Friday 20th October - day 31.
Lake Mead to Death Valley.

When we pulled into the free camping at the Overton Wildlife Management Area last night, we imagined a secluded backwater with trees, water, wildlife and lots of open space. We were right about all of those, but hadn't reckoned on the railway siding across the road. There seemed to be activity all night but they got to work with a vengeance at 6.30 so we got up and drove on down the lake to find somewhere lovely to run.
Our surroundings and climate had changed dramatically once again. Having left the river canyon at Zion behind, we were now in the desert, surrounded by mountains. The only vegetation was scrubby leafless thorn bushes, except where an occasional spring popped up to create an oasis and then we could see a lush pocket of palm trees and grasses.
Having been used to experiencing cold nights and chilly early mornings up in the mountains, we were surprised to step outside the van and be struck with a warm dusty wind - even at 7am. This was the Valley of Fire State Park.
We thought we had found an ideal spot for trail running and breakfast at Echo Bay.
It certainly looked beautiful - rolling desert down to a teal blue lake - but it was a ghost town. The infrastructure suggested a huge camping and boating resort - wide roads, campsites, car parks and boat launching area, but it was all boarded up and empty. We parked in the centre of the huge empty car park and ran towards the lake. It was extremely windy and small dust storms popped up from time to time - we expected to see a tumble weed roll by.
The run was somewhat challenging. There were no trails to follow so we ran down the track towards the lake and jetty, and then headed off in the direction of some rocky coves. It didn't go well - soon we were running through desert and thorn bushes, up and down over small ridges and valleys, covered with soft sand. We felt quite adventurous until we saw a few things slithering under bushes and a couple of coyotes up ahead...
I have never gained much reassurance from the phrase 'They are more afraid of you than you are of them' - especially when 'they' have pointy teeth and claws or fangs, so we swung away from the lake and ran back inland.
Back at the top of the hill we clambered into the van and pulled the thorns out of our poor savaged legs.
Then we drove on down the track, towards the water and parked in a large flat area on a headland overlooking the Lake Mead.
The wind was blowing hard across the lake creating ripples, waves and white horses over the dark turquoise water. We watched a flock of coots swimming against the waves as the RV was buffeted by the wind.
We sat in our rocking van with the door open, enjoying the views and a sumptuous breakfast of crispy bacon, eggs and avocado.
When we set off, Bill took full advantage of the enormous deserted gravel car park to perform a racing start and RV donut, with me shrieking in the passenger seat, before rattling up the track onto the main road.
The scenic North Shore Road had stunning views - words and photos cannot do justice to the scenery all around. There was an undulating desert landscape of grey and buff, dotted with small bushes and tumbleweeds, backed by pink and ochre buttes and mountain ranges ( the Muddy Mountains). Every so often there was an eruption of dark reddish orange rock, as if a giant mole had been at work.
Overhead were a stream of helicopters, all evenly spaced and flying in the same direction. Not search and rescue or military but tourists from Las Vegas viewing the Hoover Dam and Grand Canyon from the air.
Eventually it was time to leave our solitary drive through the desert and join the crowds and traffic driving west, past Las Vegas and on down highway 15 towards Death Valley. The motorway was grim and we were pleased to get out into the desert again.
We drove into the park at Shoshone. At first the scenery was pretty similar to the areas we had been driving through all morning. Then it became much more dramatic. This environment is one of the most extreme in the world - less than 2 inches of rain per year, summer temperatures in excess of 49 degrees C, dropping to 38 degrees at night.
A medium sized bird raced across the road in front of us -a roadrunner, along with the coyotes and rabbit we saw this morning, this completed our cartoon hat trick! Soaring overhead we saw another red-tailed hawk with its impressive 49" wingspan.
When we stepped out of the van to have coffee, we were struck by the heat and how very windy it was. As we drove we could feel the wind rocking the van and could see plumes of sand and dust being swept across the road in front of us.
We stopped at the ruins of Ashford Mill, where there had previously been a gold mine, and we had lunch.
After driving through vast flat areas of desert we arrived at the Badwaters area. This remarkable place in the valley lies 282 feet below sea level. The whole basin was covered with salt crystals, and extended for several miles. All water courses in the valley drain here, but the basin has no outlet, so the water evaporates, leaving the salts behind. It made an intriguing and striking afternoon walk across the flat plains of glittering white salt in the hot sunshine.
Further on we drove along Artists Drive. This was a spectacular loop road that climbed steeply under the cliffs on the east side of the valley. Millions of years ago, volcanic activity deposited ash and a variety of minerals such as iron, aluminium, magnesium and titanium, over the hillsides, and these deposits created patches of multiple colours including red, green and blue - like an artists palettes. The road twisted and turned and went up and down like a roller coaster.
We parked up at a high point and sat on some warm rocks with mugs of tea to watch the sunset. There were a few scattered clouds so as the sun went down the whole sky lit up red. It was a lovely peaceful hour to reflect on life and the beauty of the natural world.
We drove the rest of the valley at dusk. The lovely shadowy shapes and colours gradually fading into darkness.
Then we drove south - undecided whether to camp her and make an early start tomorrow or to drive on.
We drove on to Ridgecrest for provisions, planning to drive into the mountains to camp at Chimney Creek.
Suddenly overwhelmed by tiredness after 400+ miles we simply closed the curtains, parked in the corner of the huge, empty Walmart car park, cooked supper and slept.