Telescope Peak, Death Valley National Park

Telescope Peak in summer

Telescope Peak, in my mind, is a hike full of contrasts. In 2002, I solo climbed Mt. Whitney in day at the end of May, and then got in my car and drove into Death Valley to camp at Mahogany Flat. At sunrise, I was up and on the Telescope Peak trail, and after a few hours of vigorous hiking, had summited Telescope, Bennett, and Rogers well before the day was half over. On that day, it felt like the trail positively flew away under my feet. Then again, I suppose anything after Mt. Whitney the day before would seem easy. However, on a subsequent trip to Telescope Peak, the stretch of trail from Arcane Meadows to the summit seemed to me to be the longest trail ever created. Two things are clear about the Telescope Peak trail: first, that it winds up and around to the 11,331 summit of Telescope Peak, which is the highest mountain in Death Valley National Park and the Panamint Range; and second, that it has stunning views of the surrounding terrain.

 Telescope Peak in early winter (Yes, there is snow!)

Directions: If you’re headed to Telescope Peak, you’re going to want to start from the trailhead at the Mahogany Flat Campground. Directions to Mahogany Flat are found here in my post covering Telescope’s neighboring peak, Rogers Peak: http://lastadventurer.com/last-adventurers-fieldnotes/2012/2/22/rogers-peak-death-valley-national-park.html.

From Mahogany Flat, the trailhead is readily apparent as it starts from the parking area adjacent to the campground. You will want to sign the logbook before starting on the trail, in order to let the National Park Service know where you are headed in case you have a problem for whatever reason. From the logbook, the trail heads up along the Eastern side of Rogers Peak. Alternatively, if you want to bag Rogers, Bennett, and Telescope in a day, you can start your hike by heading up the NPS access road described in my Rogers Peak post above, before meeting up again with the main Telescope Peak trail at Arcane Meadows. At this point, let’s discuss how the trail to Telescope Peak is: if you read the NPS account, and many of the links below, as well as others, the hike is described as “strenuous”, as you gain ~3000 feet in elevation to the summit from Mahogany Flat over the course of seven miles (7) one way.

 View of the Sierra Nevadas from Arcane Meadow

To a certain extent, I agree: any fourteen mile round-trip hike at an elevation between 8,000-11,000 feet is not easy. But strenuous? I think this depends on your physical conditioning, and whether you are acclimatized. In my opinion, if you are hiking this trail in spring, fall, or summer, when there is no snow, it is a moderate hike. During these times, your biggest concerns will be two things: dehydration and acclimatization. I find the hike during these times to be very relaxing and a moderate hike. Yes, you are experiencing substantial elevation gain; but then again, you have a long distance to do so – seven miles each way. I think the elevation gain is by and large, very gradual over the distance involved, which in conditions with no snow, makes it moderate in my book. If there is snow – which if you are going in winter, you should be prepared for with the appropriate gear – ice axes and crampons – the hike is definitely strenuous – but at that point, it’s more of a climb than a hike.

 View of Death Valley proper, from the Telescope Peak summit

In any case, as you head up from Mahogany Flat, the trail is well marked, graded, and winds around up toward Arcane Meadows. During the last half mile before Arcane Meadows, you will be on a section of trail that drops off to the South. Through this stretch, I would recommend watching your footing on the shale rocks so as to avoid a nasty fall. After this section of trail, you will crest a slight rise and be in Arcane Meadows at  9,263 feet; you will know you are in Arcane Meadows as it is nearly completely flat (the definition of a meadow), and there is a rock cairn built by former hikers next to the trail. From Arcane Meadows, the trail continues its slow-but-sure ascent up to the summit of Telescope while passing Bennett Peak. During this time, there are fantastic views to the West (of the Sierra Nevada) and to the East (of Death Valley proper). The last section of trail before the summit is the steepest; however, if you have made it this far, there is probably little doubt that you will make the summit. From the summit, there is an amazing three hundred and sixty degree view of the surrounding area; and on a clear day, to Charleston Peak by Las Vegas, and to the Sierra Nevadas to the North and West. Once you’re done taking in the view, you will head back down the way you came, unless you are traversing over Bennett and Rogers, as described in my previous post.

 Tips: As discussed above, and in the post about Rogers, if you are heading out to attempt this hike or climb in winter, do take the proper gear, as there will be ice and snow. It is also worth noting that most, if not all of the hike is exposed after Arcane Meadows, and even in the summer, there can be strong gusting winds that can affect a hiker. And, while this is a great summer hike to beat the 114 degree heat of Death Valley proper, do take lots of water to avoid dehydration as it is quite dry, even at that elevation.

 Telescope Peak summit, looking North.

More Information: http://www.nps.gov/deva/planyourvisit/upload/Telescope%20&%20Wildrose%20Peaks-2.pdf, http://www.dankat.com/swhikes/tscope.htm, http://www.summitpost.org/telescope-peak/150584

Rogers Peak, Death Valley National Park

NPS Service Road up toward Rogers Peak

My favorite thing about Death Valley National Park is the variety that the park provides. The park has the things that everyone expects – blazing hot temperatures, Badwater, and classic desert terrain. But the park also has innumerable things that most visitors don’t expect, such as the Charcoal Kilns (http://lastadventurer.com/last-adventurers-fieldnotes/2012/2/21/charcoal-kilns-death-valley-national-park.html) and great mountaineering. Yes, that’s right, I said great mountaineering. The most popular mountaineering is on a cluster of mountains – Telescope Peak, Rogers Peak, Bennett Peak, and Wildrose Peak - that are located in the Panamint Mountains. Out of these mountains, Rogers Peak, at 9,994 feet is the easiest to summit, and is a great short day hike from the Mahogany Flat campground.

Directions:  From inside Death Valley, you will follow Emigrant Canyon Road for twenty one miles; after twenty-one miles, the road is known as Wildrose Canyon Road. Continue following the road, and at mile marker twenty four, the road will become unpaved, mostly graded gravel. If you are entering the park on Wildrose Canyon Road, you will turn right at the stop sign and continue up the road. After the Charcoal Kilns, the road ascends uphill to Mahogany Flat, and depending on the season, or NPS road repair, may be uneven and or rutted out. I personally would recommend some sort of AWD or 4WD vehicle to ascend the last section, but I have to admit that I’ve seen daring sedans climbing the mountain. Do also note that in winter the road may be impassable due to snow or ice as the base elevation is around ~7500 feet.

 Looking down toward Death Valley from the NPS Rogers Peak Service Road

From the Mahogany Flat campground parking area, there is a trailhead that is clearly marked with an entry box that heads toward Telescope Peak, as well as a fire access/service road. If you want to head up the Telescope Peak Trail, you can do so, and travel cross-country toward the summit of Rogers Peak once you reach Arcane Meadows (at approximately three miles). You will know that you are headed for the correct mountain as Rogers Peak is covered with NPS communications and weather watching equipment. At this point, you can head back down the fire access road for a roundtrip loop of around six miles.

Alternatively, you can head up the fire access/service road from Mahogany Flat toward the summit of Rogers Peak. This is the route I took with my climbing group in 2010, and it was a great pre-Mt. Whitney warm up. The route follows the road, and it is impossible to get lost from: all you have to do is follow the road (just like Dorothy in the Wizard of Oz). While the route is rather steep, it also has some great flat expanses, and great views of the Panamint Range, as well as Death Valley below. Once you reach the summit, you can marvel at the view of Telescope Peak, the highest point in the park to the South, and the three hundred and sixty degree view of Death Valley, the Sierra Nevadas, and many other geologic features that are all around you.

 Snow! It does exist in Death Valley (taken 6/2010)

You can also crack jokes, like my group did about the NPS equipment at the summit, and if you are fans of the television show Lost, you may think that you have found a sonic fence to block the smoke monster. Or, since Lost is long over, you can come up with your own purpose for the NPS Roger’s Peak Outpost (aliens? Zombie survival?). Following the road, and the road only, the hike will run you five and a quarter miles (5.25) roundtrip. Roundtrip, I’d say the hike is moderate, as it is all downhill on the way back (easy), but all uphill toward the summit (strenuous).

The most popular way to climb Rogers Peak is part of a three-or-two peak summit bid involving Telescope Peak and Bennett Peak. If you are headed to Telescope Peak first, you can follow the Telescope Peak Trail, and then travel cross country on your return trip over Bennett, and then across Arcane Meadows, as described above to Rogers, before heading down the road, or, start your hike on the road to Rogers, then Bennett, then Telescope, before returning to Mahogany Flat.

Part of the Rogers Peak "sonic fence"? :) 

Tips: I feel like I shouldn’t have to say this as Rogers Peak is over 9,000 feet, but a common assumption is that since this peak is in Death Valley, there is no snow or ice on the peak ever. The Panamint Range does receive a substantial amount of precipitation during the winter, and during this time, it is common for all three of the peaks – Bennett, Rogers, and Telescope to be well-covered in snow. As such, should you be planning a winter ascent, be prepared for the winter conditions, just as you would in any other mountain range. Fun fact: if you are over six (6) feet tall, your head will be at or above ten thousand feet, and your feet will be in the nine thousand foot range should you find the high spot at Rogers’ summit of 9,994 feet.

More Information: http://www.summitpost.org/rogers-bennett/172096, http://www.birdandhike.com/Hike/DEVA/Rogers_Rd/_Rog_Rd.htm, http://socalpeaks.com/2011/07/telescope-peak-rogers-peak/, http://www.nps.gov/deva/planyourvisit/upload/Telescope%20&%20Wildrose%20Peaks-2.pdf

Charcoal Kilns, Death Valley National Park

The Charcoal Kilns Interpretive Panel

Back in the near-distant past, after dinosaurs roamed the Earth, I decided that I wanted to climb Telescope Peak. At that point, I didn’t know much about Death Valley other than what I had read and researched. I know that this was truly a long time ago, perhaps during part of the dark ages, because I had gleaned most of my information from actual books and paper maps. I left after work for the desert, and by the time I reached Emigrant Canyon Road within the park, it was very late. As my car glided over the curvy pavement like a giant bat, my eyes drooped slightly. Suddenly, my high beams caught a glimpse of something grey, brown and large on the road. Automatically, my foot hit the brake before I could say “Blue Moon”. My SUV skidded on its antilock brakes for a split-second before coming to rest.

Astonished, I stared at the herd of wild burros that were crossing the road in an utterly nonchalant manner. After that, I was awake. A couple of miles later, my breathing had slowed to a normal pace when my high beams again caught a glimpse of something off the road. I slowed and stared. It looked like there were…stone structures? I immediately rubbed my eyes. I knew that I was over twenty miles away from any sort of civilization. But yet, there were buildings there. I pulled off the dirt road, in case any burros needed to pass me at one in the morning, and stared. There were ten identical buildings, all made from stone, standing tall and silent in the night. Each stone dome had one door at ground level.

Since I still couldn’t believe what I was seeing, I stopped the car, and crossed over the gravel to the nearest structure. Once inside, there was the distinctive faint odor of long burned fire, and a far window that let in the starlight.

The Charcoal Kilns in winter (2012)

After I stood there for a moment in the black silence, my mind started to wander to plotlines from every B-grade horror movie I had ever seen: strange structures in the desert; no one around; and an unwary lone wanderer potentially meeting a dire fate. I shuddered against the pre-dawn cold and my imagination and wandered back to my car, but not before giving the structures one last wary look. And that was the first time I went to the infamous Charcoal Kilns of Death Valley.

Today, if I’m in Death Valley, I always try and stop by the kilns, because even though they may not have any role in a B-grade horror movie, they are interesting buildings from a lost world. Per the National Park Service, the kilns were constructed “…by the Modock Consolidated Mining Company in 1877 to provide a source of fuel suitable for use in two smelters adjacent to their group of lead-silver mines in the Argus Range west of Panamint Valley, about 25 miles distant from the kilns.” (http://www.nps.gov/deva/historyculture/charcoalkilns.htm).

Charcoal Kilns in summer.

I find it fascinating that these structures are still standing; and I also am amazed by the amount of work it must have taken to build and operate them in a location that is basically in the middle of nowhere. So, if you’re in Death Valley to climb some peaks, view the desert, or for any other reason, I highly recommend that you stop by the Charcoal Kilns, and write your own story involving them.

Directions: Follow Emigrant Canyon Road for twenty four miles; after twenty one miles, the road is also known as Wildrose Canyon Road. At mile marker twenty four, the road becomes unpaved, and is mostly graded gravel. Follow this road for four more miles, and you will be at the kilns. There is no way to miss these structures from the road.

Back of the Charcoal Kilns

Tips: In wintertime, as pictured above, the last four miles of the road can become choked with varying amounts of snow and or ice, as well as runoff. Judge the conditions accordingly to determine if your vehicle can traverse the terrain without getting stuck.

More Information: http://digital-desert.com/death-valley-history/wildrose-kilns.html, http://www.hikespeak.com/ca-desert/dv/charcoal-kilns-death-valley/, http://www.yelp.com/biz/charcoal-kilns-death-valley, (if you come in from Trona, you might have this reaction here, that I had: http://lastadventurer.com/last-adventurers-fieldnotes/2010/5/18/the-unexpected-lurks-everywhere-in-the-desert-from-factories.html)

 Charcoal Kilns, Winter 2012

The Mojave Desert Tortoise Application and CA Desert Application

It used to be that you'd head out to the wilderness with nothing but a map, compass, and dagnabit, a film camera on your back, along with other things that comprised your ten essentials. That was then - and this is now. Today, most of us carry a smartphone, which, among other things, can be your camera, GPS unit, map repository, and many other things. I'm an avid iPhone user, and I definitely am always looking for new applications to go along with my existing group of battery draining applications.

Since I've been talking about the desert for the last couple weeks, it seemed like a good idea to review two of my new favorite desert related applications.

Watch for Tortoise!The first is the Mojave Desert Tortoise App, and it can be found here: http://itunes.apple.com/us/app/mojave-desert-tortoise/id400806083?mt=8 . This is a great little app that has a quick quiz about the Mojave Desert Tortoise and its lifestyle, as well as handy facts, should you be lucky enough to see one, and even more importantly, should you be lucky enough to see one, a way to take a picture and upload it to researchers seeking to better understand and protect the tortoise - so, like the sign says - "Watch for Desert Tortoise"(!). (As a hint, now would not be a good time to use this app, as the Tortoises are hibernating).

Second, and equally as helpful is the California Desert Application, which can be found here: http://itunes.apple.com/us/app/ca-desert/id431028825?mt=8. This is a great little app with an intereactive map of desert areas, an interactive interface regarding different activities that are available in these areas, and a section for recent news and events going on in those areas.

Also, the best news about these apps is that they are both free, so should you have an iPhone, and plan to be out exploring in the local Southern Californian Deserts, be sure to check them out!

See you on the Interwebs!

The unexpected lurks everywhere in the desert, from factories in Trona, to snow in Death Valley.

An expected desert view, hot, dry, and dusty atop Wildrose Peak

I could hear the slight rumble from my engine as I stood next to the car. Actually, it was more of a feeling. The vibrations of the idling engine were pushing heat against my hand as I stood and wondered what exactly I was looking at. The stacks from the larger buildings pushed against the black sky, and the yellow lights spat cold light in every direction lower, partially illuminating the mountains and valley. I knew it was a factory. I could hear it grumbling and rumbling as it did something with the sounds of industry. What was odd, though, was that I didn’t see any people. It was like something out of a post-apocalyptic novel, in which the denizens of the town around the factory were consumed by the machines, or where the survivors gathered to hold off hordes of enemies. It was also cold. I shuddered, climbed back into my car, and made a mental note that I’d come back later.

A year later, I was in my car under the cold skies of late spring driving across the Searles Valley when I remembered that mental note. Oh yeah, this was the place I saw that weird factory. For a second, I chalked it up to some sort of midnight mirage – I had been driving too long, and had been too tired, and imagined the whole thing. Then, I saw it again. Not only it, but all of its attendant buildings. The town of Trona. I stopped again. Pulled over my car, and stared. It was 2:14 p.m. There were no sounds of people, but only machines. The wind whistled around me. I looked at the dull bits of the factory; the stripped paint of older buildings; and where people had repaired and built newer structures. It seemed a bit more reasonable, but still – off. I considered walking into the town, strolling between buildings, looking for people, but decided that such an action was first a little weird, and second, maybe a little rude. After all, people definitely lived here – probably liked it (hopefully), and they didn’t need some person poking around their alleys just because he had an overactive imagination. Also, I decided against looking around because I had visions of undead residents chasing me down hard packed empty streets.

Later, I did the research, and found out that Trona has always been a mining town – mining borax and other salts – was a company town, and might still be considered one today. (http://en.wikipedia.org/wiki/Trona,_California, http://www.trona-ca.com/). And, as far as anyone knew, there were no zombies there, or, apparently, green grass on the football field. Certainly, to me it serves to illustrate that even in the remote corners of the world, man and his work lurks, for good or evil. The drive from Trona, through the Searles valley, in my mind is also pretty as the neighboring ranges sprout up from the ground in brown and granite walls. Certainly, as you drive into the Panamint Valley, the road sports some very interesting scenery.

Snow atop the above pictured peaks during the winter/spring season.Back in April, my view was obscured by swirling high clouds that clung to the peaks as the last remnants of a spring storm blew through. As I pulled into Death Valley National Park through the Wildrose Road/Pass, the clouds were clearing, and I could see snow in the Panamint Range. This goes to illustrate a second point about deserts: while you might expect deserts to be dry, arid places, at times, they can receive all sorts of interesting weather. I’ve been on both Wildrose and Telescope Peak in scorching weather, but never had I seen the amount of snow on these peaks like I had after the storm. It was such a sight that I had to stop and stare at the snow covered fields, with visions of ice axes, crampons, and glissade descents in my head before realizing that I had been planning on hiking a certain canyon that day, and daylight was fleeing. Sometimes, there’s just not enough time for all the adventures, mental, or otherwise, one wants to do. With that, I snapped my mental pictures, and continued on. 

The general wastelands are not lightly traveled…stories and tips from the Southern Californian deserts from 2010.

One of many unusual things that lurks in the desert...

It’s quiet. That’s usually the first thing you notice when you are in the desert. It’s not the quiet of a city, where things stop for a split second, leaving only the hum of lights burning the fluorescent orange glow into the low hanging clouds of the night sky, and then the noises restart so quickly that one forgets that there even was a moment without sound. It’s not the quiet of the mountains, where winds whisper across the rocks and make them groan from the cold long nights. It’s not the quiet of the forest, where the trees talk to the ground, the ground talks to the stars, and the animals walk between all of those noises. It’s not the quiet of the jungle, where the day shudders with the sound of constant growth and the chatter of bugs. It’s not even the quiet of the ocean, which murmurs comfortable nothings, nor the quiet of ice that blinds your ears with the sound of death. The desert is none of those things. It is the quiet of the unknown.

It is not just the quiet of the unknown that permeates the desert. It is the quiet of the unexpected. It’s the silence of the calm before the storm. It’s the silence of rapidly building heat. It’s the silence of icy cold. It’s the silence of a coming storm, of wind that scourges sand over your bones, or rain that floods and rushes over all that it sees. It’s the silence of shifting terrain, from flat plateaus, to boulder strewn hills, to impossible mountains and shifting dunes, and everything in between. It’s the lack of water where springs are marked on maps, and impossible wells where there should be none. It’s the quiet of a changing landscape, where things fade out of wavy lines into substance, and then disappear again, and of things that stay fixed in one spot, but should not be corporeal. Above all, it’s the silence that is the desert, a silence that seems to be watching you at all times.

One cannot travel in the desert and not be changed by it. Whether it is a simple case of nerves, or actual oddities, the desert changes you, just as surely as your tracks change its features. Just as easily, if you are not prepared, a desert can make you fade from existence with its sliding sands and vastness as if you never existed. Desert travel involves a lot of risks because of the unknown and unexpected variables. But, in my opinion, the risks are well worth it, as the desert possesses a cold and majestic beauty, and many undiscovered wonders. Practically, deserts cover over one fifth of the earth’s surface, and in some instances are growing. In fact, some leading scientists believe that should global warming continue to go forward, eventually, the earth’s surface will be one large desert, an idea that’s somewhat popularized in the upcoming movie Obselida (http://www.youtube.com/watch?v=Qhly0dt8Fj0). Despite how the world may or may not end, there are many amazing things to see in deserts; things of wonder; things of beauty; and unexpected and unknown things. Since I’m in Southern California, I’m fortunate to be near a number of deserts – if not one large un-named desert, so the next couple weeks will be stories from things I’ve seen this year as I once again explored some new and favorite locations this winter and spring. So, let me be your guide, and follow me out into the invisible unknown wastelands that I know.