Death Valley
Death Valley, California. Our second day/night on the road, Death Valley was honestly a last minute detour that ended up being a highlight of the trip. Only a couple of deranged miscreants from Texas would stop here on the last day of July. So, naturally, we stopped in aptly named Furnace Creek for the night. Most people flock to this location in the winter, but I recommend experiencing it in the dead of summer, at least once. You probably won’t get much done, but just experiencing that sort of heat is something you will never forget. I know what you’re thinking. “Justin, I’d rather have a catheter ripped out of me.” And fair enough, but still. It’s something to behold, and you’ll never truly appreciate the absolute hostility and harshness of this place until you do. We checked into our room at a mostly vacant resort down on the valley floor, some 200-some-odd feet below sea level, and decompressed for an hour or so. Sometime around 10 PM, we put our shoes back on and headed out to explore a few locations. Folks, after 10 PM the temperature was 118°F. The heat here can only be compared to stepping into a blast furnace, whatever that feels like. It is so incredibly in your face — an invisible, inescapable force that is unlike anything else you’ve ever experienced. It’s hotter here when the wind blows. Go stand in front of your oven door, or point a hairdryer at your face, on high, for an hour. It’s a bizarre heat. Seemingly unnatural.
Death Valley
Death Valley, California. Our second day/night on the road, Death Valley was honestly a last minute detour that ended up being a highlight of the trip. Only a couple of deranged miscreants from Texas would stop here on the last day of July. So, naturally, we stopped in aptly named Furnace Creek for the night. Most people flock to this location in the winter, but I recommend experiencing it in the dead of summer, at least once. You probably won’t get much done, but just experiencing that sort of heat is something you will never forget. I know what you’re thinking. “Justin, I’d rather have a catheter ripped out of me.” And fair enough, but still. It’s something to behold, and you’ll never truly appreciate the absolute hostility and harshness of this place until you do. We checked into our room at a mostly vacant resort down on the valley floor, some 200-some-odd feet below sea level, and decompressed for an hour or so. Sometime around 10 PM, we put our shoes back on and headed out to explore a few locations. Folks, after 10 PM the temperature was 118°F. The heat here can only be compared to stepping into a blast furnace, whatever that feels like. It is so incredibly in your face — an invisible, inescapable force that is unlike anything else you’ve ever experienced. It’s hotter here when the wind blows. Go stand in front of your oven door, or point a hairdryer at your face, on high, for an hour. It’s a bizarre heat. Seemingly unnatural.