Death Valley is Alive (Temporarily)

Nicholas’s mom was in town, and someone decided the best use of a perfectly good gaming Saturday was to drive two hours into the hottest place on Earth to look at flowers.

It’s February. It should not be hot. It was hot.

But fine. Death Valley is having a superbloom, and apparently that’s a big deal. When the desert gets enough rain — which happens maybe once every few years — the seeds that have been sitting dormant in the dirt suddenly decide to all wake up at once and turn the valley floor into something that looks like someone spilled a paint store. The last time it happened like this was… actually, the last time we went to see a superbloom. So I guess this is becoming a thing.

Yellow desert gold sunflowers blooming across the Death Valley floor with salt flats and mountains in the distance — Desert gold sunflowers. They’re yellow. The desert is brown. It works.

Nicholas’s mom was going on about the flower colors — the yellows are desert gold sunflowers, the purples are phacelia, and there are little white and pink ones mixed in that I didn’t catch the names of because I was being carried in a backpack and had limited interest in botany. The gist is: different minerals in the soil produce different colored flowers in different areas. Science.

Oh, and this trip had a special guest.

Nicholas holding Sumi Bear and Chestnut the horse on the Death Valley valley floor with wildflowers — That’s Chestnut. He was… enthusiastic.

Chestnut. The horse. From Hong Kong. He would not stop talking about how amazing everything was. “The flowers are so beautiful!” “The mountains are so grand!” “What a wonderful day to be alive!”

Yes, Chestnut. It’s dirt and flowers. Calm down.

Purple phacelia and yellow desert gold wildflowers growing on dark volcanic hillside in Death Valley — Purple phacelia climbing a volcanic hillside. Even the dark, angry-looking rocks got flowers.

I’ll admit it though — the purple ones were something. Clusters of phacelia growing straight out of black volcanic rock, like the flowers didn’t get the memo that nothing is supposed to live here. The contrast was ridiculous. Dark hillside, bright purple, golden yellow. Looked fake.

Ground-level view of mixed yellow, purple, and white wildflowers on rocky desert floor with mountains in background — Bug’s-eye view. This is what the desert floor looks like when it decides to show off.

We stopped at Artist’s Palette, which has nothing to do with flowers but everything to do with looking like a screensaver. The hills are painted in layers of green, pink, rust, and lavender from different mineral deposits. Nicholas’s mom loved it. I sat on a sign.

Nicholas holding Sumi Bear in front of Artist's Palette colorful hills in Death Valley — Artist’s Palette. Named that because it looks like one. Creative.

Then: Badwater Basin. The lowest point in North America. 282 feet below sea level. I have now been to the lowest point on the continent, which I feel should come with some kind of certificate or medal. It did not.

Sumi Bear sitting on top of the Badwater Basin sign showing 282 feet below sea level — 282 feet below sea level. VIB (Very Important Bear) at the VLP (Very Lowest Point).

Also, both Nicholas AND Pokin forgot their park passes. So they had to buy yet another one. I think this is their third or fourth in less than a year. At least it’s supporting the parks. That’s what I told them. They did not seem comforted.

The salt flats had water in them, which almost never happens. The same rain that triggered the superbloom left shallow pools across the basin that turned into perfect mirrors.

Badwater Basin salt flats with standing water reflecting the sky and mountains — Salt flats with actual water. Rare. I stayed dry.

Nicholas holding Sumi Bear out on the salt flats taking a photo — My bud, documenting the documentation.

We stuck around for sunset because of course we did. Pokin doesn’t let anyone leave a scenic location before golden hour. But this time I’ll give her credit — the light was doing something.

Nicholas and Pokin holding Sumi Bear at Badwater Basin at sunset with water reflecting mountains and lenticular clouds — Fine. This was a good photo. Don’t tell Pokin I said that.

The reflections on the water turned the whole basin into a mirror. Lenticular clouds stacked up over the mountains like someone was showing off. Snow on the peaks. The whole thing.

Yellow superbloom wildflowers at dusk with moon rising over Death Valley mountains — Moon over the bloom. Even the moon wanted in on this.

Desert road cutting through yellow superbloom wildflowers at sunset in Death Valley — The road out. Not a bad exit.

Hot, dusty, too many flowers, not enough cocoa, and someone’s horse wouldn’t stop saying how great everything was.

But I guess it didn’t totally stink.