Death Valley & Joshua Tree

Sometimes the story is better than the experience

After a night lost within Death Valley, I stumble upon a campsite at 10:15.  It’s too dark, too eerie, and too hot to set up camp, so I am resolved to spend the night in the car.  At about 2:30 a.m. two tall bearded men start getting closer and closer to my vehicle.  At first, it seems like they are lost, then it seems like they are plotting an attack, and when one of them brushed up against my taillight, I decide it’s time to turn on the car and drive away.  I freak out, try to start the car in a hurry, and disable the starter.  My car won’t start, won’t lock, and I am in the middle of Death Valley with two tall strangers looming in the half moon lit sky.  I begin to freak out, wonder if I should call the cops, hundreds of miles away from cops, wonder if I should call AAA, not terribly appropriate to call AAA at 3 am.  Last thought is to call home.  I decided better not to scare my parents.  I finally get my car to lock, and I count Mississippi’s until I pass out.  At 5 a.m., I wake up to dawn’s light, and at 7 a.m. am greeted by two post college photographers with scrubby unshaven beards, head to toe decked in camera gear apologizing if they startled me while they were taking pictures of shooting stars ( the shooting stars I saw that night were phenomenal even amidst my paranoia).  I freaked out over nothing, but that will forever be the night that my car broke down in the middle of Death Valley with two ominous strangers hovering around me.

Flash forward to night two in Joshua Tree.  I had always heard great tidbits from the few visitors who made it all the way down to Joshua Tree.  As I rolled into the park and found my campground, I was just in time to set up for sunset shots, which are supposed to be spectacular within the park.  Three men approached me, one I had recognized from the night before in Death Valley.  He spoke first and said he remembered me from the night before; I was wearing this or that.  I parted ways to get to the perfect spot to take dusk pictures.  They followed me, but the other two disappeared and it was the one friendly stranger who asked me why I was by myself, where was I staying for the night, told me I was pretty tried to hug me and then when I shrugged the hug told me my shirt was nice and began to pet it.   In retrospect, he was probably just on mushrooms trying to enjoy the intensity of Joshua Tree and get a little high with a few friends.  And if I was with a few friends and a little less sober or in a familiar place, I may not have freaked out.  However, when you are in butt fucking Egypt at dusk and you’re a petite young woman alone, sometimes to error on the side of caution is best.  Since there were only two open campgrounds in the park, and he knew my car, I broke down and called home.  An hour and a half later, I checked into a Homewood Suites in Palm Desert.  That will forever be the night that I narrowly escaped a psychedelic predator.

I think the reason people want to travel to places like Death Valley and Joshua Tree is for the story.  Names like “Devil’s Golf Course” and “Inferno” strike up story worthy imagery.  Even the name “Death Valley” with temperature in the 130s elicits a certain unworldly severity.

 I visited Scotty’s castle, a phantom castle in the middle of nowhere in the northern reaches of Death Valley.  A castle built on fables, playful deceit, and an unlikely friendship between a Chicago millionaire and a swindling cowboy who swore the castle was his own and a gold mine was buried below its foundation.  This castle enticed travelers to visit the area, supposedly rich with gold and 180 degrees in the shade, and to meet Scotty, the devious, embellishing cowboy with a lifetime full of stories and adventures about this remote but mystifying place. 

All these years later, people still venture through this area for a chance to experience their own story.  Whether it’s a young woman escaping night villains or a young man getting stoned in the mystifying desert of Joshua Tree or two photographers in search of the perfect shooting star or perfect sunrise, there is something spectacular that in the age of the internet there are still places where mystery exist and adventures are uncharted.

That said if you want the highlights and low lights without the sweat and gas mileage; here is my take.  I would take the time to drive through Death Valley, preferably close to sunset or sunrise.  I would watch dawn or dusk at Zabriski Point or Sand Dunes.  I would make sure to visit the Sand Dunes, Artist’s Drive, Badwater Basin, Devil’s Golf Course (unless you have seen salt fields in spectacular places like Chilean desert).  I would probably skip the rest.  If you find yourself in the park for longer period, the tour of Scotty’s Castle is entertaining and the ranger does a great job bringing the story to life.    I would also drive through the Mojave Desert, just spectacular roadside vistas.  As for Joshua Tree, I was only there a short afternoon and evening, but I just didn’t get it.  Not to mention the creeper and the less than remarkable sunset.  I guess I would make sure to plan visit around astrologically significant dates.  That said, everyone’s adventure is different, and if I was writing from the perspective of the mushroom creeper, I might describe Joshua Tree as a life highlight.

 As I spend a lot, a lot of time alone in the last few weeks, I am increasingly aware of how each person has their own story, their own life events, their own hardships and triumphs that make up their identity.  I am also aware that is a spectacular moment in my own story, a nine week chapter that is leaving a lifetime of impressions.