Home / Mojave Preserve and Desert bikepacking trips / 2007: Death Valley National Park bikepacking / Day 2: Tecopa Hot Springs to Greenwater Valley (upper Gold Valley Rd) 48
Another pleasant day in the 80s, with little traffic once I get past Shoshone and head up Highway 178. I leave pavement to ride up Greenwater Valley Rd and Gold Valley Road, I am passed only once by a car on those last 18 miles.
A breakdown slows me down and ultimately prevents me from making it all the way to Willow Spring in Gold Valley.
Starting at 1400 feet elevation at Tecopa Hot Springs, it's mostly flat through Shoshone on Highway 127. Six miles of pavement on Highway 178 take me up to about 2000 feet. Then I ride 10 miles up Greenwater Valley Road's gravel surface to about 3000 feet. The final eight miles climb up Gold Valley Road's dirt to about 4700 feet.
34.3 bicycle miles, last 18 miles, dirt/gravel road
- 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. - 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 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. - 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. - 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. - The Shoshone post office and the village's market
As seen from across the road at the Crowbar Café. - 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. - Ready to hit the road and leave Shoshone
The extra water bag is that black thing sandwiched between my sleeping bag and my hat on top of the rear rack. Death Valley, here I come. I will actually enter Death Valley National Park in a little while. - On the way out of Shoshone toward Death Valley, northbound on Highway 127
A sign announcing RV camping and tent camping is one of the last marks of habitation that I'll see today. - I begin the gentle westward climb up Highway 178 into Death Valley National Park
A bit over a mile outside Shoshone, I turn off Highway 127 onto Highway 178. "No services next 72 miles." That's why I'm carrying so much water. - My first climb of the day--Highway 178
The hill is quite gradual, but it's a hill nonetheless, a lot like yesterday's slow climb up over Ibex Pass. - Looking back down Highway 178 to verify that I really am rising
I always enjoy looking back down a hill that I'm riding up. It's somehow very rewarding to see that the work of pedalling and burning calories is actually transporting me. The Resting Spring Range (or is it a layer cake?) rests in the background at the bottom of the hill. - Death Valley National Park welcomes me
... however, there's no one around to witness the warm welcome bestowed upon me. The crest of this hill on Highway 178 sits at about 2200 feet elevation. When I left Shoshone an hour or so ago, the elevation was just under 1600 feet. - I coast down a slight hill on Highway 178 into Greenwater Valley
At the bottom of this little hill on Highway 178, I will leave pavement for the day and head up Greenwater Valley Road, aka Furnace Creek Wash Road. This is the same Furnace Creek Wash Road that I saw crossing Highway 127 near Tecopa Hot Springs. - My Greenwater Valley Road veers off to the right
Getting away from pavement in these remote areas sometimes feels like abandoning civilization. It's what people are referring to when they ask, regarding a trip like this, aren't you scared? Sure, I'm a little scared. I suppose I could stay at home in front of a television and watch horror movies to obtain a different kind of a similar adrenalin rush. - Greenwater Valley Road: watch out for wildlife, and no camping first two miles
It's a basic rule in Death Valley National Park that there is no camping allowed within two miles of any paved road, so the first two miles here are off-limits to campers. I'm at just over 2000 feet elevation right now. I have 10 miles to ride on this road before reaching my next turn-off about 1000 feet higher, which will be Gold Valley Road. - Heading very slowly up the slight grade of Greenwater Valley Road
The road is well-packed beneath the thin and sometimes slippery layer of sand and gravel on the surface. I take a break after a while, and am surprised that I'm sweating so much, since it's only about 85 degrees F today. I guess the hill and rough road surface are making me work! - Further on, I look back down into the valley where I started
I'm a few miles up Greenwater Valley Road now, having started at the bottom some 50 minutes ago. If the road were much steeper, I think I'd have problems trying to maintain traction in the gravel here with such a heavy load. - It's so lonely out here all by myself!
I only saw a couple of cars while on Highway 178, and none yet on Greenwater Valley Road. The severe silence is something worth listening to intently. I don't even hear any birds anywhere (where is that wildlife that I'm supposed to watch out for?). - I've reached a plateau area on Greenwater Valley Road
I should find Gold Valley Road, my next turn-off, somewhere in my current view. I'm not seeing it yet though. - Taking another short break, an excuse to stop and stare at the scenery
Sucking back now-warm water from my Camelbak. - I've reached the junction of Deadman Pass Road, at 3000 feet elevation
My Gold Valley Road turn-off toward the west is just half a mile beyond this point, yet I still can't see it. This photo shows Deadman Pass Road rising up over the horizon toward the east from Greenwater Valley Road. A woman in a small pick-up truck passes me in this area, the only vehicle that I've seen on Greenwater Valley Road. - Me, standing in Greenwater Valley Road at the junction of Deadman Pass Road
Highway 178, where I started a couple of hours ago, is 10 miles behind me, and 1000 feet lower. - I'm here! I start up Gold Valley Road, which heads over the mountains
There's less gravel here on Gold Valley Road, so I seem to have better traction, but I'm expecting the road to be steeper than Greenwater Valley Road. Gold Valley Road is a dead-end. It rises from 3000 feet elevation here to about 4700 feet before dropping down into Gold Valley on the other side of the mountains, where it ends near Willow Spring. There is probably drinkable (if filtered) water there. It's already getting close to 17h, and it's going to be more slow uphill on a dirt road (and I'm getting tired--imagine that!), so I don't know if I'll make it to Gold Valley or not. But the excitement keeps me pushing onward. - Gold Valley Road rises slowly across the wide valley
The road will turn sharply to the left and climb over the mountains, and I'm trying to figure out where that might be. From this vantage point, it's not apparent where a road would go over these mountains. - A surly look for the camera
I feel happy here as Gold Valley starts winding its way up through the mountains. I still can't see exactly where it's going beyond the next bend. - Gold Valley Road keeps rising
The road has already crawled up around the back of a big hill such that Greenwater Valley below is no longer visible. - Suddenly, something on my bike is rubbing and making harsh, loud noises
Upon inspection, it turns out that a bolt holding the rear rack to the bike has broken, and the rack is bouncing against the frame of the bike. I'm not entirely surprised because the baggage weight on my rack (a very strong rack from Old Man Mountain) is probably carrying much more than its recommended maximum due to today's extra two gallons of water. Fortunately, I have one extra replacement bolt for this. Removing my rear saddlebags and changing the broken bolt (which didn't want to be removed, at first--I'm glad I brought that set of pliers with me) delays me for 20-30 minutes, just as dusk approaches. Darn it... It was looking like I just might reach Willow Spring by dark, but now I know I won't. - Back on my bike after repairs, Gold Valley Road rises into an area where there has been a brush fire
I will learn a few days later that the brush fire occurred just a few nights ago (possibly caused by lightning). I'm glad I wasn't camping here when that happened! I'm a bit nervous of my bike's strength now, on a rough road like this that bounces my cargo around. I don't have another replacement bolt should my new substitute bolt also break under the weight being carried. - Close up of the burn from the Gold Valley Road fire is interesting
White residue on the ground looks like individual plants were sprayed with fire-suppressing chemicals, but that seems unlikely here in a remote area. I conclude that the white residues might come from the plants themselves as they were scorched. I'm going to camp out tonight somewhere in this ultra-lunar landscape? Hmmm... - I continue onward, trying to beat the setting sun
I already know that I won't quite reach today's destination, so I'm not sure why I'm trying so hard to get there. As I continue, I see that the fire damage is more extensive than I imagined. - There are many pockets of unburned plants within the burned area
And I'm going to set up my tent shortly amidst all this? I continue onward. - Still rising slowly, I know for sure now that I won't make it over the mountains before dark
I'm so close to the summit of Gold Valley Road, and the downhill into Gold Valley that follows. However, dusk is arriving and I prefer to set up camp before dark in an unfamiliar area. I do have a strong battery-powered headlight and can ride for a while after dark if necessary. But I'm concerned about the possibility of descending the steep hill into Gold Valley, having a second breakdown and getting stuck there, and running out of water in the middle of nowhere, with nobody around. (No, cell phones don't work here, so you can't call anyone.) When travelling in remote areas like the Mojave Desert, especially when travelling solo, concerns like these are very real and must be respected if potentially threatening circumstances arise. Willow Spring in Gold Valley probably has water, and I'm carrying a water purifier so that I can drink from places like that, but the ranger station in Shoshone was closed, so I couldn't confirm if there is water there right now or not. - Rising out of the burned area at dusk, I look for somewhere decent to set up camp for the night
I'm disappointed that I won't make it to Willow Spring tonight as hoped, and feel somewhat defeated and deflated. But I still feel much success in having made it this far into the mountains up above Death Valley. Camping out should be really nice up here at about 4700 feet. I'm expecting almost no moon in the sky tonight, and therefore, near total darkness. Given that I've only seen one other vehicle since leaving the pavement of Highway 178 some seven hours ago, I'm expecting silence and a wilderness experience tonight, even though I'm camped out along a "road." I set up camp quickly and decide not to bother preparing a meal. By the time I get to eat, it's already dark. I just eat lots of nuts and beef jerky and wash it down with a glass of wine, enjoying the silence and the darkness.