Free hotel room, just roll the dice

Only in Nevada! In a state best known for gambling, a billboard like this one for a hotel in Tonopah comes as no surprise. I didn't roll the dice because as an RVer I carry my room with me, but if you are passing through town and need a place to stay, you might want to try your luck. Although there are at least a half dozen hotels (more like motels) in Tonopah, this is among the best, and there's a reasonably priced RV park in the back with full hookups.

Lonely store in a lonely town

Mina, Nevada, along U.S. 95, is a few dozen homes, a few businesses, a tiny post office and one or two gas stations. I stopped at one station, not for gas but for an ice cream, which was advertised on the front door. The clerk was smoking a cigarette and playing one of the three slot machines in the musty, dark place, where half the shelves were bare. The area behind the counter was a hodgepodge of trashy looking odds and ends. The ice cream was in a regular refrigerator. I opted for what I thought was an Eskimo Pie, but it was chocolate inside, which was acceptable. I wondered how long it had been in that fridge, but I didn't ponder that thought too long. "It's frozen, so it's okay," I figured. But I concluded that I would probably not buy any bread due to the potential staleness factor. As I paid for my ice cream bar I asked the clerk if she really did sell gasoline. As you can tell by the weathered sign, that would be a logical question. "Oh, yes, she said, but we're out right now."

As I left the store into the chilly but sunny day, the clerk walked back to her slot machine, dropped in a coin and puffed her cigarette.

Alone in the desert, but not really

It's a little frustrating to head off into the middle of the desert with the intent of getting away from civilization, and then realizing you can't do it. No matter where you go, if you look above you will see evidence of mankind. Even along the most remote backroad, they will be there -- slivers of ice marking the path of an aircraft high above. In southern Nevada you will often see six or more at a time -- looking like comets as they streak silently across the sky.

Sometimes when I am in a very remote place in the desert, I will pull off the road, turn off my RV's engine and walk into the vast expanse of dirt and cactus. Being from the Northwest, where one's footsteps are marked by the sloshing of shoes, it's always a thrill to hear their "crunch, crunch" in the desert. On these walks, I will often come to a point where I will pause to enjoy my solitude. But if I should look above, they will be there -- airliners speeding across the heavens. As I look skyward I know that at least a few passengers are pressing their noses to the window, looking over the vast "nothing" below. They don't see any evidence of me because I am 100 times smaller than an ant. But I see them. Sometimes I wish they would just go away.

No evidence of civilization

I camped last night in the isolated Mesquite Campground in Death Valley National Park. It's five miles from Scotty's Castle at about 2,500 feet in the lonely northern corner of the park. You can see my campsite in the photo. Last night before I went to bed, I stepped outside to see the stars. The nearest town is 50 miles away and it's tiny. So there was no artificial light to interfere with Mother Nature. Above me were a million stars. The Milky Way actually looked milky, like a high thin cloud. There were four other RVs scattered in the campground, but, like mine, they were dark. So on this night, all I could see were stars with the exception of a few distant planes, their strobe lights blinking like pin-point-sized flash bulbs.

As my eyesight adjusted to the darkness, more stars appeared. The only sound was the wind. It was magnificent!

A lonely road helps me think

This is a scene from highway 267 leaving Death Valley (via Scotty's Castle), heading east toward U.S. 95 in Nevada, a major two-lane route from Reno to Las Vegas. For most of highway 267, this is what the road looks like. I don't think there is a single residence along the 27 miles from Scotty's Castle to U.S. 95. There's at least one ghost town, which you can see in the picture. Otherwise, it's nothing but road and wide open spaces including a couple of huge dry lakebeds you can drive on for a smoother ride than any freeway. I once hit a golf ball on one of these lakebeds and after landing it bounced forever. I never found it.

In the 45 minutes it took me to drive this road, only two or three vehicles passed from the other direction. When I wanted to take a picture, I could just stop in the middle of the road and snap away. Actually, I did that a few times. You can almost always see another vehicle approaching for miles so it is next to impossible to get hit. I like roads like this because I can get a lot of thinking done.

A self-portrait at Death Valley

I get letters pretty often from readers who wonder why I never publish my photo. "What do you look like?" they ask. I tell them to think of me as tall, dark and handsome. That's what I am, of course, but then maybe that's a lie. Anyway, as I was walking through the Mesquite Campground at Death Valley early yesterday morning, I decided it was time to take a self-portrait. So here it is. One thing you probably did not know about me is that I have very long legs.

And speaking of "tall, dark and handsome," do you know where that term came from? It was based on movie idol Rudoph Valentino back in the 1920s. But the actor wasn't tall at all, just average. Strange.

Coyote begs at Death Valley

This coyote was waiting for a handout from tourists at the entrance to Scotty's Castle in Death Valley. I snapped this picture but did not feed him. The last time I was here was five years ago and a coyote was begging then, but down the road at the Mesquite Campground. Some misguided park visitors feed these animals. They don't know if a wild animal becomes dependent on people food it can forget how to find food on its own -- not good for survival.

A reminder how fast our transportation has changed

This is a stagecoach that served as public transportation in the Death Valley vicinity from 1890 to 1910. In case you are math-challenged, that's about 100 years ago. You can see this weathered stage and other antique vehicles in the museum at Death Valley.

Isn't it amazing how far our mode of transport has evolved in such a short time? Can you imagine riding aboard this over dirt roads in 100 degree heat? No fun!

By the way, have you heard the term "riding shotgun?" The expression was suggested by the armed guard with a shotgun who often rode beside the driver on stagecoaches like this one in the old American West.

Death Valley palm trees under construction?

If you walk through the Furnace Creek Ranch oasis in Death Valley you cannot miss the many date palm trees that are propped up with wooden supports. No, the trees are not sick. More than 130 of them have simply been relocated to make room for a one-megawatt solar photovoltaic (PV) system that will soon generate enough energy to power one third of the park concessionaire's needs -- about the same as what 400 average-sized homes would use. And it's appropriate that the facility is located in Death Valley, the sunniest place in the USA. When it goes online this spring, it will be the largest privately owned solar system in the country.

Over the next 30 years, the system will eliminate the emission of more than 284,000 tons of carbon dioxide, nitrogen oxide and sulfur dioxide -- primary contributors to global warming, smog and acid rain. This is equal to planting more than 54,000 trees and removing more than 3,700 cars from California's highways. The system requires virtually no maintenance and will even withstand a direct hit from a golf ball from the Furnace Creek Golf Course -- easy hacker striking distance.

Oh, yes. . . the wooden palm tree supports will be removed once the trees' roots take hold.

Amazing nature trivia from Death Valley

Here are a few things I have learned since being in Death Valley National Park.

Badwater, at 282 feet below sea level, is the lowest spot in the Western Hemisphere (see the pic). Last night I was there at dusk, and alone, making me the lowest human in the Western Hemisphere. I felt very special.

Mesquite trees grow throughout Death Valley. But did you know that to find water they can extend their roots 60 feet into the earth? True!

Pelicans sometimes winter in Death Valley in a desert oasis. So if you see one, you are not hallucinating from sun stroke. And speaking of sun, back on July 10, 1913, the temperature hit 134 degrees-- a world record high temperature for years. I was here once when the temperature was 122 degrees! Going from air conditioning to the outside was like walking into a wall of heat.

Packrats are found in Death Valley. You can see a stuffed one in the picture.

Kangaroo rats are plentiful. They do not look like kangaroos, but like mice. The amazing thing about a kangaroo rat is that it needs no drinking water to survive -- not even moist food. The rats manufacturer all the water they need from even the driest seeds. It's unlikely you'll see a kangaroo rat because they are nocturnal.

The golf course at Furnace Creek is more than 200 feet below sea level, making it the world's lowest grass course. In the summer, coyotes sometimes rest on the cool greens. So be careful you don't bonk one. When you camp at Furnace Creek, you will often hear coyotes howling in the night. And a tip: make sure you never tie up your pet outside your RV: the coyotes like to dine on poodles and other assorted animals. Park rangers keep a count of the number of coyote pet meals.

The Furnace Creek oasis, where I am now, produces one million gallons of fresh spring water every day. Imagine that! For miles around, Death Valley is dry desert. But in the village, palm trees are everywhere and a little stream passes right through.

And speaking of water, did you know that fish live in Death Valley? But don't bring your fishing pole, because they are itty bitty fellows - barely longer than an inch. But, boy, are they hearty! The desert Pupfish can live in water three times saltier than in the ocean, and in temperatures more than 100 degrees!

I hope you enjoyed these facts and figures.

Gas, cell phones and WiFi in Death Valley

In my continuing quest to find warm weather, I am now in the Furnace Creek oasis in Death Valley, California. The good news is that it is sorta warm here -- about 60 degrees. The bad news is that it is really, really windy -- more than 50 mile per hour gusts yesterday. Last night, half asleep, I feared my little wheeled house would blow away to Kansas.

Here are a few news items. Gas prices, as always, are higher (both at Furnace Creek and Stovepipe Wells) than elsewhere in the state due to the remoteness of the area. Diesel is available at Furnace Creek.

Cell phones do not work. My Verizon service and a neighbor's T-Mobile are out of range as well. The good news about that is that you can walk around without having to listen to people gab on their phones. When dining in the two restaurants in the Furnace Creek oasis, you can do so in peace without phones ringing and being subjected to boring conversations.

Yesterday afternoon, the Corkscrew Saloon was packed for the Superbowl. Eighty percent of the crowd was for New York: I think they were rooting for the underdog.

Some really good news for Web Geeks Like Me is that free WiFi is now available in the village and even across the street in the Sunset Campground (huge parking lot for RVs only). If you have a computer with you and want to increase your odds of accessing the Web from your coach, get a site close to the general store. Otherwise, you can take your computer into the village and get online there. There is also free WiFi at the park visitor center, but I am told it is not as strong a signal.

Tortilla Chip offers Golden State welcome

This is a true story. Just before entering California, I stocked up on groceries in Brookings, Oregon. Among the groceries was a bag of tortilla chips. Later that afternoon, shortly after crossing into California, I pulled to the side of the highway for a snack. I opted for tortilla chips and salsa. And what happened next is truly amazing! After opening the bag of chips, the first one I grabbed was almost the exact same shape as the state of California. Again, I am not kidding! And, no it was not a special bag of "California" chips, but regular ol' chips. I did not alter the chip at all. I fact, I saved it to show others. I think this must be an omen. I don't know what kind of omen, but I feel pretty strongly that it's an omen.

Cats, Horses and Chickens

I am parked by the Orange Works in Strathmore, Calif., along state route 65 in the San Joaquin Valley. The Orange Works is a roadside business that sells locally grown goods, especially plenty of tasty items made from oranges, which are grown by the millions in these parts. As I was paying, the clerk's cell phone rang. It sounded like a kitten. "I tried music, but I couldn't hear it," she said. I told her that I had never heard a cell phone ring that sounded like a kitten. "My daughter's phone ring is a horse," she said to prove that she was not alone in her choice of unusual ring sounds. And then she said, "last night I was at a basketball game and a guy's phone rang and it was a chicken." She gave me my change and then I had to leave, which was too bad because I wanted to hear more about other animal-related rings.