How I spent my summer vacation in Saline Valley

There is an amusing tale to be told here, which would aptly be named “how I spent my summer vacation in Saline Valley.” I am currently reading the classic western of Lonesome Dove. This is an encore endeavor for me. My first time reading Larry McMurtry’s novel was during the summer months in Saline Valley long ago. (Saline Valley is now part of Death Valley National Park, for those unfamiliar with the location).

A little history

A bit of a recap of history along the way. (My habit of making a short story long). As detailed in an earlier blog of the Saline Valley Chronicles, I first found my way into Saline Valley in the spring of 1980. I had no idea there were warm springs in the valley. I was rock hounding. (Got Rocks? Saline Valley rocks!). Ironically, I was in the middle of a six-month road trip that found me traveling between various destination hot springs through the west, but Saline Valley Warm Springs was not on the radar, as it was still largely a secret way back when. Entering this deserted desert valley I thought I must be the only soul in the valley. Happily I stumbled across a collection of other colorful souls and put off my valley rock hounding for several years. I spent two weeks at the lower camp before heading out for Furnace Creek in the heart of Death Valley. It was Easter weekend and after two days in Furnace Creek I turned around and headed back into Saline Valley, where I spent another two weeks.

Over the course of the next several years I visited Saline Valley twice a year from my home in Colorado, where I had established an auto-service business. In time I realized that (among other considerations) working was cutting into my Saline time. I sold the business and arrived with my little trailer at about 4:30 p.m. on December 6, 1985. (A very clear recollection of the momentous arrival … the departure was a bit more protracted and diffuse). At the time, Saline Valley was partly occupied by seasonal residents and lots of trailers left behind by the regulars for their in-Valley comfort. Of course as soon as I showed up, the BLM pulled the plug on the party and required everyone to pull their trailers out of the valley and limit their presence to six months out of the year between October and May. During the ‘warm’ season folks could stay for up to two weeks at a time. I had made camp in the location now occupied by the current camp host with the hopes of a long-term hovel, but had to pull stakes at the end of May.

I need a job in Saline Valley?

Chili Bob was the camp host at that time, and even he bailed on the valley during the hot months. While out of the valley he announced he would no longer be the camp host and was never going to return. (True to form, the later was not the case). I called the BLM in search of a position that would allow me some permanence in the Valley.

Me: I hear you are in need of a camp host in Saline Valley.
BLM: Yes, we are.
Me: I would like to apply for the position.
BLM: Okay, you’re in!
Me: I cannot guarantee that I will stay during the summer months. In fact, I probably wont.
BLM: We don’t care … you’re in.

For the next seven years, I was the BLM and Inyo County Search and Rescue liaison in the valley, by virtue of the fact that I had the radio that tied me to the Inyo County Sheriff’s office. (A bit like Lord of the Flies, only instead of maintaining position through the possession of a conch shell, it was a radio. The same, only different). After my first winter season, and as summer approached, I decided that to have any real credibility in the community (smaller and perhaps tighter than the current community) I should spend a full year in residence. Particularly during the hot summer months.

The best kept secret of Saline Valley

What I found out was that summer is the great secret. It quickly became my favorite season of the year. Okay, so it is hot. (Though I never saw it get over 124-degrees). There is a desert saying, that once you learn to love hell, you will be in heaven. I was comfortable with the solitude. Surprisingly the longest I went without seeing anyone roll along was 32 hours. I would ask people how long they were going to stay. The answer was often: “Until the ice melts.” They were usually gone the next day. People would often ask: “How to you handle the heat?” You learn to make peace with it. I would keep the crystal pool turned down and cool. (It would take up to two days for it to cool down after a refill … something I had to do too often when people would want to soak wearing their t-shirt to help them stay cool when they got out).

Back to the story

I also read a lot of books from the camp library. Chores would get done before 10 a.m. while it was still relatively cool (under 100-degrees) and the remainder of the day would be spent sitting in the cool pool, reading and napping. Which brings us back to the point of the story! Along the way I picked out Lonesome Dove. I have found the longest books are often the ones most worth reading. Lonesome Dove is a very long book. I could hardly put it down. I was about 3/4 of the way through the book when I did put it down for the night. The unfortunate mistake was that I left it out and forgot to put it in a secure location. That night the burros came through, as they often did, and one decided to sample my book. He ate about 1/4th of the book. Not the first 1/4th I had already read. He ate the upper right hand quarter of the book. Every remaining page had a quarter of the page missing. I was sufficiently put out at the interruption of my recreation that I got in my van and drove out the north pass to a bookstore in Bishop where I obtained a new copy of the book, cost be damned! (For those folks otherwise unfamiliar with the valley, the road out through the north pass is a tortuous 50-mile rough dirt road over a 7K+ foot pass. The trip to town and back is a full day’s journey). There isn’t much going on during the summer months in Saline Valley. It is just fine to find ways to spend the time. It did not take much convincing to take a break and head for higher country for a day in pursuit of a good book.

Tidbits

Burro control in Saline Valley?

Burros were a bane back in the day. We were trying to promote the survival of the palm trees and the burros would come along and gnaw them down. The palms responded by trying harder and growing taller faster. Eventually they prevailed.

During my tenure there was no fence around the lawn. (Land of the free; home of the brave). I was also given to sleeping down on the lawn during summer months. The evaporative cooling that watering the lawn provided dropped the temperature by 10-degrees. (Back in the day one of my daily jobs was moving the sole gravity fed sprinkler around). In the middle of the night I would often awake to the sound of burros trimming down (ripping up) the grass on the lawn. (The camp was like a huge salad bar buffet to the feral fellows.) One night I was prepared and had a bottle and a collection of bottle rockets next to my bedding. Never getting out of bed, I took aim, and I hit one of the grazing burros broadside. He went galloping off and braying his little heart out. The next night he was back and I repeated the attack. The bottle rocket bounced off his flank and he calmly turned and faced me. He had a look that said: “Really dude? I don’t think so.” I could not fool him twice.

Further reading during the summer

One of my favorite visitors to the Springs was Ross Ellis. He was a retired geology professor from Western Washington University in Bellingham. Realizing that I needed something to do during my quiet months, he brought me an introductory geology text. I must have read the book from cover to cover three times over the course of a summer. I do not think you can find a better place to take up a fascination with geology than Saline Valley. I started hitting up other geologist friends for disused text books. In time I found myself returning to studies at Cal State in Bakersfield. There I earned the equivalent of several degrees in geology while I also obtained my teaching credential. Ross always felt bad about changing my life forever. He felt responsible for my forsaking a perfect life in Saline Valley for a career in teaching. I never begrudged the gift he gave me …. one must keep moving along!

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