We were too chicken to start a fire at our illicit campsite but the nearly full moon lit up the hill top and surrounding paradise after a sunset ran its predictable course. Could have been Woody and Leadbelly, Flatt and Scruggs - but it was Billy Bob and Cletis connecting on a new level. After a brief lesson in music theory Cletis nodded off and Billy Bob wandered the hill in search of noctural wildlife.
The next day was warm finally - so far it had been freezing cold and rain
in Washington, Oregon - then just cold in Idaho - Nevada a balmy 72.
Finally we had blistering heat.
The narrow, deserted 2-lane road into Death Valley from the north-west is as good as it gets for blacktop. Barren splendor at its best - not the pretty kind you see in the badlands National Parks. A variety of planetscapes got the boys excited enough to bump happy hour up 8 hours.
The sight of Death Valley off in the distance was stunning - turned out to be Panamint Valley, a low-fly test range for the China Lake Navel Air Weapons Station.
This was Billy Bobs 2nd time in Death Valley - the first on the ill-fated Tour De Mickeys years before in an '82 Toyota in August with the heater on full-blast to keep a 4-cylinder engine running at 114 degrees. On the way thru Vegas and beyond.
Admiring the nothingness of it all this time we cruised through stopping only
to generate some severe roadside erosion.
Getting into Death Valley is a no-brainer - getting out is the problem. The long climb to the surrounding mountains from the below sea-level desert has finished many a mule and radiator alike.