dodging them all. We make it back to the smooth pavement of Highway 190 just after dark and stop at Panamint Springs Resort for an expensive (but good) hamburger and beer to go back to our camp sites at Emigrant Campground. We're all tired and Renée isn't feeling well from all the bouncing around in the back seat, but we've created a day to remember after driving 160 miles, much of it on backroads. - We find ourselves at the top of the Goldbelt Grade at a time of day when photographers come out
It's that special pre-sunset light that improves so many photographs. We're up at about 6000 feet now and the views toward Death Valley are unexpectedly good from the Goldbelt Grade. Phil and I borrow each other's cameras to get photos of ourselves taken for our collections. - We start the climb up Goldbelt Grade to get over Hunter Mountain by dark
To get back to Death Valley, we're going to drive over Hunter Mountain and join Highway 190 a bit west of Panamint Springs. We hope to make it back down to the pavement of Death Valley by dark. Great views of Death Valley below as we climb up away from Goldbelt Spring on the road known as the Goldbelt Grade. Backpackers can take a more direct route down to Death Valley and simply hike down through Marble Canyon from Goldbelt Spring. - A closer view of Goldbelt Spring's truck
Parked in its permanent parking spot. - The dashboard inside the old truck at Goldbelt Spring
Sorry, no power steering. - Close-up of the giant wild roses at Goldbelt Spring
When I get close up, I realize that the roses are even taller than I thought, a bit taller than me. Presuming that the roses are growing on top of Goldbelt Spring, some water should be coming out from under the roses right where I'm standing--when the spring is flowing. Indeed, there is cold, moist air exuding from the rose patch, so there might be some surface water in there somewhere. I walk around the rose thicket to see if any water is visible, but none is. The thicket is a thorny, impenetrable mass, so there's no way to get into the middle of it to see what's in there. There are lots of dried rose hips on the plants, which are probably last year's harvest. I'm surprised that the birds haven't eaten them all yet. I eat a couple, discarding the inner seeds, which leaves little more than the thin outer skin. They're quite flavourful in a tart-sweet way that reminds me of dried apricots. - We arrive at Goldbelt Spring and its thicket of head-high wild roses (the dark green patch in the middle of the photo)
I don't think I've ever seen wild roses so tall and bushy. The species around San José (rosa californica, I think), is a dwarf compared to these. Maybe they aren't as huge as they seem. Maybe the illusion of hugeness is being created by the contrast of their green lushness with the very dry surroundings adjacent to them. I had read about Goldbelt Spring's wild roses in Hiking Death Valley, so I was expecting them. I've heard that there is sometimes some usable water here at the spring--that's what keeps the wild roses so green and healthy. So I walk over to see if I can locate some water. I just have to know: could I have come here by bicycle and used Goldbelt Spring as a water source? - Phil walks over to Goldbelt Spring's old truck
There are several remnants of the mining camp that used to be here. - We drive 10 miles across Hidden Valley toward Goldbelt Spring
An unusually dense, isolated stand of Mojave yuccas near Goldbelt Spring. While driving across the emptiness of Hidden Valley to get here, we see an object in the middle of the one-lane dirt road ahead. As we get closer, we see that it is a video camera mounted on a tripod. Phil drives around it carefully. Even though there appears to be nobody anywhere out here, we now know that there is someone somewhere! Indeed, a little further down, an SUV appears on the road driving toward us, and his camera. We wave, and its driver looks as surprised to see someone else back here as we are. - The Lost Burro Mine's cabin
... still standing a century later. - Inside the Lost Burro Mine's cabin
There's even a little table inside with a few cans of food that people have left, in case a future visitor gets needy. And there's even a bottle of tabasco sauce, that most important condiment! - The "cold storage house" at Lost Burro Mine
... just outside the cabin. - After our visit to The Racetrack, we head over to the old Lost Burro Mine site
Interesting old cabin in a site that's quite isolated in its own little mini-valley. The little one mile road that leads into the Lost Burro Mine site is not in good condition! Lost Burro Mine is 10 miles from our stop at The Racetrack, just on the other side of the mountains via a pass called Lost Burro Gap. - Another important photo for any Death Valley travelogue
... one of the moving rocks on The Racetrack. The rocks apparently move around on the slick surface of the dry lake when it's wet and slippery, leaving their telltale tracks on the playa. Just as we were arriving at The Racetrack, another car was leaving. We've only passed a couple of cars since leaving the Ubehebe Crater tourist area 25 miles north of here. - I sit down on The Racetrack playa, like I might do at any other beach
This is as nice as any beach I've ever sat on, despite the absence of water here. No other cars have arrived at The Racetrack since we got here, so it is silent here in this valley, except for the sound of us walking. - Phil walks out toward The Grandstand
The Grandstand is this large rock "island" out in the middle of The Racetrack playa. - Phil stands on "the beach" at The Grandstand, in the middle of The Racetrack playa
I would like to see what this looks like when there's water on the surface of The Racetrack after a rain. - Down at the collapsed building at the old Ubehebe Mine site
As soon as we get back down to Racetrack Valley Road, we see the real road to the Ubehebe Mine site just ahead, so we follow it to its end a short distance away. My map only shows one road leaving Racetrack Valley Road in this vicinity, not two, which is how we got mixed up. - There seems to be no mine up here on this hill
However, we see what looks like the roof of a shed straight ahead way down in the canyon below. It looks like the shed has sunk, or perhaps collapsed, leaving just the roof intact. There's also another shed or outbuilding further down the canyon, to the right. We figure that must be the old lead mine area down there, so we get back in the SUV and go back down to look for it. - We drive 1/2 mile up a short steep road that we pass a couple of miles after Teakettle Junction
This appears to be the road to the old Ubehebe lead mine site. - No Death Valley backroad trip is complete without a photo of the tea kettles at Teakettle Junction
Teakettle Junction itself is nothing more than a junction of two narrow dirt roads far, far away from anything. However, there is a tradition of passers-by bringing a tea pot with them to add to the collection hanging on the sign. Many of the tea pots are dated or have messages on them, or in them. Some are very unusual vessels rather than typical tea pots, and a few even appear to have been custom-made for this purpose. - On the way from Ubehebe Crater to The Racetrack is a particularly colourful area
Blooms of desert mallow, desert paintbrush and cactus decorate the rocky Joshua-tree-studded landscape. The road to The Racetrack is notorious for its heavy washboard texture. Phil experiments with speed because driving faster sometimes allows the vehicle to plane across the little ridges in the road surface, which produces a slightly smoother ride. - Our first stop is Ubehebe Crater, in northern Death Valley
If you look very closely, you might be able to discern the ant-like shapes of the many people who are walking around at the bottom of the crater. - The 10-ton bike is all packed up in my backyard at 5h45
Ready to ride over to the San José train station 1/2 mile away. - Waiting on the train platform at Stockton after the Amtrak bus ride from San Jose
An old neighbourhood of late Victorian-era houses, much like mine, sits on the other side of the tracks. - The train from Stockton to Bakersfield makes a stop
Somewhere in the Central Valley. - Inside the train from Stockton to Bakersfield
Bike racks for those of us travelling with our bikes. No other cyclists on this part of the train ride, unlike last year's trip, which had several. - The train approaches the end of its route at Bakersfield
We pass an area of oil derricks. - The Amtrak bus out of Bakersfield climbs over the mountains
We pass through oak woodlands on the way over the mountains toward the Mojave Desert. - On the Amtrak bus from Bakersfield to Barstow (and then Baker)
One of many train tunnels that can be seen from the highway as the bus climbs over the mountains toward the Mojave Desert. - The Amtrak bus stops briefly at the town of Mojave, California
The wind always seems to be blowing here, as the bent trees suggest. - An old art-deco building in Mojave, California
It houses a thrift store. - Main street in Mojave, California
Looking north. - The men's washroom at Barstow Station
It's located in one of the old train cars. - Next stop on the Amtrak bus to Baker is Barstow, at "Barstow Station"
"Barstow Station" is built partially of old rail cars and is occupied by a small food court. - After leaving Barstow, heading toward Baker (and then Las Vegas afterward)
The bus passes a billboard on the freeway advertising Baker's Mad Greek restaurant 25 minutes away. - Desert hills
Along Interstate 15 between Barstow and Baker. - In Baker, I check into a tacky 1970s room at the Royal Hawaiian Motel
After dark, I go for a walk up the road for a bite to eat. - The motel pool below my balcony and Baker's skyline beyond
"The world's tallest thermometer" is the big (and only) "high-rise" in town. - Plush green carpet in my room at the Royal Hawaiian Motel
Nice wrinkles provide additional texture, in case more is needed. - A period set of drawers in my room at the Royal Hawaiian Motel
The faux-wood panelling sets the tone for the pretty painting hanging above the bed. - Shower stall in my room at the Royal Hawaiian Motel
The formica-covered walls produce a sanitary, modern feel, as intended. - Pretty curtains and dinette suite in my room at the Royal Hawaiian Motel
Another pretty painting and the faux-wood panelling on the ceiling complete the ambiance. - Up bright and early, I go for a walk up the road to the Bun Boy restaurant for breakfast
I cross the "Baker Bridge" over the wash along the way. - Close-up of the plywood sidewalk on the Baker Bridge
This undersized sidewalk is really getting worn out! - Baker Market, the town's only mom-and-pop store, carries a small vegetable selection and even propane bottles
There are franchise-style convenience stores attached to the numerous gas stations here in Baker, but they all feel pretty much the same. But Baker Market is different. Baker Market is the town's only mom-and-pop store and obviously caters to the local residents. It has a small vegetable selection, and carries items you would look for in a small town's general store--like the propane bottles I need for my "one-burner stove." - Baker's "world's tallest thermometer" registers a comfortable 61 degrees Fahrenheit this morning
I don't expect to see such cool temperatures often during the next two weeks while I'm out here, except perhaps if I make it up to some higher elevations. (Baker is situated at about 900 feet elevation.) A heat wave out here a few weeks ago had daytime temperatures in the high 90s and caused me to consider postponing or cancelling this trip if temperatures didn't drop somewhat. The building attached to the giant thermometer is currently vacant. It was formerly used as the visitor centre for the adjacent Mojave National Preserve, which has since moved to the recently restored Kelso Depot train station inside the Preserve. - Baker's lone four-way intersection has a four-way stop, which is great when you want to cross the road
Walking back to my room at the Royal Hawaiian Motel to pack up and start my trip for real. Photo taken looking up Highway 127, which will be today's ride. - The el-cheapo Royal Hawaiian Motel is overpriced for what it is, but the tackiness of the place has its own special character
The Royal Hawaiian Motel is the cheapest motel in Baker, with rooms at around $50/night. But you need to be ready for special features like clogged sinks and missing light bulbs. - A flock of birds congregates in the Royal Hawaiian's parking lot
Last year when I was here, birds were swimming in the motel swimming pool in the morning. I'm not sure why they're not there this morning. - Trees with pink blossoms in the wash under the bridge
There's even a little bit of water down there in the wash. - Back at the motel from breakfast, the bike is packed up and ready to leave Baker
Finally, off on my way! - On the way out of Baker on Highway 127
On the outskirts of Baker is one of those "next services" signs, 57 miles in this case (referring to the next gas station, which is in Shoshone). - Highway 127 isn't all that busy, but it does have a lot of big rigs driving it
The first big rig of the day passes me while I am stopped to take photos of the "next services" sign; there will be many more. - Out on the open road outside of Baker on Highway 127
Feeling free and light! - Highway 127 is rather empty once out of Baker
... for quite a few miles. A fairly strong wind is blowing against me, such that I'm barely keeping up a speed of 10 miles per hour. - Oh look, an oncoming car on Highway 127!
The rush and commotion of freeway travellers passing through Baker has been left behind. - I stop for a quick break across from the road that crosses Silver Dry Lake (very dry right now)
I don't really need a break here, only seven miles outside Baker, but I want to check to see if my cell phone still works. It does, but I know I'll be out of range shortly. - Sucking back my first lukewarm water of the trip
My water is not all that warm yet, but it's no longer cold either. No need to get excited--I have the rest of the day for my water supply to get warmer and warmer. Mmmm! - Back on Highway 127, the heat haze makes it look like there are perhaps small lakes in the distance
But, alas, there is almost no water at all up around there. - I stop at the power lines that cross Highway 127 ten miles out from Baker and am surprised that my cell phone still works
But I know it won't work for much longer, having been here before. I send one last text message. - Ooo, a curve on Highway 127 coming up
OK, now my cell phone no longer works, which is how it will be for most of the next two weeks. - One of many campers passes me on Highway 127
Several of them wave at me as they pass (this one didn't). The Dumont Dunes are starting to become visible off in the distance. - A nice little hump in the highway adds extra texture to the moment
Highway 127 begins to pass through a more mountainous area. The strong wind that was slowing me down has let up quite a bit. The day is also getting warmer, into the 80s now, I'm guessing. - Another curve in Hwy 127
In such wide open spaces, curves sometimes feel random, as if the road should just draw a straight line across the desert instead. - The exit to the Salt Creek Hills ACEC (Area of Critical Environmental Concern)
I wanted to stop when I passed here last year, but was running out of time. - I pull into the Salt Creek Hills ACEC to see what's there
There should be a bit of water here (not drinking water). - I park my bike, unlocked (there's nobody around), next to the outhouse, and go for a short hike toward Salt Creek
Some 20-25 miles outside Baker, this is a nice place for a break. - Information panel at Salt Creek Hills ACEC
Yes, there is a bit of water in the desert. - The path leading toward Salt Creek from the empty parking lot
Salt Creek is not too far around the corner behind the hill. - Salt Creek is indeed wet enough to sustain a marshy area
... right here in the dry Mojave Desert! - I climb up one of the rocky hills on the way back to the Salt Creek Hills parking lot
I watch two camper vehicles coming up Highway 127 in the distance. I could spend more time here exploring, but will return to the day's project of riding to Tecopa Hot Springs. - These hills seem to have more rock than soil
A few plants grow here nonetheless. - Looking back toward the outhouse from the rocky hill
The outhouse and information panel are just two more outcrops in this open landscape. - Back in the parking lot and ready to leave Salt Creek Hills
I'm guessing it's in the high 80s by now, if not 90 degrees. I'm still feeling well-hydrated and energetic, which is a good sign since this is my first time riding in such warm temperatures this year. - Back on Highway 127, the road begins its crossing of the valley near Dumont Dunes
After my half-hour walk through the Salt Creek Hills area, I'm back on my bike and beginning one my favourite parts of the ride on Highway 127. - Just before crossing the valley, I stop to ponder Saratoga Springs Road
Saratoga Springs is another desert wetland, located seven miles or so down this dirt road. I planned the trip so that if I am too tired to climb over Ibex Pass today, I could ride down the flat road to Saratoga Springs and camp there for the night. Riding is going well, and I don't feel like winding down yet for the day. So, I won't be visiting Saratoga Springs today, and it remains on my future-visit list. Saratoga Springs lies within the boundaries of Death Valley National Park, at its southern extremity. However, there are no signs around indicating this. The main developed area of Death Valley National Park that most tourists visit is some 75 miles north of here. - "Shoe tree" on Highway 127 across from Saratoga Springs Road
It needs to have more shoes hanging off it to be truly effective!!! Unfortunately, I have nothing today that I can contribute to this important collective work of art. - At the bottom of the valley, I pass the Dumont Dunes parking lot, which is quiet today
I'm about 30 miles outside of Baker now, with about 25 miles to go to reach today's destination, Tecopa Hot Springs. I'm at the lowest elevation of today's trip: about 425 feet. The valley is a few degrees warmer and the sun feels much hotter. I touch my black seat, and it's very warm. My handlebars feel hot. Weekends at Dumont Dunes can get quite busy, but today is a Wednesday. The dunes are popular with off-road vehicle riders and a noticeable amount of weekend traffic on Highway 127 consists of vehicles carrying or towing off-road vehicles to the dunes. - After crossing the valley, the climb up Highway 127 over Ibex Pass begins
The climb up toward Ibex Pass seems really easy at first, but gets a bit more demanding as I get going. It doesn't really even look uphill in this photo. It wouldn't be particularly challenging climb if I didn't have the added weight of my camping gear, a day's worth of water, and the hot sun on my back. - For inspiration, I look down across the valley I just crossed on the way up to Ibex Pass on Highway 127
Dumont Dunes are off to the left. Saratoga Springs Road heads off to the right in front of the mountains in the distance. I've just realized that I had the wind behind me as I rode across the valley. However, I no longer have that assistance, and am on my own again. Any overconfidence I had about how easy this little climb would be has been neutralized. - On the way up the hill is the dirt road to the old Ibex Springs mining area
Ibex Springs is another spot that I'd like to visit on one of my trips out here. It's about five miles down the dirt road, and is also inside the Death Valley National Park boundaries. Again, there are no signs indicating that I'm on the edge of Death Valley National Park. The Dzrtgrls have a very nice photo series from their 2005 car-camping trip to Ibex Springs. - Getting close to the summit at Ibex Pass. Where is it?!?!
I know it's here somewhere, around one of these corners. The meditation of the slow uphill crawl during the past few miles has set in, and I feel like I could pedal up this hill forever. But I am getting excited about reaching that next goal... - Ah, finally at Ibex Pass!
I'm happy now. The hot sun and larger-than-usual load on my bike make it feel like I've climbed more than just 1600 feet from the valley floor to reach this point at 2090 feet elevation. - A quick break at the Saddle Peak Hills Wilderness area adjacent to Ibex Pass
I eat an energy bar, suck back more warm water and walk around a little to take in the views and stretch the muscles. The 10-ton bike is parked outside the posts that mark the Saddle Peak Hills Wilderness boundary, inside of which mechanized or motorized travel is not allowed. Torn caution tape attached to the posts attempts to block vehicles from entering the wilderness area, but apparently it hasn't worked. - The nice scenery induces a pensive moment
... but reveals salt stains on my helmet straps. - Salt excretions on my skin too, not just on my helmet straps!
I'm glad I'll get a shower and a soak in the warm mineral water at Tecopa Hot Springs in a few hours. Unfortunately, one doesn't have the opportunity to shower every day on trips like these. Perhaps that's one reason why I like doing these trips solo! - The road to Giant Mine, in the Ibex Hills Wilderness area, off Hwy 127 on the descent into the Tecopa Basin
Another old mining camp that would be worth exploring one day. - Highway 127 gets ready to drop down into the Tecopa Basin from the Ibex Pass summit
Dramatic rugged mountains sit on the other side of the Tecopa Basin below. Even though I'm heading downhill, the wind against me is quite strong, so I have to keep pedalling in order to maintain my speed. The descent is neither steep nor really long; about 700 feet in elevation drop over about six miles. Just enough to be fun. - A couple of big rigs pass me as we all descend Highway 127 into the Tecopa Basin together
I should have counted how many big rigs have passed me today; probably a dozen or two. - The enjoyable descent into Tecopa Basin on Highway 127 comes to an end
Highway 127 passes alongside a series of heavily eroded hills as it nears the Old Spanish Trail Highway at about 1400 feet elevation. - Close-up of erosion along Highway 127 near Old Spanish Trail Highway
Many layers of earth are exposed. - Tecopa Hot Springs just a few miles away!
At the junction of Highway 127 and Old Spanish Trail Highway. Yes, there's a pay phone at Tecopa Hot Springs, which can be useful since cell phones don't work here. - Tecopa off in the distance
The town of Tecopa sits on the other side of Grimshaw Dry Lake in this view from Old Spanish Trail Highway. - Eroded formations along Old Spanish Trail Highway
You could build imitations of these mounds in your backyard for a fake prehistoric look. - Old Spanish Trail Highway cuts through the earth
Old Spanish Trail Highway rolls up and down across the landscape. - We pass through the village of Tecopa before heading on to Tecopa Hot Springs
The two villages are only two miles away from each other, separated by a big hill. This is the view of Tecopa as one arrives from the west on Old Spanish Trail Highway. - Entering Tecopa Hot Springs after riding over the hill from Tecopa
The early-evening sun provides a nice glow for tourists wanting to see pretty things. - I'm checked in and my tent is set up at Tecopa Hot Springs Campground
I take a camp site near the road because my favourite one down by the dry lake is occupied. I like the trees in this camp site. I'm happy for the night and go for a much-needed shower and soak in the hot tubs to soothe my tired muscles. One of the campground staff remembers me from my trip here last year, and there's also a local resident outside with whom I chatted last year. I feel at home here again, like I did last year, for some reason. I retreat to my camp site after sunset to prepare one of those instant add-water-to-pouch backpacking meals. - A gentle reminder not to drink the water at Tecopa Hot Springs campground
The water is heavily mineralized, which is a problem that can't be solved with the water purifier that I carry with me. The local piped-in water is also naturally warm. This is probably one of the few public campgrounds that has warm water in the toilets. It's also one of the few campgrounds that I've visited which doesn't supply potable water. They don't even sell large containers of water at the campground office. Fortunately, there is free water available outside the school at the village of Tecopa, two miles away, and water can be purchased at the general store and gas station in Shoshone, eight miles away. There's no moon tonight, but many stars twinkle in the black sky. - Outside the men's "cool pool" at Tecopa Hot Springs campground
I soak in both the hot pool and the cool pool this morning before heading out for Death Valley National Park. Actually, the "cool pool" is not cool at all; it's just warm, and not as hot as the "hot pool." - Inside the men's "cool pool" at Tecopa Hot Springs campground
I'm the only one heading for the "cool pool" right now (or else I wouldn't be taking this photo). - The stop sign in Tecopa Hot Springs village, looking back toward Baker
The hot tubs and campground office are to the left, the campground to the right. - Tecopa Hot Springs campground is not very busy right now
As the summer heat begins to set in during late April, Tecopa Hot Springs campground starts to empty out. - Shade in the desert
I'm enjoying a bit of morning shade at my camp site from the (non-native) athel tree near the main road. - Leaving Tecopa Hot Springs toward Death Valley
Tecopa Hot Springs Road dips down and passes through Grimshaw Dry Lake, which still has some water in it and whose grasses provides a bit of greenery in this otherwise dry landscape. - There's still some water in this end of Grimshaw Dry Lake
It's always odd to see occasional water in an area as dry as the Mojave Desert. - Just past Grimshaw Dry Lake, Tecopa Hot Springs Road heads straight toward the mountains
Just before the mountains ahead, Tecopa Hot Springs Road ends at Highway 127 and one must turn right (toward Shoshone and Death Valley) or left (toward Baker and Southern California). - The end of Tecopa Hot Springs Road at Highway 127
I turn right to head toward Death Valley. - I pass Furnace Creek Wash Road, which would be a shortcut to where I'm going today, except...
... it's a dirt road and it doesn't pass through Shoshone, where I need to stop for a big restaurant meal and fill up on water. It's the only restaurant for many, many miles. Besides, dirt roads are usually much slower than paved roads. This Furnace Creek Wash Road becomes the Greenwater Valley Road, my destination today, where it crosses Highway 178. - A car passes me as I head up Highway 127
The sign ahead reads "Entering Public Lands." It's a good quiz because there's nothing that mentions which public lands one is entering. - I enjoy passing through the badlands between Tecopa Hot Springs and Shoshone
- More of the badlands between Tecopa Hot Springs and Shoshone
The soil here is so hostile that plants are only growing in the drainage along the road. - The badlands let up as Highway 127 enters the village of Shoshone with its restaurant, post office and general store
Note the "DV" (Death Valley) tattooed into the hillside to left of the road. - The Shoshone post office and the village's market
As seen from across the road at the Crowbar Café. - Lunch at the Crowbar Café in Shoshone
A big pitcher of real, unsweetened, iced tea helps combat the heat and boost energy with its caffeine content! A double order of French fries, a juicy hamburger with lettuce, onions and tomato, and a surly waitress who is somehow enjoyable nonetheless round out the experience. - Former ranger station next door to the Crowbar Café in Shoshone
After eating lunch, I walk over here, thinking that it might be open. However, it's no longer used as a ranger station for Death Valley National Park. - The old Shoshone ranger station is built partially out of mud bricks
I wouldn't have noticed except that the exterior is quite deteriorated in some spots, revealing the mud, or whatever the material is. - Behind the old Shoshone ranger station
... sits a tiny cabin - I visit the general store in Shoshone across the road from the Crowbar Café
I replenish the ten-ton bike's water reserves, which amounts to a bit over two gallons (8-9 litres). I use use four 1.5 litre bottles (two in the pocket of each rear saddlebag), two small drinking bottles mounted to the frame, and a two-litre Camelbak "water bladder" that straps onto my back like a backpack. In preparation for the potentially dry trip ahead, I also fill my usually empty, supplementary two-gallon water bag and strap it onto the top of my rear rack with bungee cords. Whoa, the bike is suddenly really heavy! Each gallon of water weighs a bit over eight pounds (roughly 3.75 kilograms). I drink a cold Sobe grapefruit drink while I pack up, and round out my grocery order with a bottle of wine and a small loaf of date-nut bread from the China Ranch date farm and bakery. - While filling my bottles, I glance across the road at the Crowbar Café
A group of motorcyclists has stopped at the restaurant.