Death Valley has some of the most extraordinary night skies

Death Valley National Park is one of the larger National Parks, sprawling over 3.4 million acres—the largest national park in the Lower 48 states. It is a remote park, located on the far eastern edge of California, with a small area tipping into Nevada. It’s remoteness and size has long held my attention, and it remains one of my favorite parks. Over the years I’d visited, I developed a fascination for creating one certain photograph—and to spoil the surprise and suspense immediately, I did. But I’m going to make you wait until the very end of this story to see that result.

I’ve written about Death Valley National Park before in The Playa. That was a marvelous adventure, and one I thought long and hard about recreating just for the joy of it. But I was on a different mission, so focused on creating the vision I was after.

In reality, I had a couple of goals in mind. The first was exploring more of the park, so let’s concentrate on that one first. There are a couple of paved roads in the park, one more or less leading from east to west, or west to east if you prefer, that carries most of the park’s traffic. It leads to the most popular areas, including Furnace Creek, which is the heart of Death Valley. 

Here, you’ll find everything you might desire. Camping, hotels, and the assorted supply and gift shops. I spent a few lazy afternoons here waiting. I’ll admit that sitting on a bench under a palm tree, while eating an ice cream cone in Death Valley is one of those surreal experiences I won’t forget for a long time, if ever. It is a scientific fact that Ice cream tastes a thousand percent better under a palm tree.

The paved roads also extend to the very popular Badwater Basin, which we’ll revisit shortly. But I was keen to explore more of the less-traveled areas, and so I left the pavement and headed out into the wilds of the park.

Out on the western edges of the park, you’ll find some of the best Joshua Trees anywhere in the west. A park ranger told me, and believe them, that the Joshua Trees here are larger and healthier than those in Joshua Tree National Park. And after seeing them, I believe it. 

It took a while to reach them by way of the dirt roads, but the effort was well-rewarded. I wasn’t in any hurry, either, preferring instead to stop, explore and see what wonders are hidden from view.

A Joshua Tree in Death Valley National Park

The trees in the densest area were every size, and sprawled absolutely everywhere. Unlike a traditional forest, however, Joshua trees do not grow close to each other, so the “forest” is a far more spread out than you might expect. 

A "forest" o Joshua Trees

This photograph illustrates how many trees there are. And for Joshua trees, they are enormous indeed. You can tap/click on the photograph for a larger view. I’ve been to Joshua Tree National Park and marveled at those trees, but after seeing this hidden gem, I totally agree with the ranger: these trees are magnificent.

A weirdly-shaped Joshsa Tree

Everywhere I looked there were more and more trees, each more oddly shaped than the last, and I could have spent days here wandering and exploring. And in fact, I almost did. But I had something else to create so I kept to my primary goal.

As an aside, one fun surprise at the edge of the Joshua forest was a small cabin with an outhouse tucked down a very short side-path. The cabin is well-known, but it was the outhouse that caught my eye. There is something about the entire scene that captured my attention and delighted me.

Loo View

And no, I didn’t use the outhouse. It scared me to even open the door, frankly, and I decided that was more adventure than I was looking for. Some things are just better left unknown. 

But, I digress from my goal, which lies back on the eastern side of the Death Valley. I was looking to go deep into the night skies, and especially during the winter months.

The Milky Way is the faint band of light that we can see from Earth, and is one arm of our galaxy. Best of all, it is full of stars—so many, in fact, that we can’t see them all, nor even make them all out. The center of the Milky Way is one of my favorite photographic targets, and one I seldom miss a chance to photograph. But the Milky Way offers more than just the core.

As the seasons change, so do our views of the Milky Way. Usually, the Milky Way is photographed from spring through fall, since that’s when the core is visible. But the winter months offer a different, and unique view—this is what I was truly after on this adventure. 

I wanted a wide, open expanse, and what better place than Death Valley? Here, with some of the darkest skies possible in North America, I had the best opportunity to photograph the night skies without any light pollution. There were two photographs I wanted to create, and, remarkably, both worked out.

The first one I wanted to create was at Zabriskie Point. I’ve been here many times during the daylight. Zabriskie Point, in fact, showcases a remarkable sunrise. But I knew that it would take on an entirely different look at night. I couldn’t wait!

The day offered the perfect set up for the night. There were no clouds at all in the sky, and the forecast said the night would be clear. I waited anxiously through the day, hoping the forecast would hold it. It did. The day was windy, too, which threatened to become a problem, and I was also hoping the forecast was wrong about the wind speed. Alas, it was not, and the winds were indeed problematic for me.

I don’t know why, but lately the winds seem to follow me around. No matter what the forecast says, the winds swirl around me, pick up dust, and threaten my photography. Perhaps I was the God of Winds in a former life? I really need to find a way to make peace with them, though. One of these days, I will. I hope.

Into the dark of night

I scouted around as the sun was setting and worked out exactly where I wanted to be, then began the vigil. The sun set, the sky remained clear, and the winds continued to blow. This was going to be a long, cold winter night in the desert. There was nothing for it, except to bear it out and hope I dressed warm enough. I was, but not by much.

It isn’t the cold that is the problem, really. It’s the standing still in the cold that is difficult. If I was moving from here to there, then my body heat would keep me warm. But standing there, in the cold and the wind, quickly saps whatever heat you might have had, and there’s no way to gain it back save by shuffling around. But you can’t go too far, meaning you can’t generate much heat. And the result is you just end up cold. It is a feeling I am all too familiar with.

As full darkness set in, I began working on the photograph. The familiar daylight scene transformed into one of mystery, and the sky shown bright with stars. I was able to bring out some structures seldom seen. We are used to seeing the sky full of stars, but the heavens contain more than stars. There are also vast emission nebulas, normally not visible to the naked eye. By using a modified camera and some careful processing, I brought these nebulas out. 

Zabriskie's Night

Zabriskie’s Night is the final result. The constellation of Orion is setting over Zabriskie Point. And we can plainly see the reddish hues of the emission nebulas, and especially the large arc known as Barnard’s Loop. To me, this represents years of thought and planning and having everything come together into one mystical photograph is the culmination of all my effort.

This area of the sky, only visible in the winter months, is one of my all-time favorite parts of the sky. I adore looking at it, staring at, and into, it. Every time I am outside and Orion is visible, I stop and look at it in wonder. To be able to create this photograph, then, at one of the most iconic locations in any National Park, is truly a dream come true for me. 

I was fighting with the wind far more than I cared for, but eventually, I won out. Normally, some wind isn’t that big of a deal, but at night, it complicates matters considerably. I need longer exposures to image the sky and the slightest movement of the camera, no matter how tiny, will spoil the photograph. Dead calm is the ideal situation and gusty winds the worst. This night the winds were blowing steadily, which complicated things, but I was able to overcome them. Whew.

I really need to figure out how to come to terms with the winds.

I planned this photograph for years. And now, at least, I completed it, and it looks even better than I had imagined it would.

But, there is more to accomplish! There’s another photograph to bring to life.

And for that, it’s time to return to Badwater Basin.

Death Valley’s Badwater Basin has exactly what I wanted—a wide, sweeping and interesting foreground combined with dark skies. As Badwater Expanse illustrates, the salt flats of the dried lake bed are fascinating. During periods of heavy rain, a lake forms here. As it dries, it leaves behind hexagonally shaped patterns of salt ridges which stretch into the distance. During the day, this makes for fantastic photographs, but at night, it takes on an otherworldly feel. I could hardly wait.

Badwater Expanse

Once again I watched the forecast which said clear skies are likely. And once again, it was supposed to be windy, but with luck it wouldn’t be quite as bad as at Zabriskie Point. I waited non-too patiently for the sun to go down.

It did, eventually, although it seemed like it too forever to do so. It was breezy, to be sure, but not nearly as bad as it was at Zabriskie Point. As the full dark of night settled in, I set about to create a broad, sweeping panorama of the winter Milky Way in ideal conditions.

Badwater Radiance

There’s a lot going on in Badwater Radiance. I was careful to make sure we could see the basin itself. The distant mountains are in shadow, but that was by design. And the night sky! Here, up above, we can see countless millions of stars, the gentle arc of the Winter Arch and even more of the fabulous emission nebulas. 

All told, there are hours and hours of work, and years of planning, to create Badwater Radiance, but it is the photograph I was hoping for.

It was difficult to pack up my gear at the end because I didn’t want the night to end. And once I was packed up, I just stood there, enjoying the stillness of the night and the glory and magnificence that is the Winter Arch of the Milky Way in Death Valley National Park.

Bring the Adventure Home

You can purchase, and fully customize, Badwater Radiance and Zabriskie’s Night. You can also purchase Zabriskie Point, too.

If you don’t see an option that works for you, contact me. There’s lots of options to create the perfect piece just for you.

More Adventures

You can also read the adventure of when I visited Death Valley’s Racetrack.

The Playa

The Playa

Death Valley National Park covers a vast area and, despite the word “valley” in the name, a wide range of topologies. It has mountains, hills, plains, valleys, and even sand dunes within its borders. There is one area that particularly stands out, the Playa, commonly known as The Racetrack, notably because of its ultra-flat surface and sailing rocks. The Playa is a lakebed, almost always dry, but now and then rains turn it back into a shallow lake, at least for a few hours. The lakebed isn’t the most notable thing, however, as we shall soon see.

Before we can explore the Racetrack, we first need to get there. On the surface, this is as simple as driving out the 26 miles on a rocky road. The road is flat, has minimal elevation gain, and doesn’t require any problematic navigation, save going straight at a well-marked intersection. Simple, right? Appearances are deceiving as they say.

The road looks easy enough at first blush. But its rocks are not round, nor are they easily driven over. Although relatively small, the stones are exceptionally sharp and quite fond of puncturing tires. You think to yourself: “how bad can it be?” The answer is, “beyond your imagination.” The experience is an exercise in careful, precise driving, choosing what looks to be the least worrisome section to traverse, and hoping you miss the worst of it. Hint: you won’t. In addition to worrying about routine punctures, you also have to worry about tearing your sidewalls out should you venture too close to the edges.

If the rocks don’t do in your tires, the constant vibration of 26 miles of washboards and bone-jarring bumps will shake something important loose or cause an engine component to fail. As for your suspension, it is unlikely to be the same after this experience. Far too many people have decided the laws of physics do not apply to them, and far too many people have learned the hard way that retrieving your vehicle is not quick, inexpensive, or uncomplicated. It is quite the opposite.

Teakettle Junction

In any event, I made it to The Playa in a few hours. There isn’t a lot to see, and even less to photograph along the way, except for Teakettle Junction, which is the only possible turn on the entire route. Just behind the sign, you can see what passes for the road. Legend has it that teakettles were left at this location by early settlers to indicate water is nearby. Although this may indeed be true, I suspect it is more of a myth than actual fact. Today, some consider it good luck to leave a teakettle, sometimes inscribed with a message, at the junction. The Park Service occassionally clears most of them out, and the collection slowly begins again. Water or not, myth or reality, it is a welcome waypoint on the way.

And truly, despite the hazards, the journey itself is a pleasant, albeit slow, excursion through the desert.

Near the end of the track, you can catch a glimpse of the entire Playa sprawling in the distance. It looks small, but it is almost a mile wide and nearly three miles long. Distance and size are not always easy to gauge in the desert.

Distant Playa

Finally, we get to the Playa itself, and it certainly is worth the effort. This ancient lakebed is flat as a pancake across its entire surface. I don’t mean that it has ripples in it, or small swells not worth mentioning. I mean, it is perfectly flat everywhere from edge to edge. It is featureless, too, except for its sailing stones.

Sailing Stones

The sailing stones are the main attraction. Scattered across the lakebed are numerous rocks, some of which are quite large, and behind them their trails as they moved across the lakebed. Some tracks are small, others long, some straight and some curved. Until recently, it had been a mystery how they moved. The Playa, with its sailing rocks and their trails, in the middle of the Death Valley, make an interesting juxtaposition.

Because the lakebed was bone-dry, I spent hours wandering about it, examining every rock and every trail I came across. I bent down and looked from their point of view to see where they might be going. Peering around them, I wondered if they would move, but they remained stubbornly in place for me. I looked at small rocks, and I looked at the largest ones. I examined every rock I could find.

The spectacle of the sailing stones is not one soon forgotten. Alas, it was eventually time to leave, but I’ll certainly be back soon!

Oh! You wanted to know how they move? Several things have to happen all the same time: the lakebed has to fill up, just enough to cover the bottom, but not too much, plus ice has to form just right at night, the next day has to be sunny, and finally, there have to be light winds. If everything lines up correctly, the ice is capable of moving the rocks, little by little. Over the years, they sometimes leave trails in the mud.

Explore more of Death Valley

Want to explore more of Death Valley? You can visit Zabriskie Point and places beyond!

Death Valley

There are places on this planet which are hot. And, there are places with scorching heat. There are even places that are below sea level. And then there is Death Valley National Park, which is all of these places and more. Along with this harsh environment, however, there are also wonders to be found.

David explores Death Valley National Park in California

California’s Death Valley National Park is isolated and remote, far from anywhere. Perhaps because of its remoteness, the valley has a certain timelessness to it, and it is easy to forget the modern world while you are there. The valley exists today as it always has, and always will. The landscape is arid and barren, for life is an effort here in one of the harshest environments anywhere. And indeed, its early history is one of struggle and perseverance as the early settlers and 49ers found out as they crossed through here in the mid-1800s.

Vegetation is sparse, at best, leaving a landscape comprised solely of sand and rocks. Winds howl through the valley, further drying it out, and the searing summer heat parches the unwary. The desolation is endless, even as you climb out of the valley and into the surrounding mountains. Although there are some low bushes and shrubs in the hills, and even trees at the higher elevations, you are still in a desert environment. Water remains precious and not easily found, and the summer heat is formidable.

Death Valley possesses the lowest spot in North America, Badwater Basin, at 282 feet below sea level. Being in Badwater Basin doesn’t feel any different than being at sea level, except in the summer when the temperature routinely tops 120 degrees and has a record temperature of 134 degrees. That’s hot! It is the kind of heat that hits you like a blast oven and can easily overwhelm you before you even realize what is happening. The experience of being here, in the lowest place on the continent, is a powerful and moving one.

But yet, beauty is everywhere. Even in this harsh environment, there are soaring landscapes and amazing scenes. From sweeping panoramas to intimate moments, Death Valley is a photographer’s wonderland. Looking up at the surrounding mountains while you are in the valley is spectacular. The mountains meet the valley floor in a sharp line, making a dramatic transition. Although there aren’t any sheer cliffs, the mountainsides are steep and unforgiving, and most of all, imposing. Looking down at the valley from up above is equally inspiring, and we’ll see that view in detail at Zabriskie Point in just a bit.

But first, let’s stop at Artist’s Palette. This area is renowned for its uniquely colored slopes. The jagged hillside is composed of unusual and unexpected colors and jumbled together. Turquoises and purples, oranges, greens, and blues are everywhere, and it does indeed look like a colossal pallet. Metals have oxidized the soil, creating a very different landscape. Instead of the mounds being a jumble of color as you might expect, each has a unique color, creating the pallet effect when seen from afar.

Death Valley: Artist's Pallet

It was very wild to make my way through the purple sand to the top of a low hill to make this photograph. Every step I took, I kept looking down, wondering if I would see brown beneath my feet. I never did. On the other side of the purple hill was a green one, which I also dutifully scaled. All around me, colors assailed my senses, and Artist’s Palette has left a long-lasting impression on me. I’ve never seen this to this degree anywhere else.

Badwater Basin is another highlight of Death Valley. Here, there is, amazingly, water. It just isn’t drinkable water. Instead, it is salty and bitter and undrinkable even to the most desperate. What makes this area unique, however, is the massive salt flat, miles upon miles across, completely unbroken almost as far as the eye can see. I made this photograph after walking a mile out on the salt flat. Even at that, it felt as if the far side was no closer than when I started, and the distances began to fool my eye. The more I walked, the farther away the mountains became, and my sense of scale was completely off-kilter the entire time I was out there.

Death Valley: Badwater Basin

Finally, let’s visit Zabriskie Point, where I spent quite a bit of time and many sunrises. Zabriskie Point is easy to get to, but far harder to leave. You want to linger here for just a moment longer to witness how the display will change. Then, as you get ready to depart, you can’t help but wait a bit more to see what happens next. The timelessness of Death Valley is strong here, and knowing how many people before you have beheld the scene before you is a powerful reminder. Some of the most iconic Death Valley photographs and posters feature this very view.

Zabriskie Point is an overlook into the valley below, which is incredible in and of itself. What makes it truly spectacular, however, are the tortured rocks surrounding you. There isn’t a straight line anywhere, and erosion has created a rock fairyland. The colors, while not as colorful as Artist’s Pallet, are outstanding, especially in the warm glows of the early morning and late afternoon.

Each morning here tells a different story, and each morning presents its unique imagery. This photograph, Zabriskie Point, is my favorite from all the ones I made. Some mornings were full of reds, but this morning the clouds briefly lit up with an ethereal orange glow. Coupled with the oranges and deep yellows of the rocks below, and contrasted by darker ridges and the distant mountains lighting up, I think Zabriskie Point is a classic Southwestern desert photograph. I can feel the drama of the sunrise, yet the tranquility of the desert offsets that. There is tension, and there is a counterpoint of calmness in Zabriskie Point.

Death Valley: Zabriskie Point

You can read more about Zabriskie Point here.

Death Valley is also home to The Playa and its magical sailing stones.