Around the time I moved out West I clipped
this article about the Saline Valley Warm Springs situated in Death Valley. Intrigued by the soaking pools pictured with palm trees in the middle of the desert, my companion and I made the trip from San Francisco, driving first through the fall yellows of Yosemite on Tioga Pass and then South on 395 between the Sierras and the Inyo Mountains.
The town of Lone Pine was a scenic stop for supplies with views of Mt. Whitney from the old western main street. At 14,497 feet, the summit is the highest point in the contiguous United States. As anticipated, the road to the Saline Valley was rough and fully required the all-wheel drive car we had. Old abandoned mines appeared among the ancient bristlecone pines, before the road opened to the vast landscape of Death Valley National Park.
Just before sundown we arrived at the Saline Valley Warm Springs marked by a small red rock, then a tire, then finally the bat sign. We set up camp near the Lower Springs where a firepit and friendly neighbors were already waiting.
Soaking in the Crystal Pool that evening and feeling the warm desert breeze, we settled in to vacation mode. Two visitors used black lights to spot scorpions in the bushes, since they happen to glow florescent yellow under the light. So much for blissful ignorance regarding the desert wildlife.
Waking from a night of wind and the shuffle of stirring burroughs, we enjoyed fresh coffee and turkey bacon. Then into the Crystal Pool for a gloriously unhurried soak. The Saline Valley hugs visitors with big open arms. In general, the campers on these grounds are generous lovers of life. The people represent an optimistic and refreshing slice of society. As we soaked, the bearded man at the sink declared "I'm doing dishes, anybody got some?"
As if palm trees and hot springs in the desert weren't outrageous enough, a man in the tub directed us to a canyon where moss and ferns grow and waterfalls trickle. The road to the short canyon trail was marked by a single wooden plank, said to be an airplane wing. Sure enough, after about a half mile of hiking, green growth wrapped around the canyon walls and water fell. There we were in the Death Valley, where the ferns and waterfalls are lush.
On the drive back to camp, a rain storm cast dark clouds over the hot springs and then the sun created a huge arching rainbow. My partner, who had been dutifully watching and avoiding each rock on the road looked at the rainbow for barely a second and, like pushing a lawnmower over a brick, our car hit a big rock. With the steering wheel now turned sideways as the car drove straight, a trip to the auto shop was added to the itinerary.
Our neighbor, whose liscence plate read "Hot Soak", offered to show us the springs five miles up the hill - the ones left in their natural surroundings. Wearing nothing but his beaded necklace, he drove us in his truck to a small pool with a wide open view of the mountains. Someone had taken him here when he first visited so he was passing on the delightful experience. If you don't like to talk to strangers and be friendly, Saline Valley Warm Springs is probably not the place for you. A couple from San Francisco joined us at our campfire that evening bearing gingery Swiss cookies. Then a quiet evening soak.
The morning clouds (pictured above) indicated that we needed to depart asap, before the storms washed out the roads. Immediately we found ourselves packing and talking with Lizard Lee, the year-round keeper of the place, for his confirmation that it would be best to beat the storm.
So Bishop, a town of 3,500 is home to Mr. K's auto shop. We dropped the car off for some TLC and enjoyed the situation of having nothing to do and no car to go anywhere else.
Bishop has a walkable main street with lots of outdoor stores, a cinema, some restaurants and photo galleries. The Thunderbird Motel is at the heart of it all. Date night in Bishop included a rib dinner at BBQ Bills and then the movie
Secretariat at the cinema. The next lazy morning started with coffee at the Looney Bean and a stroll to the cheeky sign store, Inyo Arts Council, Raymond's Sandwiches and the Mountain Light Gallery dedicated to the incredible nature photography of Galen and Barbara Rowell.
With the vehicle back in action, we drove to the Keough's Hot Springs in Owens Valley, a gorgeous mountain nook. Then from 395 Mono Lake's tufas beckoned and we hiked to the waters edge. Tufas are the sandcastle-like formations poking from the lake, creating a strange sci-fi landscape. The ancient lake also has two large volcanic islands, Pahoa and Negit.
Past the small town of Lee Vining, our final stop was the Bodie State Historic Park and ghost town. Bodie carries a reputation as the wildest gold mining town from the 1880's. Wandering the quiet streets late in the day, we peered in the windows, and entered some of the structures, including a Methodist Church with an organ intact.
After root beer floats and dinner at the Nicely Restaurant in Lee Vining, we were on our way home, heartened by the stunning beauty of nature, the goodwill of people and the wonder of an abandoned city.
Home sweet home means Pittsburgh city lights, Steeler gear and the pink bedroom in my house from childhood. Between the cookie exchanges, Christmas brunch and cooking the "enchanted broccoli forest" at my grandma's, I still managed to enjoy some gems of the city visiting the Carnegie Museum, watching a Steeler game in Shadyside, seeing Pittsburgh Ballet Theater's Nutcracker at the majestic Benedum Center, munching snacks at the Renaissance Hotel, catching a Heinz History Center exhibit and of course, driving the Wexford flats.
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