I once saw a postcard in an Eastern California gas station showcasing a photo of an impressive blue slot canyon. The earth in the photo looked barren, bleak, and chalky. The rock looked smooth as if carved by water long ago. Clearly no water remained in this place so dry and desolate, and the landscape looked distinctly like it belonged to the unique ranges within Death Valley National Park. The mysterious blue rock was known as Marble Canyon, and I decided the weekend after I had bought a new camera that I’d try to capture the same photograph I had haunting my memory.

With some exploring, Death Valley can offer a unique blend of contrasting environments and hues to go along with its namesake heat.

Into Death Valley

It was March in Death Valley and an incredible heat wave was hanging over the area. Driving the dusty sand road out of Stovepipe Wells, the breeze was blowing 105 degrees across the expansive desert and through the open windows of the truck. This place is more appropriate to hike in winter, but spring and fall can also be managed. In summer here, it is downright extreme. I found the weather comfortable – like being heated in a convection oven, but I did fret a little over the safety of the truck. I didn't want to break down out here.

It’s a long, rough drive deep into the seldom explored Cottonwood Mountains to get to Marble Canyon. I crossed the desert to where it meets the rocky edge of the mountain range, then boldly the road navigates a canyon crack and finds a sweeping valley in the interior of the range. The road was in surprisingly good condition compared to many four wheel drive roads in the area, most likely it could be navigated by a two wheel drive car. Four wheel drive is advised on this road, so check the current road conditions at the Stovepipe Wells ranger station before entering.

With heart pumping excitement, I found the trailhead and stepped out into the dry heat. The canyon trail, edged by steep walls, takes you immediately into the pleasantly warm shade. I carried about ten liters of water with me for the overnight excursion. I had extra in the end, but better to be safe, who knows how much water I'd find in the desert. I expected none.

The Hike Into Marble Canyon

The canyon winds deep into the catacombs of this bizarre landscape, and the rocky earth almost completely devoid of plant life showcases the wonders of geology. Every sundrenched peak and rock precipice you gaze up to around each corner is wildly striped with tantalizing patterns of sediment. I made it to the narrowest part of the canyon by midday, but found the slots had totally bad light hitting them for my photography. I decided to continue up the canyon for many miles further.

Now I was really in the outland, you never see a soul out here. Such fun hiking through a canyon, turning one mysterious corner after the next and never knowing what you will find. Some areas the canyon widens and you walk through desiccated meadows which in March were blooming with fascinating small and delicate flowers. In some areas the canyon is narrow. Some parts of the canyon are drab while other parts are quite colorful. Walking through patches of sun was alarmingly hot, and I’d make a beeline for the next shaded spot.

Climbing ledges, I slowly ascended in elevation and found a spring trickling through a white crust of deposited minerals. The yellow princess plume flower bloomed along it, an indicator of selenium rich soil, and there was no other plant life. The skeleton of a bighorn sheep rested there. Passing up on the water source due to its potentially high mineral content, I saw two rattlesnakes on the way up, hearing them at a safe distance before seeing them. Finally I climbed up a meager dribbling waterfall and through an area where green vegetation had appeared. Green vegetation gave me more confidence on the quality of this water source, though I still would need to filter it. I was then confronted by a third rattler directly in the center of the path where the canyon narrowed. He wasn’t budging, so I decided he was a good landmark to stop and turn back.

I rested under a small tree for a while, dozing off with my park map covering my face from the incessant flies landing on me. At this part of the canyon the hills had closed in around me, and now they were covered with scrub bushes and sage. The canyon bottom which I trekked through had slowly transformed into that of the high desert climate, having become choked with boulders and green plant life. It also had become much cooler, which surprised me. At this higher elevation canyon, I had actually found water unexpectedly in such a dry place. It seemed that if there was any water to be found here, it would be in a canyon. The sound is familiar, a specific sort of buzzing to break the perfect silence but not that of the flies. A hummingbird roused me from my nap, looking into my drowsy eyes as I woke up.

A Night in the Canyon

I decided to spend the night back at the blue slot canyon area, in the most dramatic part of the hike. Evening arrived and the light finally came in perfectly for my photo shoot. As it passed into night, the intimate canyon was very much like an indoor room. It was room temperature, with the air completely still. The ground and walls were hard and lifeless. It was peaceful and beautifully quiet until it had been dark for a while, then the desert came to life. Coyotes yipped with their psychotically echoing cries bouncing through the canyon as though they were just around the corner from me. Bats flew right above my head. Without warning a terrified, lost, and squawking pigeon came fluttering through!

Despite the racket, I slept well. In the morning I continued to relax as I slowly hiked out, doing some writing and some thinking. I hadn’t seen a single other person on the trip and had spent the weekend mostly in silence and reverent isolation. To be so alone seems daunting; to those unused to it, it seems scary. In fact, loneliness can be a primary fear. I find I am never lonely when I’m living close to Mother Nature. Everything you see out there is wondrously interesting and will keep you always entertained. I believe we should all to go out and deepen our connection to the natural world, because when you know nature, you’ll never be alone.

Need to Know

Information

The American desert is truly a place of freedom, still if you plan to backpack, the park requests you pick up a free backpacking permit at the ranger station. Death Valley charges admission to the national park, it is an honor system payment of $15 that must be made at the ranger’s station in Stovepipe Wells, Furnace Creek, or at the park’s eastern entrance.

Getting There

If coming from northern California, drive to Lone Pine and take highway 190 for 80 miles to Stovepipe Wells. If coming from Southern California, drive to Ridgecrest and take highway 178/ Trona-Wildrose Road for 66 miles, through the town of Trona, to the junction of highway 190. Turn right at the junction and continue 30 miles to Stovepipe Wells. If coming from Nevada or Arizona in the east, drive to Pahrump, NV. Pick up highway 190 via Bell Vista Avenue, and drive 85 miles to Stovepipe Wells. At Stovepipe Wells, take the Airport Road behind the campground, turn right at the fork by the airport onto Cottonwood Canyon Road. After 10.7 miles turn right onto Marble Canyon road, a sign will designate it saying ‘Marble.’ To continue straight on the main road will bring you to the Cottonwood Canyon Trailhead, a loop hike could potentially be navigated between Cottonwood Canyon and Marble Canyon.

Best Time to Go

Winter is ideal, if not slightly chilly with short days. Spring and fall are can be workable depending on the forecast.

Maps and Books

The National Geographic Death Valley Park map makes a fantastic souvenir and has hiking guides written in the margins, a great map to inspire ideas. The Explorers Guide to Death Valley National Park by T. Scott Bryan and Betty Tucker-Bryan is a knowledgeable guidebook full of insider information. For the western side of the park, Hiking Western Death Valley National Park is another available resource.

Editor's Note: This article originally appeared in Issue 28 of TrailGroove Magazine. You can read the original article here for additional photos and content.