Visitors still enjoying rare Death Valley lake
While boating has been nixed, unique loch continues to draw crowds
“That’s a sign I ever thought I would see in Death Valley.”
“No kidding.”
The sign was at the bottom of the concrete stairway leading to Badwater Basin, officially the lowest elevation spot North America. That low point was quite soggy and the new home of Lake Manley, a sprawling expanse of water that emerged after another “historic” rainstorm.
The sign in question was a posting from the
National Park Service. “Boating Prohibited,” it stated in big bold letters, with the following explanation added: “Lake levels have dropped. Boating is no longer possible without damaging the park.”
The Lake Manely regatta appeared a couple of weeks ago when a small flotilla of kayaks plied the temporary lake at Badwater. The sailors had been lured to the lake by some savvy PR by the Park Service, which was then picked up by regional and national news outlets, plus enumerable online platforms.
Boats or no boats, there were still plenty of people visiting the unique lake about a week ago. They were strung out on the white tongue of water and crystalized salt leading out to the lake. The water wasn’t deep. The ground was a bit mushy and squishy, but feet didn’t sink down like they would in mud. Still, it was strange to walk in Death Valley, the driest spot in the US, and dodge puddles and wet spots and soggy mud. The further away from the parking lot you walked, the deeper the water got. Little trails in the crusty salty dirt skirted the water. Eventually, there was a defined shoreline outlining the sprawling lake.
It was a surreal scene. The obvious: You are 282 feet below sea level and walking on the edge of a salty inland sea or, as dozens of visitors were doing, wading in the murky water. The people in the water are moving cautiously. Even the kids. They stepped gingerly,
testing the muddy bottom, not trusting that the water was about mid-calf deep, no matter how far out they went.
It is also an obvious social media photo op. But the crowd this day seemed different. There were plenty of people taking phone photos and selfies. But there wasn’t the typical over-thetop posing or shouted instructions to crabby family members or rowdy friend groups. There was a notable sense of purpose as people actually documented the amazing, “once-in-a-lifetime” scene, the water, the mountains, the mud. No need for hype, exaggeration, over-thetop commentary.
The sheer scale and immensity of the scene subdued people.
The lake itself stretched to the horizon to the north and to the west reached what appeared to be the base of towering mountains topped with snow. You have to pause and ponder a bit when you are standing below sea level, in salt water, looking at snowcapped mountains and it’s 70 degrees and muggy.
Removed from people, standing on the edge of still water in a desert and bracketed by mountains on two sides, the defining sensation was an awed silence.
A deep, calm, warm silence.