You Won't Need a Furnace at Furnace Creek in Death Valley
In November 2016, on my first trip to Death Valley National Park, I started with a sundown visit to Zabriskie Point. As darkness gathered on the floor of Death Valley, I located my campsite at the Furnace Creek Campground.
The temperature felt warm, but after sunset, it no longer felt
amazingly hot. With the doors and windows open on my coach, I was able
to move indoors as the evening progressed.
The
campground itself will look familiar to anyone who has camped in a
National Park. You will recognize the layout as a series of loop-roads.
Each loop has fifteen or twenty campsites. At Furnace Creek
Campground, a recent change in management resulted in the repaving of
all its roads and refurbishment of water and restroom facilities. The
setting is ancient, yet the campground feels new again. Unobstructed
views of both the Amargosa Range and the Panamint Range add drama to
the scene.
Since the few full-hookup RV-sites were long since reserved, I settled
for two nights of dry camping in a dry desert. Luckily, the water
supply at Furnace Creek is sufficient for cooking and bathing. The
first Anglos to visit Furnace Creek in 1849 barely found sufficient water to survive until their 
rescue in 1850. By the early twentieth century,
residents and tourists at the village of Furnace Creek could enjoy
potable water piped to the town from artesian springs in the nearby
Amargosa Range. Today, groundwater withdrawal
and storage tanks support what looks like a thriving oasis, but is
actually doomed to return to its dry state at a time uncertain. With
such paltry rainfall in Death Valley, groundwater pumping is ultimately
unsustainable. Except for rare seasonal flow, what once was a true
oasis along Furnace Creek is now mostly a dry wash.
Although there is a wide range of tourist services at Furnace Creek, the
2010 U.S. Census pegged the full time population as only twenty-four
hardy souls. Admittedly, most of the public and private facilities in
Furnace Creek are air-conditioned, making life easier for heat-weary
visitors and workers. One exception to that is the Native Americans
known as the Timbisha Shoshone Tribe
. As a federally recognized tribe,
their small, private enclave adjacent to Furnace Creek appeared to be
hot, dusty and dry. What few trees and shrubs that survive the harsh
climate provide scant shade or relief from the sweeping winds. Recent
data suggest that the Timbisha tribal population in Death Valley is
around forty individuals.
During my November 2016 visit, there was not a trace of water on the
vast salt pan, including the Upper Basin, Middle Basin and Badwater,
which lays almost 280-feet below sea level. Furnace Creek, on the other
hand, is only 190-feet below sea level. This difference in elevation
means that in wet years, water will overflow the Upper Basin, pass
through the Middle Basin and form a large, shallow lake at Badwater
Basin. Salt, borax and alkali, which dries in 
the
connecting channels suggests a short-lived, landlocked stream that may
flow through Death Valley in the springtime. Upon my return in
February 2017, all three basins contained surface water. By April 2017,
almost all of the surface water had evaporated or settled into the
graben, leaving the salt flats dry and susceptible to wind erosion and vandalism.
While visiting Furnace Creek in February 2017, water seemed to be
everywhere. The dry lakes were wet. Furnace Creek flowed down its
traditional course and water fell from the sky, in the form of rain.
Upon arrival, the evidence of flood damage to roads and trails
was evident. Orange traffic cones stood guard at many small washouts
along Highway 190, leading to Furnace Creek. Nearby Artists Drive, a
one-way formerly paved road through spectacular canyon scenery remained
washed 
out.
After historic winter rains had swept that road away in many places,
workers used heavy machinery to make repairs. During our February visit,
only gentle showers passed through Furnace Creek. The showers cleared
the air, leaving the scent of moist creosote in an otherwise desolate
place.
Why was the winter of 2017 so wet in Death Valley? My personal
observations may or may not be scientifically correct, but here is my
theory. North of Furnace Creek the Panamint Range to the west and the
Amargosa Range to the east form a sort of wind tunnel. Between Tin
Mountain (8,953 ft. elev.) and Grapevine Peak (8,743 ft. elev.), a
cyclonic effect can arise. If little moisture is available, a whirlwind
or “dust devil” will rise and sweep toward Furnace Creek and Badwater
to the south. If the counter-clockwise wind is strong enough, it can 
pull moisture from the Eastern Sierra Nevada Range and feed it toward the salt flats of Death Valley.
Another contributing factor in rainfall is dust particles.
In February, I watched a tall, thin strand of wind shear traveling
along the course I already described. As it reached the Middle Basin,
it had enough strength to kick up untold amounts of dust from the
periphery of the standing water. Soon, we could see a large cloud of
dust and rain forming against the eastern slopes of the Panamint Range.
Upon our return to the campground, another shower swept from North to
South. With the minimal moisture we experienced, only the rock strewn
landscape hinted at floodwaters issuing forth from every canyon and
wash in Death Valley. The recent winter rains must have been a
dangerous, yet remarkable sight.
By
April 12, 2017, when I again visited Furnace Creek, it was hot and
dusty. Again, I dry camped, but this time it was warmer, approaching
100 °F (37.8 °C). With the wind and sand looking to sandblast my truck,
I decided to hunker down inside the trailer until the wind abated.
Using my cordless vacuum to keep up with the dust in my coach was
almost a full time job. If I had opened the door, it might have blown
off its hinges, but would surely fill my coach with even more dust.
With my afternoon spent inside a hot coach, I began to understand how
the original pioneers of 1849 must have felt. Trying to allay both wind
and dust, they had nothing more than brush lean-tos to protect them
against the onslaught.
For me, temperatures above 100 °F (37.8 °C) are uncomfortable. In the
heat of summer, many Norwegians visit Death Valley. Considering the
cool air in 
their
home country, Norwegians come to Death Valley in the summer just to
feel outdoor heat for the first time in their lives. Whether my
Norwegian story is true or not, German, Dutch other Northern Europeans
find Death Valley to their liking. No matter what time of year, it is
common to hear people speaking various European languages in and around
Death Valley National Park. Since older members of the Timbisha Shoshone Tribe still speak their native language, you might have the rare opportunity to hear that language spoken at Furnace Creek, as well.
By James McGillis at 01:20 PM | Travel | Comments (0) | Link
