Motor of the car fades chopping off the soft breath of the air conditioner. Despite the fact that the interior is cool I already know that outside the metal will crackle softly reminding the sound of wood swallowed by the fire. It is not surprising — even a white paint of the car can’t save it from the 40 degree heat.
It's like a ride at a speed of 120 km/h through a heated Finnish sauna. Within seconds the pleasant outside air heat turns into a semiconscious heat. The water in the bottle ends as quickly as it evaporates from the body –not strong but constant hot wind takes all the moisture from the skin. In these melting spaces even he is thirsty.
He did not just lick you like a sweet candy but finds its way to the very cells blowing any semblance of liquid from the inside. Lips crack, skin on the face and hands stretches ready to break and in a couple of minutes one can feel as withered as the desert around. Welcome to the Death Valley.
Millions of years ago there lived small even invisible future creations of evolution. They frolicked in the paradise-warm shallow of inland seas. Today have become the lowest point in North America this place feels more like a bowler being slowly heated at one of the fires of hell. This desolate land will not tolerate even a drop of water on its possessions. Being separated from the whole world by mountain chains valley became a huge trap for the unwary bearing life-giving moisture winds. They are rapidly sliding down the slopes of the desert being trapped and not even noticing how the Mojave sucks the life out of them turning into a dry hot shades.
Death Valley is also not much in favor for people. It is today that it allows us to amuse our self-esteem and a ride on its lands in the comfortable air-conditioned car with week supply of water in the boot. But there were times when the dead earth take was taking price from too careless travelers who as well as the winds did not know what lands they stepped in.
That group of people was probably one of the first, not counting Indian tribes Timbisha who lived here thousands of years, who experienced sucking out the soul scorching heat of the dead lands. But they gave this land its frightening name. In 1849 driven by greed of California gold rush a group of people decided to cut their way to the golden mountains across the valley. Wandering a bit on a crispy ground one can imagine what these travelers have come through, losing a few people in addition.
And while sitting into a cozy beige cool of the passenger compartment it’s so easy to feel the relief that they have experienced leaving the valley through the mountain pass Wingate Paz. And turning the weathered face to the deliquescent from the midday heat ground woman slightly opens her chapped lips wearily saying — 'Good-bye, Death Valley'.
Have a good day, MarrySav!)
This post is also available in: Russian