It’d been a long week, and it was only Wednesday. We’re to leave the country on February 23rd and a there’s a lot that needs doing before then. Staying nose to the grindstone was the responsible move.
“Hey babe… wanna go to Death Valley for the next four days?”
“Oh my god yes.”
It didn’t take long to pack up. We knew the drill from living out of the truck for two months this summer. We were gone early the next morning.
We camped on BLM land near the ghost town of Ryholite the first night, near a seep obviously frequented by wild burroughs. The cold wind whipped all night long. Robyn stuffed her gloves in the camper shell doors to make them stop banging together.
I’ve had Titus Canyon on my tick list for years. It’s a 27 mile dirt road cutting through the mountains into Death Valley from Nevada. High clearance is recommended, but honestly a Corolla with a shovel in the trunk could probably make it. Titus Canyon isn’t done for the technical thrills, it’s all about the sheer variety and otherworldliness of the landscape.
We met friends at the campground in Furnace Creek that night. We rarely do campgrounds, preferring to dry camp in the boonies far from generators, partiers, and rules, but it was great to hang out around an actual campfire with friends. The next morning after coffee we did the 8.7mile Dante’s View hike.
Robyn and I had one more boondock night to ourselves, camped within sight of two short-skoolies on an alluvial fan below the Funeral Mountains.
The trip was exactly what we needed, and a fitting farewell to Jeremiah and #trucklife in general. If all goes well, Jeremiah will pass on to a new owner within a week. I’m finally making good on my vow to sell the truck. I certainly won’t need it while we’re out of the country, and even when we get back to the States I’m interested to explore, ah, alternative forms of transportation and outdoor adventure.
