It turned out that Stovepipe Wells Village had given us a handicapped room. Apparently having no real handicapped patrons to give the room to we were the next best thing. The place was large with two queen sized beds, TV, air conditioner/heater, refrigerator and a huge bathroom with a shower/tub combo, sink, and all with enough room to maneuver a wheelchair between the fixtures. Nice! We had expected a minimal bathroom, no TV or AC as all the info we had read on the place had indicated. Looks like they have been updating things recently. At 6:45 we went to the restaurant attached to the bar for dinner.

     First we stopped at the gift shop that are de reguer at all tourist locations and browsed, eventually buying a couple of small souvenirs for the family. Then on to the restaurant. Rats! No we didn't eat rats, but the pan seared pepper tuna that Todd had recommended was all gone. After looking at the menu and seeing nothing remarkable except the prices we decided to just hit the bar again and have some more bar food. Just appetizers. All day not a real meal to be had since the great breakfast at Bonnie Springs, just snacks and appetizers. I'll have to do better for Maryou's birthday next year. So we chatted with Todd and eventually a few of the wait staff, who as the mealtime wound down spent more and more time hanging by the bar. Then we took a little ride.

     Everyone had remarked how beautiful the stars were in the desert, away from all the city lights so we drove down the road away from the lights of Stovepipe Wells and got out to check it out. It was beautiful. Very nice. Many more stars than we can see around home, being right next to Philadelphia and all. But, and this is a small but, not as nice as the sky we witnessed in the 80's when we were visiting friends in rural West Virginia. Did I say rural? The town, Renick, is quite remote even for the region of West Virginia where it is located and we were 2-1/2 ridge lines away from the town, which you could miss completely if you happen to sneeze while riding through it. Anyhow, the sky we witnessed there had more stars, planets, galaxies and a view of the milky way that looked like an artist had done a swipe of a paint soaked brush a la Jackson Pollock across the entire sky. Spectacular! I guess I'll have to settle on the memory of that sky as I don't anticipate ever seeing such a majestic view of the night time display of our universe anywhere, anytime soon. Slightly disappointed, but still pretty happy we returned to our room and slept.

     The next day was St. Patty's Day. We rose at 8:15 able to sleep later and later as we become accustomed to the time change. An hour and a half later we leave the Wells and a short hop after that we pull over to look at the sand dunes which are rare in this desert. We sat on the car and ate cherry yogurt reading the sign that explains the reason for the dunes at this location, something about topography and prevailing winds, when a stranger approaches and says something like, "Musby sumpat risdy zit." We look at each other, shrug, look back at him and reply, "What?" Elucidating more eloquently he comes back with. "Must be St. Patrick's day, is it?" It was then that I remembered that I had on my green Irish tee shirt to honor the holiday, smiled and said, "Sure is, have a good one." He smiled and was gone. It really irks me that, being Irish American, I have such a hard time understanding someone with a thick Irish accent. I wish I could correct this flaw, but so far, no luck. Like the luck of the Irish, I guess. So...., let me tell you about the dunes. They were large. Stretching over many acres, with people walking all over them. They could have filmed Lawrence of Arabia here if not for the mountains in the background, Oh, that's right! They can take them out of the shot with special effects now, can't they? As it was a quarter mile hike just to get to the start of them we decided to forgo the pleasure of sand in our shoes, and just admired them from afar.

     So then it was back to the lowlands of the valley passing the old Borax mine on our way to Zabriskie Point where we pass a jogger. No sign of how they got there, no car or bike, just jogging in the middle of no man's land, alone, without a care in the world. Sheeesh! We reach Zabriskie Point and are surprised by the crowds. This is a popular spot to stop and look around. The stark but weirdly rippled hills make it particularly eerie. We walk up the path to the highpoint, take a few pics and get back in the vehicle and go to Dante's View to see what's what there. It's a long winding climb up the road to the point where Dante took a gander, but a fun ride in the highly maneuverable little car. When we reach this place it is surprisingly bereft of fellow gawkers. It seems that Zabriskie gets the greater share of folks because it is right off the main road near an entrance to Death Valley while Dante's View is a more remote location but with an equally stunning view of the valley as well as the hills beyond. From it you can see both the lowest spot in the Western Hemisphere (Badwater at -280 ft.) and the highest in the continental United States (Mount Whitney at 14,494 ft.). Cool! Actually it was chilly with a stiff breeze making me put on my jacket. The ride down the hill was even more fun than the ride up.

     Next stop Devil's Hole, don't ask which one. After finding the Ash Mountain Natural Wildlife Reserve and driving down another washboard road and having to abandon the Hooverphonic CD due to the amount of bouncing I found a local radio station and was greatly amused when they played The Cars big hit Shake It Up. We shakin'. We shakin'. Finally we found the hole in question. It was totally fenced in either protecting the world from the Devil who was rumored to own this particular hole or maybe it was the Devil's fence protecting hisself from noisy tourists, I'm not sure which. It was more of a crack than a hole but it supports a species of fish found nowhere else in the world. Satan's minion fish I guess. We didn't see any as they are only a couple of inches long and then there was the fence, you see. Our old buddy Todd had told us a tale of a team of divers who with the permission of the whichever government agency watches over the hole for the Devil had launched a diving expedition to explore the depths of said orifice to map it or understand it or whatever. Taking great care they had secured lines to ol' Terra Firma so that they would not get disoriented and lost and not be able to get back. They had made considerable progress when SNAP went the line and the divers never were recovered. Chalk one up to the Devil. Thus the fence.

      So now officially out of Death Valley and having seen all things associated with death, dying and ol' Lucifer. We head back to Vegas to see what the natives and their guests have cooked up as a celebration of that great Saint, the ol' reptile stompin' Paddy. Shake it up, oo, oo, shake it up.
 

Zabriskie Point

Dante and his bird's eye view

Devil's Hole proctology
 
 

 Last      Main      Next