California! Nevada! Utah! Oh!
FR

Translated into English.

Original post
VA
After my trip to Oregon in 2018 (see Travel Journal "Oregon and Only Oregon"), I vaguely intended to return to the West (the western USA, of course—the west of France is where I almost live) someday, later... with no specific date or plan.

November 2018, I stumbled upon a promotion for round-trip flights from Paris to San Francisco. Well, I *stumbled*—they must’ve collected some "data" on me to make sure this deal crossed my path. And it worked! My ESTA was still valid, and two days later, it was decided: May 13, 2019 (departure from Paris) to June 15, 2019 (return to Paris).

The travel style? Just like last year: low-budget trip, rental car, and accommodation only in campgrounds, with no reservations to stay as free as possible.

Exceptions? 3 nights in a youth hostel upon arrival in downtown San Francisco, and 1 night on the way back (right before flying) in Montara, near Pacifica—a spot that seemed well-located for driving back to the airport in the middle of the night.

Now, to sketch out the rough itinerary. Here’s what it looked like after the trip:

Westernmost point: Montara Lighthouse on the coast, 30 km south of San Francisco (California); Easternmost point: Zion National Park (Utah). Northernmost point: Reno (Nevada). Southernmost point: Spring Mountain Ranch State Park in Blue Diamond, near Las Vegas (Nevada).

Another view:



I’ll be spending 33 days in this little area! I’m a slow traveler.

Meanwhile, I realized that in some places I wanted to visit (Las Vegas and National Parks), it was better to book ahead. So, I added to my reservations: - 2 nights in a hostel in Las Vegas - 6 nights of camping in the national parks (2 at Zion NP, 2 at Yosemite NP, 2 at Sequoia-Kings Canyon NP). Between all these dated stops, it’s a choose-your-own-adventure from the ideas I found.

I’m also a slow writer—slow writer, slow traveler—so it’ll take me a while to wrap this up. I’ll start tomorrow.
VA Valmichel86 Regular ·
Day 1: Monday, May 13, 2019 (Paris-San Francisco)

I had to spend the night in Paris since that’s where I live. Air Canada’s flight was scheduled for 10:45 AM, so I had plenty of time to get to Roissy, check in, and board. I don’t remember much about the process except that everything went smoothly and on time. I got up pretty quickly after takeoff, hoping to see the French coast and the sea since the weather was clear. And I wasn’t disappointed—the flight path showed the Normandy Bridge on the right side, followed by La Rivière-Saint-Sauveur, Honfleur, Pennedepie, and all the coastal towns all the way to the other end of the department (having grown up in Calvados, I know and recognize them all). Next came a view of the Cotentin Peninsula, and on the left, the island of Jersey. The Norman coast is gorgeous in the sun! The flight wasn’t direct; there was a layover in Canada, in Toronto, on the way there. When we arrived (around 1 PM), the cloud cover was low, *very* low, it was raining, and it was 6°C. Rain was beating against the windows and streaming down. I followed specific signs for transit to the U.S. At one point, a line had formed in front of a set of machines with about a dozen individual stations. The process involved scanning your passport and fingerprints. The passport scanner worked fine, but the fingerprint part was another story. Was the glass too dirty for the machine? Did I need to press harder with my finger? Either way, the machine just kept displaying "try again." In total, it took more than 10 attempts because there were multiple fingerprints to scan. Now I understood why there was a line—but I forgot my passport on the scanner. I ended up in a room with chairs, waiting like everyone else, before being directed to another area called the "American sector" out loud. After another line, I reached an immigration officer (if I understood correctly, when you have a layover in Toronto, U.S. entry control happens there instead of upon arrival in the U.S., since I wasn’t checked when I landed in San Francisco). Then I realized I’d forgotten my passport. "Sir, go back to where you left it and ask the agents for help." (It was maybe fifty meters back to the machines.) I couldn’t just turn around—the flow of travelers was one-way, and I was the only one going against it (which was forbidden). Agents stopped me and redirected me to the machines via a much longer and more unsettling route: a blind hallway, an intercom, waiting, a door opening by an agent I couldn’t see, then another blind hallway. Finally, I made it back to the machines and quickly retrieved my passport with the help of a French-speaking agent. A few dozen minutes later, I was back in front of an immigration officer. A few questions in French—the way my interviewer spoke left no doubt: it was his native language. His last name (on his badge) also sounded distinctly French. "What are you going to do in Nevada?" ... "Have a good trip." I assumed he was a French Canadian, but I wondered: do the U.S. employ Canadian citizens as immigration officers in Toronto? Or was he an American of French descent working there for his country?

The Toronto-San Francisco flight was on time, arriving around 7:15 PM.

I quickly retrieved my checked luggage. Then, if you know how to read and know that the rail connection to the city is called the "BART" (which I did), you can follow the signs (well done) and find yourself in front of a machine that sells tickets to San Francisco. The machine’s operation was confusing (even for the English speakers in front of me), and the company knows it because there was an employee there to help travelers. "Explaining" has never been an easy job, and the employee seemed to be getting tired of it. He asked the English speakers in front of me which station they wanted to go to and did everything for them (all they had to do was handle the payment with their credit card). When it was my turn, I made a point of doing it myself with the employee’s help (everyone’s got their little pride).

I’d booked 3 nights at the "HI San Francisco Downtown" hostel, which is on "Mason Street." I had to get off at "Powell Street Station," right in the center. Exiting the station, it was easy: two blocks north (on "Powell Street"), then left and right, and I was there. And if I’d walked those two blocks, turned around, gone back to the airport, and flown straight back to France, what would I have seen at that hour (around 8:30 PM)? -Moderate traffic -Ordinary pedestrians -Cable cars "turning around" -"Homeless," the local term for our rough sleepers.
MA Marati Globetrotter ·
Hi Michel, Great, a new travel journal I’ll follow with pleasure. Your pace will be ours ;) !
VA Valmichel86 Regular ·
Day 2: Tuesday, May 14, 2019 (San Francisco) The first night after a big time difference is never the best for sleep—that holds true. On the other hand, the hostel’s all-you-can-eat breakfast is a great idea, letting me tackle the morning and midday without worrying about food. It even keeps me going until early afternoon—perfect for tomorrow.

I take a quick walk outside before heading out: smart move. I’m wearing everything warm I packed—a thermal undershirt, a sweater, a thin fleece (the kind you wear under a winter jacket), plus a T-shirt.

I head to the "Powell Street" station, then follow "Market Street" down to the waterfront near the "Ferry Building" by the bay. As I cut through the buildings to reach the pier, I get a view of the "San Francisco-Oakland Bay Bridge."



I loop back through the streets near "Market Street."

In the afternoon, I decide to visit "San Francisco Maritime National Historical Park," located north of the numbered piers—past "Pier 45" or "Pier 47." Since the hostel is just steps from "Powell Street," I snap a few photos of the cable cars before hopping on the bus.





The bus rolls through Chinatown. By this point, the only English voice left is the automated stop announcements. If you catch a snippet of conversation or glance around, it’s unmistakably Chinatown—though I only get a quick glimpse from my seat.

Eventually, the bus leaves the neighborhood behind and drops me off at the end of "Hyde Street." "San Francisco Maritime" is a "National Historic Park" showcasing the Pacific Coast’s maritime history. Like any national park, it has a visitor center, which I check out. The ships are docked right nearby along "Hyde Street Pier." I buy the "America the Beautiful" pass, which will work for all national parks, and board the "C. A. Thayer."





It’s a schooner built in the late 19th century that was used for transporting lumber, salted salmon, and later fishing.

Next up is the "Balclutha."



A three-masted square-rigged ship and Cape Horner, it was used, among other things, to transport grain from California to Great Britain. There’s also a wooden paddle-wheel steamship, the "Eureka" (originally the "Ukiah"), which spent its entire career in the San Francisco Bay as a ferry for passengers, railroad cars, and eventually automobiles.

To get back downtown, I just follow "Hyde Street." And right where "Hyde Street" meets "Lombard Street," where am I? At the top of the world’s most famous steep street. "Lombard Street" stretches for miles, but its fame comes from this one short section.





The one-way downhill lane is designed with a series of switchbacks to reduce the grade to 16%. Pedestrians aren’t welcome on the road itself—stairs are provided on either side. That’s a good thing, because if you went straight down, the slope would be much steeper than 16%. The rest of the block is landscaped with tall plants that almost hide a low-slung car making the descent. In this long street, visible from its high point both east and west, this is the only section landscaped this way—the rest is a typical city street.



Taking photos from ground level isn’t easy.

This is my first "must-see" in the city, and for a must-see, there are certainly some people around, but it’s not too crowded. Afterward, I walk back downtown along either "Leavenworth Street" or "Hyde Street," making for a several-kilometer stroll.
BI Bibouns51 Globetrotter ·
Hi Michel, Great, a new travel journal I’ll follow with pleasure. Your pace will be ours ;) !

You get around, Guillaume! :P I’m jumping on board for this new journal too!
VA Valmichel86 Regular ·
Hey Guillaume, I’d definitely read your travel journal before leaving. I got some ideas from it and even some data—GPS coordinates that’ll come in handy in the "Alabama Hills".
TI Tifi2012 Regular ·
Good evening,

Great! Another little travel journal to read by the fireside! I'm in!

Vinciane
VA Valmichel86 Regular ·
Day 3: Wednesday, May 15, 2019 (San Francisco) I’m dressing like yesterday, with a K-way jacket on top to protect me from the rain (intermittent this morning) and the wind. I need to be at Pier 33 a little after 9:00 AM; the best way is to take the bus for most of the trip and then walk the rest. Here we go.

During the walk (toward "Sansome Street"), I see a guy coming toward me on the sidewalk—a big guy, 30-35 years old, beard somewhere between blond and red, short hair, fit, and... wearing a short-sleeved shirt! Respect, man! I should act (out of politeness) exactly as if I hadn’t noticed he was there, but caught off guard on this chilly morning, it’s not that easy. Actually, I picture him taking a break somewhere on the edge of a forest rather than in San Francisco. You might say: "There you go, falling into the cliché, the pioneer stereotype." Uh, yeah, but... I really had that impression.

I arrive at "Pier 33"; it’s the dock where boats leave for "Alcatraz Island."



The people who arrived early are waiting; ten minutes later, everyone boards, and the boat is full. Departure at 9:30 AM. The tourists who booked this "must-see" (I think everyone did, like me) don’t cancel even in less-than-ideal conditions—you wouldn’t get a refund. When we arrive on the island, at least a hundred people are waiting for the return trip: they must’ve taken the "early bird tour" (for early risers) and rushed through the visit. After the Ranger’s talk, people head to the screening room, then scatter everywhere. There are two main points of interest on the island: - the viewpoints - the penitentiary and its outbuildings.

Here’s the view of the "San Francisco-Oakland Bay Bridge"



and the one of the "Golden Gate Bridge."



Inside the penitentiary (audio guide in French), you can, in no particular order: - see the cells



- walk through the hallways, the library, the cafeteria, etc. - take photos of Al Capone’s picture or other prisoners - go out on the terrace to see the administration building from the outside



or the warden’s house (clearly less sturdy than the penitentiary itself)



- buy a ton of stuff at the gift shop - learn a bunch of things about the prison’s history and the inmates’ lives.

"You don’t escape from Alcatraz." That’s supposed to be a saying.

"Trying to swim for it" is more of a suicide attempt than an escape—the water’s cold, the currents are strong, and San Francisco is farther away than the opposite side of a pool.



However, in 1962, Frank Morris, Clarence Anglin, and John Anglin escaped using the ventilation ducts. They had a makeshift raft and left the island. They were never found: it’s assumed they drowned, but some claim they made it. The mystery remains, and the case has resurfaced in the news several times.

But memories are personal, and Alcatraz also brings back happy times for the warden’s daughters (wardens lived on the island). In the documents on display, you can see photos of them around 8-10 years old and read their testimonies. (very rough quotes from memory) "We had so much space to play outside!" "We went to school by boat every day!" "We were allowed to go out and play in the gardens." Life on the island reminds them of a happy childhood.

The gardens are still there, maintained by volunteers who were present that Wednesday, and they’re apparently of botanical interest.



Back in San Francisco (Pier 33), I disembark in the dock area. It’s past 2:00 PM, and there are tons of tourists (the intermittent rain stopped around noon and won’t start again until late afternoon). A bunch of stalls and shops offer everything you could want as a tourist: drinks, food, souvenirs to bring back, plus attractions like the Bay Aquarium—there’s plenty to do. I grab a bite to eat; the all-you-can-eat breakfast calories are long gone by this hour. It’s also a chance to get used to San Francisco prices, which are *very* high. I spend my time wandering: shops, docks including the famous "Pier 39."





At the end of "Fisherman’s Wharf," I’m at the spot where the distance between "Alcatraz Island" and the coast is the shortest. View of "Alcatraz Island."



I’ve also reached the place where I was yesterday afternoon, "San Francisco Maritime NP." I’d love to visit the maritime museum, but I let time slip away, and it closes in 20 minutes. I head back on foot via "Polk Street," which starts right across from the museum. The northern part of "Polk Street" is lined with well-kept small buildings.



Farther down "Polk Street," I stop by a neighborhood grocery store. What a bad idea to try to buy an apple and a yogurt! We’re not just talking high prices anymore—these are *prohibitive*. They must’ve set them on purpose so people wouldn’t buy them... and fall back on what? For fresh fruit, bananas are at a normal price; for dairy, nothing. San Francisco prices! !
VA Valmichel86 Regular ·
Day 4: Thursday, May 16, 2019 (San Francisco-Allensworth)

I take the BART to San Francisco Airport where I’ve reserved a car from Alamo; it’s an "Intermediate" category vehicle (for reference, a Hyundai Elantra or similar). Since you can choose your car from those available in the category, I do a few quick tests. I want "sleeping in the car by folding down part of the split backseat" to be as comfortable as possible (I had to do this last year when pitching a tent wasn’t an option). I pick a Nissan Sentra. Route



I leave the airport area and drive south on US-101 through the metro area to San José. I continue to Gilroy through a landscape with yellowed grasses (like late-summer grasses in France). After shopping in Gilroy, my route crosses a ridge (Coast Range), goes around San Luis Reservoir, and I merge onto I-5 (Interstate 5) heading south. Since this morning, it’s been a cycle of showers with lots of wind: blue sky, clouds rolling in, a good downpour, clouds clearing out, and the cycle repeats. I now have a thermometer, and the temperature fluctuates between 12°C and 16°C. On the Interstate, I suddenly notice a big billboard: a kid scratching their head, totally baffled, wondering (in a speech bubble) "Is growing food waste water?" They’ve just heard the argument that using water for irrigation is a waste. The debate on this topic must be intense in California. The kid clearly represents the viewpoint of farmers in the San Joaquin Valley. That’s the huge (and irrigated) plain between the Coast Range and the Sierra Nevada. I couldn’t stop on the Interstate to photograph the billboard, but I later saw the phrase posted many times by the farmers’ side—just without the kid from the ad. At exit 305 (mile markers), I leave the Interstate, head east to cross the San Joaquin Valley, and arrive in Alpaugh, a small town with a few houses in the plain. There’s a store: gas + groceries + a little bit of everything. I go in out of curiosity: on the food side, snacks (sweet or salty) and chilled drinks (beer and sugary drinks) take up about half the shelf space.

A few miles later, I reach Allensworth (still in the plain). Allensworth is a utopia, one man’s dream: Allen Allensworth. Born into slavery, he escaped during the Civil War and joined the Union ranks. After the war, he built a career in the military (rising to lieutenant colonel), pursued studies (earning a doctorate in theology), and became a pastor. After retiring from the army in 1906, he settled in California and launched a project for an independent, self-sufficient town funded and governed by Black Americans. The town was founded in 1908 and thrived: farmers, artisans, shopkeepers, a doctor, a school. 1914 marked the turning point: the railroad station was moved to Alpaugh, water supply issues arose, and Allensworth died in an accident. After that, it was a gradual decline and eventual abandonment. It’s now a California State Park; about twenty buildings have been meticulously restored (maybe *too* meticulously—it feels brand new). They’re visible from the outside (I think the interiors are open on weekends). The park reports 70,000 visitors a year; today, I can count them on one hand.

Mary Dickinson Library.



Elementary school.



Allen Allensworth’s house.



Baptist church.



So? "Ghost town or not ghost town?"

Night at the State Park campground.
VA Valmichel86 Regular ·
Day 5: Friday, May 17, 2019 (Allensworth-Lone Pine)

For me, it’ll be a "Ghost Town"—I’m sticking to the literal meaning. But if we consider what the term "ghost town" usually evokes—presence of precious ore, boomtown, mostly male population, saloons, violence, etc.—then no, it doesn’t fit.

Route.



It doesn’t take long to reach Delano. I pass through the center and accidentally exit via "Cecil Avenue." Once out, I cross a vineyard, "Columbine Wineyards," an impressive example of "industrial" agriculture (it must cover hundreds, if not thousands, of hectares). Just so you know, it’s table grapes. Back on Route 155, I reach the first hills (foothills of the Sierra Nevada) with rocky outcrops in the fields.



The road climbs slowly, reaching Glennville (elevation 1,000 meters), and continues upward. Landscape around 1,500 meters elevation.



Visibility keeps dropping, as does the temperature, and the stretch around the pass (2,000 meters elevation) is foggy and damp with a temperature of 2°C. On the descent toward "Lake Isabella" (the lake), the scenery changes. I’m entering a much drier region.



I go around the lake to the south. The wind is fierce, whipping up choppy waves on the reservoir, and the temperature is only 11°C. The steppe landscape (sagebrush steppe) takes over.



I spot my first Joshua Trees—I’m surprised because I didn’t expect to see them here. I thought you had to go farther south into the Mojave Desert.





I cross the pass (Walker Pass, 1,500 meters), descend the eastern side of the Sierra, and take US-395 toward Lone Pine. The wind has died down, the sky is blue, and for the first time since I arrived, it’s pleasant: 22°C. The Sierra Nevada seen from the Indian Wells area.



My next stop is the "Fossil Falls" site. You need to take a dirt road east of US-395 called "Cinder Cone Road," which (as the name suggests) passes near a cinder cone.



Then follow the "Fossil Falls" sign to reach the parking lot and take a short hike. These are dry falls carved into basalt from volcanic flows and the action of water during the Ice Age. The water carved its way through the basalt flows.









Not far away is "Little Lake." I don’t remember exactly how to get there from "Fossil Falls," but it’s a short distance (a few kilometers, dirt roads).



Next, I head to "Cottonwood Creek Charcoal Kilns." The site is 13 miles south of Lone Pine, on a dirt track toward "Owens Lake" (dried up). Before reaching the lake, there are two kilns. They were used to make charcoal for processing ore mined at Cerro Gordo, a ghost town on the other side of the lake in the mountains. I think they’re slowly deteriorating (no protection).



Night at "Portagee Joe Campground" (Lone Pine).
VA Valmichel86 Regular ·
Day 6: Saturday, May 18, 2019 (Lone Pine-Panamint Springs)

Route.



I’ll spend most of the day in the "Alabama Hills," a group of hills located 3 km west of Lone Pine (toward the Sierra Nevada). It’s a very rocky area with a somewhat desert-like appearance, where the rock is granite. It’s managed by the BLM (Bureau of Land Management) and is free to access. You can find: 1- Arches 2- Rocks with strange shapes (fish, jaguar, Batman, etc.) 3- Western movie filming locations. Lone Pine was a "Hollywood annex," and hundreds of outdoor scenes were shot here. There’s a film history museum in the center of Lone Pine. Depending on your interests, you choose what to look for. For me, it’ll be hunting for arches. Apart from the trail called "Arch Trail Walk," to avoid searching randomly, it’s best to have a detailed map and/or GPS coordinates. I have a hiking GPS without a USA base map (I didn’t buy one because I’m not sure I’ll return). For GPS coordinates, I’d like to thank "Marati" and others on this forum. I also used a site associated with "Isabel Synnatschke" and one linked to "National Geographic ushikes." . So, via "Movie Road," I head to the "Arch Trail Walk" parking lot. From here, a loop trail starts (no risk of getting lost) that leads to the most famous arch, "Moebius Arch."

"Moebius Arch" facing the Sierra Nevada.



"Moebius Arch" with the Sierra Nevada behind.



"Moebius Arch" facing the sky.



I chat with two Americans who turn out to be able to identify "Mount Whitney" (the highest point in the USA outside Alaska, located in the Sierra; 4,421 meters high).

"Moebius Arch" with "Mount Whitney," the peak just left of the photo’s center.



Very close to "Moebius Arch" is "Lathe Arch," harder to find because it’s very low (photo taken almost lying down).

"Lathe Arch."



On the loop before returning to the parking lot, "Heart Arch."



I drive back along "Movie Road." Maybe 1 km farther, on the right side of the track, uphill: "Eye of Alabama."



And a slightly wider view of the site (which is actually much larger).



Continuing north on the track for about 3 km, you reach an area with two more arches. "Boot Arch."



"Cyclop's Skull Arch" (from two different angles).





"One Mile Arch" is located very close to "Movie Road," on the stretch between "Whitney Portal Road" and the "Arch Trail Walk" parking lot.



The next two are called:

"Hitching Post Arch"



and

"Taco Bell Arch."



While the other arches can be found with a map, these last two, in my opinion, require a GPS.

I have a picnic on-site (it’s well past lunchtime). The weather is beautiful, but the temperature hasn’t risen since this morning because a cold wind has picked up and become very strong.

Next, I head to the Manzanar internment camp, located between Lone Pine and Independence. After the attack on Pearl Harbor, Americans interned Japanese living in the USA, as well as American citizens of Japanese descent. Manzanar was one of the internment camps and held up to 11,000 prisoners. Today, it’s a "National Historic Site." You can visit a "Visitor Center" and see replicas of barracks with exhibits about the prisoners, their life in the camp, and this dark chapter of American history.



I return to the "Alabama Hills" to look for more arches in different areas than this morning. It’s an activity that requires time, which I don’t really have left. So, I won’t see "Whitney Portal Arch" (gave up right at the parking lot—too far). I’ll see three other arches near "Horseshoe Meadows Road," then "Tuttle Creek Road," and miss a fourth one.

"Palette Arch."



"Gunga Arch."



"Tuttle Creek Arch" near a stream on private land, nothing like the arid landscape of the rest of the site.



I do some shopping and head toward "Panamint Valley." The road climbs, and I reach a viewpoint called "Father Crawley Vista Point."



You overlook "Panamint Valley" (470 meters elevation) from about 1,000 meters up. At this spot, it’s part of "Death Valley National Park." I drive down almost to the bottom and stop at "Panamint Springs," where there’s a campground. The temperature, with the drop in elevation and no wind, has become very pleasant. The ground is too hard to pitch the tent easily, so I’ll use the car as a backup.
VA Valmichel86 Regular ·
Day 7: Sunday, May 19, 2019 (Panamint Springs-Furnace Creek)

Route.



It’s a "Death Valley" day; I’ll be keeping an eye on the thermometer because I expect it to be hot, but that won’t really be the case. Departure at 16°C; the road crosses "Panamint Valley" and starts to climb. View looking back at "Panamint Valley."



A little further on, a view ahead toward the pass.



At the pass (about 1,500 meters in altitude), it’s 7°C and a very strong wind is blowing; it won’t let up all day. The descent toward "Death Valley" is quite long.



Without stopping at "Stovepipe Wells," I head straight to the "Visitor Center" at "Furnace Creek" to get some info; it’s 27°C, and the temperature won’t rise much more (max of 29°C). I decide to start with "Badwater"; on the way, I take a quick look at the mountains towering over "Death Valley": "Telescope Peak" at over 3,300 meters in altitude (after some hesitation, I’m now pretty sure of my identification).



At "Badwater," the lowest point in "Death Valley" (-86 meters) and even in North America, once parked, I head out onto this vast salt flat that shimmers.



Long before reaching the end, which seems to recede with the reflections, I’ve already walked quite a distance from the parking lot.



The reflections are the hallmark of this area and create strange effects.



I return near the parking lot and check out a small lake between the salt deposits.



In May, it’s definitely a small lake: there’s water. I read on an info sign that it’s permanent, though I still have my doubts.

I head back north to do the "Natural Bridge Trail" hike. It’s an out-and-back trail, not too long, that involves hiking up a canyon.





From the parking lot for this hike, you get an impressive view of the reflections in the "Badwater" area.



I continue back toward "Furnace Creek," and the next stop is "Devil's Golf Course," a classic. Just a few steps from the car, you’re on the "Golf Course"; it’s nicknamed that because only the devil could play golf on such terrain.



It’s a chance to get a close-up of the salt mounds.



Another Death Valley classic is taking "Artists Palette Drive," a one-way road that winds along the side of the "Amargosa Range." It rises above the valley floor;



I get another view of the reflections and "mirages" in the "Badwater" area.



The wind has become so strong that it’s hard to walk against it, and you have to be careful not to get blown away by the gusts (I’d say it’s blowing around 80 km/h). That’s how it is at all the stops along "Artists Palette Drive."









I then head to "Furnace Creek" to check out the camping options; only "Sunset Campground" is open, though "campground" isn’t quite the right word—it’s a huge parking lot with the ground being Death Valley dirt, covered with a layer of gravel. With the wind, there’s no way I’m setting up a tent and leaving it there for the rest of the afternoon.

To be continued in the next post.
JU Ju45 Regular ·
Hi Michel,

Back on the forum, I’m enjoying following your travel journal. After the one in Oregon, which confirmed my desire to explore that state and cheat a little on the Southwest—it pulls us in like a magnet. I love the photos, the historical details, and the "slow" (your words) and contemplative pace, so different from mine. Keep up the good work with the rest of the writing!

Julien
VA Valmichel86 Regular ·
Day 7: Sunday, May 19 (continued) I’m heading to "Zabriskie Point"; once I arrive at the parking lot, I temporarily skip the climb to the viewpoint itself and take the trail to the right for the hike called "Badlands Loop." It descends into an area with quite rugged terrain, completely devoid of vegetation (badlands, after all!) and the wind almost completely dies down in this maze of small valleys and ravines.



The trail markers are more than enough to avoid getting lost. You just have to let yourself go, look around... and pay attention to the changing light, as the sun is quite fickle in this late afternoon, often present but sometimes hidden by clouds.



















Back at the parking lot, I head up to "Zabriskie Point."



The crowd at "Zabriskie Point" is around fifty people. For the "Badlands Loop," after passing two hikers early on who were heading back up toward the parking lot, I didn’t run into anyone else—I had the entire site to myself. You should plan for about 1.5 to 2 hours for this hike, taking the time to enjoy the scenery (I don’t know exactly how long I took). There’s some elevation change, but without the heat like today, it’s an easy hike and, most importantly, it’s one you won’t forget!

I return to "Sunset Campground." The weather is going to be cloudy until nightfall. The wind isn’t as strong as earlier, but it’s still very gusty. The ground is too hard to try pitching the tent in this wind (like yesterday, I’ll have to use the backup plan). There are very few people in this large parking lot, and those who set up tents used their cars as windbreaks. Some motorcyclists, who don’t have an alternative, are struggling; they’ll have to take shelter behind a building to manage setting up their tents.

Thanks to all the readers of this travel journal, whether you sent a message or not. Happy holidays to everyone. This travel journal is on pause and will resume in 2020.
MA Marati Globetrotter ·
Hey Michel, Badlands Loop is a treat around every bend. Like you said, it's an easy hike (as long as you watch the °C) and one you won't forget!! Thanks Michel for this travel journal and hope you have great holidays too!
VA Valmichel86 Regular ·
Thanks Guillaume, if I remember your travel journal correctly, you combined Golden Canyon, Badlands Loop, and Gower Gulch into one hike. I’ve split them into two: Golden Canyon and Gower Gulch will be for tomorrow.
MA Marati Globetrotter ·
Yeah, exactly. 😉
MA Masterpo Globetrotter ·
Thanks to all the readers of this travel journal, whether they sent a message or not.

Well, there you go, I finally sent one. And thanks to you instead. We’ll just wait for 2020 to roll around easy...
VA Valmichel86 Regular ·
Day 8: Monday, May 20 (Furnace Creek - Lathrop Wells)

Route



This morning it's cool, the wind has calmed down a lot during the night, and the sky is gray (with a few drops) except to the south where some blue is already visible. I'm going for a loop hike starting from the "Golden Canyon" parking lot a few kilometers south of "Furnace Creek." I set off at 7:30 AM (temperature 18°C); the trail heads into "Golden Canyon," and the clouds disappear during the first fifteen minutes of walking, giving way to a completely blue sky. The landscape lives up to the name "Golden Canyon."





If you ignore the upper parts, which are redder or browner. As I continue up the canyon, a wall appears on the left, "Red Cathedral," toward which a round-trip trail branches off from the main path.



I head toward this wall; a quick look back;



the trail narrows, starts to climb, and ends at the foot of "Red Cathedral."





Once back on the main "Golden Canyon" trail, I continue along a rugged section that leads into an area near yesterday’s hike, "Badlands Loop" (there’s even a shared section of trail between the two hikes).





The second part of the hike, called "Gower Gulch," involves descending this ravine





until it opens into the valley, onto a terrace near "Badwater Road."



There’s still a good kilometer left on the terrace to return to the starting point. It’s 10:30 AM (I took 3 hours); the sun is beating down hard even though the temperature is still mild (25°C).

By car, I head back toward "Furnace Creek," take a right onto Highway 190 to go to "Dante's View." I’ll make a detour via a dirt road ("Twenty Mule Team Drive") that branches off to the right and rejoins the same Highway 190 a few kilometers later. The colors remind me of "Golden Canyon," which I walked through 3 hours earlier.





Further on, the road to "Dante's View" turns right and continues its climb; the last few kilometers are quite steep, and I arrive at a viewpoint overlooking all of "Death Valley." This viewpoint is right above "Badwater," with a 1,700-meter elevation difference between the two (which explains the 12°C at this late morning hour). I’m impressed by - the visual effects from the salt deposits - the hazy appearance of the distant landscapes (to the north, those distant landscapes are really far away—maybe 100 km as the crow flies to reach the base of the mountains in the background on the second photo).





The rest of the day in the next post.
MA Malamille Regular ·
Hi there, jumping in on the trip and thanks for the discovery of the Alabama Hills arches—I’d completely missed them during my two trips through that area.

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