Road Access

BACKCOUNTRY ACCESS GUIDE

Remote wild country for rugged adventurous people

by Steve Greene

We have spent a great deal of time and space on The Death Valley Journal discussing many unique aspects of the Death Valley territory, from people to places to ideas to nature – touching on numerous characteristics of this enchanting realm. Much of it can be seen and experienced first-hand by the traditional tourist with a 2wd sedan, driving on pavement, and staying in hotels. Other portions however, may be beyond the reach of the masses who choose to not drive on dirt roads. This is not to say however that folks with a sense of adventure can’t access many primitive locales – standard sedans and well maintained backcountry park roads make this entirely possible.

For those who possess a strong desire to visit the most remote and challenging corners of DVNP, a trusty high clearance 4×4 vehicle will do the trick. It need not be one of those modified rigs so popular on our urban streets though. Virtually any stock 4wd vehicle will make nearly all the roads in good weather. All it requires is plenty of determination, decent planning, and common sense. Places like Echo Pass, South Park Canyon, Goler Canyon, and the Dedeckera Canyon narrows are not likely to make the list of folks whose only transportation is a standard passenger automobile, yet with a reliable four wheeler, these are on the menu.

This story is designed to offer a grand tour off the beaten path, to all the wild places that the general public will only see in books, photos, and on their digitized computer screens. In these following pages, we’ll drive most of the roads and trails inside the boundaries of Death Valley National Park, so that we will have a fair notion whether or not these places are within our personal comfort zones for visitation. We’ll travel from one end of the park to the other, hit all the little secret spots and corners, and try really hard not to miss too much in between. Experienced veteran outback travelers of DVNP may think that I forgot this or that on occasion, but hopefully I have included enough to keep everyone mentally focused and engaged.

Let’s start out with some basic background information so that we can put this incredibly wild section of Mojave Desert into proper perspective:

The scope of land area in Death Valley National Park is staggering, covering about 3,400,000 acres, or 5,219 square miles, most of which is designated wilderness. Realizing that square mileage and acreage figures may not exactly paint a tangible picture of size in the minds of many folks, I offer a couple of quick comparisons to set the stage:

Look at a map of southern California and find the delineated boundary of Death Valley National Park. Now, either with ruler or using hand and fingers as guides, transfer that area southwest on the map to the coastal region. Here’s what we notice when doing this odd little exercise: This national park, the largest outside of Alaska, covers an area roughly equivalent to one that encompasses Tijuana, Mexico at the state’s southern border, up through San Diego, north past Los Angeles, and stopping just shy of Santa Clarita, California on Interstate 5. Width-wise, from the Pacific Ocean on the west, the area would reach nearly to the city of San Bernardino in the Inland Empire.

For those who may not be familiar with southern California, let’s look at a few more quick examples before we move on. The state of Connecticut on the east coast covers 4,872 square miles, meaning that it is 347 square miles smaller than Death Valley National Park. To visualize that size difference, let us picture in our minds a piece of ground that is perfectly square, with roughly 18.6 miles length on each of the four sides. If we were to drive completely around the perimeter of this square piece of ground, we’d cover a little more than 75 miles. That’s how much larger DVNP is than Connecticut. Interestingly, Delaware covers 1,933 square miles, and Rhode Island is 1,054 square miles. Death Valley National Park is 2,232 square miles larger than both of those states combined.

Here are two more quirky visionary treats: Inside the area of Death Valley National Park we could place Washington D.C. nearly 83 times. Additionally, three Death Valley National Parks equal one Switzerland, that small alpine country in Europe. Now let us move on towards the core focus of this story.

As we have just learned, Death Valley National Park is truly a gigantic place of colossal proportions! Considering that roughly 95 percent of this land area is wild backcountry, approximately 3,158,038 acres, it becomes apparent that a guide to accessing all this wonderful natural world is a must for inclusion within these pages. Thus, the birth of this story! For even more detailed knowledge in certain areas, there are a number of outstanding Death Valley National Park books already in print that will provide all the information anyone might seek. When contemplating the enormity of this national park, it also becomes rather obvious that backroads and hiking routes will factor heavily into visiting most of DVNP, as the pavement leaves much untouched territory to explore.

Although the typical explorer to this region can visit quite a few popular attractions via pavement and standard automobile, the most complete experience, where we become one with the land, is gained primarily by driving the dirt and hiking the earth. A four wheel drive vehicle is an added bonus in our attempt to truly bond with this legendary land, for the incomprehensible expanses of terrain and the distances involved in getting here are virtually out of reach to any but the most extreme pedestrians … like Helen Thayer, Dr. Ben Jones, and Michel Digonnet for instances (refer to earlier encyclopedia entries). Even the most dedicated hikers must involve a vehicle at some point to find their sweet secret spots and set off on foot. Many of us prefer not to pollute the air with exhaust, yet this practice continues to figure into our national lifestyles for the time being.

There exist in DVNP roughly 900 miles of dirt roadways that are verifiable on detailed maps and through experience driving the ones that do not appear on maps. We can literally hike for a lifetime if we include established paths and cross country routes. My experience out here has always shown many other spur roads exist that are never revealed on paper, and we can most certainly expect to find them as we explore, often to our vexation as we don’t know which way to turn at an unmarked and unmapped intersection. Even with three maps, intuitive reconnoitering then becomes an essential tool to aid our navigation as we progress ever deeper into the wilds. I recommend always carrying a compass while traveling.

That said, this story will be a general discussion mostly about the backroads and hiking trails to the history and geology of Death Valley National Park. This story will also be a somewhat lengthy affair, because when one sets out to describe this vast an area, it simply cannot be done in any manner resembling the quick fix that our American society has come to seek. It is assumed that anyone reading this story is not cut of the same cloth as the average city-bound Terran, but rather one who relishes living life completely, and taking time to explore the natural surroundings in the detail necessary for the total experience. Nature teaches us patience.

The encyclopedic entries provide a brief description of many of the roads and trails, yet may leave the serious backcountry explorer wanting more information. I would like to take a moment and recommend a couple of excellent books that may assist in remote backcountry experiences.

A book by veteran Death Valley explorer Michel Digonnet provides an abundance of useful direction. It is called Hiking Death Valley, a Guide to its Natural Wonders and Mining Past. In the 552 page book, Michel describes most of the backroads, hiking trails, and hiking areas to be found in DVNP, along with engaging stories about history and geology. He is exceptionally detailed in his text, leaving very little to chance, and discusses nearly 300 hikes throughout the park. By necessity, any roads needed to access these hiking areas are also detailed. An added plus is that Michel used a small 2wd sedan in the majority of his hiking adventures, so we have the perspective from a man who did not require a 4wd vehicle. For understanding Death Valley backcountry access in the utmost detail, I feel this book is the benchmark authority. If one had to choose a single publication to have along on the trip, Michel’s book is a worthy selection.

Another very useful book comes to us from Roger Mitchell, a long-time driver of the backroads. Roger grew up in Trona, so came to know this area in great detail over the years. It is called Death Valley SUV Trails, A Guide to 40 Interesting Four-Wheeling Excursions in the Death Valley Country. It is a fine choice to include in a personal Death Valley library, especially if one prefers to remain on 4wd roads. In it, he tells in detail how to reach some of the backcountry ghost towns and wild places via dirt roadways. Roger also reveals historic and geologic points of interest along the way, adding two more dimensions. Be sure to read Roger’s story called 12 Excursions, which appears here on DVJ. In it, he provides even more details of where to explore in this marvelously wild landscape, perhaps picking up some areas that I hit sparingly.

The two of these books provide a comprehensive knowledge of where we can go, what we can see, and how we will manage to get there. Since accessing the wildest of Death Valley locales for most folks often necessitates a dirt road somewhere in the process, in this story I will address primarily DVNP roadways, with side notes on hiking opportunities. Everyone who comes here does so in an automobile of some type, while a relatively small percentage will actually take off on foot for long distances, thus my emphasis on roadways over foot travel (even though I am an avid hiker personally). The goal of this story is to reach the majority of readers – it is a compromise given the scope and parameters of this publication.

Michel and Roger are both meticulous about providing turn-by-turn mileages in their books, so I shall not do so here, as it would require many additional pages. My intent is just to give impressions on what some of the more popular roads are like, where they will take us, what to watch out for while on them, and enough information so that we can make informed decisions as to whether we would want to drive them. Not all road spurs will be discussed for three reasons: 1) it would require too many pages to do so, 2) I have not personally driven every last one of them, and 3) there may a few of which I am not aware.

For those who do choose to make the trip to some of the best attractions described here, purchase Tom Harrison’s excellent Death Valley National Park Recreation Map, Michel Digonnet’s hiking book, and Roger Mitchell’s backroad book – among these three outstanding resources, all of which are available through the Death Valley Natural History Association, an explorer should be all set! My recommendation is that the more primitive dirt backroads (challenging) be driven in a stock high clearance 4wd vehicle, just to be on the safe side, even though many of the roads can be successfully navigated in a sedan if the weather is good, if we have a strong sense of adventure, and if we keep common sense paramount in our decisions. Weather is always a significant force in our safety!

I tend to make my recommendations on the safe side, as I do not want a family to become stranded on a questionable road. Michel points out in his book that he has driven to most of the hiking locales in a 2wd sedan, and I agree with his assessment that a 4wd vehicle may not be needed on many of the dirt backroads. I will reiterate however that the driver should possess a strong sense of adventure and common sense if opting to see how far  a particular dirt road can be driven in a sedan. If we are ever in doubt, we should not attempt a particular traverse. This primal country I am about to describe is just too far away from help of any kind to take unnecessary risks.

By the way, the NPS map called Death Valley Backcountry Roads has great road descriptors on the reverse side. The only drawback to this map (at least the one I currently have) is that the topographical underlay is offset from where the roads actually exist, by about a half inch, so the road is shown on the topo in terrain that does not accurately reflect reality. As one example, the Indian Ranch Road in the Panamint Valley is shown going across the tops of impassible Panamint Mountain crests, instead of in the flat valley where it really is. By the time you read this, the National Park Service may well have corrected this issue with a new map digitization. I have found that the online version of this map is accurate in this regard, and it is a printable PDF file, so it can be printed right at home before departure. Of course, this document is in color and much larger than standard paper, so it might not print full size on a standard printer setup. Study the copy to see if the version is the newest.

Please keep in mind a somber thought if choosing to come out here and explore this extreme wild countryside. In this territory, we are many hours and miles away from assistance of any kind (perhaps days if on foot), which means that this is no place to take lightly! A breakdown out here might just be our last. I’m not trying to sound discouraging, but realistic. Our first line of defense is painstaking preparation before we come, and letting others know where we’ll be (as close as possible anyway, considering the overwhelming distances out here). If we experience a medical emergency while in the outback, we will have to handle it ourselves! If possible, bring another explorer in a second vehicle as insurance for everyone’s safety.

Please also carry a book onboard that will help in an emergency survival situation, such as: Desert Survival Handbook, How to Prevent and Handle Emergency Situations by Charles A Lehman. Not only does Charles explain how to survive, he also offers valuable rationale as to why there is no cause for panic. His book is available through the Death Valley Natural History Association. Bottom line: Come well prepared so that this grand stage of geology and history may be explored safely with confidence.

The challenge of a story like this one is deciding how to arrange it. I have seen it done using an alphabetical listing of roads and trails, which is a great method for folks who already have a fair knowledge of the names of the roads and trails in the area they want to visit. This may not be the most efficient manner for the greenhorns who just are looking for a couple of easy dirt roads or hiking trails to experience the region around Furnace Creek however. Keep in mind also that many dirt roads out here don’t even have names.

Another method of arranging this story could be by roadway difficulty level. This would group the easy roads in one section, the moderate roads in another, and the most difficult pathways by themselves. Again, this is fine for a particular audience looking for that array, but still not as useful for someone using a specific place for a basecamp. Part of the problem with this system is that the reader may not really know under which heading the road near his camp is located. It also involves the subjective judgment of the road and trail reviewer.

Considering these thoughts, I’ve chosen to lead this discussion based on location of the dirt road and trails, so that if we are exploring the ghost towns and geology of the southern reaches of Death Valley National Park, we will know in what general portion of this story the road will fall. Of course, a map in front of us while reading is a big help, especially if we are new to the region. This one-way conversation will not be alphabetical, nor will it be based on difficulty rating. When I speak of the roads and trails around the Saline Valley for example, they will include the easy Grapevine Canyon road right along side the difficult Lippencott road. And all of these roads are the best kind of course – those without human paving applied.

All the roads and trails will be contained within the Death Valley National Park boundaries unless otherwise specified. Keep in mind that not all locations and roads have commonly associated names that can be found on maps, so on occasion, I may simply refer to a region or road based my personal idea of what it could be called. Unless otherwise noted, all roads are in the State of California. There is one quite large section in the northern half of DVNP called the Nevada Triangle, with roadbed entries only in Nevada.

Allow me one more quick, but critical, caveat here: All generalized descriptions are based on dry weather! If it is raining, or threatening rain, please reconsider traveling any of these roads. Flash floods can catch us unaware, and have been known to kill visitors unlucky enough to be in one’s path. Matt Jones’ on this DVJ weblog graphically reveals what can happen when streams and rivers rise. Take this all very seriously please. Use exceptional judgment regarding potentially adverse weather events, and turn around if necessary. Do not become a stranded statistic or add to the visitor death toll.

It may prove useful and entertaining to have Google Earth software running on the computer while reading this story. An old friend of mine has followed my prior adventures in my first book by using Google Earth, and told me that he had quite a bit of fun doing it. With this software program, which is a free download on the Google internet website, we can see graphically from a space satellite all the places that will be described shortly. Even the Telescope Peak hiking trail is totally visible!

All right, let’s start our virtual tour in the south and work our way north. I will be breaking the park down into eight geographically definable regions of discussion. Each region will vary in square mileage, and be readily defined based on what can be easily seen on a good map of Death Valley National Park (such as those provided by Tom Harrison, Automobile Club, or the NPS). The periphery of each region will be delineated by a combination of roadways (both paved and dirt), geographical features, and Death Valley National Park boundary lines. These eight regions have been subjectively created based on a visual examination of the maps. They are quickly observable if we have a map in front of us. In fact, if we don’t have a map handy, this story will be of little use, unless we have the Death Valley National Park geography very well memorized. The eight geographical regions (south to north), along with the approximate total miles of dirt roadbeds in each, follow:

Region:                                                     Dirt Road Mileage:

1.       OWLSHEAD MOUNTAINS              115

2.       GREENWATER VALLEY                117

3.       SOUTHERN PANAMINTS              190

4.       FUNERAL MOUNTAINS                 53

5.       NEVADA TRIANGLE                        70

6.       GRAPEVINE MOUNTAINS           100

7.       NORTHERN PANAMINTS             112

8.       SALINE RANGE                                   155

Mileages listed are approximate, predominantly reflecting roads that are found inside the park boundaries. Roads that have been administratively closed or destroyed by natural causes are not included. The defining borders of each region will be outlined at the commencement of each section. Please consult other pages on the DVJ or other websites for specific details of anything of particular interest, as this story only establishes the attractions geographically, and does not tell much about them.

REGION ONE: OWLSHEAD MOUNTAINS & HINTERLANDS

Our first area of virtual exploration on this grand backcountry tour will be in the extreme southern portion of the park, in other words, from the southern border of the park, along the Fort Irwin military reservation, north to Ashford Junction (not Ashford Mill), which is situated on the southernmost DVNP portion of Highway 178. Picture an imaginary horizontal line running due east/west along the same latitude as the Ashford Junction for the northern boundary. The western and eastern borders to this region are delineated by DVNP boundary lines. The largest geographical feature in this region is the Owlshead Mountains, containing Lost Lake, Owl Lake, and the main canyons of Talc, Contact, Granite, and Through. The southern-most tip of the Panamint Range also squeezes in a significant showing on the western side. From the air, the Owlshead Mountains look like an owl’s face, with the two lakes forming the eyes. On a map from above, this territory roughly approximates the shape of Oklahoma state. There are roughly 115 miles of dirt roadways in this region.

This area covers about 680 square miles, or approximately 13 percent of Death Valley National Park, so it is quite expansive. Even though this is in the southern portion, we will not find too much traffic in the large swath of land because only dirt roads permit access to this region, which is largely roadless – so if we enjoy lots of solitude, this is a good choice. Most travelers enter the national park on pavement, with only a precious few entering on the remote Harry Wade road. Many old mining camps exist all over these mountains, and provide great destinations for the serious hiker.

The Harry Wade road starts at Highway 127, and is readily recognizable by a large monolithic concrete sign with a steel engraving on it. The first twelve miles or so are wide and well graded, and can be driven in virtually any automobile (what I call class-1). Please refer to the “Road Rating” page for descriptors. A little over six miles in from 127, a lesser road cuts off north to Saratoga Springs, a worthwhile place to see. The spring is about 4 miles north, and the road deteriorates slightly to class-2, with a few sandy silt crossings. Maintain a steady speed over these soft sections – they are visible on approach. As we travel over them, a huge plum of fine silt fills the air behind our vehicles, which can be seen for miles.

This southern region was mined for talc, clay based minerals, and manganese. There are numerous abandoned mining operations all over out here, and if we have a detailed map like Tom Harrison’s or the AAA map, many of these mines are listed. On the road to Saratoga Springs, there is a cutoff to the right that takes us over Ibex Pass and back to Highway 127, about 13 miles north of where we left it at the Harry Wade sign. This road has a “deep sand” warning sign at the junction. It has been my experience that these sand warning signs tend to be on the overly cautious side, but keep in mind that everyone’s backcountry travel abilities vary, so this is a good thing. It would not be wise for someone in a luxury sedan to attempt the road. Off of this road we will find another remote dirt road that leads us north up Buckwheat Wash, past Ibex Spring. This road dead-ends at the Ibex Wilderness Area.

The road out to the microwave tower on the southwestern arm of the Owlshead Mountains, near the extreme southwest corner of the park, is very easy, hard packed and graded for quite a ways. It is called the Owl Hole Spring road, and about nine miles west of where it leaves the Harry Wade road, a short dead-end spur about six miles long allows access to the Black Magic manganese mine, but this road rises to class-3 in difficulty, perhaps more depending on the year. I recommend at minimum a high clearance 2wd truck on these backroads, with a 4wd always a safer bet just in case something unexpected like a bad washout pops up.

Once we get to the military gate on the Owl Hole Spring road, the public road turns off northwest, and degrades slightly. If we should unwisely decide to continue on west through the unlocked military gate, we must keep in mind that our government has pre-authorized deadly force to deal with illegal trespassers (a sign farther on will confirm this chilling thought). Due to the sheer remoteness of this locale, I reiterate the logic for a high clearance vehicle (read Matt’s story for justifications). Washouts from flood waters can occur any year, and even a moderate one could prove very problematic with a sedan, leaving us stranded very far from any help of any kind. A 4wd vehicle however, should have little to no problem at all, even if we are new to this backcountry exploring. Overall, this is easy territory for backroad training.

That is, of course, unless we happen to be on the Harry Wade road where it crosses the Amargosa River during a high water year. The Black Mountains are to the east of this valley, and the Owlshead Mountains to the west. Usually, this river is underground, surfacing in places like Saratoga Springs, but where the road crosses it, about ten miles northwest as the crow flies, we can get stuck if it’s wet. During dry times, we would never even guess we are navigating a river crossing – it’s just a bit sandy in this spot. The Harry Wade road has sandy portions, but nothing I would call problematic for a stock backcountry vehicle. On the good days (most of the time), we can make it from Ashford Junction all the way to Highway 127 in a street sedan if we are experienced driving dirt roads.

If we have come to this region for hiking, other than pathways like the dedicated trail to the mining operations at Saratoga Springs, we will be hiking cross country on virgin ground. I might suggest a hike in to Owl Lake, which is sometimes full of water on wet years, if we don’t mind a long walk (about five miles one way from the Owl Hole Spring Road). Hiking in this southern portion will consist of long distances of mostly natural settings, as the mining relics are far and few between out here. If close proximity to two huge military reservations diminishes one’s natural world ambiance, I might suggest another region. It all feels normal until we reach the chain link fence with its red and white warning signs, and then read the signs a little farther on past the gate. At that point, we realize this is not just lonely virgin desert – we may well be under surveillance.

If military fences and authority don’t bother us, and we really love to hike a lot, a worthwhile trek could be southwest up Wingate Wash towards Wingate Pass. A good starting point might be at the Ashford Mill on Highway 190, or somewhere on the southernmost portion of the West Side Road. To make this hike, which is about 17 miles to the restricted military area, would likely mean a backpack and overnight. We can’t get to the pass itself anymore, because it has been forever closed by the U.S. Navy, but we can walk on the route that the fabled twenty mule team took back in the 1880s. If we are not into long desert wash walks, views of this legendary wash can be had from the road that accesses the large microwave tower on the southwestern tip of the Owlshead Mountains, coming in from the Harry Wade road.

I might mention here that there are a couple of other class-3 dirt roads that branch off the Harry Wade road that allow us to access the Avawatz Mountains south of the park. The first is not quite two miles in from Highway 127 at Harry’s concrete sign, and it heads southwest about five miles to the Sheep Creek mine. The other is a little over seven miles in from the pavement, or about a mile and a half west of the cutoff to Saratoga Springs. This one is over six miles up a mountain canyon, past Denning Spring, and finally ending at the Fort Irwin military reservation.

Continuing north on the Harry Wade road, we pass the old Confidence Mill camp on the left side (at the southern end of the Confidence Hills), and eventually emerge from the wilds onto paved Highway 178 at a place called Ashford Junction. Turning left and heading northwest here will take us to Badwater and Furnace Creek. Turning right and heading east will take us way up and over Jubilee and Salsberry Passes to the secluded and serene Greenwater Valley, a not-so-serene place during days of yore when young mavericks thought they’d get rich from mining inexhaustible lodes of copper, except that these lodes didn’t really exist.

REGION TWO: GREENWATER VALLEY & HINTERLANDS

Let’s now move northeast into the Greenwater Valley area, another very secluded and peaceful region with beautiful views, many mountains, and easy driving. When I say “easy driving” I am assuming some backroad experience on the driver’s part with either a high clearance 2wd vehicle or a stock 4wd vehicle. Nothing in here requires frightening travel, which makes it a perfect hidden countryside to get away from the traditional paved highway crowds! Two wheel drive is all that’s necessary most of the time in this valley, unless we wish to access Gold Valley to the west.

I define this locale using Highway 178 from the tiny town of Shoshone, westward to Ashford Mill and Junction as the southern boundary. The western boundary is  Highway 178 as it leaves Ashford Junction and travels northward through Death Valley, passing Badwater and ending at Furnace Creek. The eastern boundary line is formed by the easternmost border of Death Valley National Park, and continues northwest on Highway 190 in the Furnace Creek Wash to Furnace Creek Visitor Center. On a map from above, this area resembles a colossal stone arrowhead, pointing towards the northwest. The main geographic features of this region are the Greenwater Range on the eastern side, the Greenwater Valley in the center, and the southern tip of the Amargosa Range and Black Mountains on the western side. There are roughly 117 miles of dirt roadways in this region.

Estimating square mileage here is quite a bit more difficult, as the shape is not readily defined by perpendicular lines as is the Owlshead Mountains region. Judging from the maps I consult, this arrowhead seems slightly smaller, so if we estimate around 600 square miles, then this backcountry would consume approximately 11.5 percent of the park. Let’s keep track of these percentages as we go and see how it all adds up once we reach the northern park borders. So far, we have 24.5 percent of the area accounted for, with roughly 1,280 square miles to this point. Calculating these numbers, of course, is not necessary for our backcountry exploration enjoyment by any means, but it provides a fun mental challenge for those of us who may seek it.

For a bit more fun before proceeding, let’s review the graphic imagery so far, which, experts say, is essential for long term memory association. What we have to this point, if looking down from a vantage point above the map, is a shape similar to the State of Oklahoma (Region One) with a gigantic tilted arrowhead resting on Oklahoma’s northeastern side, pointing northwest. We wouldn’t see this if in an airplane flying over the land because political boundary lines are merely imaginary human attempts at defining possession, and don’t really exist on our physical planet.

Right down the middle of the arrowhead is the Greenwater Valley road, named such by yours truly, as the National Park Service (or some governmental entity anyway) refers to it on a street sign at its southern terminus as the Furnace Creek Road (if I recall properly, that is – I only paid any attention to it on one of my trips through here). This road’s beginning is only about seven miles from the tiny town of Shoshone.

It is nearly 30 miles of pleasant dirt road through the Greenwater Valley, and over 4,050-foot Greenwater Summit, up to where we will hit pavement again, at the road that takes the average pavement-based tourists up to spectacular Dante’s View. Might as well mention here that while in this arrowhead area, don’t miss Dante’s View – there are precarious hiking trails at the breezy summit, with breathtaking views that we won’t want to miss (and photograph). Dante’s View provides the most often seen photos of Death Valley proper, with a view looking northwest across the salt flats 5,757 very steep feet way below! Absolutely spectacular, and worth the time spent!

So, what can we access in the arrowhead? As far as mining towns and camps are concerned, there are a number to visit, including the main ones of Furnace, Kunze, Greenwater, and Gold Valley. The first three are easy to access in any 4wd vehicle with even an inexperienced backroad driver, while the fourth requires a little skill with vehicle maneuvering. Cross country mountain hiking is superb in here if we are extraordinarily fit and very well prepared for long uncharted distances. It’s not a hiking area for greenhorn pedestrians.

The three copper mining burgs of Furnace, Kunze, and Greenwater rest peacefully on the eastern slope of the southern Amargosa Range, on the west side of the Greenwater Valley. These old camps do not appear on my most recent version of the free NPS map that every visitor receives, but they have been included in the newly published NPS Backcountry Roads map. They also appear on Tom Harrison’s map, along with the Automobile Club map. The towns are on short spur roads that take off the main Greenwater Valley road, not far north of the 4,050-foot road summit. Some portions of these side roads could rise to class-3 level, which might prove problematic for a standard passenger auto, but should pose no real issue to anyone with common sense. Most of the roads in the arrowhead are mild class 1 and 2.

On the eastern side of the dirt road, across from the southern exit to Greenwater, is a canyon that empties out into this valley called Greenwater Canyon. Not long ago, we could drive our vehicles through it, past the Lida C. Mine on the old Petro Road, and come out on paved Highway 127, just south of Death Valley Junction. It was about a fifteen mile stretch of total isolation through a canyon with petroglyphs. About ten miles of this road are outside the DVNP boundary, and are still drivable from the highway side to the east, but when we reach the DVNP line, further travel is prohibited nowadays. Unfortunately, from what I understand anyway, vandals have been the reason for this closure as the NPS attempts to protect irreplaceable historic artifacts that suffered damage at the hands of uncaring and destructive people.

A well kept secret in the arrowhead is Gold Valley, one of my favorite spots to get away from it all. Ten miles north of the Greenwater Valley road’s southern entrance, a modest two-track class-2 road takes off into the hills to the west, meandering through the creosote bushes into the wrinkled heights of the Black Mountains. In roughly seven miles, the road, which has deteriorated to class-3 level, reaches a summit, and then descends into the magical and hidden Gold Valley. This is the only vehicular access point, which virtually assures we can’t get lost in this secluded and secret hollow, even though side roads might otherwise indicate. The road’s western terminus is at Willow Spring, from which we can hike down an extremely rough canyon along Willow Creek, and onto the floor of Death Valley just north of Mormon Point. Such a hike is only for the rugged however – expect scratches from bushes and face challenging dryfalls on the unmarked route.

Gold Valley offers great solitude, especially during the week. Few folks make it out this far from the perceived safety of pavement. There is a little spur road on the southern portion of this Gold Valley loop road that deadends in a tiny stone alcove that is absolutely perfectly cozy for the ideal overnight camp, but please don’t let this secret out either, else everyone rushes out here to enjoy it. We can do some fine hiking at the end of the day after we have set camp here and had our dinners. Expect to take grand and relaxed pleasure in a great evening with a truly wild natural setting!

The other major dirt road worthy of mention in the arrowhead is the Deadman Pass road, a fourteen mile class-2 affair that takes us from Greenwater Valley and over Deadman Pass, ultimately emptying us out of the park onto Highway 127, not far south of Death Valley Junction (where Marta Becket has performed her ballet shows for many years at the historic Amargosa Opera House and Hotel). There are a lot of small washed out gullies that run across this stretch of roadbed every once in a while, so keep vehicle speed slow to avoid any nasty surprises. I would not classify this road as challenging for most folks in a 4wd vehicle, unless of course, as with other roads, it’s raining heavily – then all bets are off because flash flooding could make it problematic.

Deadman Pass is 3,263 feet in elevation, a cool reprise if we have been in Death Valley on a hot day. Not surprisingly perhaps, I have never once spotted the dead guy up here, so someone must have buried him long ago. This is a very pleasant and secluded departure from the crowds.

Two class-3 roads are accessible in the southwestern curve of the arrowhead. One goes up Ashford Canyon to the Ashford mine, and the other is a very short spur atop Jubilee Pass. Both of these roads are accessed from paved Highway 178. The Ashford Canyon road is historic because at the end of the road is the mine that the Ashford brothers so diligently worked, and then took the minerals down to their mill, which is now visible and accessible on Highway 178, just west of where the Harry Wade road heads south. Oh, and while we are right here, we must look over to our west to see geographically significant Shoreline Butte. This is the mountain that verifies a huge lake used to fill Death Valley, and we will see the shoreline erosion markings that reveal a declining water level over time. This is a fascinating place to go see on foot, along with nearby Split Cinder Cone.

Now, there are a couple of other dirt roads in the northwestern point of the arrowhead that need mentioning, along with some fantastic hiking opportunities for normal people that don’t want to scale dryfalls or get tangled in overgrown thickets like Willow Spring.

Just north of Badwater on paved Highway 178 (commonly called the Badwater road), we notice a sign for Natural Bridge, and see a wide graded dirt road going up into the western canyons of the mountains. In a mile and a half is a parking area, from which we can hike farther up an easy canyon to see what water and erosion does to rock formations. This attraction can be accessed by any vehicle, so there is little reason not to see it.

Due north of Natural Bridge, on the northeastern edge of the arrowhead’s point, is Twenty Mule Team Canyon, also drivable by any sedan if it’s dry (a pretty good bet most of the time). It is graded dirt, one way, and just under three miles long. If we want some remarkable “badland” photographs, we must drive through here to get them! We will have to probably go through more than once – the first time to get a visual overview, the second time to stop with the camera, and any subsequent times in case cars behind pressured us to keep moving when we wanted to stop. Mornings or afternoons may be preferred for darkened and exaggerated shadow formations in the barren wrinkles.

And for hikers, the tip of the arrowhead is pure delight, as a main trail connects Zabriskie Point to Golden Canyon, and also allows views of incredible Red Cathedral. Morning and evening walks on this five mile path will prove digitally fruitful. Red Cathedral is beautiful when the light is right. Hiking access to the canyons of the Black Mountains is as easy as parking, either in Death Valley or Greenwater Valley, donning our hiking gear, and taking off into the hills. Come prepared though, because some of these routes south of the point are undefined, meaning cross country most of the way.

REGION THREE: SOUTHERN PANAMINTS & HINTERLANDS

This is a very large region, with the overwhelming geography consisting of the central and southern portions of the Panamint Range, and to a lesser extent, the Death Valley salt flats. To define its contents, let’s begin again at the Ashford Mill on Highway 178. The eastern boundary line is formed by Highway 178 as it runs up the eastern edge of Death Valley, through the Furnace Creek Visitor Center, and as far north as the intersection that turns southwest towards Stovepipe Wells Village. The northwestern boundary is formed by Highway 190 as it runs from this intersection, through Stovepipe Wells, over Towne Pass, through the Panamint Valley and Panamint Springs Resort, to where it exits the park at the southern Saline Valley road. From there, the western boundary line of this region follows the DVNP border south, back to where the imaginary northern line of the Owlshead Mountain area (Region One) is. Southern boundary is shared with the Owlshead’s northern boundary. There are roughly 190 miles of dirt roadways in this region.

My rough estimation for the area is 1,050 square miles, or 20.1 percent (one fifth) of the park’s total area. All right, to update these ongoing figures here, considering the first two regions, we are now up to 2,330 square miles, or almost 44.6 percent of the park’s total area. Looking at the map, it could be somewhat less, but we’re  probably in the ballpark at least.

What backcountry treasures can be accessed in this region? Well, quite a few. To begin the discussion of this huge region, let’s consider that the lowest walkable land in North America currently finds its existence here, in the form of Badwater Basin. This has to be among the most popular destinations in DVNP, accessible by sedan on Highway 178, but then requiring about eight miles of roundtrip hiking to get 282 feet below sea level and back to our cars. Who doesn’t want to brag that they have stood here? For about a hundred years, folks thought they were standing on the lowest ground in the Western Hemisphere, until that issue was finally put to rest. Even so, we will still read it on plenty of websites and in books already published, including a rare occasional blurb found in NPS literature.

The main dirt road in Death Valley is the West Side Road, a thirty-five mile graded class-1 that allows easy access to a whole host of incredible geology and history. Although a high clearance vehicle is always the preferred choice on dirt, a standard passenger car can drive this dirt byway much of the time when the weather is dry. Most of the road is very smooth driving. This road will allow nearly anyone to make a day long loop around one of the most legendary spots in all of America, a foreboding and austere lake of dried salt that forever is ingrained in our collective imaginations. Let’s make the loop, and examine some side road options on the way!

Starting on the northern end of the West Side Road, we cross the Devil’s Golf Course, where cameras are always seen on nearly every explorer. About five miles in, we notice a long road heading up the alluvial fan to the west, and ultimately disappearing into the rocky Panamint Range, which borders the western side of Death Valley. It used to be that we could drive up Trail Canyon all the way to Aguereberry Point, and then down the other side to Emigrant Pass, but nature tossed in an event that ended that vehicular trip. We can still proceed about ten miles up to the Tarantula Mine however before having to turn around. Trail Canyon ranges in difficulty to class-3, with the initial portion up the bajada quite bumpy, slow, and unpleasant for most folks. Once we get into the canyon itself, things smooth out some, but depending on our personal tolerances for rough roads, we may or may not enjoy it. We could take a standard sedan up this road a fair distance, but I would advise thinking twice.

Heading farther south on the West Side, we come to Tule Spring and Shorty’s Well, and are now able to look due east across to Badwater on the other side of the briny salt flat. We may even notice mirages out here. If water is filling Badwater Basin from heavy rains, nice photos of the Amargosa Range reflecting can be had. At Shorty’s Well, Hanaupah Canyon takes off west into the Panamints as did Trail Canyon earlier, but Hanaupah is rockier, rougher, and more effort to drive. Directly above the road’s end in the canyon is Telescope Peak, towering thousands of feet overhead. If we are here in the winter, which is a very pleasant time of year way down here, Telescope is likely buried in snow as we look up at it. The drive to the end of the road is just over eight miles, unless it has been washed out and stops us sooner. My personal experience has shown that Hanaupah Canyon is the roughest of the eastern Panamint canyons, but of course, that can change depending on the year and weather … nothing is certain out here in these wild lands! We will never know until we go.

Farther south, we come across some very notable landmarks, the first being the remains of the Eagle Borax Works that belonged to troubled Isadore Daunet in the early 1880s. A few miles south is the world-famous spot where the Bennett-Arcan party of gold seekers became stranded for many days. All these historic locales have appropriate signage erected by the National Park Service, so we are sure to find them quite easily. This is a great loop drive to make for history buffs, because we can actually stand in these places and contemplate what happened here so long ago in an era quite unlike today.

Next stop is at the intersection of Johnson Canyon, near the western end of which William Johnson had his fruit and nut ranch and where Shoshone Chief Hungry Bill later lived up in the mountains. A great three mile hike (round trip) can be taken at the canyon’s end to personally see the artifacts remaining of this abandoned ranch. I highly recommend this hike to the physically fit adventurer. It can be challenging at times, not only on our bodily systems, but also just finding the trail as it winds through thickets, crosses streams, and makes a few forks requiring our reckoning to stay on course. Stay right where the main canyon splits half way up. Start early to avoid the heat if the day is sunny. There are a lot of large shade trees on the ranch property where we can seek refuge from the warm rays before our descent. Other less defined hikes are also available up here.

Johnson Canyon is a rugged and remote, a perfect place for those of us seeking peace and quiet from the burdens of our stressful world. Camping overnight at the western end of Johnson Canyon is a unique thrill due to all the wonderful wildlife that keeps us company all night long. If we like the songs of frogs, crickets, and birds, this is the perfect camp due to its stream, associated wet areas, and trees. Bats come out in the evening and we may even hear a burro if we are lucky.

About five miles farther south on the West Side Road are two more canyons worth an exploratory trip. Galena Canyon comes first, and after a relatively short and easy five and a half miles, we see the well preserved remains of the White Eagle Talc Mine. The Pfizer Pharmaceutical Company once operated mines in here. There are also several short spur roads off the main trail that head up to mines, but these little roads are more difficult to navigate, calling for 4wd. The next side road is short, straight, and easy, and takes us to the Queen of Sheba mine four miles up the alluvium.

Our next potential deviation from the West Side Road comes nearly eight miles south of the Queen of Sheba road, at the intersection of the Warm Spring Canyon road. If we turn right here, high adventure is in our immediate future, for this road has many twists, turns, and spurs to incredible places, and if we follow it far enough, we’ll even leave Death Valley National Park and exit into the Panamint Valley on the other side of the Panamint Range. This is the only dirt road that still crosses the Panamints from one valley to the other. Up here, we will experience Butte Valley, Striped Butte, Anvil Spring, Mengel Pass, and if we traverse the summit and head down the other side, we can wander up Sourdough Spring way to see the infamous Charles Manson hideout (if it’s not being investigated for more buried bodies, that is).

Let’s take a few minutes here to explore this region before returning to the West Side Road and our loop trip: Turning west on the Warm Spring road, we head up the alluvial fan on a fairly wide and graded road for about ten miles before reaching the Warm Spring mine. There are many photogenic mining relics just off the left side of the road here, and at one time, workers even swam in a nice swimming pool in the area. Past here, the road deteriorates to class-2 mostly, with a little class-3 as it becomes twistier through tighter canyon areas. For those with a powerful sense of adventure, a 2wd sedan may be driven up to Striped Butte in good weather, although I’ll take a 4wd vehicle personally.

Another five miles or so, we come to a fork, the right of which heads up a couple miles towards Arrastre Spring, where it deadends. We’ll remain on the left fork, and in another five miles, find ourselves right next to Striped Butte, which is best photographed from the south, only a couple miles farther. Up on the hillside to the southwest, we spy a small stone cabin called Geologist Cabin. A large lush tree lives here, fed by Anvil Spring and Greater View Spring. From this intersection of roads, we have the option of heading west into Redlands Canyon, which requires a return on the same road to here. A short spur of two miles into Willow Spring and Anvil Spring Canyon is also available, and this is the region where the four German tourists mysteriously vanished during the summer of 1996.

Travel farther southwest to the top of Mengel Pass is very difficult, and only for expert drivers in 4wd vehicles, as the road degrades to a level of class-4 in places while it climbs the mountainside. Recall from the encyclopedia section that a large rock cairn exists at the summit commemorating prospector Carl Mengel. Well, let’s get on back down the mountain at this point, and return to the West Side Road loop. We will cover what’s on the western side of Mengel Pass later on while in the western portion of Region Three.

Once back down the alluvium past Warm Spring mine, we turn south on the West Side Road and proceed another three miles to where it ends at paved Highway 178. We can drive south on the pavement a couple of miles to take the short three mile drive up to Ashford Mine, which is class-3 in difficulty, then head back north to Badwater, past Mormon Point and Mushroom Rock, and finally arriving in Furnace Creek for some rest and relaxation! Well deserved, I might add … especially if we made several days out of this trip, camping in the canyons, visiting every historic attraction, hiking, and exploring along the way. Make this trip in the winter when it’s cool (and much safer).

Well, that’s the loop folks. Next stop is Salt Creek, the next dirt byway, although it’s easy and well graded so that any sedan can access this nice and easy hike along boardwalks to see the famous pupfish. This is located about twelve miles north of Furnace Creek, on the left hand side. The class-1 road is only about a mile long.

All right, now the journey takes us around the northernmost point of the Southern Panamints region, as we head southwest to Stovepipe Wells and some incredible hikes. Two and a half miles prior to reaching Stovepipe Wells Village, we encounter a dirt road to the south that leads a couple of miles to Grotto Canyon. Most folks can drive this road in many vehicles. The road ends where the great hiking begins, and if we are good enough, our hikes can take us in a loop around west to come down Mosaic Canyon. Better have someone drop us off and pick us up, not to mention a competent hiking partner if we are this motivated. If not, a simple hike up the canyon to the larger dryfall obstacles will certainly give us the idea of the grandeur to be found in here. Basically, this canyon is a very constricted affair that makes a neat secret hike if we enjoy tight places. I say “secret” because the majority of folks seem to prefer Mosaic Canyon immediately to the west, probably due to its easier access.

Less than three miles west of where the Grotto Canyon road took off, we now come across the Mosaic Canyon road, a wide and graded class-1 affair open to all. A similar short drive leaves us to park at the Mosaic Canyon trailhead for some of the most spectacular hiking in all of Death Valley. This canyon is miniature compared to some (like Titus), but it is so tight that at places we will wonder if we can get through. Definitely bring a camera, but never come in here if it’s raining on Tucki Mountain above. Flash floods are not conducive to long life. In several places, we will have to scramble up moderately easy dryfalls, eroded to a smooth texture from eons of water, rock, and sand. Farther into the canyon, where only the most fit hikers go, there are greater challenges and falls to scale.

Another exciting explorer’s road leaves from Stovepipe Wells up Cottonwood Canyon, but that is in the Northern Panamints section of this guide, so I’ll wait until that trip to discuss it.

Right now, our route on Highway 190 takes us south up Towne Pass, a steep paved grade that seems level except that our vehicle fuel economy is suffering and the car appears to be stuck in second gear for no readily perceptible reason. Looks are deceiving. It’s a long straight haul to the pass, but generally no problem for today’s well cooled and efficient engines.

Six miles out of the village, the LeMoigne Canyon dirt road that cuts off to the right, but that is also in the Northern Panamint section and will be covered later. We proceed another three miles to Emigrant Campground, and turn left to head up Emigrant Canyon towards Emigrant Pass, thereby cutting off of Highway 190 that goes to Towne Pass. Both roads keep us within the boundary of this Southern Panamint section, but we’ll return to the other road later.

A mile and a half past this intersection, on the left side of the pavement, look very carefully while driving slowly to find a two-track dirt road heading off northeast towards Tucki Mountain. Some years this can be exceptionally difficult, if not impossible, to find, so drive slowly to locate the Telephone Canyon primitive road. It is a ten mile road that takes us to the Tucki Mine, with eastward views up on top into Death Valley and Furnace Creek far below. This road can vary in difficulty, from class-2 all the way to class-3 (and maybe a rare class-4, depending on the year). I rate it a moderate challenge with no real problems for most adventurous drivers in 4wd vehicles. There is also a half mile spur road, now closed to vehicles, that leads to a gigantic carved piece of rock that looks like a Paul Bunyan size telephone receiver – a great photo. Essentially, it is a huge rock archway that is quite impressive, something like might be seen in Utah’s outback.

Back once again on the pavement to Emigrant Pass, about eight miles south of the Telephone Canyon road intersection, we come to our next attraction. It is a seven mile dirt road that takes us to memorable Skidoo ghost town. Generally, this road is wide and graded, suitable for most vehicles at the beginning, but it constricts and gets tougher as it proceeds to the legendary gold camp. Close to Skidoo, the road circles left around the side of a small mountain, where it is narrow with small rock obstacles, and has a cliff to the right. If we have a 4wd vehicle, it presents no problem, however folks in a regular sedan might get a little spooked. Once around this, it opens up soon onto the Skidoo valley and hillsides, with class-2 roads going every which way, and hikes to the biggest mining structures on the west end of town. By the way, the town isn’t here anymore, so don’t expect to see buildings. National Park Service signage gives photos and information at the site. The mining structures still do exist however, but must accessed by foot. For those who have studied and enjoyed the history of Skidoo, plan on spending some serious time here.

After that great diversion, we are back on pavement again after leaving Skidoo, still heading south to Emigrant Pass, and another two and a half miles from the Skidoo road comes the Aguereberry Point road, a spectacular overlook access point. This road goes in east almost as far as the Skidoo road did, so we can estimate travel time based on that. Less than three miles in on the right however, is a spur road to Jean Aguereberry’s old mining camp, the Eureka Mine. If we stop to explore this completely, it will greatly lengthen our visits in here. The Aguereberry road is class 1-2 and graded like the Skidoo road, but, just like the Skidoo road, eventually narrows. This one though goes into a tight canyon, wraps around the landforms, and eventually comes out to a large semi-flat parking where we can stop. From here, we can see down into Death Valley, and this is where the old road that used to go through to Trail Canyon took off to the south (right). It is now closed because it was destroyed down canyon long ago by nature. We can still hike down it if we have someone drop us off and then pick us up in Trail Canyon off the West Side Road.

From this large parking area, we notice that the dirt road continues up a steep and small incline to the summit of Aguereberry Point. It is not difficult, but it scares some folks. At the top is a large place to park and turn around, and also a great hiking path to an overlook that provides impressive views of Furnace Creek and Nevada. This viewpoint, like Dante’s View on the opposite side of the Valley on the crest of the Amargosa Range, is not to be missed. Aguereberry Point is quite a bit higher, as we may recall from reading the encyclopedia section, although Dante’s View is much steeper down at the overlook. On our way back out to the highway, we notice distant Telescope Peak to the south.

Back on pavement again, our next primitive roadbed pops up on the left hand side in less than two miles. It is at the 5,318-foot summit of Emigrant Pass. This is Wood Canyon, a short road that has no distinct destination at its terminus, as did the prior two, but provides nice solitude and a great wild camping experience for those of us who long to be alone (as far as humans are concerned that is, because nature is always our companion out here). At the end of the main road (yes, there is a short right-side class-3 spur near the end not shown on maps – it just deadends though, with no turn around area), we find a few nice trees that provide shade, and a comfortable sandwash campsite with no amenities. An ambitious hiker could camp here and hike easterly a ways for a Death Valley overlook. This also makes an excellent camp choice if we intend on sticking around these parts for a while, because we aren’t allowed to camp at Skidoo or Aguereberry.

Once out from Wood Canyon, in about eight miles we come to a main fork in the road. We will go left (east), up well known Wildrose Canyon. The right fork continues southwesterly into the Panamint Valley, and we’ll take it after exploring what’s up the left fork. This road still has old pavement at this point as we quickly encounter Wildrose Campground on the left, not far from a Ranger Station on the right. Traveling a few miles farther on, we cross over the old water pipeline that supplied Skidoo gold town from Telescope Peak. We notice a sign that designates the location. Next, after nine miles from the fork, we come upon Thorndike Campground, a fine camp that is heavily wooded with a few amenities. This camp is perfect for folks wishing to climb Wildrose Peak, Telescope Peak’s little sibling. Wildrose Peak is a little over eight miles roundtrip for those who enjoy mountain hiking with commanding views.

From Thorndike on up the canyon, I strongly encourage only four wheel drive rigs, although I have seen folks in passenger cars make it on good dry days. I have personally experienced other days where deep snow and rocks challenged me in my 4wd vehicle. The prize comes about a mile past Thorndike, in the form of 8,133-foot Mahogany Flat Campground, which sits atop the spine of the Panamint Range, with sweeping views of Death Valley right from our campsites! These are primitive sites, and few in number, so they may fill up during popular weekends. During the week however, I’ve never found the camp full – in fact, I have often been one of only two or three other explorers up here. For fit hikers wishing to climb Telescope Peak, this camp should make the perfect place for the night prior and night following the climb. Ascending Telescope is roughly fourteen miles roundtrip. The story about the hike appears elsewhere on The Death Valley Journal.

Back down in elevation, we again pass Wildrose Campground and descend farther on the paved road into the midsection of the Panamint Valley. Oh, I neglected to mention that a few miles back, we passed Tuber Canyon, another short spur road that heads off easterly. It is one of the few I have yet to personally explore, unfortunately, primarily due to the fact that other western Panamint canyons provide more distance and adventure. No matter how many years one spends exploring out here, there always remain a few elusive locales that continue to beckon. Once into Panamint Valley, we’ll turn left (southeast) onto the dirt Indian Ranch Road, a wide and graded class-1 route that takes us to the famous gold and silver town of Ballarat – not quite ghost status, but as close as an old town can possibly get. It’s full of history, with old adobe buildings, and explanatory signage.

And yes, we are now out of the national park boundary, having crossed it in Wildrose Canyon, but there are a few locales here in the western Panamint Range that are within the DVNP borders and can only be accessed by leaving the park first. On our left as we head south is the Surprise Canyon Wilderness area. Almost five miles in on this road we pass Jail Canyon to the left, a seven mile dirt road on the western slope of the Panamint Range. Jail Canyon has an old miner’s camp at the end where the Gem Mine used to spur on dreams of riches. Prior to wilderness designations, it was possible to drive a 4wd vehicle from this canyon over the steep ridges into Hall Canyon next door to the south. The road over the ridge consists of steep and tight switchbacks, and it can still be hiked if we are motivated and need a significant challenge of a one-thousand foot elevation gain in only a half mile. The road into Jail Canyon is primarily class 2-3. There is a huge boulder in here that  will absolutely dwarf our vehicles, at some point in time having rolled down off the mountainside above – better make sure our camps are in a good spot if we should decide to spend the night!

Hall Canyon, accessible on foot, is right below Telescope Peak, so conceivably if we are highly experienced and savvy hikers, we could combine some overnight backpacking that includes Jail Canyon to Hall Canyon, via the switchback road, and even a cross country trek to the summit of Telescope. It would be quite ambitious, but well worth the spectacular views and grand memories. Like all the incredible locales in this gargantuan national park, there is so much to explore that even a lifetime might not allow it all. One could literally dedicate themselves to DVNP and always have a new place to see and new things to do.

A little over ten miles from pavement now, on the Indian Ranch Road, we see the infamous Surprise Canyon road heading up the steep alluvium on our left, and disappearing into the craggy Panamint Mountains. This road used to allow access all the way to the silver town of Panamint City, but now ends several miles prior at Chris Wicht Camp. If we choose to do the seven mile hike up to the remarkable smelter chimney, we will again cross into DVNP, and our rewards will be justly deserved (after we ascend a few potentially hazardous dryfalls in the process – don’t come in here if the water is running high or rain threatens). This canyon is very narrow in spots. Other roads continue on even higher in elevation from the old townsite of Panamint, one on the south side that allows access to the actual silver mines, and another main dirt road on the north side that provides access to Mary’s Cabin, high on the precipitous slopes above the Panamint Valley. Nowadays, these roads are restricted to hiking due to the wilderness area designation.

Farther south, we pass Happy Canyon, and then land in Ballarat, which is also not in the park, but sits at the intersection of our next great roadway into the past, Pleasant Canyon, which re-enters DVNP about nine steep and challenging miles later. Ballarat has signage telling about some of the buildings if we enter from the west, but since we just came in from the north, we missed it. Near the beginning of the Pleasant Canyon ascent, a very short and rugged side road cuts off to the left and drops into Jackpot Canyon, but we’ll stay in Pleasant here. Ascending Pleasant in our 4wd vehicles seems fairly flat, until we look behind us occasionally, at which time we realize that we are gaining some serious elevation rather quickly!

This canyon is just challenging enough for people with a 4wd vehicle that most find it quite pleasant to drive. We cross streams, wind through thickets, see a burro here and there, get into the pinyon pines, and experience lots of history in the bargain. Pleasant Canyon provides access to Claire Camp, Montgomery’s World Beater Mine, and the Ratcliff Mine, among others. At the top of this fascinating canyon, which is inside the park boundary once again, we stop at Rogers Pass, because to travel farther east is not possible – we are overlooking Death Valley far below! What a grand view this is. Did members of the Bennett-Arcan party come through here, as some folks speculate?

At the top here, we see a rough road steeply climbing the razor edge to the left, but it deadends after a bit in a horrible off-camber rock pile that we will likely not want any part of! There is however, a nice flat area that makes for some excellent camping on the way to the road’s frightening end. At Rogers Pass, we’ll turn right and head south instead. This road is great fun to drive and explore, with numerous routes going here and there along the ridge and into Middle Park, a huge expanse of flat terrain in this lofty mountain valley. The road we’re on continues south, winding its way among the forest, dropping off steeply on both sides, and providing excellent views of Death Valley to the east. It culminates at a gigantic wide spot at the bottom of a precariously steep descent, where Striped Butte and Butte Valley are in full view (assuming we can take our eyes off the road long enough to look).

This last descent covers about a mile, and seems so steep that it can’t be driven safely, but it’s mostly in the mind – by placing the vehicle in low 4wd gear we will be fine, as there are no technically challenging spots on this classic class-2 roadbed. It’s just really steep, that’s all.

Now comes more fun! We head due west, down into South Park, and see roads going off here and there to old mining claims. These are fun to explore, but mighty dusty, so if we are in a group of vehicles, it’s best to spread way out to keep the air cleaner clean and the vehicle interior from filling with lung-choking dust as we cross the South Park expanse. Soon, we are entering the upper reaches of infamous South Park Canyon, a road that does not appear on Tom Harrison’s excellent map, but does show up on the AAA map and the NPS maps. On the National Park Service map entitled Death Valley Backcountry Roads, the one sponsored by Jeep, is an ominous warning that should be heeded! It reads: “Road conditions require experienced 4 wheel drivers.” Take this admonition very seriously, as South Park Canyon is definitely NOT for the timid or faint of heart. If we were at all spooked by the ridge run we just made, then we will hate what comes next! Turn around prior to entering the confines of this canyon if at all fearful of narrow ledges with precarious roadbed! Go back down to Ballarat the way we just came up instead. This is no canyon to take lightly!

For the imaginary journey in this story however, we will forge ahead with bravado and hopes of good luck! This road has a short class-5 obstacle in it, in the form of a massive rock outcropping on a ledge barely wide enough for a high clearance 4wd vehicle, which requires driving up over the rocky protrusion on the inside, while being precariously pitched sideways towards a vertical drop of a few hundred feet – and all this on rocks that were placed on the roadbed by human hands. Well, go read the encyclopedia entry on this one, and also about the makeshift bridge a quarter mile later, because we must move on here.

South Park Canyon drops us out onto a fantastic overlook of Panamint Valley, and then down some steep, but easy, switchbacks into the valley below. This part can often be driven in just about any vehicle. When we hit the Wingate Wash road, which comes south from Ballarat (three miles to the north), we will turn north back up to the townsite. If we headed south, we’d come to another celebrated canyon called Goler, which I highly recommend for the very adventurous only. It can be class 2-5 depending on the year, and will take us back over the top of the Panamint Range into Death Valley via Warm Spring Canyon, and ultimately the West Side Road where we started this section.

Goler Canyon starts out in BLM (Bureau of Land Management) jurisdiction, but then passes into DVNP territory part way up. The intriguing route passes Charles Manson’s hideout near Sourdough Spring, goes over Mengel Pass, and gets us very close to Striped Butte. Redlands Canyon, another neat explorer’s paradise, is accessed from Butte Valley, and I highly recommend going in there. It’s a deadend, requiring exit back into Butte Valley. An old cabin exists there for a potential overnight stay, as well as several cabins in Butte Valley.

Some folks who have limited experience in Goler Canyon, having only driven it in a good year, might insist that it is an easy road into Death Valley. Well, some years it is, relatively speaking, if we have 4wd. But other years it can be an absolute nightmare. If we are considering travel from Panamint Valley into Death Valley via Goler, we should consult the DVNP Morning Report at nps.gov/deva, or call the rangers, to learn of current conditions! Even in the good years where little weather erosion has destroyed the roadbed, it still requires a high clearance 4wd vehicle and plenty of backroad savvy. In bad years, it can be impassible and very dangerous, especially at the dryfalls in the narrow section near the mouth.

Travel much farther south on the Wingate Wash road past the entrance to Goler Canyon is restricted by a military weapons center. Stay away from that, as the folks in camo don’t take kindly to intruders these days! By the way, I should mention that at the Goler Canyon road where it intersects the Wingate road is a marked sign that reads P52/P70. Signs this far out in the middle of proverbial nowhere are subject to disappearance from time to time, likely having found new homes in the dens of notorious sign thieves from the city. Never count on signage – always have a map.

Back at eternal Ballarat, the incredible town that refuses to die, we’ll zip on out to the paved highway again and head north towards Highway 190, in the northern portion of the Panamint Valley. A few fun roads head off this main road to the west, such as the one that takes us to the famous onyx mine that was owned by the Hollywood actress, and the Remi Nadeau freight road. Since these western backroads are a distance outside the park, I’ll not discuss them in this story. They are easy to find on the map.

Once we arrive up at Highway 190, a short jaunt east (not even two miles) will allow us access to the Lake Hill and Big Four Mine road to the north. If we wish to hike Lake Hill, this is where we will be doing it. The peak is 2,030 feet above sea level, providing views in all directions, and requires a stroll to access. Hiking on the Panamint Dunes is also accessed from the northern portion of this road. The last half mile or so of this seven mile road is a big challenge, with washouts, and only for those well equipped. Not too many folks make it up this way, so we will likely be alone. This road is within park boundaries, and technically in Region Seven, the Northern Panamints, but since it is out of the way and we’re so close now, I figured we would just go ahead and chat about it here. So, when we get to Region Seven, let us not forget about this little switch.

On the highway, we turn west, travel through the resort of Panamint Springs (where we can eat, sleep, and purchase fuel – or even buy water that may cost more than gasoline), and then about another mile to Darwin Canyon, where we’ll turn off south on the graded class-1 road to the Darwin Falls hike. It’s only about two and a half miles in to a trailhead parking area. Stop here, and go walk up the canyon to access these incredible waterfalls that the average person would never guess exist in such otherwise arid countryside. After a mile walk, and lots of constricted brush passageways near the end, we come upon utopia! It is well worth an afternoon’s hike, especially during a hot day.

Well, that pretty much sums up the highlights of this section of the virtual trek through the Southern Panamints region as defined earlier in this story. There is a lot more to see, for sure, but this should have oriented us fairly well to the major things. Keep in mind that this story is primarily for orientation and access information, and that reference to other sources will provide more details not included here. Let’s move on to the next section now …

REGION FOUR: FUNERAL MOUNTAINS AND HINTERLANDS

With a map handy, let’s now take a crack at defining the Funeral Mountain region of our journey. For simplicity, we will begin the definition at Furnace Creek, the point of the arrowhead we identified earlier for the Greenwater Valley region. The western side of this area passes through Furnace Creek, in the form of Highway 190, and proceeds north about 15 miles to the intersection area where we would cut off west to access Stovepipe Wells. Here though, the northwestern boundary heads into Nevada through Hell’s Gate and a canyon called, interestingly enough, Boundary Canyon, and becomes Nevada Highway 374 once over the state line. Where 374 exits DVNP, the regional boundary follows the Death Valley National Park border line south roughly forty miles to a point where it turns towards the southwest and touches Highway 190 once more. From here, the area’s defining line continues north on the highway until it again reaches Furnace Creek. There are roughly 53 miles of dirt roadways in this region.

This segment is considerably smaller in area than the Southern Panamints section. Let’s make some more area calculations and update our running total to this point. My rough measurement indicates an approximate area of 450 square miles, covering mostly the Funeral Mountains east of Furnace Creek Visitor Center. If we add this area, which is 8.62 percent of the park’s total area, to 2,330 square miles of the other three, we now are at a combined area of 2,780 square miles, or about 53.22 percent of Death Valley National Park.

Let’s cover a couple of very neat locales just a short drive south of Furnace Creek to begin, the second of which will lead us on an exciting loop. First, we head south on paved Highway 190 (don’t confuse this with the road to Badwater, which is Highway 178, and cuts off of 190 just south of the visitor center).

About six miles southeast of the Visitor Center, immediately after the entrance to Twenty Mule Team Canyon (covered earlier in the Greenwater Valley section), we look off to our left at about ten o’clock in the distance to see a colossal slit in the rock cliff about six miles distant. This is called Hole in the Wall, and its entrance on the dirt road leading to it should be very near the entrance to Twenty Mule Team Canyon, on the opposite side of the highway. I say “should be” because some years, this road washes out near the highway, and we can never figure out how to get over to the Hole, but other years the two-track class-2 road is readily accessible with a nice wooden sign to let us know we are not making a mistake. Out in this country, if we head off on a road we aren’t sure of, it can be somewhat unnerving. This road rises to perhaps class-3 in short bursts, but is generally easy, albeit rocky and slow, going for an average 4wd vehicle driver.

At about six miles in, we drive through the impressive narrow slit that towers hundreds of feet above us like something out of a science fiction fantasy novel, and then in another couple miles come to where the road is closed to additional travel eastward by an NPS sign. We can park here and hike in to the Red Amphitheater if we are so inclined, and the weather isn’t too hot. This is rugged territory out this far, to be sure, and quite unique in many ways. Another road heads off over the rise to the north of this closure, but quickly deteriorates to a level only enjoyed by experienced backroad 4wd drivers. It is not closed by any signage. I would recommend staying off it unless seeking challenging navigational scenarios that would scare most.

More enjoyable for most explorers than Hole in the Wall is the access road into the very popular Echo Canyon, an attractive drive for thousands of folks every year. This dirt road is about two and a half miles back north on Highway 190, a little more than a mile north of the Zabriskie Point turnoff and parking area. Like Hole in the Wall, Echo Canyon road leaves the pavement on the east side of the highway. It is well signed, I’ve always found the road intact, and we will immediately be having fun as we head over to the canyon walls about two miles distant. This road is mostly class-2 all the way to the Inyo Mine area, but within the constricted canyon itself, some might think it’s more difficult due to deep sand and tiny little pebbles. Be careful when rounding the tight turns in here, so that another vehicle in not encountered head-on coming the opposite direction! I would not bring a 2wd sedan up this road, as it will most likely get stuck in the canyon portion.

The reason for this canyon’s immense popularity, other than the fact that it’s the closest four wheel drive road to Furnace Creek, is that the Eye of the Needle is in here, the Inyo Mine is close to the road’s eastern terminus, and we can also hike to the ghost town of Schwab. Look those attractions up in the encyclopedia to learn more. Past the Inyo Mine, the road deadends in about a mile, but we can park and hike into a great little canyon to explore some ancient petroglyphs, if we can find them. No clues will be given here. This little end of the road spot is my secret overnight when in the area, as no one comes in this far each evening, so I always have it to myself. The sunsets are beautiful too! Nearly everyone turns around after visiting the Inyo Mine down canyon. That’s why I like it up this far.

Oops, did I just give away a personal secret there? Seems like I made the same mistake when I revealed the Wood Canyon overnight in the Southern Panamints tour, or the Gold Valley secret overnight spot while we toured the Greenwater Valley arrowhead. The bummer is that I promised a couple of gals who go by the internet moniker of DzrtGrls not to reveal the Wood Canyon camp – they might be upset once they realize that I just gave up the hidden gem! Oh well, this is supposed to be a backcountry access guide to the best places, so there it is. If we do end up using any of these very secluded, little-known, secret camps, we must do our parts and clean up after anyone before us who has been negligent. I’ve always found these three utopian sites to be nearly pristine, fortunately.

Now, where do we go from here? Most people travel back down Echo Canyon to the highway after exploring the Inyo Mine and camping overnight in the canyon somewhere, but for this tour, we’ll take another road … one that is only for experts. This will make a nice loop for the remainder of the Funeral Mountain trip. By the way, this area is out of the narrows where the Eye of the Needle was – the road this far in travels through a very pleasant and easy valley.

About a mile and a half west, and down valley from the Inyo Mine, heading west towards the highway, we’ll make a right hand turn. There is a wooden sign here that we noticed on our trip in last evening that says “Amargosa” on it, because it traverses the Funeral Mountains to come out east in the Amargosa Valley in Nevada. Immediately after turning north on this new road, it climbs a steep, but short rise, and then drops down into another side canyon. Note also that if we want to hike to the old gold camp of Schwab, parking here will get us pretty close to it.

This new road is what I call the Echo Pass Road, to differentiate it from Echo Canyon Road, and it is definitely not for beginners of backcountry travel. It is in a tight and winding canyon, with unique rock formations that look like the rocks were folded in places. It is mostly class-2 for a ways, sometimes getting a wee bit more difficult, but not much. Then, as we look ahead after a mile or two from the Amargosa sign, we see the canyon tighten severely, which nearly always means that flash flooding has probably been at work in here at some time or another. Sure enough, the road necks down to just wide enough for a vehicle, and that’s when we come up against the dryfalls … short, but steep and very rocky, and requiring expert ability with a very capable high clearance 4wd vehicle. These rocks can damage our vehicles, and also cause them to become high-centered! Be careful, and turn around if there is the slightest question about successfully ascending these obstacles. Always get out and walk intimidating roadbed before attempting it, regardless of experience level. This is a tough section for almost anyone.

Once over the series of falls, we come upon the site for Lee Camp, and then pass shortly into Nevada and outside of the DVNP boundary. Turning left here, and heading north, in about six miles or a little more, a road cuts off to the west, back into the Funeral Mountains from which we just exited. This is roughly a seven mile spur road that takes us up to Indian Pass, near the crest of the Funerals. It is very remote. It is also a deadend, so we must turn around and come back out to Nevada to get back into the park. Indian Pass itself is within the DVNP boundaries however – we just can’t get here in a vehicle from California, at least not directly, that is. The Indian Pass Road is shown on Tom Harrison’s map and the NPS backcountry roads map, but is not shown on the Automobile Club map or the free NPS map that is provided when we pay our park entry fees upon arrival.

Now we must head north and make our way up to Nevada Highway 374, which we will do on a few of the obvious dirt roads that head that way. If we get lost out here (not likely really), we can always head east to Nevada Highway 95 about seven miles, head north to the town of Beatty (fuel available), and then west again on Highway 374 to get back into the park and State of California. After we cross the state line on 374, it’s now California and we are heading down Boundary Canyon towards Death Valley. But about three miles past the California line, we slow way down so we don’t miss one of the best backcountry experiences in the entire park … Chloride City and Chloride Cliff!

This road cuts off south of the pavement when the road curves to the right as we head west. The road is not marked as Chloride – only a modest (and very easily missed) small wooden sign suggests 4wd vehicles. Last time I was up this way, someone had written by hand with a thick black marker the words “Chloride Cliff” so as to assist others who may be in doubt about where the road goes. As anyone familiar with this national park knows, it’s not wise to be taking off and traveling long miles on dirt roads with uncertain destinations. With a reliable map on our front seats, we should be able to figure this one out if we watch our odometers.

The road to Chloride City (and also the cliff overlook of Death Valley, which is just beyond the city portion) is a barrel of fun to drive and explore, and hiking opportunities abound in here. It’s not just one road either, like the maps show. This is one of those locales where roads go off in every direction as we travel essentially southward towards the cliff. One side road we definitely want to take is just a hair over two miles in from the pavement, and it is the first one that cuts off to the right or west. By the way, most of the roads in here are class-2, with a few easy class-3 sections, so we need not give too much worry about giving it a try as long as we have a standard 4wd vehicle. Regular sedans should only come in if driven by an experienced person with a sense of adventure, and the knowledge that a spot that simply is beyond a car’s 2wd capability might necessitate returning to the pavement.

This first spur road is a deadend, but what a trip it is! The road here goes into the deep chasm of Monarch Canyon, and it is simply one of my favorite secret spots that I love to explore. It only goes in about a mile, but the canyon walls are high, tight, solid rock, with blue sky only visible straight up. It’s like a miniature Titus Canyon (which we’ll visit in the Grapevine Mountains region). There’s a lot to like in Monarch!

We will know when we get to the end of the drivable section due to the plunge of an immense vertical dryfall that basically forces our cessation of forward motion if we desire to keep breathing. Here is yet another fantastic place for an overnight camp, especially if we are in a group of several automobiles. It is large and sandy, with room for a few rigs to comfortably park. The rock cliffs are high, and it gets shady quickly in the afternoon, which is a good thing if we are here in the warmer months, and maybe not so desirable if it is January when the sun feels good. This also is one grand place to hike around, as an old and dangerous portion of the road continues on down Monarch Canyon into the lush foliage narrows of Monarch Spring. Do not attempt the road any farther in a 4wd vehicle though, for it will likely tip over, ruin the vehicle, and severely injure vehicle occupants. Walk the rest of the way please!

After a night here and lots of fun hiking, it’s back up to the Chloride City road once again, where we turn right and head south. Over hill and dale, the road winds, and soon, in about three miles, we come to an intersection. The left fork takes us back out into the Amargosa Desert in Nevada, where we were yesterday … In fact, we could have taken this road in from Nevada to get here, but unless we are very familiar with this region, I’d advise sticking with the way we went so as not to get lost.

Another two miles of this rolling landscape and road brings us to the central area called Chloride City, although we have been seeing old buildings for quite some time prior to here. Now, here is a perfect example where the maps show only one road, but what is in front of our eyes tells us differently. Roads take off everywhere, to all these old mining spots and homes where these rugged prospectors and miners once lived. They are all deadends or loops though, so feel free to explore fully and confidently. Most of these roads do not appear on any maps.

It would be easy for a ghost town enthusiast to spend another day here exploring it all. And there is yet another prize on this road, one that we surely don’t want to miss! Chloride Cliff is farther south, but not very far. We must use our judgment and sense of direction as to which road to follow to get to it, but it’s fairly straight forward if we just maintain a steady southerly direction a little ways farther. The last few yards to the top of the overlook is best walked, because it is very steep with rocks strewn about from some folks who tear it up attempting the ascent in a 4wd vehicle. The view from the top, looking down upon Death Valley to the south, is superb, and up here we can also see Tucki Mountain (where we visited earlier), Aguereberry Point, Telescope Peak, the Devil’s Golf Course, Stovepipe Wells sand dunes (Mesquite Dunes), and many other familiar locales.

The Chloride Cliff view is like being in an airplane, and if we camp overnight, it’s fun to walk up here at night to see an occasional car far below, or to look over into Nevada and see the lights of Beatty, or farther south to see the immensely lit up sky over Las Vegas. The popular Vegas saying goes, “What happens in Vegas stays in Vegas” but as I always have maintained, the light at night sure doesn’t stay there – it sprawls all over the natural world in all directions. That’s one of the drawbacks of camping high on mountaintops in the eastern sections of the park.

We can exit Chloride Cliff and City from either of the two routes spoken of earlier: the one that takes us into Nevada’s vast Amargosa Desert, or the one on which we came in yesterday. We’ll head out the way we came, on down paved Boundary Canyon, and to the paved Beatty Cutoff Road that leads to Furnace Creek. Four miles after we get on the Beatty Cutoff Road however, we’ll make a quick stop at the Keane Wonder Mine on the three mile, graded, class-1 dirt road. Recall the unique tram system that kept the ore moving down the mountain. Any car can be driven in here, as long as natural forces don’t change the topography significantly. {last minute update: Keane Wonder Mine closed September 2008 due to hazardous conditions – refer to “Mine Safety Hazard” in the encyclopedia}

That wraps up the Funeral Mountain region of discussion, as there is only pavement and no side roads on into Furnace Creek, with the exception of the one that turns in at Cow Creek, and leads to the NPS housing and warehouse areas. Let’s now move on to Region Five:

REGION FIVE: NEVADA TRIANGLE AND HINTERLANDS

Describing this region is easy and quick to do, and calculating the area is fairly accurate compared to the prior four irregular regions. The Nevada Triangle is obvious to anyone who pulls out any map of Death Valley National Park because it is the perfectly triangular shape that extends into the State of Nevada, with its two extruding sides nearly twenty miles long each. The third side is the state line between California and Nevada. There are roughly 70 miles of dirt roadways in this region.

If we multiply 20 times 20, we get 400, but seeing as how this is only half of the square, our old school days of mathematics remind us that we must halve this number for the area. Thus, the Nevada Triangle is 200 square miles, with only a slight margin of error. Two hundred square miles comprise 3.83 percent of DVNP, thereby bringing our running totals to 2,980 square miles or 57.05 percent of the total park. Remember, these numbers aren’t exact, but close enough for government work (apologies to the eagle-eyed NPS administrators who may be reading my good-natured poke). What fun is life if we don’t laugh? Medical science has long since demonstrated the life extension benefits of a good chuckle, so, as my motto goes: “Live Long, Hike Far, Stay Wild” … and laugh whenever possible, for goodness sake! It’s best not to sweat the small stuff.

Well, continuing on with our tour, there are quite a few primitive roads in the Triangle, and only one paved road (a short stretch of Nevada Highway 374 that runs through Daylight Pass in the southern tip). Even with all these dirt roads, our discussion of this region will be short, as only five of the roads are main ones that most folks will travel. The others are a web of interconnecting roadbeds that allow quicker access to each of the three roads, if we are familiar with the Bullfrog Hills. It’s easy to get lost in here. Actually, many of these extra roads are really outside the park boundary zone, and will not be discussed here. Except for one that is!

The road to the famous ghost city of Rhyolite, not in DVNP but close to it, is readily accessed while in this region. Any 2wd vehicle can easily make the short dirt trip to Rhyolite. We will most definitely want to partake of Rhyolite’s treasures, take plenty of photographs, and perhaps even camp out in the secluded Bullfrog Hills, where there are many secret camps just waiting for the adventurous explorer. Once, years ago, I did just that, camping at a wonderful old mine tailing with the mountains to my north exquisitely splashed with color, and listening to Elvis Presley on the radio coming from Las Vegas, which is nearly line of sight from where I parked that night. Enough of the stories … let’s talk about the access points.

Starting from the north of the Triangle, the first place we want to visit is Phinney Canyon and Phinney Pass. The easiest way to access this locale, so we don’t get hopelessly lost on the labyrinth of dirt roads, is to enter from Nevada Highway 95, nearly 12 miles north of Beatty, Nevada. The turnoff is on the west side of the pavement to our left as we head north from Beatty. It is a cattle gate, which at first might make one think that entrance is not allowed, but perish the thought, bold explorer! Gates are meant to go through … after we properly open and close them, of course, so that the rancher’s animals remain contained to graze. This is public land.

The fencing and gate is barbed wire wrapped around rough wooden poles. The gate is one of those old fashioned types where one has to pull in at the top while unhooking the barbed wire loop that holds it in place. Then carefully extract the bottom end of the pole from its barbed loop, and walk the entire fence gate over to the side of the dirt road. Now, get back in the vehicle, drive through, and reverse the procedure to close the gate. For those who have used these before, this makes perfect sense, otherwise it may leave us scratching our heads.  We will learn soon enough once we encounter one – just be careful around the painful barbs. I grew up with my dad traveling the backroads of the Mojave Desert, so I learned as a kid from him how to operate these primitive contraptions without scraping myself with the wire.

Onward to Phinney! This road takes us first over some small hills to the northwest, and then shoots out straight as an arrow on the other side, across the southern end of Sarcobatus Flat, and disappears from view ten miles distant in the Grapevine Mountains. It’s an easy class 1-2 drive most of the way, very serene, with the feeling that we are the only people on Earth. I love it out here. Haven’t seen a space ship land here yet, but I just know that those aliens must realize that this flat is perfect for a close encounter with some wandering adventurer – it’s just a matter of time. Sorry, I’m wandering a bit here mentally, so I’ll sign off tonight and get back to the keyboard tomorrow after some grub and shuteye tonight. See ya’ …

All right, I’m back again! It’s Sunday afternoon and the sun is shining outside. I’d rather be out hiking and exploring right now, but must press on relentlessly to put the finishing touches on this story. That being the case, back to Phinney Canyon again.

Look at the map now. See the northeastern point of the Nevada Triangle, which is about six miles in from Highway 95? Shortly after we cross this imaginary political point of Earth, the road climbs onto an old abandoned railroad bed, which is a fun drive. Just over ten miles from the pavement, we come to a major fork in the roadbed. The one that continues essentially straight goes on to the Strozzi Ranch site, and the one that veers of slightly to the northwest leads to Phinney Canyon and Pass. We’ll follow the road to Phinney first, and come back to Strozzi in a little while.

Around four miles from the fork we just passed, another road cuts off due south, and heads up a steep incline. This road is a shortcut back to the Strozzi road, and we’ll take it coming back down. Phinney Pass is a deadend legally, so this is an in and out proposition. Continuing straight, we are now climbing higher in the beautiful eastern slope of the Grapevine Mountains, in the northern reaches of the Amargosa Range. Pinyon and juniper trees become thicker the higher we travel, with the road eventually becoming constricted more and more as it winds into the canyon. It is still mostly fun class-2 however, with a little class-3 popping up now and then, but nothing significant to frighten us. Partway up this canyon, we can cut off to the Phinney Mine, but we’ll continue on up to the ridgeline, on a few switchbacks. Four wheel drive is needed up here, as the road is steep and tight. A 2wd vehicle would tear up the land as it loses traction.

Within the confines of this canyon is a huge boulder the size of an engine compartment, which requires careful maneuvering around the right side to get by. Glad we have smaller and more nimble vehicles than in the old days! Nearly 21 miles from pavement now, we reach the top, a narrow piece of ground with enough room for a couple of rigs to comfortably camp. The road continues on down the western side of Phinney Pass, but this is the end for us because from here on is wilderness area, and the road is heavily overgrown now, making even a hike kind of slow at times. The large reddish rocks at the summit where we parked make for great scrambling if we want to stretch our legs and get some breathtaking views (also allows spotty cellular service). From here, we can look down into the northernmost region of Death Valley. It definitely gets cold up here at night … have a really good sleeping bag if aiming to camp until the dawn!

We’ll drive on back down to that little shortcut road now. After turning right on it, climbing out of the wash, and getting up on top, we see a small fenced scientific instrument of some sort (perhaps a weather monitoring device) to the left. This road is only a mile, if that, and then we intersect with the Strozzi Ranch road, where we turn right and head west once again. Strozzi Ranch road parallels Phinney Canyon road, one canyon to the north. In three and a half miles, we pull into the remains of Strozzi Ranch, which is being upgraded by the National Park Service. A nice shaded area with camping tables is here for the overnighter to use. Trees are abundant, with westward views of the mountains quite nice. It’s a great place to spend a night in peace.

After visiting Phinney and Strozzi, we head back east from whence we came, and just short of the place where the two roads first diverged into each of their separate canyons, a two track road cuts off slightly southeast at an angle. A map is really necessary out here, especially if we are here for the first time, as there are a number of unmarked roads. This road we’re now on takes us into the Bullfrog Hills, and an area very rich in gold mining history.

Passing Currie Well, the road soon forks. Either fork will take us south to Bullfrog and Rhyolite, but we’ll take the right (western-most) fork to make a couple of other roads easier to access. Ten miles farther, a road cuts off right, and is our access point to either McDonald Spring or Cave Rock Spring, both of which are still in the Grapevine Mountains. If we come in to this area from Nevada Highway 374 west of Beatty, it is easier and quicker to access these two roads. It is likewise possible to access Strozzi and Phinney from 374, just by pulling onto the dirt at the Rhyolite road.

One thing we will soon learn if we begin driving around in this Nevada Triangle region is that there are many dirt roadways not shown on maps. This is why it’s good to have more than one map for cross referencing. They all show slightly different renditions of the terrain. There are quite a few unmarked roads north of Rhyolite, so we’ll have lots of fun out here poking around, if we don’t get lost. Without a map in the Nevada Triangle, it would be easy to get lost. Maybe there’s some weird phenomenon like the Bermuda Triangle going on here? Oh well, onward lost wanderer …

The final lost road we’ll take in this region is the long stretch that heads to the famed Titus Canyon, an attraction that most visitors wish to access at least once … if it’s not raining, that is. This road has its origin in the Nevada Triangle region, and finds its terminus in the Grapevine Mountains region, which comes next in our discussion.

To visit Titus Canyon by vehicle, we must exit both California and Death Valley National Park, because the Titus Canyon road is one way westbound for the first 24 miles due to its constricted width in the narrowest parts. If we wish to hike Titus Canyon, we may do so from the Death Valley side, and we’ll talk about that shortly. About six miles east of Beatty, on Nevada Highway 374, the Titus Canyon road leaves the pavement. There is a modest sign here designating it as Titus. From the California border, this intersection is reached about seven miles into Nevada, on the paved road that goes from Stovepipe Wells to Beatty.

This wide, graded, class-1 dirt roadbed takes off at an angle from the paved highway, heading nearly due west into the Grapevine Mountains of the Amargosa Range. It is very washboarded from many vehicles over the years, probably scores of which are driven too fast, which seems to contribute to the uncomfortable jarring effect. A softly suspended vehicle will ease the feeling, as will slipping the vehicle into 4wd. This road is about 27 miles in length until it reaches the pavement again at the Scotty’s Castle road, but fortunately, only the first eight miles or so are jittery on the bones. It is possible to drive this road in a 2wd automobile if the weather is dry, but care must be taken over the Red Pass portion.

Once into the foothills, the going is much easier, fun, and the scenery becomes quite spectacular as we climb in elevation. This is a pleasant trip, and best appreciated in very early morning. The switchbacks up to the summit of Red Pass appear intimidating at first glance from the bottom, but, as we soon discover, are rather easy and can be done in 2wd if necessary. At Red Pass, we can see back east over the road we just traveled, and we can look west into Titus Canyon. There is room to park a few small vehicles at the summit, and there is a nice hiking trail that heads north to taller vistas.

If following along on a map while reading this, which I recommend, it is apparent that we just passed out of the Nevada Triangle region about two miles ago. So, I’ll end this regional discussion here, and we’ll pick this road up again in the next section.

REGION SIX: GRAPEVINE MOUNTAINS AND HINTERLANDS

Region six will continue on the Titus Canyon road where we just left off in Region Five, but first let’s talk about what defines this area. We’ll begin the border definition on Nevada Highway 374 right where it enters California, and becomes known as the Daylight Pass road on its way towards Stovepipe Wells Village. It proceeds southwest through Mud Canyon and intersects with the road that heads up north to Scotty’s Castle. Here the boundary to this region goes north, past the Grapevine Ranger Station, and veering left on the road to Ubehebe Crater (rather than following the road to Scotty’s). Two point eight miles north on the Ubehebe road, the boundary departs pavement as it follows the Big Pine-Death Valley dirt road on north. About 22 miles of dirt brings the line to Crankshaft Crossing, where it turns left and heads southwest up into Hanging Rock Canyon.

If looking at the map right now (which is preferable in order to understand this region), we notice a strange little rounded area not included in the national park that appears to be a grossly distorted golf club. Hanging Rock Canyon is in the striking portion of the club, and the road that defines this region proceeds straight as an arrow right up the club’s handle. Well, now the border for Region Six simply follows the DVNP boundary around the northernmost part of the park, east along Cucomungo Canyon, and to the Nevada state line. From here, the eastern border to this area heads southeast about sixty miles back to where we started. The country this far north is mighty remote and lonely, as far as people are concerned – there is always an abundance of comforting nature out here! There are roughly 100 miles of dirt roadways in this region.

Rough figuring estimates this region to be 560 square miles, which works out to 10.7 percent of the total area of Death Valley National Park. Updating our running account of numbers for all the number crunchers out there, this region now brings us to 3,540 total square miles so far, or 67.75 percent of DVNP. Excuse me for a moment, as all this ciphering has resulted in some smoke billowing out of my ears – I think my brain is full.

All right, fire is out, brain cooled, and we will now continue our trip into Titus Canyon at long last. We had parked at the top of Red Pass. Once over the top, the road becomes very narrow and tight, as it plunges down switchbacks, but they are not too bad as long as we drive slowly. Four wheel drive is normally not required, but care is. We soon come to the ghost town of Leadfield, former home to one of the great scams of Death Valley, perpetrated by none other than notorious Charles Julian. Past here, its only a short drive to the petroglyphs. Both of these attractions are well marked by the National Park Service with large wooden signs. Most petroglyphs in DVNP are not marked or advertised in order to protect them from vandals, so this Titus example is one of the few that most folks will get to experience. Some of them are visible right near the sign.

As we progress farther west, it is becoming obvious that the walls of the canyon are closing in and looming higher and higher, until we cannot even see the tops through our front windshields. I recommend stopping and getting out from time to time to truly appreciate the scale of this canyon compared to a human. It is also fascinating to realize that water is the all powerful instigator of this enormous eroded chasm. After rains, the NPS may close this road due to flood damage. It’s interesting to note that lots of water plays a huge role in defining this deep and narrow canyon, yet its name is taken from a fellow who perished due to lack of it.

Once the road exits the overwhelming confines of the Titus Canyon (all too soon from my point of view, which is why hiking is nice), we come out onto a large flat parking area with an outhouse. Here, we are only about three miles from the paved Scotty’s Castle road, and we can easily see it near the base of this gigantic alluvial fan on which we are parked. If Titus Canyon is ever closed to vehicular traffic, we can still access this parking lot from the Castle road, park, and then hike into the confines of the walls. It is uniquely pleasant to have it all to oneself, without worry of a car rounding the corner. Again, just make sure it isn’t raining over the Grapevine Mountains.

This parking lot is also a great place from which to access a couple of must-do hikes for dedicated pedestrians. On the north side of the lot, a footpath heads up over a small rise, and drops us out in Fall Canyon, the next canyon to the north of Titus. For those who liked Titus Canyon, wait until Fall Canyon is experienced! It’s hiking-only in here, no cars allowed because there is no road. The walls tower above us, and the tight constriction of the narrow sections leaves us breathless. If we have Michel Digonnet’s book mentioned earlier, the color cover shot was taken in Fall Canyon – an absolutely stunning step back into time. Yes, we will want to give it a try. For a two-day trek, we may enjoy making a loop from Fall Canyon over north into Red Wall Canyon. This would be demanding for many folks, yet for the adventurous, prudent, and able, unforgettable memories await!

Not only is Fall Canyon accessed from the Titus parking lot, but also we will be able to hike up to Red Wall Canyon, which is just over four miles farther north. Of course, this is quite a bit of walking, and it may be closer to get into Red Wall by parking on the Scotty’s Castle road instead of the Titus parking lot. Either way, we must be very fit, experienced, and well prepared if we are going to hike Red Wall Canyon. Not a lot of people do these hikes, so please remember that we are very alone and very remote. Only knowledgeable hikers should attempt these walks into the folds of the Earth. And the key word to remember is: Water!

Onward. From the parking lot at the western end of Titus Canyon, we now drive the wide and well graded class-1 road about three miles to the pavement. Here we turn right, and head northward on the Scotty’s Castle road. In about 18 miles, we pass through the Grapevine Ranger Station entrance point (15 mph speed limit), and then the road soon forks. The paved right fork heads up Grapevine Canyon to Scotty’s Castle, which always makes for a fine mid-day oasis to refresh ourselves during our backcountry treks. It’s just about three miles up  the twisty canyon, and we can get refreshments, use a nice bathroom, buy gifts, tour the castle, or even purchase fuel if the old pumps are functional.

That’s an important point when exploring the very remote northern reaches of DVNP: not always is gasoline available at Scotty’s Castle. And if we are planning on heading farther north or west on the backroads, getting fuel here is certainly something we will want to be doing! Find out ahead of time at Stovepipe Wells if the gas pump is working at Scotty’s, and if it isn’t, fill the tank at Stovepipe, and then drive very conservatively up to here so as to keep the needle on “full” as long as possible.

The distances from here on out are unbelievably long, and if we explore many side roads and spurs, it can become worrisome as the fuel gauge needle begins to fall. It pays to know vehicle fuel range, based on dirt road driving. A rule of thumb I tell folks is to figure half of the highway cruising fuel usage (miles per gallon) whenever judging primitive backroad driving. That should give a rough idea. So, if we get 24 miles per gallon on the highway, using a figure of 12 miles per gallon for the dirt roads should be a safe estimate. Actually, we will probably do much better than that because most of the dirt roads are easy, but I just like to be on the safe side, and prefer to keep others there too.

Back at the Scotty’s Castle road and Grapevine Canyon road intersection (just north of the Ranger Station we just passed), we will take the jog to the left fork, following the sign that points us towards Ubehebe Crater. The road is still paved. Slightly less than three miles farther on, a wide and graded dirt road cuts off to the right. We turn right here, onto the dirt. This is the Big Pine-Death Valley road, which goes to Crankshaft Crossing, and a host of other intriguing backcountry places. We can also drive it all the way to the Highway 395 town of Big Pine. This road can usually be driven in a standard passenger car, but of course, the side roads we’ll be exploring will sometimes call for a 4wd vehicle, depending on weather and conditions.

Fourteen miles north as we drive this bumpy washboard road, we notice a class-2 road heading off to the northeast. The road leads up Oriental Wash, to the ghost town of Oriental (also called Old Camp), Gold Mountain, the Stateline Gold Mine, and the surrounding forested mountain areas. Only the first three miles of this road are within the DVNP boundary and Region Six as defined by this story’s initial assessment. As such, we shall not take it on this trip. I highly recommend exploring this area if the stories of the Stateline Mine are personally intriguing. Past three miles out is the Nevada state line, and thus the name for the Stateline mine. It’s beautiful wild country out here, and it can make for many hours or days worth of fun adventure and camping. We must make sure that we are well supplied with everything necessary to remain safe, because we are not anywhere close to help of any kind. And a number of the roads are unmapped.

As we continue north on the Big Pine road, the mountains we see to our west (out the driver’s side window), are called the Last Chance Range. In less than eight miles from the Oriental intersection, we finally arrive at Crankshaft Crossing, where a stop is a must so that we can photograph and marvel at all the crankshafts ornately situated around the wooden sign. It’s kind of like Teakettle Junction, only with crankshafts rather than teakettles. We’ll turn right here at this intersection, but later come back and take the left fork into Hanging Rock Canyon. Two destinations appear on this wooden sign, one for Gold Point and the other for Death Valley.

From the intersection we are now heading northeast, and quickly see a road forking off to the north on our left, which takes us to Last Chance Spring, at the base of Last Chance Mountain. This is a class 2-3 roadbed that ends in less than three miles, and makes for a secluded, but easily accessed, place to spend a night (and a great scenic hike to the top of Last Chance Peak). Back down from this spring, the road continues on into Nevada, reaching the state line in about five miles. We will find a number of side roads in this neck of the woods, especially once into Nevada, that do not appear on maps. Of course, this makes for some great exploring possibilities. Many of the roads are short deadends, and one just over the state line that heads north into the hills provides a very nice overnight locale on an old mine tailing. I have stayed here, and a short hike to the ridgeline around sunset provides magnificent views south down Death Valley Wash.

From this spot on the California-Nevada state line, we can travel farther to Tule Canyon, which is a great drive into the mountains past old ghost towns. If we come too early in the season though, the narrow canyon road will likely still be covered in snow. Other traces of Nevada’s old west history can be found east of here at the surviving town called Gold Point. There are loads of roads in this section of Nevada, just perfect for the ghost town enthusiast and backroad explorer.

Now however, we’ll head on back west to Crankshaft Crossing again, and continue on the Big Pine-Death Valley road into Hanging Rock Canyon. This small portion of the trip is in an area that is excluded from the national park lands because of a mining agreement forged when DVNP was created in 1994. Some of this road for a short ways is paved, being as how it used to be a mining concern, but most is well packed dirt and very easy to drive. Hanging Rock Canyon is a very short affair, but it gives a typical canyon “narrows” feel.

As we descend on the northwestern exit of the canyon, a road cuts off to the left, but that is in Region Eight, so we’ll address it fully then. It is the South Eureka Valley Road that goes to the incredible Eureka Sand Dunes. Just past that intersection less than a mile on our right is the final road we’ll talk about in this region. It is the North Eureka Valley Road, a wide and easy eight mile stretch of graded dirt that takes us up to the western entrance of Cucomungo Canyon, and the northernmost ingress/egress point for DVNP. The road actually leaves the national park about a mile short of Cucomungo, as the boundary line hugs the southern edge of the canyon.

Cucomungo Canyon, an exciting exploratory adventure into wooded mountains, can be driven to make a loop with Tule Canyon if no snow has the roads closed. If we come in April, we should find little left. A loop through Tule can bring us back on down to Oriental Wash for some exciting history and remarkable scenery. Well, that’s the extent of Region Six, so now we’ll move on to the northern Panamints.

REGION SEVEN: NORTHERN PANAMINTS AND HINTERLANDS

The northern section of the Panamint Range is composed of a massive mound of mountains commonly referred to as the Cottonwood Mountains, so as we examine our maps to get our bearings for Region Seven, look for the Cottonwoods west of Stovepipe Wells Village. Explaining this region is a trifle difficult, so let’s begin at Stovepipe Wells. Observing the map, let’s get started:

Beginning the boundary definition, follow Highway 190 east from Stovepipe to the Scotty’s Castle road. Highway 190 essentially forms the southern boundary of Region Seven. Now, follow Scotty’s Castle road all the way north through the valley up to Ubehebe Crater. This is the eastern boundary of the region. From Ubehebe Crater, the boundary continues south on the dirt road that leads to Teakettle Junction. That portion of road, covering about twenty miles, forms almost half of the western boundary of Region Seven. At Teakettle Junction, the boundary follows the dirt road into Lost Burro Gap and Hidden Valley, through Ulida Flat, and up over Hunter Mountain to South Pass. From there, it heads southwest down across Lee Flat on the Saline Valley road all the way to paved Highway 190. This last stretch forms the other half of the western boundary. From here, the line follows 190 all the way back to Stovepipe Wells Village. There are roughly 112 miles of dirt roadways in this region.

Having gained in both mathematical confidence and competence during this exhausting cerebral exercise of estimating square mileages and percentages, I will now offer for consideration that Region Seven is 750 square miles, which equals about 14.37 percent of DVNP (concerning consideration of my figures, I also offer words of wisdom from Aristotle, famous Greek philosopher: “It  is the mark of an educated mind to be able to entertain a thought without accepting it.”). Integrating these latest figures with those thus far, we find that with the inclusion of this region, we will have covered an area of 4,290 square miles, or 82.12 percent of North America’s hottest, driest, and lowest National Treasure.

Near the southernmost point of this region, about four miles east of Panamint Springs Resort, is the Big Four mine road that passes Lake Hill in the northern Panamint Valley. Since we have already discussed this road in a previous section due to its isolation in Region Seven and closer proximity to Region Three, we’ll ignore it here.

So, to begin this section’s backcountry access information, let’s start with the LeMoigne Canyon road, which is about three miles north of Emigrant Campground on Highway 190, and about six miles south of Stovepipe Wells Village. On the west side of the paved highway, we find a modest, and easily missed, wooden sign that designates this primitive road, much as many of the dirt backcountry roads are signed by the NPS. Unless a motorist is looking for these signs, they would be very easy to miss at typical modern highway speeds. Basically, this access road is right across the street from Tucki Mountain … we can’t miss the mountain at least!

The LeMoigne road is rough and rocky going, traveling across the grain of erosion direction, which means that it goes into and out of water ruts of various sizes, and at the same time, we notice that rocks are everywhere. Don’t take this road if in a hurry. It is not really difficult, just tedious for many folks due to the slow grind. I’d rate it class-2 primarily, with perhaps a few class-3 glitches along the way. This road used to take the adventurous all the way to Jean LeMoigne’s old lead and silver mining camp, deep in the canyon, but is nowadays closed off far short of that point in order to preserve what remains. We can get in a little over four miles before we will have to park and walk. For those who love history, and love to hike, this will provide a nice day’s worth of enjoyment as we walk to Jean’s hide-a-way.

Moving on north to Stovepipe Wells Village, our next access point takes off right here, basically across the street from the road on the south side of the highway that goes up to Mosaic Canyon in Region Three. Our road leaves the pavement on the northwest side of the highway and heads pretty much due west towards the Cottonwood Mountains of the northern Panamint Range. This road is readily visible from many locations in this geographical area because it heads up the alluvium as it climbs towards our two destination canyons.

We are now heading into Cottonwood Canyon. After about five miles of westward travel, the road makes an abrupt directional change to the north, after which it heads west again and soon enters the canyon mouth after another couple of miles. Class-2 is the main description I’d give for this roadbed, with a few scattered class-3 spots depending on the recent weather modifications to the landscape. Like LeMoigne and other canyon roads discussed earlier, this road is generally rocky and slow going in many places. For those who prefer to avoid rough and bouncy roads, think twice about this one. It’s not difficult however, just slow.

As we enter the canyon, the road curves and heads southwest, and at a point nearly eleven miles from the pavement, we encounter a main fork. To our right, Marble Canyon road exits west, but deadends within two miles. The road used to continue on farther up the canyon, but has been closed in an effort designed to protect historic petroglyphs. As often is unfortunately the case in this disturbed civilized world of ours, malicious vandals play a part in decisions that affect the majority of caring intellectuals who trek to these distant locales to learn about history and geology. The majority of society pays the price for the minuscule minority (generally young males) who think it’s cool to destroy or show off to friends. Very sad.

I don’t mean to get caught up in philosophical discussions on my lecture soapbox, but every once in a while I can’t help it. When I see younger guys tearing up the terrain in their 4×4 rigs, or tossing beer cans out the window, or burning huge bonfires from illegally collected wood in this national park, it disturbs my sense of how humans should interact with the natural world. Hormones and alcohol are typically the culprits in these and other unsettling scenarios. To deal with this truism of life, governmental agencies do what is necessary to prevent wanton destruction of resources. As such, while I’d like to see roads like those in Greenwater Canyon in Region Two open for enjoyment of us backcountry explorers, I also completely understand the government’s reason behind the closure.

The good that comes out of all this negativism is that for those of us who love to hike, we have new hiking environments of immense beauty. This increases our personal health and fitness, and ensures that the prized areas of protection are visited by only those who truly value them. Few egoistical males are willing to hike long distances to scratch up ancient petroglyphs – they’ll destroy things that are easily accessed for the most part. The big downside to closures is that some physically challenged people will never get to see them because they are not able to walk to them. This is unfortunate.

Back to our trip: by parking at the new terminus of Marble Canyon, we can hike far into a world of narrow canyon delight. It is even possible to continue on up to Goldbelt Spring south of Hidden Valley (which we will visit by car later on this trip). Such a hike would work well if we have someone to pick us up at Goldbelt, or leave early enough in the day to hike back down to the vehicle.

Now we travel back down Marble to the Cottonwood Canyon intersection, and turn right, heading farther south in Cottonwood. This road will vary every year, sometimes being a well worn and easily visible two track affair up the sand wash, and other years, after water erosion, being a situation where we kind of pick our path through the large rocks up the wash. Expect class-3 (and maybe even a rare class-4). There is a huge hollowed out cave in here, and farther on up in the vicinity of the road’s end, Cottonwood trees abound. We will find some nice places for overnight camps in Cottonwood Canyon and environs. We can hike another four miles past the end of the road to Cottonwood Spring if we are so inclined.

Returning to Stovepipe Wells Village now, we head east on Highway 190 to the Scotty’s Castle road, and turn left (north) on it. In three miles, a short graded dirt road cuts left towards the sand dunes. It is accessible by any vehicle, and takes us to an old stovepipe that was stuck in the ground years ago to mark a well that provided water. Thus, the name for Stovepipe Wells Village! The name Bungalette City didn’t stick.

From here north on the Scotty’s Castle road, there are no normal backcountry access points for quite a ways. Of course, that doesn’t mean we can’t park anywhere and just take off hiking cross country through the wilderness. Continuing north, we pass the Titus Canyon road from Region Six, and continue on to the parking lot at Ubehebe Crater (check the map – it’s easy to find). This is where the pavement ends. After a visit of the crater, and perhaps a vigorous and very steep hike to its bottom (don’t forget: we have to come back up the same trail), we’ll continue on south through the Racetrack Valley. An interesting point here is that we can hike to the bottom of this crater called Ubehebe (about 770 feet down), and in the same day, hike to the top of a peak called Ubehebe (about 5,678 feet above sea level), next to The Racetrack farther south. That’s 6,448 feet in elevation change, clearly a bodily workout in anyone’s book.

It’s almost twenty miles from Ubehebe Crater to Teakettle Junction, with no spur roads to explore. The route travels between the Last Chance Range to the west and the Cottonwood Mountains to the east (northern Panamint Range). This road is what I rate as class-1, but due to the number of visitors each year, many of whom are driving too fast for safety, the washboards are very severe. If we have a heavy duty suspension on the vehicle, we can expect a very rough and unpleasant ride through the thousands of Joshua trees. Resist the urge to speed up to smooth out the washboards, because there are a few tight turns on this road, and if we are speeding along at fifty miles per hour, attempting to slow quickly for an unexpected turn can cause us to jitter off the side of the road and have an accident – I have personally seen the results of someone who did this. Besides, the speed limit is 35 mph. Play it safe and legal please – remember that the main cause of death in Death Valley National Park these days is the single car rollover.

Finally, after what may seem like an eternity in washboard hell, we reach Teakettle Junction, home of the world famous wooden sign adorned with memorable teakettles! It’s reminiscent of Crankshaft Crossing, but with teapots instead of automobile crankshafts and engine blocks. Both locales certainly make for some interesting photographs. The Teakettle Junction sign has destinations carved into the wood. One destination marker is for The Racetrack straight ahead in six miles, and another is for Hunter Mountain to the left in 18 miles. It is a lonely outpost.

After taking our obligatory photos at the sign, we’ll turn left on the Hunter Mountain fork (the road straight ahead to The Racetrack will be covered in Region Eight). In about a mile and a half, we enter Lost Burro Gap. This is a very short curvy route through here with somewhat narrow cliff sides. It feels like we are going into a secret entrance to somewhere, and really we are – once out the other side in about two minutes (if we don’t stop), we pop out into the northern end of Hidden Valley. Truly, it seems like we’ve entered an unknown landscape, miles from anywhere.

Just a little over three miles from Teakettle Junction, we come to another fork, this one with no sign, so we must rely on our maps. This fork is a four way affair, one option of which we just traveled to get here. Straight ahead goes through Hidden Valley to Hunter Mountain. The right fork (to the west) goes a short way up a steep hill to the Lost Burro gold mine. The left fork heads on up past White Top Mountain, about ten miles to the road’s end. Only continuing straight ahead will take us out of this region, but first, we’ll explore the side spurs.

The Lost Burro mine road is about a mile long, and some years has washouts that will spook a few folks because the road is slightly off camber higher up, so a washout in the middle of an off camber section can be dangerous for rollover potential. If this happens to be the case when we visit, just park and walk the last few yards to the gold mine. Most of this short spur is flat laterally as we drive up the alluvial fan. It’s only the last little stretch that may be adversely affected. Once on the alluvium, we will notice that quite a bit of elevation has been gained from the Hidden Valley road. No camping is allowed here.

Returning to the four-way fork, now let’s head northeast up the White Top Mountain road, which also begins by climbing alluvial deposits, albeit more gentle than those we just encountered. By the way, if we are out here taking all these little side roads, we must make very sure that we have filled our fuel tanks prior to embarking, because it’s a long way to anywhere. Check the map, figure the mileages, and apply that information to the vehicle’s range. Exploring these wonderful backcountry regions does require a certain amount of mathematical homework prior to leaving the final fuel pump. This is extremely remote and unforgiving backcountry.

The wonderful road to White Top Mountain is pure joy for any backcountry explorer! After we climb the initial alluvial grade, the road drops down into a well packed sand wash and then swings more northeasterly into the easy canyonlands. This road is almost entirely class-2 under normal circumstances, and it curves around the hills, up and over, and gently climbs in elevation until it finally reaches an old mining camp. By now, we are in the trees, pinyon and juniper. Past the mine a little ways, there are a few of those unmapped spur roads that allow for some additional exploring in this peaceful area. In places, we can see Death Valley to the east below. Camping in this secluded paradise is very nice. We must however, return to the Hidden Valley road via the same route, but the road is so pleasurable to drive that it is just as much fun coming out. We can’t help but like it! Due to its remoteness, few folks drive here.

Six and a half miles south of the Lost Burro/White Top intersection, Hidden Valley is now behind us. It was an easy class-1 drive on a dusty road, and now we are in the Ulida Flat area. The road curves east, with a few forks here and there that take us to old mine workings near Goldbelt Spring. It is easy to think that a wrong turn could get us lost, but the roads make little loops and return to this main Hunter Mountain road. Goldbelt Spring is the area that can be hiked to from Marble Canyon down below – only about six “crow fly” miles separate the two points. It is reported that many bighorn sheep are known to frequent this environment, and I have read speculation that they come to these canyons to die, and thus a fair amount of bones can be found by determined hikers. I have not hiked this immediate area, so I do not know from personal experience.

From here, as we head farther south towards Hunter Mountain, we notice that the road takes on some very serious elevation, so much so that very tight and steep switchbacks are necessary to reach the tops of the mountains. The road is not technically difficult as it climbs upward, but it is very narrow in spots, rutted, steep, and does contain a few rocks here and there. Thus, I always use four wheel drive while going up it because it’s just easier. If we have a notable fear of heights, we may not enjoy a few stretches. Most of the climb is not problematic though. Once on top, the road is class-2, level, and very fun to drive … if it’s dry. If it’s wet, we simply shouldn’t be up here because the ground seems to be of a clay composition, which means that it gets very sticky and deep with excess water. Yes, people sometimes do have to be winched out of a mudbog in these parts, so don’t get too overly confident. The folks at Panamint Springs may come and pull us out (after we hike for many miles to even get there), but I doubt anyone would enjoy the invoice for services when it’s all said and done.

As my saying goes for many of the Death Valley roadways: “If it’s dry, give it a try. If it’s wet, bad bet!”

There is a neat road up here that I call the Spanish Spring road because it passes a spring by that name. No name is shown on maps. This is a mountainous five mile road connecting the Hunter Mountain road to the tops of mountains overlooking Ulida Flat to the north, and with some hiking around, we may get a view of The Racetrack playa, Lippencott mine area, and the Homestake campsite below to the west and north – bring binoculars. About three miles north in these mountains is where the rocks apparently fall off onto the dry lakebed, where they then are scooted around by winds in foul weather. This area too makes for a great secluded camp.

Back on the main Hunter Mountain road once more, about a mile and a half farther on from the Spanish Spring road, a small spur heads off to the left, south into the dense forest. It is narrow with two tracks and winding curves. Drive slowly in case someone is coming the other way, however meeting traffic in here is rare. This little side road is less than a mile in length, and deadends at Bev Hunter’s old log cabin. It is well hidden in the tightly packed trees, and there are no signs to direct anyone to it. It is really tight going at the very end, and we will be scraping our vehicles against branches, so if small surface scratches are bothersome, do not drive this road to its terminus. I would advise staying out of the cabin, due to the potential of Hantavirus (see the encyclopedia section for a description of this potentially fatal disease).

Heading southwest again from the cabin road, we realize that there are numerous places to pull off the road up here in the pines and pitch an evening tent for a nice overnight, especially in warmer weather (like when it’s scorching in Death Valley below). Hunter Mountain is 7,454 feet high, and is just to the northwest of the roadway prior to heading down. Cross country hiking opportunities abound in the huge rocks towards the western end of the Hunter Mountain area, and distant views of Mount Whitney are here for us to see also. Cell phones work exceptionally well if we are atop one of the massive boulder promontories. From here the road descends to South Pass, a 5,997-foot elevation overlooking the Panamint Valley to the south. On the way to South Pass, we pass Jackass Spring, which can be severely flooded in the springtime, making the road too risky to drive, even in a 4wd vehicle, as the mud can be knee deep at times.

The views at South Pass are certainly worthy of some time spent here. We can see Panamint Springs Resort, the Panamint Dunes, Lake Hill, Telescope Peak, and all the way south to where Ballarat ghost town is. A good set of binoculars will help orient us in this vast expanse.

At South Pass where we now stand, Grapevine Canyon is to our north, and a road down it goes to the Saline Valley, but that will be covered in Region Eight later. We will continue southwest on what is now called the Saline Valley road. This road is similar to the Hunter Mountain road, basically a combination of class-1 and class-2 ratings. After climbing to the road’s high point, it descends into some very nice curvy canyons and drops us out onto Lee Flat after about five miles from the pass. This is an enjoyable and scenic drive! Lee Flat has thousands of Joshua trees everywhere. This is beautiful country out here. No further roads take off into Region Seven from here on to Highway 190, and we just stay left at the two main intersections during the final ten miles to pavement.

REGION EIGHT: SALINE RANGE AND HINTERLANDS

Region Eight is the second largest of the eight, comprising approximately 930 square miles, or 17.82 percent of Death Valley National Park. This is the final region, so our tally should be complete when we add these figures to our running total. According to my figuring, we end up with 5,220 total square miles (one square mile over the official figure of 5,219), and 99.94 percent of DVNP (0.6 of a percent short of the perfect 100). Well, we can’t win them all, right? Like I said when we started this trip, it’s just a rough estimate for the general idea. I offer my apologies to any statistician or cartographer who may be wincing from my casual attitude with numbers.

In any event, let’s define the boundaries for Region Eight, which may not be too hard at this point, as it’s all the land that hasn’t been covered in the previous seven regions. We are talking about the huge swath of land that covers most of the northern portion of the park. There are roughly 155 miles of dirt roadways in this region.

Since its easy to locate, we’ll begin this definition at Ubehebe Crater, work our way around clockwise, returning to this spot in a moment. The boundary line for this region heads south from Ubehebe on the Racetrack Valley road to Teakettle Junction. Region Seven cut off here to the left. Well, for Region Eight, the line goes on south past The Racetrack Playa. Now, this portion is not clearly delineated by a roadbed, as the imaginary line that separates this region from Region Seven through here runs along the mountain ridges that lie between Hidden Valley and The Racetrack Playa. Basically, if we draw a straight line from Teakettle Junction to South Pass, we will get the picture. From South Pass, the boundary is the same Saline Valley road that heads southwest through Lee Flat, on to where it leaves the park. Then the border follows the DVNP boundary line north, all the way around back to Crankshaft Crossing (now that’s a long haul). From Crankshaft, it heads south on the Big Pine-Death Valley road until it hits pavement, and then turns west about three miles back to Ubehebe Crater.

We have already dealt with the area and percentages in the first paragraph, so let’s commence our tour. Might as well start at one of my all-time favorite attractions – Teakettle Junction! There’s not a whole lot here, just an old wooden signpost that continues to deteriorate over the years in the relentless rays of the eternal solar spectacle that reigns supreme nearly every day. A couple of destinations are carved into this regional icon, Hunter Mountain and The Racetrack. What makes it special for me and all who journey this way is what we will find hung all over the dark brown planks … teakettles! Each year the appearance is different. Some disappear. New ones materialize. Some years there are few. Other years we wonder how the wood post supports the weight. It is fun to see what is often written on them.   

In Region Seven, we turned left at this junction and headed up to Hunter Mountain. Today we’ll stay straight on the main road to The Racetrack, the dry lakebed with moving rocks.

A little over two miles southwest on the road, we can stop for a hike or two. The Ubehebe Lead mine is on the right side of the road up in the hills. It’s an easy walk for a fit person. If the encyclopedia entry of “Corridor Canyon” was intriguing, park at the Ubehebe Mine to begin the hike. Before commencing this rugged hike however, consult Michel Digonnet’s book first (mentioned at the beginning of this story). A vigorous hike to the top of Ubehebe Peak, a little over three miles south of Ubehebe Lead mine, is also accessed from this road. The peak is 5,678 feet high, on a strenuous switchback footpath of three miles, and the Saline Valley is visible from atop the peak. If we recently hiked to the bottom of Ubehebe Crater first, 770 feet down, our legs will likely be sore tomorrow. There is truly a lot to do and see around this valley.

Near the trailhead to Ubehebe Peak, park on the east side of the road at the NPS placard for a geologic oddity named The Grandstand. This is another enjoyable hike, out across the very flat playa, and up the massive rock outcropping. Bring binoculars and watch the racing rocks from The Grandstand – well, we won’t actually see anything move, especially since most of the participants primarily congregate at the southern end of this dry lake, over a mile distant, and the weather for this to happen is so terribly foul, we would never be here under those conditions.

As we drive that next mile or so, we see another National Park Service placard on the left, this one for The Racetrack, which is the dry lake where we are. To see these rocks and the pathways they leave in the surface of the playa requires a round trip hike of about a mile from the dirt road. For people who are disabled or not fit enough to make the trek, excellent photographs are on this large sign. One thing about this hike that differentiates it from the canyon called Corridor is that this hike is the epitome of flatness. It is so flat and easy that a wheelchair could be used to take a disabled explorer out to see the moving boulders. Definitely don’t forget the camera when setting off on foot! No camping is allowed here, nor is driving on the lakebed.

If we want to hang around for evening or early morning photos of this rare phenomenon, we are in luck because there is a designated primitive campground just beyond the southern end of the lake called Homestake. Well, actually, it’s not totally primitive. There is an outhouse (at last check).

At Homestake Campground we may also take off south on foot for a 7.5 mile hike past Big Dodd Spring and into Grapevine Canyon, about three miles north of South Pass. That’s one way … up! If we have a daring driver who wishes to traverse the Lippencott road and then head up to South Pass, we could be picked up at the other end (this might be a choice if we are an experienced hiker, and prefer not to ride down a very rough and rocky road with a nasty reputation in a vehicle). Camping out here is a solitary experience often times. NPS prohibits camping near the playa. Another remote attraction we may wish to visit here is the Lippencott Lead mine on the hillside. If we have spare time and love to hike, it may be on our list.

Well, having spent a nice night at Homestake, and taken photos of the moving boulders with pleasing shadows this morning, it’s time we depart on our virtual trip today down the infamous Lippencott road, which might be more than we wish to drive. Do not attempt this next part of the trip if alone, new to backroad driving, or without a high clearance 4wd vehicle with low range gearing. The condition of the road on the first four mile descent of the steep mountainsides is primarily class-3, with occasional class-4. Depending on the year, we might even find class-5, but it’s not likely. If a weather event was severe enough, a washout could conceivably make the narrow shelf road impassible in places. That’s the fun of this road however – not knowing ahead of time what we might find. If we do come upon a washout, be advised that turning around may not be a convenient option, which could require backing up a ways. Only attempt Lippencott if well experienced in backroad navigation – we are just too far out to be taking any chances! We can drive a 2wd automobile to The Racetrack, but not here.

By the way, the precarious mountain section of the Lippencott road is not shown on the Automobile Club AAA map, but it does appear on the Tom Harrison map and the NPS maps. Tom’s map indicates the road as “Extremely rough road – short wheel base 4wd” and the NPS maps as: “Lippencott road conditions require experienced 4 wheel drivers.” Heed these accurate warnings!

The last three miles of the Lippencott road are easy, across the southern end of the Saline Valley. This final portion of the road is class-2 mostly, with maybe a class-3 burp here and there. There are plenty of creosote bushes at the bottom in case we feel the need to empty the bladder after all the driving excitement! While we are out of our vehicles answering nature’s call, let’s check the rims of our wheels after this Lippencott road traverse, as it tends to ding them up a bit.

Before traveling on north in this valley, I’ll take a brief time to mention some roadways to the south, in the southwestern corner of Region Eight. This intersection where we’re now parked is where the Lippencott road and the Saline Valley road meet. Following the Saline Valley road south, we climb through Grapevine Canyon (not to be confused with the Grapevine Canyon near Scotty’s Castle) up to South Pass. Most of the time, this is drivable by a standard passenger car, as it is graded and smooth, and the few stream crossings are minimal. During winter, this can change of course, and it might be snowbound at the pass, making this traverse hazardous. Be aware that ranchers driving large pickup trucks with trailers use this road to move animals (I’ve met one or two), so take the blind curves slowly please!

Moving farther south to Lee Flat, there are some delightful exploration possibilities here. Seven miles southwest of South Pass (or about eight miles north of Highway 190), we note two access roads about a mile apart that head west (this forms a triangle on the map). This is an exciting drive, with the main class-1 road taking us northwest through Lee Flat’s Joshua forest and ultimately high up onto the ridges of the Inyo Mountains. The Nelson Range is to the east across Lee Flat. This is the road we will want to take when accessing the Cerro Gordo mining camp, which is outside the DVNP boundary. The views are spectacular, the road breathtaking, and the memories worth capturing on the digital camera. We can stay in rooms of an old boarding house at Cerro Gordo – makes for a great time reliving history!

Prior to getting up on the high road to Cerro Gordo, we will reach an area of three forks, a couple of which are short deadend roads that take off to the right on Lee Flat, heading up canyons in the Nelson Range. These roads can be class-2 to class-3 in difficulty, and they take us to some rather isolated spots where most folks don’t go. So, if we seek solitude, we may find them worth our time investigating, especially the middle of the three forks, which is about three miles in length. I love the peacefulness of this country out here.

That provides some insight about this southernmost corner of Region Eight, so we’ll head on back to the intersection of the Lippencott and Saline Valley roads now. This road is wide and graded, making it a class-1 route. We notice passenger cars out here, driven by adventurous folks who come for the hot spring pools, which we’ll discuss in a moment. In the dead of a severe winter with lots of snow, the Saline Valley can be cut off on both ends where South Pass (elevation: 5,997) and North Pass (elevation: 7,300) allow ingress. For anyone wanting to come here during snowy times, which actually could be fun in the hot tubs, access might have to be gained via the Lippencott (elevation: 3,876) or Steel Pass roads (elevation: 5,075). We’ll talk about Steel Pass in a little bit here.

About eleven miles north of the Lippencott intersection, is a four way intersection. The road to the right is very short and stops at a salt marsh. This area out here is where the Saline Valley salt tram used to haul the stuff up over the Inyo Mountains over into the Owens Valley by Keeler. What a difficult accomplishment that was! Some of the tram supports are still standing on the route, including up on the high ridges above the Cerro Gordo mining camp. The road to the left at this intersection deteriorates and deadends up on the mountainside in less than two miles. Along this road on the left (west) side, a few other roads head into the hills to old mining operations, which are outside park boundaries.

Continuing north on the Saline Valley road another nine miles, we come to the Saline Valley Sand Dunes on the right, and another intersection. Usually at this juncture, we notice a huge tire. This gigantic tire is what the caretaker of the hot springs uses to drag along behind his truck to smooth out the roadbed that cuts off to the right here to access the springs and campgrounds in about seven miles. The tire is used to make the road easy enough for adventurous people in lower clearance vehicles. This intersection is about mid valley.

If we were to follow the Saline Valley road on north at this point, we would top out at the saddle of North Pass in another twenty miles. The elevation here is 7,300 feet, which is definitely snow country during the winter! Descending the northern side of North Pass will put us on the paved road to Big Pine in a few more miles. This is now outside the DVNP boundary line. Three miles north of North Pass, we can cut off right to access Jackass Flats, a small valley area cradled in an obscure corner of this national park where very few visitors ever explore. It’s about five miles to the road’s end and grand seclusion.

Anyway, let’s now turn right at that huge tire I mentioned a minute ago. Of course, if the caretaker is using it, then it won’t be at the intersection. If he is using it to drag the road, we will know because a massive dust cloud will be rambling along in the distance due east. Or, maybe he found another way to smooth out the road. It’s always a gamble when an author says to turn at something like the old plastic milk jug, or some other temporary human-made landmark.

Where does this road lead? Well, it’s quite a road, with many surprises in  store for the adventurous explorer! Traveling about six miles east on this class-2 dirt road, we cross little dry sandwashes, and slowly progress over bumps and berms until we arrive at the reason why most people head out this way: a natural hot springs with camping. Oh, and it’s clothing optional, by the way, so we should keep our eyes on the road if this kind of thing is bothersome. The outhouse here has very artistic paintings inside of desert creatures, which is good for one’s psyche because the smell is bad for one’s nose. We are going on northeast an exceptionally long distance, so if we have to take care of a “number two” we better do it now!

Much relieved, let’s proceed. These next 25 miles or so are the most remote of remote miles we have likely ever driven. It’s no place to break down. Always come with at least two vehicles, plenty of emergency supplies, and a surplus of food and water. Not only that, but this road is obscure in portions, sometimes requiring a little reconnoitering on foot to determine the route. This is due to the extremely rocky surface that defies the mark of tires. This road takes us northeasterly between the Saline Range and the Last Chance Range, up over Steel Pass, down through Dedeckera Canyon, and ultimately deposits us at the Eureka Sand Dunes National Natural Landmark, where once again we pick up a wide and graded class-1 roadway. Until we get to the dunes however, the road will vary from class-2 all the way to class-4. This is not a trip for the inexperienced or those without a high clearance 4wd vehicle that has low-range capabilities. The drive in includes sandwashes.

This road redefines the meaning of a rocky road, with literally incalculable millions of mostly football sized rocks everywhere as far as the eye can see. The drive is about the slowest one could ever imagine – we could hike faster. We climb progressively higher in elevation, from 2,241 feet in the Saline Valley to 5,075 feet at Steel Pass, a gain of approximately 2,834 feet in roughly 19 miles. A few miles out from the hot springs, we look northward quite a fair distance onto the side of the Saline Range and notice a colossal peace sign reminiscent of the 1960s, appearing to have been the work of some rather dedicated folks wishing to express their desire for social reform. I have never hiked over to it, so I can only speculate as to its true size, but it must be quite large, seeing as how it’s so visible from this distance.

As we approach the final stretch to Steel Pass, the road deteriorates and becomes rather constricted, which demands considerable concentration, and four wheel drive engaged, to keep our sheet metal from contacting the large rock outcroppings just outside our doors. Compared to Lippencott, this is fairly tame, but still worth taking our time. The final few yards are noticeably off camber, a sideways tilt condition that spooks most sane folks, but it’s not severe enough to turn the vehicle over (although one may think differently while on it). At the top, a road heads off easterly up the slope of the Last Chance Range. This road is off limits, now in a wilderness area where vehicular travel is prohibited. I have been here when no signage or barriers were present, and also when flexible plastic markers were in the ground. My latest word is that the NPS has placed a line of rocks across that road sufficient to keep out vehicles. This road is essentially in a restricted corridor that prohibits vehicular travel on either side of the roadbed.

Oh, I forgot to mention Marble Bath that we just passed. We have to hike to it, not far south of the pass summit. Since I don’t do GPS personally, I do not have the coordinates to this white bathtub that sits out here full of blue marbles. It’s not far southwest of Marble Mountain, a 7,559-foot sentinel in the Last Chance Range. Of course, finding these types of bizarre oddities the old fashioned way with terrain based clues is a lot more fun than zeroing in on it with the precision of a military warplane. That’s my take anyway!

So, moving forward with our trip, we take the left fork, a very wide class-2 road that begins to gently descend in the wide and lonely valley that drains into Dedeckera Canyon. The maps I have disclose no names for this valley or the one we just came up, but we will see them if following along with a map right now, and we can also identify and follow the road using Google Earth on our computers. There is one downhill that is moderately steep, but it’s firm ground, short duration, and really no danger. I rate this road as class-2 until we tumble down into Dedeckera (maybe that wasn’t the best wording). There is quite a bit of volcanic rock all over the place out here, some of it appearing very black.

Dedeckera Canyon has several rock ledges that we must drive over, safely classified as class-4. They are intimidating to new backroad drivers, but pose little problem for experienced folks with high clearance 4wd rigs. Driving down them is easier than driving the other direction. This canyon is very unique and I would suggest proceeding slowly, parking, and doing a lot of hiking in here. The walls are steep and dark, and the feelings of solitude are unparalleled. Few people make this trip, which virtually guarantees a private passage. As we stand in the canyon during late afternoon, we are shaded, and we glance back east to see the mighty Last Chance Range, brightly lit with its yellow colored bands. It’s a splendid locale!

We are driving in hard packed sand as we exit into daylight again, with the incredible Eureka Sand Dunes now unmistakably looming ahead. The road to them is a class-2 snap compared to everything else we’ve traveled today. Partly cloudy days near sunset make for absolutely stunning photographs that we will want to frame for our walls. The sandy dunes are nearly 700 feet high, can be hiked from bottom to top, and have a nice primitive campground at their northern base. Although I have not been here during a windy day, they say the sand dunes make barking noises, which I like to think of as singing. Come here to celebrate life where wilderness sings!

We are now in the Eureka Valley, and only a wide and well graded ten mile class-1 road separates us from the border to Death Valley National Park. It is very washboarded, and not pleasant to drive, but these rough roads out here are precisely what make all the hidden treasures so worth the visit – when most people can’t access somewhere special, then that somewhere special is even more special in my view. This final stretch of road exits onto the Big Pine-Death Valley road, about a half mile west of Hanging Rock Canyon, which we traveled in Region Six.

That brings to a close the backcountry tour. For those who wish to experience more, two options are available. In the book, Exploring Wild Death Valley, a Primordial World of Discovery and Adventure, readers partner with me in multi-day treks covering many of the same roads, trails, and locales mentioned in this story. The book is an accounting of my personal travels in the Death Valley territory over the course of my atypical wild life. To view numerous photographs of these same backcountry locales and treks, visit the website WildDeathValley.com, which is dedicated to opening the farthest reaches of the realm to anyone with a computer and some time.

WIT FOR THE BACKCOUNTRY TRAVELER

Backcountry exploration, travel on unpaved primitive roads, and hiking far from human habitation can endanger you and your vehicle. Such activity carries with it inherent risks including, but not limited to, tire punctures, sheet metal damage from rocks, paint scratches, vehicular destruction, hypothermia, dehydration, starvation, wild animal attack, consequences from medical problems arising in the absence of a medical professional, and death.

You may be bitten by a cantankerous rattlesnake, stung by an anti-social scorpion, or have your eyes poked out by an inconsiderate vulture. You may fall into a bottomless mine shaft, get stuck by a prickly cactus needle, or be swept away by an inopportune flash flood. You may run out of gas ninety-seven miles from pavement, be buried by a turbulent sandstorm, or drop to the ground mumbling incoherently about needing water as you dry into a mummified carcass. You may also be scalded by a steaming brew at Teakettle Junction, be struck by a speeding boulder at The Racetrack during hurricane-force winds, or you could beat the devil at eighteen holes on his favorite golf course (and you know where that will send you). To leave no stone unturned, you may be abducted by interstellar creatures on Sarcobatus Flat (a known good landing site in Nevada), or you may even be struck by lightning while reading this story.

If you should make an effort to travel any of the remote foregoing routes described, realize that you do so entirely of your own free will and at your own peril. The responsibility is all yours. I have made it back safely for more than 50 years – you may experience different results. However, I wish you well … SAIN YAVAARAI, or safe trip, as the Mongolians wish friends.

May all your travels be wild, your shoes stay tied, and the mountain lions already be well-fed.