Morning in the Panamint Valley was cold and very clear. After an unbelievably starry night, the dawn was gradual and brilliant. The best reason for going to sleep soon after dark is to be able to enjoy a very gradual dawn. The first purple gives way to blue, which grows lighter until the sky is entirely consumed by the color. The source of blue becomes the source of increasingly golden tones until the sun makes its first appearance.
We had our customary coffee before packing our tent and gear and making our way into Death Valley proper. The drive starts with a considerable descent down a long canyon from Panamint Valley. As Death Valley stretches out in full view, the road becomes flat and passes the first campground and cabins come into view.
Stovepipe Wells isn’t much, but it is far more than anything around it. To call it an oasis would be a stretch. The winds were blowing as well, a bleak landscape for tents and campers alike. We had to take a moment, of course, to check out the used car lot that we came across.
Dunes
Beyond the excellent view of the valley, the first attraction on the route is Mesquite Flat Sand Dunes. The high mountains on each side of the Valley combine with powerful winds to bring tiny grains of rock from the mountain tops to this particular spot. We were fortunate that it was early in the morning and the tourists were still sleeping. This gave us a chance enjoy the moment without buses and flocks of photo seekers.
Furnace Creek
A great brunch is one of the most valuable ways to enjoy a day without taking too much time to eat. We stopped at Furnace Creek Visitors Center and watched a movie about Death Valley before moving on to breakfast at the nearby restaurant. Jeanne complained of suffering the opposite of altitude sickness…”low-titude sickness”. The symptoms included laughing, energy, healthy appetite and absolutely no headache. She hasn’t recovered since we we left Death Valley, leading us to wonder if this isn’t a chronic condition for her. Only time will tell.
Badwater Basin
No visit to Death Valley is complete without a stop at the lowest point in the Western Hemisphere. There are lower places, like the Dead Sea, but the proximity to Mt Whitney, the highest point in the Lower 48 States, makes Death Valley all the more interesting.
Hole-in-the-Wall
Based on great advice, we decided to camp at Hole-in-the-Wall, a remote area accessible by four wheel drive. Soon after starting down the dirt road we had a great warning…a stream of oil that a previous vehicle leaked as it drove. We were very careful to keep the center of the care away from the occasional rocks to avoid the same fate. We saw few other cars as we made our way back into the interior of the park. It was wonderfully quiet, in fact.
We found a great spot far from anyone and set up our camp. We wanted to be sheltered from the infamous Death Valley winds, have an early view of sunrise (so no mountain to the southeast, and peace and quiet. We found all of those things and had an extraordinary time in our cozy campsite.
Part 1 of Two Days in Death Valley in February 2012
Sometimes places are so close and accessible they become a less urgent destination. Death Valley has been that way for me. Jeanne has been in the US for eight years and has been there five times, where I’ve lived here all of my life, and in California twelve years and never made my way there. It isn’t my first experience with that phenomenon. I grew up in Western New York, an hour and a half from Niagara Falls but never made it there until my late teens.
An Un-sort vacation
We packed quickly on a Saturday morning using our trusted checklist. We knew this would be no-frills camping (‘un-sort’, the opposite of ‘resort’, in Jeanne’s words) on a holiday weekend with no reservations. Death Valley allows camping anywhere two miles from the main roads, but that also means no water, showers, or easy access for last-minute supplies. “Dry camping” as it is called in the West, and our trips to Johnson Valley, CA camping prepared us well for this…bring lots of water.
Of course we brought the dogs along as well. Mitch and Gwenn love every part of camping from the ride, to the new sights and smells, to sleeping in a tent, usually on top of our sleeping bags. Dogs can’t hike on trails in National Parks but we always find ways to have an adventure off the beaten track.
Mojave Desert
Not too far out of Los Angeles the horizon opens, the land dries out and the Mojave Desert takes over. Getting to Death Valley is much of the same route as heading to Mt Whitney or Mammoth, and we know the best gas stations, restaurants and each turn by heart. This time, however, we wouldn’t be passing the turnoff for Death Valley and commenting yet again that we should go there ‘sometime’.
Death Valley
Once on SR190, the main highway through the Valley, we filled up our gas tank and were given the advice to camp near Panamint Dunes on Lake Hill Road. This took us down a dirt road for a couple of miles until we found and excellent, sheltered spot at the foot of a small mountain and near sand dunes and a dry lake bed. We immediately began our routine of setting up camp with both of us knowing exactly our part. Dinner was beef stew and bread, and we were in The Babymaker by 6pm., just as it became truly dark outside.
We had a great plan for our trip to Kaua’i at the end of August 2009, knowing that our true target, the Kalalau Trail, was closed for a goat hunt. We planned to drive to Kekaha, on the western (leeward and dry) side of the island to pick up a kayak from friends and paddle north east from Polihale Beach to the Na Pali Coast. The plan was simple enough. Though the cliffs are steep and run right to the Pacific, there are coves and beaches along the way that make excellent remote camping sites, like Miloli’i Beach. We picked up the tandem sea kayak, purchased some last-minute supplies and were at Polihale well before sunset.
It was exciting to be so close to this rugged and remote coast of an island paradise like Kaua’i. Polihale Beach gets narrower as you go north until it simply runs out of flat and becomes an impassible cliff. The only way to continue toward the Na Pali Coast was to leave shore, which made it even more important that we had a seaworthy means of transportation. Our kayak would have to carry everything we would need for several days. We double and triple checked all of our gear to make sure everything fit, was watertight where it needed to be, was attached to the kayak and wouldn’t be lost by rolling over. We were truly ready. It was a very hot evening and no fire was necessary, though we made one just for the ambiance. We slept on top of our sleeping bags, which were wholly unnecessary on this side of the island.
Change of plans
An unscheduled goat hunt and then Mother Nature had a way of changing our best-laid plans. We awoke the next morning to the first northern swell that typically ends the summer of easy kayaking on mostly flat ocean. Undeterred, we packed up our camp and dragged our heavily-laden kayak to the water’s edge. As we drew closer to the shoreline, it became more apparent just how big the swell really was. The waves were breaking late and were powerful, causing a steep drop off to form where the ocean met land. Once over that drop, there was no protection from the incoming waves and no gradual way to get through the first set of breakers.
We tried our best to get the timing right and to move quickly, but Jeanne was battered at the front of the kayak by every approaching wave, and it was impossible to steer the kayak from the back. We were on our third or fourth exhausting attempt to launch when a local came up to us and at first offered to help but then declared it a ‘bad idea.’ Looking back, I’m glad he showed up. We were very determined and may have ended up in a dangerous situation if we made it through that first set of waves.
Plan C
So what do you do on Kaua’i when you have a car, a kayak and all of your camping supplies for the next three days? You go find water somewhere else. That was exactly the conclusion we came to once we got over the disappointment of missing the Na Pali Coast yet again. The best, protected water we could find on the map was the Wailua River, near the village of Kapa’a on the southeast side of the island. This is normally a place where tourists rent kayaks take short trips upriver. That simply isn’t our style, so we launched into the river and paddled up to the supposedly ‘Secret Waterfall’ that wasn’t at all secret. It was great to paddle on the very scenic river, but it wasn’t enough adventure for fun junkies like us.
The rope swing
Locals told us there was a spot up a branch of the river with a rope swing and we needed to check this out. There was also a place called “Fern Grotto” that most people visit by a large riverboat that chugs up the river several times per day. Once past the disappointment of the very unsecret Secret Waterfall (there were reasonably large crowds for a weekday in August) we relaunched to check out these other spots.
While the Fern Grotto was interesting and pretty, nothing made our day like being able to swing out over the water on a long rope placed by locals. We took turns on the rope, each time going a little higher and a little further out. We had fun doing this until the mosquitoes drove us away (we weren’t prepared for this problem). Paddling back down the Wailua River was the usual challenge of overtaking every other kayak we saw, no matter how far off in the distance. We’re a little too competitive in that way. After a dinner in Kapa’a, we headed to a beach we’d heard about but had never visited, Anini.
Anini Beach
A perfectly groomed and gorgeous beach, but not exactly remote or private, Anini Beach is a local park that locals use for family events. It was quiet on a weeknight and we found an excellent campsite just inside the treeline and quite close to the water. This part of the island is protected by a reef about 100 m (300 yards) offshore so there were no waves near enough to be a risk for sleeping right at the ocean’s edge.
Walking up in paradise, a few meters from the water is an experience everyone should have. The daybreak was cool and still in a way that made it very easy to sit at the water’s edge and soak in the atmosphere. We sat for only a few minutes before we became aware of movement in the sand in front of us. Sand crabs were busy digging holes, fighting over holes, and generally going about their early morning business. We probably passed thirty minutes just watching it all happen.
Not having a plan
From Anini, with no idea of what to do next, we stopped in a coffee shop to have a bite to eat and enjoy the morning. A group of ten or so people sitting nearby asked us to take their picture, which led to a conversation about their plan to hike to a nearby, truly secret waterfall. There was no way we could resist this opportunity. We parked blocks away and accompanied the eclectic group as we made our way through cow pastures and fields, crossing what was obviously private property, until we came to one of the most beautiful places we’ve ever visited. This ‘secret waterful’ is known to locals and not an easy place to get to unless you know the path and maybe the property owners that surround this slice of paradise. We were able to swim out and climb directly under the 25 m (40 ft) cascade. On a warm day, the water was the perfect temperature for a natural shower.
Kilauea
There were few ways to top what we’d done so far just that morning, so we decided to spend the day sightseeing the north shore. The first stop was Kilauea Lighthouse, a tall classic lighthouse that sits far out on a skinny point of land. It was a beautiful spot to watch the waves come in and crash against the nearly vertical walls of the cove below. It was easy to think it was the coast of Maine or California except for the warm trade winds and fantastic scenery in every direction.
Secret Beach
‘Secret’ seemed to be the theme of this adventure, and our friends from the waterfall gave us a parting gift of directions to Secret Beach, or “Secrets” as the locals call it. This is a beach that you’ll never find without good directions, as the trail involves parking in a very unlikely-looking place next to enormous houses under construction and then following a small footpath with no view of the stunning beach that lies at the other end. From the moment the trail opens onto the sand, it is a clearly exceptional place from the color of the sand, to the water, to the view of Kilauea Lighthouse off in the far distance. The waves are driven by an offshore wind that gives a savage look to the place and causes strange patterns in the sand. We spent a few hours in the magical place before heading off to our hotel for our last night on the island.
Spouting Horn
With our time on Kaua’i coming to a close, we made our way back to the west side of the island and to a popular blow hole in the lava rock known as Spouting Horn. Not only does it shoot water in the air as waves roll into its underground crevasses, but the sound it makes is other-worldly as it moans and howls. Fences keep the tourists far away, and this is understandable as the temptation to get closer is powerful.
We already thought Kaua’i was amazing even before we found these treasures, but this trip cemented its reputation with us. We plan to go back in November 2011 to finally hike the Kalalau Trail along the Na Pali Coast over Thanksgiving Weekend. We feel sure that no matter how many times we go back, we’ll continue to find more reasons to love this island.
Getting ready for our trek in Nepal meant having some great practice hikes in the local Los Angeles area. We chose Ice House Canyon, just south of Mount Baldy, only an hour from Pasadena. Ice House Canyon is a very popular hike in this area, but is typically a late Spring or Fall hike, when the temperatures are lower and there isn’t snow to contend with. The fact that it was March and this had been a heavy snow year was offset by the need to get our legs trekking shape.
Getting permits
Permits are required for a camp stove (no fires) and anything beyond day hiking into the Cucamonga Wilderness, so getting to the Mt Baldy Village Visitors Center while they were open was key. They closed at 3:30pm that day, so we needed to hurry to get there in time. We reached the Visitors Center on Mt Baldy Road moments before they closed shop, and it was only ten more minutes until we were at the trail head, which is just past the turn off for the Mt Baldy Ski Area. We brought Mitch and Gwen, since dogs are allowed in Cucamonga Wilderness on leash, and we weren’t going to leave them home after being gone so long just recently. Besides, they love to hike and we enjoy having them along, especially since they have packs that they use to carry their own food and water.
Our hike
We planned to spend two nights on the trail, so it made sense to make our first stopover at Cedar Glen, which is reached by taking the Ice House Canyon Trail to the Chapman Trail, and then following that to Cedar Glen. The Glen is very aptly named, as it is a very peaceful, shady and flat spot on the side of a mostly treeless mountainside. After the dry trail approaching the site, the Glen is a beautiful spot to rest or to spend the night. There are several great spots to camp, but bring water if you come later in the season, as the stream that passes just below the Glen is seasonal. We enjoyed a dinner and a great sunset before getting into the tent with the dogs for the night.
Day 2
The next morning meant packing up and continuing higher to Ice House Saddle, the junction point for several trails that lead to other peaks (“Three T’s”, which are Timber, Telegraph and Thunder, and also Cucamonga and Ontario) and also down toward the High Desert east of Los Angeles. From the Saddle, a clear day provides a view both toward the desert and also the Pacific Ocean, making this a great place to take a break and enjoy the scenery. There is also a reliable stream for water that can be treated to refill Camelbaks and bottles. We chose to head southwest toward Ontario Peak and to overnight at Kelly’s Camp, another shaded bench where we could rest and decide whether to climb the peak or just relax.
Kelly’s Camp
This camping spot is less flat than Cedar Glen but has running water during the summer months from a pipe that was installed years ago. In April, however, the only source of water was from the snowpack that covered about half of the area. Melting snow take a significant amount of fuel and time, so anyone planning to stay at the camp in the colder months should bring as much water as possible from the Ice House Saddle. Few people passed by, as Ontario Peak is less popular than the others and it was still early season. This turned out to be the perfect remedy for post-Nepal blues. Rather than climb the peak, we chose to relax and recover.
Day 3
The last morning was spent as a very enjoyable hike down to the trail head. Though we didn’t hike a great distance, the variety of terrain along our hike was surprising and the weather, while cool, was perfect for strenuous activity.
Ice House Canyon is a very well maintained trail and very popular with day hikers, so don’t expect much solitude when heading up or down. It follows the path of a beautiful, rocky stream and there are plenty of cool and shady places to stop and enjoy nature. Its proximity to Pasadena and the many choices in final destination make this one of our favorite hikes in the San Gabriel Mountains.
For more pictures, go to our Maximum Adventure website. To read our other dog adventures, click here.
There are two pleasures in life that can’t be beaten…1) finding money in your pocket, and, 2) realizing you have a three-day weekend at the last minute. Just before the July 4th weekend, we experienced the second and made a quick decision to spend the weekend in Cottonwood Lakes and climbing the New Army Pass. Both are near Lone Pine (just south of Mt Whitney, which we attempted in June 2011) in the John Muir Wilderness of the Eastern Sierras of California. As an added bonus, we could take our two dogs, Gwenn and Mitch, who love the outdoors and are impossible to tire out, or so we thought.
Getting ready
Using our handy checklist, we made our run for last-minute supplies at REI and had the fortune to run into Tony Neary, one of the most experienced employees at the store and a veteran of Cottonwood Lakes. He gave us great advice, as always, and we were packed and ready to go by 9pm that evening. We weren’t sure of the snow conditions but knew the runoff from the heavy snows this winter would mean swollen streams and high water levels in general. We needed to be well-prepared.
Getting started
We drove to Lone Pine where we picked up our permits from the Interagency Visitors Center just south of town. Cottonwood Lakes are outside of the Whitney Zone and therefore are free, which is always good. There are only 24 permits held for walk-ins, but we had good advice to be there at 11:00am, when passes are distributed on a first-come, first-served basis. We made our obligatory stop at Subway to pick up a sandwich, stopped at one of the best hiking/climbing specialty shops we know, Elevation, for some last-minute gear (we decided to buy super-light crampons) and were at the Cottonwood Lakes trail head by 2:00 pm. We were sorted and on the trail by 2:40pm, and enjoying a mostly flat 4-mile hike up to the basin that contains the six lakes and is the jumping off point for New Army Pass, Old Army Pass and Mt Langley (4,277 m., 14,032 ft.). We couldn’t climb beyond the pass, however, as that would involve entering the Sequoia/Kings Canyon National Park where dogs are not permitted on trails.
John Muir Lake
Once in the basin, we chose John Muir Lake for solitude, as several people along the way told us that there were plenty of people at the other lakes. Finding this lake, however, was a bit of a challenge as the trail branched but then was lost among pine trees and boulders. Looking above at the mountains, we sorted out where the lake had to be and sure enough, we found it within thirty minutes. It was a gorgeous place to camp with widely-spaced pines among boulders the size of small homes. There were snow patches covering about half the ground and it was cool and comfortable compared to Lone Pine, which was 38 degrees (100 degrees Fahrenheit) earlier that day.
Climbing New Army Pass
We were up early the next morning and on the trail by 6:40am. Getting there meant making our way past Lakes 1 and 2, then past Long Lake and up into the very snowy final basin below the pass itself. We passed occupied campsites just before leaving Long Lake and noted that this would be a great base camp for the Pass and for a climb of Mt. Langley. Once above Long Lake, the snow became much deeper and softer, even at that early hour. Also, we could hear water rushing below our feet as we crossed snowfields, leaving us anxious about dropping through the surface crust. We crossed these areas quickly and were able to reach the steep slopes of the Pass without problems. The dogs showed no signs of altitude or exhaustion even as we reached the highest point of 3749 m. (12,400 ft.). Coming down was, as always, much faster than going up as we were able to glissade quickly down. Gwenn pulled Chris down the slopes very quickly, while Jeanne took the more cautious Mitch into her lap for the slide.
Once down the steep side of the final bowl, we crossed the basin quickly to the hill above Long Lake, which by now was very soft and with even louder sounds of water rushing below the surface. We should have been exhausted by that point but were feeling great, so we make the decision to continue our hike up to Lakes 3, 4 and 5, which were in a basin to the north, requiring a seven-mile hike to get there and back to John Muir Lake.
The last day
Up early again the last morning, we enjoyed sunrise on Mt Langley, high above us, and the reflection of the mountain on a perfectly still lake. Temperatures had dropped below freezing overnight, making the trail solid and less muddy than the previous two days. We had a very fast descent to the trail head, where the dogs immediately passed out in the back of the car and we sorted our gear, knowing it would be much warmer and tougher to do this once we were home in Pasadena.
Cottonwood Lakes and New Army Pass are a great weekend getaway from Southern California, regardless of the summer heat elsewhere. The approach trails are well-maintained and the campsites are plentiful. We hope you have a chance to experience this idyllic part of the Eastern Sierras.
See all of our photos at our website, Maximum Adventure. For the map of our hike, see the image below:
Morning in the Panamint Valley was cold and very clear. After an unbelievably starry night, the dawn was gradual and brilliant. The best reason for going to sleep soon after dark is to be able to enjoy a very gradual dawn. The first purple gives way to blue, which grows lighter until the sky is entirely consumed by the color. The source of blue becomes the source of increasingly golden tones until the sun makes its first appearance.
We had our customary coffee before packing our tent and gear and making our way into Death Valley proper. The drive starts with a considerable descent down a long canyon from Panamint Valley. As Death Valley stretches out in full view, the road becomes flat and passes the first campground and cabins come into view.
Stovepipe Wells isn’t much, but it is far more than anything around it. To call it an oasis would be a stretch. The winds were blowing as well, a bleak landscape for tents and campers alike. We had to take a moment, of course, to check out the used car lot that we came across.
Beyond the excellent view of the valley, the first attraction on the route is Mesquite Flat Sand Dunes. The high mountains on each side of the Valley combine with powerful winds to bring tiny grains of rock from the mountain tops to this particular spot. We were fortunate that it was early in the morning and the tourists were still sleeping. This gave us a chance enjoy the moment without buses and flocks of photo seekers.
A great brunch is one of the most valuable ways to enjoy a day without taking too much time to eat. We stopped at Furnace Creek Visitors Center and watched a movie about Death Valley before moving on to breakfast at the nearby restaurant. Jeanne complained of suffering the opposite of altitude sickness…”low-titude sickness”. The symptoms included laughing, energy, healthy appetite and absolutely no headache. She hasn’t recovered since we we left Death Valley, leading us to wonder if this isn’t a chronic condition for her. Only time will tell.
No visit to Death Valley is complete without a stop at the lowest point in the Western Hemisphere. There are lower places, like the Dead Sea, but the proximity to Mt Whitney, the highest point in the Lower 48 States, makes Death Valley all the more interesting.
Based on great advice, we decided to camp at Hole-in-the-Wall, a remote area accessible by four wheel drive. Soon after starting down the dirt road we had a great warning…a stream of oil that a previous vehicle leaked as it drove. We were very careful to keep the center of the care away from the occasional rocks to avoid the same fate. We saw few other cars as we made our way back into the interior of the park. It was wonderfully quiet, in fact.
We found a great spot far from anyone and set up our camp. We wanted to be sheltered from the infamous Death Valley winds, have an early view of sunrise (so no mountain to the southeast, and peace and quiet. We found all of those things and had an extraordinary time in our cozy campsite.
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