Posts Tagged ‘travel’

I was so involved cramming for a mathematics placement test, I forgot to post my photos of Death Valley’s Harmony Borax Works ruins.  Better late than never…

In 1883,  Chinese laborers were recruited from San Francisco and hauled out to the middle of scorching nowhere to the Harmony Borax Works, seduced by $1.30 a day wages (minus food and lodging, such as it was).  I can’t help wondering how much money the men actually cleared.

The work was straightforward and physically grueling:  scrape borax-containing “cottonball” off the desert floor, haul ore carts full of it up an incline, dump the contents into huge vats of boiling spring water, add the carbonated soda that would separate the suspended borax solution from the crud, pour the borax water into cooling tanks filled with metal rods, and chop the crystallized borax off the rods into bags.  These would be loaded and hauled off by twenty-mule teams across 165 miles of desert.  Work stopped when the desert air temperature reached 120 degrees Fahrenheit.  (Not for worker safety, of course; borax refuses to crystallize at those temperatures).

I think these brake pads are layers of canvas

Hmmm…dumping borax ore into boiling water in broiling desert heat.                                        Still think your job’s tough? 🙂

More money was made from borax in Death Valley than gold,
but Harmony Borax Works only lasted five years


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There are a few places in hot, dry Death Valley that have water.  For example, Stovepipe Wells got its name from the “stovepipe well” nearby; sections of stovepipe had been pounded into the ground long ago to shore up the sides of a nearby well and to mark its location.  Scotty’s Castle was built because of a natural creek flowing downhill toward its location.  And here’s another spring-fed oasis:

Thanks to water provided by Furnace Creek, The Inn has been in business since 1927

You walk through a tunnel and through a magic door…    🙂

…what lies beyond?…

…and…surprise!  Lily ponds in the desert!

The music of cascading streams is soothing

Walking paths meander down the hill past streambeds, little waterfalls and lily ponds, surrounded by palms and punctuated with bougainvillea.  Tucked into flowery corners and nooks are seating areas, and the spring-fed pool is nearby:

Panamint Mountains view, and the arid desert on the other side of the trees

Hmm…an upscale resort nestled at the foot of the Funeral Mountains, south of Hells Gate, northwest of Coffin Peak, Deadman Pass and Badwater Basin, in a place called Death Valley…you’d think it would be a tough sell, wouldn’t you?  But no!

In fact, Death Valley is packed all summer with European tourists who want to see for themselves just how hot, hot can get.  Air temperatures hit 120 degrees Fahrenheit in the summer, and ground temps can top 200 degrees.  Americans vanish in the summer like the surface water at Badwater, and leave the place to German and French travelers who want to find out if the soles of rubber-soled shoes really will melt as they walk through Death Valley.

The architects borrowed from the California Mission style -- good choice

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Death Valley looks peaceful and unchanging, and is anything but!

This is Ubehebe Crater, near Scotty’s Castle.  Its estimated age ranges from a few hundred to 2,000 years — just an eyeblink in geologic time.

The volcano blew and left this behind

This is the biggest crater in the volcanic field at the north end of the park.  Magma crawled through fault lines and hit an underground water supply, and the superheated steam blasted this crater and smaller ones nearby.

The layers of rock are a time capsule:

Geologists can read the layers like a history book

There’s a pathway to nearby Little Hebe Crater, another down to the bottom of Ubehebe, and a trail that winds around the rim.  Volcanic activity, earthquakes, flash floods, and extremes of hot and cold all shape and reshape this land.

Trail to Little Hebe Crater

Gusts of wind at the top of the crater can just about knock you off your feet, so care is needed on the trails.

Weird thought — this view could vanish in the next explosion…

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“This would just be a rich man’s vacation house if it weren’t for the stories,” said the park ranger.

We were standing in a rather grand house plunked down in the north end of Death Valley National Park’s three-million-plus acres of desert scrub and mountain ranges.  See the vegetation in the corner of the photo below?  That’s why the house is here; spring water flows at over 200 gallons a minute downhill toward this location.

Death Valley Ranch, a.k.a. Scotty's Castle

And the stories?  Tales of near-death experiences, fortunes won and lost, water rights skullduggery, con men and cowboys, one man who was both…

"I've seen Hearst Castle," said the ranger, "and I think Scotty's Castle is a bit more...tasteful."

Albert Johnson, born into an extremely wealthy family, studied engineering at Cornell University, met his future wife Bessie there, and married her after they graduated.  He borrowed money from his father to invest in a mine and turned it into his own huge fortune.  In 1899, on a trip out west with his father to inspect other mines to invest in, Albert survived a horrific train crash that killed his father and left Albert with a broken back.  He made a miraculous recovery and moved to Chicago to take over his late father’s business interests.  He and his dad’s partner bought the National Life Insurance Company and Johnson was soon raking in a million dollars a year from that company alone (about $25 million a year in today’s money).  He had the money to indulge his whims, and one of those was investing in mines.

Love that weathervane...

Enter part-time cowboy and full-time con artist Walter Scott, a.k.a. Death Valley Scotty, selling shares of his non-existent gold mine to wealthy investors like Albert.  When there were no returns on the investment, Albert headed west to find out why.  He ended up hanging out with Scotty, sleeping in the desert, cooking over campfires, playing cowboy and loving it.  He’d return year after year, sometimes accompanied by Bessie, who grew tired of vacationing in a shack; Albert started building her a house in 1922.

Nobody uses the official name above the door 🙂

By this time, adventurous people were traveling to Death Valley and would end up knocking at the door.  Johnson, a private, eccentric man, was happy to let Scotty tell everyone that he, Scotty, was the owner of the house.  Scotty would sit on his “throne” built into an alcove in the living room and regale visitors seated before him with preposterous stories.

The two-story living room has lots of leather couches for the visitors who'd gather to hear Scotty's tall tales

Scotty claimed he built the house right above his gold mine so he could protect his property.  Albert Johnson, hiding nearby, would give the signal to his servants in the kitchen, who would bang on pots and pans.  “Hear that?” Scotty would say.  “That’s my men down below, mining my gold for me!”

Fringed, tooled-leather curtains keep out the desert sun

As always, I’m interested in some of the little details:

European artisans crafted custom metalwork. Tiles came from local sources and Spain.

There were metal air vents built into the outside walls for ventilation.  Scotty would tell visitors these were for his shotgun, so he could shoot bad guys trying to break in.

Albert Johnson must have had quite a crew of metalworkers on the job

Scotty could talk your ear off, but so could Albert’s wife Bessie.  She was a religious woman who had been a preacher.  All household help had to sign an employment contract agreeing to listen to Bessie’s sermons every Sunday, their day off.  What they didn’t know was that Bessie’s sermons lasted five hours!

The music room was filled with instruments that played themselves. like this piano. I'll bet the hired help would have preferred to be here... 🙂

There is also an underground tour that shows visitors the nuts and bolts of running this house.  Albert Johnson (who studied engineering in college) didn’t invent any of the technology he installed; he used what was available in the 1920’s.  This included electricity generated through a Pelton water wheel mechanism.  Hope you can read this:

Here's the description of how electricity was generated and stored

A Pelton water wheel is on the left:

The park ranger is in 1920's clothing because a park with costumed rangers gets to keep all the money generated BY the park FOR the park

There was a solar water heater as well (now decommissioned because people were stealing the copper).

The Great Depression put an end to the building improvements, and also put an end to Johnson’s fortune.  After much wrangling over property boundaries, water rights, etc., he got to keep the house, but his business interests all went bust.  Nevertheless, he died at 75 and attributed his long life to the desert climate and the happiness he found there.

Friends would tell him, “You know Scotty’s a thief, and a liar, and he’s stolen from you, don’t you?”  He would reply, “I have received much more entertainment value from Scotty than I paid for.”

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So, let me back up a bit from my last post.  On the way into Death Valley from the south, we ate breakfast at the Mad Greek in Baker (all those truckers can’t be wrong, and they weren’t), then drove up 127 to Death Valley Junction, hung a left and said, “Whoa.” We stopped at the Amargosa Opera House, which doesn’t look as if it’s been an opera house for quite some time — it’s a hotel, but it looked abandoned:

The only sound was the wind

These doors are hidden under the arch in the photo above

Time and heat take their toll...

Desert patina 🙂

There’s a cafe nearby run by a friendly lady from Minnesota.  There’s also a parking lot behind abandoned buildings across the street where people boondock, but we were on our way to Zabriskie Point.  More later…

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I hope y’all have been doing fine during my absence.  The dodgy wireless transmitter was replaced in late February and has been doing fine; it’s the human transmitter who’s been preoccupied…  😉

We went to Death Valley National Park, and I’m finally beginning to understand why some people love the desert — no traffic, no cell phone signal, no internet, no TV — no problem!

Mosaic Canyon, up a washboard road near Stovepipe Wells

Don't these layers of rock, shoved up then eroded by water, look like flowing water themselves?

Mosaic Canyon's beautiful, subtle colors attract photographers

The smooth marble canyon walls feel cold on the skin even on a warm day

So, what do you do for entertainment when you’re not exploring?  You share wine and cheese with your neighbors in the campground.  You share an impromptu potluck with other hikers at the Mosaic Canyon trailhead.  You break out the playing cards, or converse over gin-and-tonics as you watch the sun drop behind the mountains.  Or, if you’re Sweet Pea, you take long naps.

No dogs allowed on the trail. *sigh* Nap time...no hurry, no worry....

Next post:  Scotty’s Castle?  Ubehebe Crater?  Furnace Creek?  Amargosa Opera House?  I haven’t decided.  Watch this space!  🙂

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I think that’s Charlie Brown’s line, actually, but I do feel as if Lucy’s pulled the football away from me AGAIN.

Why?  My super-trick T-Mobile 4G wireless transmitter has bitten the dust, and I won’t get my replacement until next week.  Well done, Quality Control Engineers in Shenzhen or Zhongshan or whatever manufacturing metropolis is responsible for my frustration!  🙂

This is why I haven’t been commenting on other people’s blogs too often lately — I’ve been getting The Spinning Colorful Wheel Of Death as my Mac looks around, baffled, wondering where the connection went!  But rest assured, I’ll be back blabbing away ASAP.

Anyhow, I’ve come full circle.  My first post was from a Starbucks on the road, and here I am, at yet another, iced latte and wall outlet close at hand.

I’m down, but not out…  🙂

I wish we had Smell-o-Vision so you could enjoy the scent of this pink jasmine...

It’s February 22, it’s 80 degrees, and just look at all the fall leaves blanketing the park.  I have no idea what name to give this season!  (But I know I like it!)  🙂

Okay, gotta go.  Downloading photos here is so…..s..l..o..w…..  More later!

It's fall...um, no, winter...erm...spring? summer?  No idea, really!  :)

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I said I would post again SOON.  Ahem.  (Twelve days without posting in Bloggerland is like twelve weeks in the real world).  But you know how it is; things come up, complications arise, blah blah blah.  The main thing is, everything and everybody is OK.  We’ve had some sunny days and some cloudy days, but overall it’s pretty darn gorgeous here in Southern California.

Without further ado, here’s some proof:

Sea lions on a buoy in Newport Beach, taking a break from scuttling people's boats

Sweet Pea wants you to know that Dog Beach in Huntington Beach is a really great place to let your dog be a dog:

Where's the stick?

Here's the stick!

Here's the stick again...shorter, the more we play...

...and here's a surfer...

...and here's an oil drill rig platform... 🙂

Actually, the platforms look pretty cool at night, lit up like ships in the ocean.  There are only a couple of them left, but Huntington Beach still has vestiges of the long-gone oil boom.  As you walk down the streets near the beach, you’ll pass the occasional million-dollar house with a fenced-off sand lot next to it containing a little drill rig, perched like a grasshopper in a small field.

Parks are nice places to hang out, too, and you never know who you’re going to meet:

"I like a nice drink of nectar first thing in the morning. Tall decaf, please."

But the end of the day provided this shot:

Palm tree sunset in the park

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Hmmm….let’s see:

Decisions, decisions ...

I know one thing for certain — nothing is certain!  🙂   But we are in southern California, and I suspect the next post will be about Huntington Beach.  Meanwhile, the day is overcast but nice, Sweet Pea has had her walk, and all is right with our little world…

A quiet lake is a pleasant place to linger...

Just for the heck of it, one last shot of Santa Cruz for Mats: http://www.matsljunggren.com/

View from Gilbert's FireFish Grill Restaurant on the wharf

Oh, and one last thing about visiting Santa Cruz:  There are locals who think it’s cute to post fake signs to mislead visitors.  Clearly, these are people who haven’t been beaten up nearly often enough in their lives!  Follow your maps, ignore random signage, and all will be well.  🙂

I’ll post again SOON.  (How can it possibly be February 7 already?)

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I’m having some technical difficulties with my computer, so this post will be briefer than usual — sorry.  (Or maybe that’s a good thing!)

I showed you a photo last time of the Santa Cruz Surfing Museum inside the Mark Abbott Memorial Lighthouse, located on West Cliff Drive next to the famous surfing spot called Steamer Lane.  It was the first museum anywhere dedicated to the sport.  It is also a memorial to the founders’ 18-year-old surfer son, who challenged the waves nearby and lost.

Mark Abbott's ashes and personal artifacts are behind a locked gate in the museum

If you’re in Santa Cruz, it’s worth a stop, even if you’re not a surfer.  The tiny museum packs in a great overview of surfing’s history, the local heroes, classic surfboards, artwork, ephemera, photos and videos, and the niche seen in the photo above, on the right as you enter.

Afterward, take a walk around Lighthouse Point and Lighthouse Field.  This bronze statue is nearby:

"To Honor Surfing"

The cliffs dropping off to the ocean are pretty dramatic.

Wonder why I couldn't keep a straight horizon line that day? Was the wine at lunch involved? 🙂

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