There is life in Death Valley
Winter -- a not so hot time to visit the area

Author: By John J. Ronan, Globe Correspondent

John J. Ronan is a poet, professor, and freelancer who lives in Gloucester.

Date: SUNDAY, February 28, 1999

Page: M5

Section: Travel

Death Valley National Park is located along the eastern backbone of California and in western Nevada. At 5,180 square miles, it is larger than Connecticut, and the biggest of our national parks outside Alaska.

Death Valley seems well-named. The legend may live, but what else could survive in a climate where the average rainfall is less than two inches and the humidity dips below 1 percent? And heat! July's average low is 88 degrees. The highest recorded temperature, 134 degrees, was taken in the shade, and ground temperatures can top 200. Though Azizia, Libya, has been hotter, at 136 degrees, Death Valley consistently has the highest temperatures on the planet. It is no surprise that the Funeral Mountains overlook the valley, which contains the Devil's Golf Course and the Devil's Corn Field. Not to mention Badwater, and the Badlands . . .. You get the idea.

But climate extremes needn't concern a winter traveler. Though temperatures can fall into the 30s at night, days in Death Valley average in the 60s in December and January, rising to the 80s in February and March, almost always under a clear sun. A good rule of thumb for determining Death Valley highs in winter is to check the Las Vegas high and add five or six degrees.

All activities are available thoughout the year, including guided bus tours. There are practically endless miles of hiking trails, where the only danger is old mine shafts. There are also ghost towns, town sites and ruins such as Skidoo, Panamint City, Harrisburg, Ashford Mill, and the Eagle Borax Works. Hiking or driving, destinations should include the stunning scenery at Dante's View, Artists Palette, Titus Canyon, Scotty's Castle, and Zabriskie Point. Film fans will recognize the view from Zabriskie Point; it was used in Antonioni's rather forgetful flick of the same name back in 1970. Many films have been shot here. And as every good Jedi Knight knows, George Lucas filmed ``Star Wars'' here.

The most convenient access to Death Valley's wonders is through McCarran International, in Las Vegas. The easiest route from city to park, a northwesterly drive of about 2 1/2 hours, begins on US 95.

Once free of the Las Vegas sprawl and its ever-present construction, the highway slices through timeless, arid flatland. It is bordered by the Desert Mountain Range to the east, site of the Desert National Wildlife Range, and the Spring Mountains to the west, location of Red Rock Canyon and the Toiyabe National Forest. At Amargosa Valley, Nevada Route 373 cuts south toward California and the southernmost park entrance; seven miles later, and 100 yards after the last casino, it's Welcome to California.

The Golden State's population is more than 30 million. But here, 300 miles east of Big Sur, nobody's home. Death Valley Junction, where California Route 190 begins and heads north into the park, has a population of eight. In the 30 miles between Death Valley Junction and Furnace Creek, the next hamlet, there is no one.

The terrain may be empty, but it can be oddly familiar, recalling images of other worlds. If not a galaxy far, far away, then the Moon, or Mars, as seen in the pictures transmitted home in July 1997. Death Valley is certainly as rugged and almost as timeless: a footprint left in desert soil can last for years. Indeed, in the neighboring Mojave Desert, there are still tank tracks left by Patton's forces as they trained in the 1940s.

And yet, unlike Mars and contradicting its own name, Death Valley is far from lifeless. There are countless varieties of insects and bats to feed on them at dusk. There are also more than 260 kinds of birds from ravens to golden eagles. Kids may even get a chance to see a real roadrunner. There are more than 40 types of mammal, too, from packrats and jackrabbits to bighorn sheep. And, of course, there are reptiles, at least 30 kinds, ranging from rattlesnakes, like the sidewinder, to lizards, like the chuckwalla.

The desert tortoise deserves special mention. This remarkable animal can go a year without water, though it knows enough to dig a ditch to catch water when it does rain.

The most amazing wildlife fact about Death Valley is that it boasts several unique varieties of fish. These small pupfish occupy isolated waterholes and, along with close relations in the Colorado River Basin, once shared a common ancestor. As the climate dried, waterholes were cut off from the Colorado, as well as each other, and stranded fish populations began to evolve in separate directions.

Plant life, too, survives in the valley. With a little help, fan palms flourish, and there are enough date palms to create a small cottage industry in the sweet fruit. Mesquite trees, which can send water-seeking taproots down 60 feet, are common. As are the beavertail, and other types of cacti, along with creosotebush, brittlebush, arrowweed, and the desert holly that is often used for Christmas decorations. All these have made remarkable engineering adaptations to low-elevation heat and dryness. On upper slopes, out of the searing heat, grow California juniper, along with pinyon, limber, and bristlecone pines. Some of these bristlecone pines are more than 2,000 years old.

The range of habitat is extreme, in part, because of the geological forces that created Death Valley. Unlike most valleys, there was never a river here, softening the environment and the rocks over which it gushed. From bordering peaks to salt flats, the creation of Death Valley is the story of mountain making. The Amargosa and Panamint ranges began their rise about 10 million years ago, breaking through a gently rolling plain. What was left of the plain became depressed valley floor. Between the two ranges now are the lowest elevations in the Western Hemisphere, bottoming out at -- 282 feet, near Badwater. Only 16 miles away, near Panamint City, is Death Valley's highest point, the 11,049-foot Telescope Peak.

The territory that is now Death Valley has alternated from lake country to arid desert, depending on weather patterns. The disappearance of earlier lakes during the present dry, hot phase left the whitish salt pan, or salina, on the valley floor. One of the salts crystallized there by evaporation was Borax.

No wonder it has been called ``white gold.'' Borax is used in the production of glass, paints, starch, adhesives, and detergents. It is also used in reducing rust, dyeing, printing, softening water, welding, insulating, and as a bleach. In the last years of the 19th century and this century, Death Valley was the only American source for borax. Initially, it was hauled out by the famous 20-mule teams.

If you remember Ronald Reagan introducing television's ``Death Valley Days'' in the 1950s, don't admit it. But it was largely that series which made Borax, 20-mule teams, and Death Valley itself mythic in the eyes of the postwar generation. Perhaps out of all proportion: The teams hauled for less than a decade.

Transportation has improved. Besides California Route 190, there are at least a dozen roadways, from paved to primitive, that lead into Death Valley. Information on the area and activities there is avaiable at the Park Headquaters in Furnace Creek. Also there is a museum with exhibits on early Indian cultures and explanations for the summer's torrid heat.

Lodging within Death Valley has also improved over the last hundred years. Many motels lie just outside the park, and there are four hostelries within its boundaries. The Panamint Springs Resort, on the western edge of Death Valley, is family owned and run. Its rooms, described as rustic, are under $100 a night.

The other three locations, Stovepipe Wells Village, Furnace Creek Inn, and Furnace Creek Ranch, feature sports facilities, pools, restaurants, and lounges. Furnace Creek Inn, originally built in the 1920s by the Pacific Coast Borax Company to hedge mining losses, is an elegant, missionary-style resort with sweeping views of the Valley. Suites can top $300.

By far the largest establishment in Death Valley is Furnace Creek Ranch. There is a golf course here -- not the Devil's, but a real one. At 214 feet below sea level, the 18-hole course is the lowest in America. Here, too, is a Borax Museum with two of the original Borax wagons outside.

Formerly, summer was the off season for Death Valley. The Furnace Creek Inn and Ranch, for instance, would have a closing ceremony on Mother's Day each year, reopening in early October. International tourism has changed that. Europeans, perhaps less wary than Americans of what heat can mean in the Southwest, represent 90 percent of the summer guests. Americans who are searching for winter variety, are 90 percent of the trade the rest of the year.

For lodging, call or write to:

Stovepipe Wells Village, Stovepipe Wells, CA 92328; telephone 760-786-2387.

Furnace Creek Inn and Furnace Creek Ranch, Death Valley, CA 92328; telephone 800-236-7916 or 760-786-2361.

Panamint Springs Resort, Box 395 Ridgecrest, CA 93520; telephone 702-482-7680.