There are over 5000 square miles to explore in Death Valley National Park. Rather than trying to cover it all, which meant getting in the car, we opted for a few hikes near our campsite in Texas Springs campground. On one of our hikes, we passed by a creosote bush.
We wondered if we would get nothing but sun since Death Valley is known for being the hottest place on earth, but the slot canyons provided welcome relief. The spring sunshine wasn’t nearly so punishing as it can be and we enjoyed many mild mornings and evenings.
Paul shows off his fashionable form of sunscreen.
Ingrid provided guidance and a helping hand.
After a scramble it’s time for a water break.
Elsa is in her element!
Scrambling up is the easy part. It’s the getting back down when things get tricky.
We returned to our campsite early to cook great food.
I always think it strange to realize we can’t choose our memories. They choose us. Perhaps the most memorable moments for me were not the majestic vistas and brilliant colors of the desert. That evening, Greta and I ran up the dunes surrounding our campsite to watch the moonrise. Greta played her guitar and sang, Moon River. The moon rose slowly, brilliantly. And I was happy with the quiet breeze, the sounds of people in their camps, and the cars coming down the long descent into the bottom of the world.
We often use the phrase “making memories”, but I don’t think that’s really accurate. Memories can’t be forcibly constructed. We can only make room for them hoping they’ll land softly upon us.