Hiking

Salt Creek Interpretive Trail

Salt Creek Interpretive Trail

If you’re like me, and you spent any amount of time in California in the 1990’s, chances are you saw two bumper stickers: “Keep Tahoe Blue”; or “Save the Pupfish”. Sadly, I don’t see as many Pupfish bumper stickers today as I used to, but perhaps that’s because most people don’t know where the pupfish are or what they are. There’s no reason to despair though – a visit to the Salt Creek Interpretive Trail will clear up the salient facts about Pupfish, but may provide you with other mysteries of the science fiction variety.

Golden Canyon to Zabriskie Point

Golden Canyon to Zabriskie Point

There’s a lot of hikes in the National Park system that get a lot of press as the “best hikes”. And, when I say “press”, I am not just talking about articles written by journalists and bloggers. I am talking about word-of-mouth hikes that are discussed between hikers and non-hikers; discussions that percolate world-wide about places that should be seen or, in some cases, depending on who is talking, have to be seen. A lot of these hikes deserve the reputation and the discussion that they get; and a lot of these hikes don’t deserve the reputation that they get. I’m not going to weigh in about which hike deserves what as it’s a matter of personal opinion in my book. What I will say, is that the best secret hike in the National Park system is the hike(s) I’m talking about here and last week: Golden Canyon.

Golden Canyon to Red Cathedral

Golden Canyon to Red Cathedral

 It should surprise no one that I am a child of the latter half of the twentieth century. As one, I listened to a lot of one-hit wonders. Now that I’ve made myself sound like my father: “You know what was great in 1962? Wilt Chamberlain”, I’ll get to the point. The point is this – in 1997, there was this song. It started with a little high hat, and then it had a repetitive five chord introduction, and since that could be any song, I’ll tell you what it was: it was Smashmouth’s Walkin’ on the Sun. I’m not sure what’s more embarrassing; that I’ve had this long lead in about how I used to listen to Smashmouth, or that whenever I think of the song, Walkin’on the Sun, I can’t even get the lyrics right, and I always think the lyrics are “You might as well be walking on the moon”.But let’s be honest here – sun, moon – who’s keeping score? Whenever I go to Golden Canyon, this is the song I think of because I associate it with being on the moon (not sun), and that lunar type of terrain is exactly what you will see from the moment you enter Golden Canyon.

Ubehebe Crater

Ubehebe Crater

In my opinion, there are two types of people in the world: those that will walk down into a potentially active volcanic crater, and those that will not climb down into a potentially active volcanic crater, and instead, prefer to watch the first group from the volcanic crater’s rim. I suppose I’d be even willing to say that there’s even a third class of people, those that want to be nowhere near a potentially active volcanic crater, but they’re probably not reading this article, except as a cautionary tale of what to stay away from, so we won’t worry about them today. If you’re a member of one of the first two classes of people, and you’re in Death Valley, you’re in luck: the Ubehebe Crater is available for those who like to stand on the rim and watch, and it is available for those who like to hike. And, if you are of that third class of people that avoids volcanoes, now you know not to go to the northern portion of Death Valley National Park.

The Ubehebe Crater is one of many volcanoes in Death Valley National Park, and it is a “Maar Volcano” in that it was created by a giant steam and gas explosion that occurred when hot magma from the Earth’s core reached a pocket of ground water. When this occurred, the intense heat immediately flashed the water into steam, which then expanded until the pressure was released by a fairly large bang.  If you’re into rocks, as I am, this is a sort of geologic two-for-one opportunity in that you get to go into a volcanic crater of a maar volcano – not something that happens every day! As for the amount of risk, well, while the volcano has not erupted for at least three hundred years, there is no magma underneath the area presently, so the risk is probably minimal, at best. 

Directions:Ubehebe Crater is located five miles North of the Grapevine Visitor Center to Death Valley National Park, and the way to the crater is well signed. Even if there were no helpful NPS signs, you would know that you were approaching the crater when you started to pass through large expanses of black cinder fields that look like the surface of the moon. At the middle of the NPS loop road there is a parking area, and interpretive panels regarding the crater. At the interpretive panels, you will likely meet a number of people who have a number of theories about the crater – one time I was told that it was the result of a meteorite strike; another time, I was told that the NPS Panels were incorrect due to a creationist perspective, but since you have read this article, you will be prepared to impress people with your knowledge that the crater is a Maar volcano. Once you are done discussing the particulars of the crater with friends and or total strangers, you will have to decide whether you are a crater walker, or a rim-walker-watcher-of-crater-walkers.

If you’re the latter class of people, I don’t have much to say other than the standard, “enjoy the view”. If you’re a crater walker, here’s what I have to say: the way to the bottom of the crater is very easy. In fact, it is so easy; you will feel like you are sliding. This is, in fact, because you are likely sliding. You will be traveling over loose volcanic rock and scree which naturally wants to obey the force of gravity, and wants to help you obey the force of gravity by coming to rest at the lowest point, the crater floor. Even though the crater is 600-770 feet deep, you will traverse this distance quickly, and I suspect you will find yourself at the bottom within ten to fifteen minutes. Once you are at the bottom, there’s plenty of things to explore – more volcanic rocks, and the cracked dry surface of many evaporated seasonal lakes. If you’re feeling daring, you can head into the alluvial tunnels on the Eastern side as well, although from what I could find, none extend back very far, and all would appear not to be very stable.

Once you are done at the crater bottom, you will look up and marvel at how tiny the non-crater explorers still sitting on the rim looking at you appear. Similarly, they will be marveling at how tiny you look at the bottom. At that point, you will realize that you have a very steep climb back to the rim. This is the point where distance factors in: whether you believe it or not, you will have likely only gone .25 (1/4) to .50 (1/2) miles to the bottom of the crater. What that means is that you have .25-.50 miles to ascend over 500 feet of vertical terrain. To add insult to injury, while the scree helped you going down, it will now hinder you going up. At times on the ascent it will feel like you are walking through quicksand. It is precisely for this reason that I will call the hike moderate: no matter how good of shape you are in, you will work to get out of the crater. It is also worth noting that when you reach the top, you will feel an enormous sense of accomplishment; however, the non-crater walkers will not want to share it with you, as they likely thought you were crazy to attempt the hike in the first place. Although it may not seem like it, this hike is only a half-mile to mile roundtrip!

Tips: Take plenty of water. Even on a cold day, you will work up a sweat coming out of the crater. On a hot day, you may emerge completely soaking wet. Know your limits; pace yourself, and do not attempt the climb in triple digit heat at a world setting pace.

See you in the crater!

Mesquite Flat Sand Dunes

Mesquite Flat Sand Dunes

If you play your cards right, you can follow the previous posts from a snowy 11,000 foot peak (Telescope Peak), past some unique structures (the Charcoal Kilns and Eureka Mine), through an ancient canyon with cracked granite blocks (Mosaic Canyon) down to rolling sand dunes (Mesquite Flat) all within a day. That alone should make Death Valley a “must-do” in anyone’s book – I personally can’t think of another place world-wide where you can traverse such a variety of terrain in a day or less. Granted, if you’re going to do all of those things in a day, you’re going to need to get an early start, and move quick, but it is indeed possible.

Mosaic Canyon

Mosaic Canyon

Do you like rocks? I like rocks. I’m constantly staring at rocks; picking up rocks, and trying to analyze rocks. Part of my interest in rocks is based on the fact that I’m wondering, “Is this safe to climb? Will this hold my weight? Can I traverse it?” and part of my interest lies within a much simpler explanation: the rule of cool (“ROC”). Rocks, in my opinion, are cool. Think about it for a minute: rocks are the very bones of the planet; forged in the molten interior before being slowly exposed on the surface. Even if you disagree with my analogy above, and say that rocks are more like the soul of the planet, dark and inscrutable, or some other metaphor, rocks are cool because they are time capsules. Any geologic feature, large or small that one gazes upon probably stood for millions of years, and during that time, was probably altered by heat, wind, water, ice, or platetechtonics. If nothing else, the long view of earth’s history gives you pause – that rock there that you’re sitting on? Probably stepped upon by dinosaurs; and it’ll probably be present long after you’re gone. Then again, if you don’t want to think about such big picture things, it’s easiest to say what I said above: rocks are cool.

Wildrose Peak

Wildrose Peak

Some people climb mountains for the challenge; some people climb mountains because they have a burning desire to be atop high places; some people climb mountains for the physical activity; and some people climb mountains just because they’re there. There’s a million reasons why people climb mountains, and if you run into people on the trail, it’s always interesting to hear why people are there, what they are doing, and if they are lost, help them out by giving them directions and encouragement. One of the most honest reasons I’ve heard for climbing a mountain was on Wildrose Peak by a transplanted Frenchman named Bernard who was living in Los Angeles. Wildrose Peak, incidentally, is the small sister of Rogers, Bennett, and Telescope in the Panamint Range of Death Valley, clocking in at 9,064 feet. On that trip, I had been on a climbing tear – I had powered up Whitney in winter conditions on Saturday, and bagged Telescope, Bennett, and Rogers on Sunday. It was now a Monday, and rather than take it easy – I decided to climb Wildrose Peak.