Blog #4–I HATE DRIVING IN SNOW
Day 4, Death Valley to Lake Havasu City
Last night the wind howled and stole my tarp. I strolled the campground this morning and recovered it two campsites away, snagged on a bush.
I believe!
Took a walk near my campsite and found this rock— another cosmic indicator…
I spoke with a woman from a near campsite who had retired from a long career of nursing, then nurse practitioning. I can make up words if I want, more advancement. I am also a nurse, who is not retired. She told me she has been to around 35 national parks— comes back to Death Valley from the East Bay every spring. She was camping with two other women, but said she also camps alone. See, friends and family -I’m not the only one.
Hope the mountains hold
The parks are indescribable. Each one I visit surprises me with it’s individual beauty and ruggedness. I am in two minds about reporting how wonderful they are. On one hand, I want all people to see them and have a chance to enjoy them because they belong to the American people. On the other hand, I want to keep them as a quiet secret shared with other nature lovers. National parks are not where you’ll hear music coming from campsites. They are peaceful and beautiful. If you don’t want to drive slow across the park, DON”T DRIVE ACROSS THE PARK.
Boardwalk at Salt Creek
I drove through Death Valley after taking the boardwalk out to see the Devils Hole Pupfish at Salt Creek. These little guys are a testament to how life finds a way. Living in a very saline world, and doing fine. Ten thousand years in the making, they have adapted and are only here. I then drove on down the
Pupfish
Working the salt flat–Brian, please identify
Badwater Road and was struck by the beauty of the park. Our national parks were chosen with good reason. I haven’t met one yet that I didn’t love.
Artist’s Palette, Death Valley
Crossed over Mountain Pass heading to Lake Havasu and went through a blizzard. The very thing I came south to avoid, but there you have it. Survived. I was supposed to camp at Lake Havasu State Park, but the rain and chill did not let up the entire drive and my shoulders and hands were aching from the white knuckle drive.
Are you frickin kidding me?
I used some reserve funds and stayed at the Island Inn Hotel. Simple, clean place with a lobby full of people playing cards and dominoes and working jigsaw puzzles. When I asked what was going on, a nice lady told me they were all snowbirds. They came each year for 2-3 months and had been doing so for years. Fifteen or so couples, driving to Lake Havasu from Illinois, Colorado, Minnesota, and South Dakota. They did not know each other until their annual cohabitations, but now stay in touch the rest of the year via Facebook. They have long term relationships with the hotel staff as well. Second families, the lady said. I couldn’t help but think: I like to play cards.