Day 23 - (6/18): Miles traveled: ~ 400

Location: various (hot!) sites, ending at Valley of Fire, NV, near Las Vegas/Death Valley

Science: various air quality measurements

As mentioned, I did an early morning trip to the Goblins before heading out for the day -- here are some of the early morning goblins themselves -- 

After a proper good-bye to the Goblins, I set off for more desert and more heat (but, I reasoned, how hot could it get, really?). In fact, this day was me going from the hot frying pan of Valley of the Goblins to the literal Fire of the NV desert. On this leg of the journey I watched the outside temperatures oscillate from 90 (in the mountains) to 122 (in a gas station parking lot and the Valley of Fire). A call with Bree, the friend I was planning to camp with in Joshua Tree National Park the next day, clarified the situation -- I heard the term "Heat Dome" for the first time and realized that it wasn't just that I am a total self-declared desert wimp, but that it was really really hot out here and that camping without AC was possibly not even safe. 

I resolved to camp for one more night, but then Bree and I would stay in 29 Palms, CA the next day at a random last-minute airbnb with a pool to cool off. 

First road stop: random turnoff in the desert somewhere -- I think in AZ?

Next stop: made air quality measurements in a gas station parking lot in NV (Desert Palms maybe?) while fixing my trailer fender. Somewhere on the highway coming out of the Arizona mountains someone clipped my fender, smashing it and almost ripping it completely off the trailer. I had to detach the fender, bang it out with a sledge hammer, and reattach. In 122 deg F heat. It was brutal and the tools burned my hands. But I did it and continued on.

The Valley of Fire State Park was seeringly hot (go figure) but also a wonderful combination of striking geological features (red rocks knifing through the earth and rising into the unflinching hot blue of the sky, 

powdery dried out water ruts,

 entrepreneurial lichen of all colors highlighting red rock cracks and fissures).

For some reason this all just felt RIGHT, and as I set up camp the sun even shifted to put me in shade!

Let me tell you why this place feeling right was strange -- if you know me, you know I love WATER. I love the green that comes along with water. Deserts make me feel disoriented and empty usually -- I mean, I appreciate the landscape and the audacity of the wildlife/peoples who make a life in these places, but I am also very happy to get the heck out of there after proper appreciation. I am usually looking for any excuse to find a waterway to sit by (or in, if it's hot enough) when I am in desert areas -- it's just where I feel most comfortable. But this particular night, this particular 120 deg F night, I somehow felt almost at home. 

I think this feeling really solidified with a quick hike to the petroglyphs, which served as both map and guidebook/orientation to the land I was camping in (for instance, I did not know longhorn sheep were to be expected here, until I saw the petroglyphs depicting them). You can learn more about these incredible inscriptions (some of them ~4,000 years old) here: https://lasvegasareatrails.com/petroglyphs-in-valley-of-fire-state-park-nevada/

Next, hiking back to the campsite, I saw my first unbelievably long-eared jack rabbits, 

and when I arrived at the campsite I discovered that my leaky water faucet had attracted a huge male longhorn.

We stared at each other for awhile, long enough for me to admire its impressive horns (for some reason star trek characters came to mind when I saw the texture and setting of the horns on this gorgeous animal's head) and for him to see that I was no threat, or at least less of a threat than having no water in this heat might be. He stayed for a bit until one of my empty water bottles clanked over and spooked him.

That night I did not really sleep. I thought for sure it would cool down some, and it did -- from 120 with the sun, to 110 without......everything I touched was hotter than I was -- including the walls of my trailer, my pillow, my sheets........not conducive to sleep, dry heat or no. 

At 5 AM I woke from a doze to the sound of rushing water and for a minute thought I was back in CO with the mountain stream flowing cheerily by. When I remembered where I was, I jumped out of the trailer into a stream of water running under the trailer and onto the campground road. My long-horn sheep friend was standing about 10 feet away with his entire herd behind him, looking at me -- and then I noticed the leaky faucet had blown its fixture completely off and was now a small desert geyser. 

Folks I have subsequently reported this event to have suggested that my longhorn friend had nudged the faucet head off of the spigot for his herd. I don't know, but I couldn't help but notice that it wasn't just helping his herd -- there were many jackrabbits and birds sipping at the minor flood as well. I am sorry I have no pictures of this -- amazingly, this extreme desert spot provided just as many wildlife sightings (if not more) than any of the other campsites I had been to previously -- second only to Manatee Springs in Florida. 

I did try to put the faucet head back onto the water pipe, and must have looked hilarious (or like an idiot, depending on perspective) as I got blinded with spray and only succeeded in watering a larger area of desert around me. I felt a bit like I was back in Brooklyn on a hot summer day when someone has quite rationally knocked a fire hydrant valve open. I giggled (truly, ask the longhorns!) noting that the water felt good in the heat and that this must be a universal sensation. So I gave up on stemming the flow and packed up my things, resolving to find someone to report the spigot failure to, but not too quickly. 

Well, of course it was still too early in the morning once I pulled out, and nary a ranger could be found. I then decided to write an email to the park general mailbox about the leak using my phone, and hiked up to the petroglyphs again to get cell reception. The view was great as the sun rose behind the mountains.

I got a thank you email from the Valley of Fire Rangers an hour later, when I was on the road speeding toward California to see Bree and retreat from the desert fire in our random 29 Palms airbnb-with-pool.