camping fun
Door: Annette
Blijf op de hoogte en volg Annette
03 December 2016 | Verenigde Staten, Furnace Creek
As we pull out of our campingspot/hideaway/slot canyon we make sure there are no cars around, which is easy because we can see them coming from kilometers away at both sides due to an amazing wide view over the badwater basin floor (the lowest point in the Americas, -82m). We had a peaceful afternoon and evening the day before, in which we did some yoga, explored the canyon, enjoyed the sunset and prepared food looking at the milky way. It’s now time to start going again. We drag the bike and bob trailer over the rocks through the wash that exits the canyon to the road. We don’t know if we ware allowed to camp there, but what else can we do, Death Valley is gigantic and we are not able to make it to the campgrounds in a day. Therefore, we figured, it is allowed as long as nobody can see us.
A little further down the road I see a slot canyon that screams for exploration. Leigh, however, can’t hear the screams. He is more in favor of keep-on-biking and he has a good point. There is no wind and yesterday the wind picked up later in the morning, after which it was a tough biking day. After some negotiations, I can convince him to give me a little bit of time for quick look in the canyon, in exchange for my share of the early morning snacks.
As I head for the canyon, a car pulls over. Slightly worried that someone discovered our camping spot, I wait around to see what happens. I see Leigh pointing at me, and the car makes its way over. The head of an Indian family rolls down the window. “Is this the road to Vegas?” he asks. Though it seems like a simple question, my brain does not immediately come up with an answer. Even though we’re 5 biking days away from Las Vegas, I’d say, similar to our Dutch saying that all roads lead to Rome, all roads here definitely lead to Vagas, it's just a matter of taking the right turns. But, in that perspective, this road also leads to Los Angeles, New York and even Charlottetown, though I’d argue that you'd have to be a pretty special navigator if you accidentally make it there instead of Las Vegas.
I peek over to the woman next to the driver, who I observe is using a paper map! Great, it’s rare to see that these days. Looking on maps, asking for directions… Just like in the old days before gps. Rianne and I used to always take maps on our biking trips and we seldom got lost, but I must admit, in areas with a large street density, it is very handy to have Leigh on the back looking at his gps and figuring out where we are and how to get the blue dot (us) to the yellow star (destination) as we’re moving along. I still like to have a paper map to look at for general awareness and potential electronics failure, though the solar panel loads the phone even on cloudy days.
Anyway, it’s time to say something back, so I say “yes, this is the road to Vegas.” “Do I just follow the road?” the lady asks me. Yes, I say, hoping that she’s smart enough to figure out that there will be turns and that she has to pick the right directions.
A couple of days later we find ourselves at a campground at death valley. The campground is great, it’s not very expensive, we have wifi, and there are showers, a swimming pool, and even a shuffle-board setup (something I’ve never seen before but people on this side of the ocean seem to be familiar with it, it’s some kind of dry curling, but then without having to bend over, instead you’re using a pole to push). I feel a bit bad about taking a swim in such a dry place (humidity can be 5% in the summer and it gets 2 inches of rain), but the pool water is used to water the golf course, and there is nothing I can do about the ridiculousness of having that. There are road runners and coyotes walking around, which is fun to watch, and date trees all over.
We get assigned spot 8, and set up camp. We go check out the pool for a very needed clean-up session. As we’re getting back, there is a large rv parked right next to us. Which seems kind of odd, since there are only 4 other occupants, but oh well. However, as we want to go to sleep, the generator starts working, and it sounds very much like a diesel engine. We think about encountering this attack on our ears with earplugs, but in addition, there is a huge exhaust cloud building up and the pipe is directed right at us. Since we enjoy breathing, we head back to the office (about an 800 m walk one way) and ask to be 2 places over. They agree, so we get a new paper to hang on a clip, new internet passwords and off we go. The night goes well, it’s windy, but the next morning we wake up with sore throats feeling like we are in the middle of Hanoi, and realize that without wind, the cloud of gas coming from the exhaust makes it all the way to our tent. So, we head over to ask for a new spot. We are currently in 10, the guy puts us in 20 (new passwords, new paper). So, as we move, we realize that 20 is in the full sun, which is bad for the fly, our food supplies, and us. We don’t really want to go back there, but oh well. We ask for number 13 this time, hoping that the rv in spot 12 will protect us from the exhaust and the Frenchies in 15 and 16 are not as loud at night as they seem. The guy at the front desk gets slightly annoyed, but I can convince him to make us move (and give another password and paper). I walk back (it has been quite the workout all this walking on a rest day) and see the campground patrol nearing our site 10. I hear him talk to the exhaust people, and hear that they are in the wrong spot, and leaving today. Leigh has already taken out the tent pegs and moved some stuff, but with the exhaust guy gone, it seems a lot less work to stay where we are. We decide to ask the campground patrol if we can stay. Though, I explain to him that I’m a little worried that the front desk guy will get into a stroke if he sees me again. He says he’ll confirm for me and if we just don’t hang up the paper for site 13 and keep the one for 10, it should be ok. We put the tent pegs back. Leigh mentions that it might be nicer to move to 22 so we have at least some sun, but I think he’s just teasing me. Finally we decide to not move anymore and stay another night. Just as we are about to fall asleep, an rv rolls in number 8. We look at each other, and yes, it happens. The generator goes on. We miss camping in the wilderness.
A little further down the road I see a slot canyon that screams for exploration. Leigh, however, can’t hear the screams. He is more in favor of keep-on-biking and he has a good point. There is no wind and yesterday the wind picked up later in the morning, after which it was a tough biking day. After some negotiations, I can convince him to give me a little bit of time for quick look in the canyon, in exchange for my share of the early morning snacks.
As I head for the canyon, a car pulls over. Slightly worried that someone discovered our camping spot, I wait around to see what happens. I see Leigh pointing at me, and the car makes its way over. The head of an Indian family rolls down the window. “Is this the road to Vegas?” he asks. Though it seems like a simple question, my brain does not immediately come up with an answer. Even though we’re 5 biking days away from Las Vegas, I’d say, similar to our Dutch saying that all roads lead to Rome, all roads here definitely lead to Vagas, it's just a matter of taking the right turns. But, in that perspective, this road also leads to Los Angeles, New York and even Charlottetown, though I’d argue that you'd have to be a pretty special navigator if you accidentally make it there instead of Las Vegas.
I peek over to the woman next to the driver, who I observe is using a paper map! Great, it’s rare to see that these days. Looking on maps, asking for directions… Just like in the old days before gps. Rianne and I used to always take maps on our biking trips and we seldom got lost, but I must admit, in areas with a large street density, it is very handy to have Leigh on the back looking at his gps and figuring out where we are and how to get the blue dot (us) to the yellow star (destination) as we’re moving along. I still like to have a paper map to look at for general awareness and potential electronics failure, though the solar panel loads the phone even on cloudy days.
Anyway, it’s time to say something back, so I say “yes, this is the road to Vegas.” “Do I just follow the road?” the lady asks me. Yes, I say, hoping that she’s smart enough to figure out that there will be turns and that she has to pick the right directions.
A couple of days later we find ourselves at a campground at death valley. The campground is great, it’s not very expensive, we have wifi, and there are showers, a swimming pool, and even a shuffle-board setup (something I’ve never seen before but people on this side of the ocean seem to be familiar with it, it’s some kind of dry curling, but then without having to bend over, instead you’re using a pole to push). I feel a bit bad about taking a swim in such a dry place (humidity can be 5% in the summer and it gets 2 inches of rain), but the pool water is used to water the golf course, and there is nothing I can do about the ridiculousness of having that. There are road runners and coyotes walking around, which is fun to watch, and date trees all over.
We get assigned spot 8, and set up camp. We go check out the pool for a very needed clean-up session. As we’re getting back, there is a large rv parked right next to us. Which seems kind of odd, since there are only 4 other occupants, but oh well. However, as we want to go to sleep, the generator starts working, and it sounds very much like a diesel engine. We think about encountering this attack on our ears with earplugs, but in addition, there is a huge exhaust cloud building up and the pipe is directed right at us. Since we enjoy breathing, we head back to the office (about an 800 m walk one way) and ask to be 2 places over. They agree, so we get a new paper to hang on a clip, new internet passwords and off we go. The night goes well, it’s windy, but the next morning we wake up with sore throats feeling like we are in the middle of Hanoi, and realize that without wind, the cloud of gas coming from the exhaust makes it all the way to our tent. So, we head over to ask for a new spot. We are currently in 10, the guy puts us in 20 (new passwords, new paper). So, as we move, we realize that 20 is in the full sun, which is bad for the fly, our food supplies, and us. We don’t really want to go back there, but oh well. We ask for number 13 this time, hoping that the rv in spot 12 will protect us from the exhaust and the Frenchies in 15 and 16 are not as loud at night as they seem. The guy at the front desk gets slightly annoyed, but I can convince him to make us move (and give another password and paper). I walk back (it has been quite the workout all this walking on a rest day) and see the campground patrol nearing our site 10. I hear him talk to the exhaust people, and hear that they are in the wrong spot, and leaving today. Leigh has already taken out the tent pegs and moved some stuff, but with the exhaust guy gone, it seems a lot less work to stay where we are. We decide to ask the campground patrol if we can stay. Though, I explain to him that I’m a little worried that the front desk guy will get into a stroke if he sees me again. He says he’ll confirm for me and if we just don’t hang up the paper for site 13 and keep the one for 10, it should be ok. We put the tent pegs back. Leigh mentions that it might be nicer to move to 22 so we have at least some sun, but I think he’s just teasing me. Finally we decide to not move anymore and stay another night. Just as we are about to fall asleep, an rv rolls in number 8. We look at each other, and yes, it happens. The generator goes on. We miss camping in the wilderness.
Reageer op dit reisverslag
Je kunt nu ook Smileys gebruiken. Via de toolbar, toetsenbord of door eerst : te typen en dan een woord bijvoorbeeld :smiley
