Ok I thought that will work, and in the morning when I came around looking for the place, I was met outside by a smiling man who said coffee, coffee, coffee, and pointed me in the right direction.
The room he directed me to was the one behind the check in counter all right, but there were no tattooed and multiple pierced baristas, only of couple of metal carafes full of some canned coffee brewed in a bunn. At least they had the little plastic cream packets of mini moos. The couches looked comfy, so I drew a cup of coffee out of the pot, opened my laptop and new I would be on line way before the fellow sitting at the lodge’s old desk top machine that was for guests to use.
My computer connected to the internet, and I actually saw the Google page but that was it. No bandwidth was to be had, I was still cut off from the electronic world. No Internet. No Cell Phone. They do not call this place Death Valley for nothing.
There was no time to dwell on being cut off from the world, we had work to do. Trinkets to purchase across the street and Salt Creek to shoot…
Stark Harsh Environment of Salt Creek
Salt Creek sustains the valleys endangered pup fish. Tiny little fish that live in water salter than the ocean. For some reason I thought the road into the creek was paved, but it wasn’t. It was a couple of miles of gravel. Later heading into Scotties Castle we got to ride on more gravel, as the road was under construction. I think the park service must have torn up the road just so we could feel at home…
Death Valleys Scotty's GraveWe hiked up to Death Valley Scotty’s grave site. People like to rub his nose? The words on his monument are still good ideas today. Don’t say nothing that will hurt anybody. Don’t give Advice. Don’t Complain. Don’t explain I doubt that the author of the four agreements Don Miguel Angel new Scott, because he would have been two years old when Scott died, but maybe he visited his grave also.
After the castle we had to backtrack as the road out of the park was closed for construction.
Crossing over into Nevada we had our passports ready for inspection, but the border was guarded only by a sign that said Cattle Guard. We didn’t even see the actual guard. That is the way of the desert…