Outright I am going to admit that I underestimated Death Valley. Yes, it's called Death Valley and boasts notable landmarks with equally ominous names like Devil's Golf Course, Hell's Gate, Last Chance Range, Deadman Pass, and Furnace Creek to name a few. However, I arrogantly thought that such modern conveniences like automobiles, air conditioning, groomed roads, and good maps triumphed anything nature could dole out.

With gas prices close to $4.50 as we left the Thrifty rental car parking lot in downtown San Francisco, I didn't even question our decision to wait an extra hour to receive our pre-ordered compact car as opposed to immediately taking the free Jeep upgrade. Had I just a tiny bit more foresight or perhaps done a little more research, I would have jumped at the offer of a 4-wheel drive vehicle.

The previous week it had been 120 degrees in Death Valley and the weather predictions said it was only going to be in the 80s or 90s the Saturday we were going to be there. I was totally disappointed. What's the point of going to Death Valley without really getting the Death Valley experience of 120-degree heat? Why go to the hottest place on earth when I can get 80 degree heat in my backyard? Because of our unexpected adventure, it turned out that I was so relieved we didn't have to additionally concern ourselves with the possibility of heat stroke or an overheated radiator.

I was at the helm of our plastic Fisher Price Dodge Caliber, as we turned onto the unmarked (leaving me with some doubt that it was even the right path) dirt road that leads to Racetrack-—the first sight among many that I wanted to see in Death Valley. Racetrack is a dried up lakebed scattered with rocks that range from 10 to 700 pounds. The interesting thing is that these rocks move (even the several-hundred-pound ones) and when they do they leave a trail behind them that lasts for years. The mysterious thing is that no one knows how they move. Studies have been done and theories abound, but no one has ever actually seen them move so the answer remains a mystery. However, there is one explanation seen by many scientists as most probable. You can read more about it here:

geology.com/articles/rac...g-rocks.shtml

With our "Check Engine" light on, we approached Racetrack from the southern entrance, which happened to be the unmarked, road-less-traveled way to get there [and it made all the difference -Alex]. The map left no indication that this route was any less maintained than the northern route and since it fit in along the path of our tour of Death Valley, I figured this was the way to go. However, I was grossly wrong as it turned out that this trail had no signs and many forks leading us to constantly wonder whether we were even on the right path. Not to mention, the road was a narrow path that wound along mountains and down into valleys with many deep ruts and washed-out conditions. After driving for hours, I felt a similar vibration to what you feel after pushing a lawn mower for hours, yet I couldn't' tell if it was solely from the washboard trail or my nerves that hit their crescendo after driving through two huge sandpits. That's right, if it wasn't enough that we came across a herd of cattle blocking the narrow mountain road delaying us by 20 minutes, we had to drive through two enormous sandpits housing enough sand to please an army of 5 year olds. The first one I drove through was fairly deep and long, but nothing compared to the second one, which was deep enough that, as I drove through it, sand flew up and covered the entire car leaving me with zero visibility until we made it through the pit and could turn on the wipers. If there is anything that growing up in rural Michigan taught me, it was how to drive through sand and snow and I now thank that experience to having been able to maneuver the roads through Death Valley. I was actually able to locate the sandpit on Google Maps here if you want to take a look:

maps.google.com/maps

Also, here's another perspective of this massive sandpit.

maps.google.com/maps

In the middle of the map there are two white areas. The larger one is Racetrack (you can see The Grandstand in the northwest section of it, which you can see from our photos is enormous, but looks tiny on this map) and the one to the right is the sandpit. This is where the generous offering of a Jeep from Thrifty would have come in handy and the only time I've regretted not choosing a gas guzzling vehicle.

Speaking of gas...this happened to be another concern. What if we ran out of gas wandering along these roads? Not only did I have to worry about potentially breaking down or getting stuck, but since the drive took far longer than I had anticipated the thought of using every last drop of gas in our tank before reaching any destination crossed my mind. All of this lead to a very stressful drive to Racetrack. At one point when I wanted to cry, I remember Alex telling me "Well, we're in this situation now so we might as well enjoy the adventure! There's not much more we can do."

You know, it wasn't just the thought of getting stranded or dying that freaked me out, but I really didn't want to become an example. As we exited the north entrance to Racetrack, I picked up a pamphlet at the deserted ranger station and in this pamphlet there was a "How Could this Death Have Been Prevented?" piece. Can you imagine dying in Death Valley--how sadly ironic and morbidly embarrassing. You not only have to die, but you also become an example of what not to do. This exacerbated my fear as we were lost roaming through ragged mountain roads. It would be almost as mortifying as receiving a Darwin award.

In retrospect everything was worth it (party because we made it safely home), because being on the playa of Racetrack was absolutely breathtaking. Even after studying numerous photos the weeks leading up to our visit, none of them compare to actually experiencing it. And the element of being so remote, so far from civilization made it that much more impressive.

I can't end without mentioning that the finale of our Death Valley trip culminated in realizing that we had a flat tire and I was so glad that we didn't know about the flat until after we had safely made it to Ridgecrest because I think that would have been fried my very last nerve keeping me sane. The final three and a half hours of our trip were spent going 55 mph on the small donut found in the trunk of our car. As we approached LA, I couldn't help but start laughing hysterically—cars were driving past us 80, 90 mph while we couldn't go more than 55 in our tin can, donut for a wheel car.

I learned that Death Valley is not to be messed with--and if you must grace yourself upon its natural beauty, I suggest coming prepared....or just stay on paved roads and visit only when it's not excessively hot. I will certainly be back!

Also, more photos from our trip can be found on my flickr page here: www.flickr.com/photos/fru...5490036523/