From the Valley of Death to the City of Sin. Days 82-85

We were almost as low as it gets...it was going to get lower still. Don't worry though, we're only talking about altitude! No big uphills were planned today and whilst still cold, it was a lovely sunny day in Death Valley. We were running with the foot mostly off the gas as we'd managed to book Jenny in for a pamper at an RV servicing place in in Vegas for Thursday so we tried to time our arrival accordingly. Easy miles with a slow descent to 200 miles below sea level to a place called Furnace Creek. I was glad that someone hadn't turned the furnace on, on the way, but when I saw Furnace Creek in the distance I was surprised to see a lush verdant landscape with palm trees. I was a little concerned over how this had been achieved, but I learnt that it stems from a redesigned system for the local springs that actually enhances water retention in the area, so all was well. After lunch we took a mini roadtrip to Badwater, 17 miles away to see the lowest point in the Western Hemisphere at 282 feet below sea level. Pure salt rises from the ground here through cracks in the mud. I had a little taste. I can confirm it was salty. Taking in adequate salt has been an issue on the run, but I resisted the temptation to start filling bags. The local guide said the only people stupid enough to come to Badwater in the summer are mad dogs and Englishmen, before clarifying that it genuinely does seem to just be Europeans seeking a feather in their cap. I have to say that I would probably be intrigued to try, but I'm not sure about the 135-mile Badwater race. A few more miles to take some of the sting out of tomorrow's hill allowed me to meet Krzysztof Jarzebski, a Polish athlete who was undertaking a series of wheelchair marathons in the Valley and surrounds, braving the hills and elements. I love the kinship I feel with fellow adventurers and was full of admiration for his plan and future dream of building a training centre for para-athletes in his homeland. My route took me past Zabriskie Point, the place where U2 shot the front cover for Joshua Tree, before we headed back to the resort where we were kindly given a couple of beers by a travelling French family (Laurent, Corinne and Lola) and swapped stories with the cool gang of guys who call the Creek their home, as they work on the resort around a firepit.

Start: Stovepipe Wells. Finish: 4 miles past Zabriskie Point. 33.9 miles. Day 82 Tune of the Day: Blur – This Is A Low. It won't hurt you.

Before I set off running, we stopped at Zabriskie Point to get some photos. The Edge's main recollection of the Joshua Tree shoot was that it was “bloody cold”. I can concur. It was also raining. The landscape is so interesting (sorry for the use of “interesting”, but I reckon it's ok here), with different rock types creating a varied palette of colours. I posed for a photo trying to harness Edge's inner cool. My inner was cool and it continued to be that way as I climbed to 5,000 feet again, into a howling gale that felt like an invisible hand was pushing me back via my forehead. This was a late start, especially as the overnight rain had washed away the majority of my chalk mark designating last night's stopping point! I met a guy with his dogs on the way up and his well-wishing was the only positive point of what was possibly the toughest run I'd done so far. I was glad I'd done some of it the previous day. The push was now on for the State border with Nevada. A very kind lady had seen me on the road near an abandoned car and turned back to check if I was ok. I told her it was great to know people were looking out for each other in terrain like this and cracked on to the fairly surreal sight of the Amargosa Opera House (Yes, an actual opera house), Cafe and Hotel at Death Valley Junction, a remote out post at the crossing of the 190 and 127. Here we met Travis who revealed (much to Liv's delight) that this was the best coffee in the whole state, maybe the country. I'm not a coffee man, but can confirm that I'll nominate it in the BLT category. The owner, Gina, was originally from Melbourne and the place ha been fixed up to look like it was plucked straight from Brunswick. We loved it. It's all not-for-profit too, to enable renovation of the facilities. Please check it out if you're in the area – it's worth a detour! Anyways, back out into the rain for me and down the State Line Road to a very unceremonious border, where we struggled to work out exactly where it was. We called it at the change in the colour of the tarmac as each state maintains their own roads. I took a little more time documenting our stopping point tonight prior to the arrival of Jenny, who emerged through a haze of rain in the fading light. We stayed at the lovely Nevada Treasure RV Resort (it was like the Ritz!!) that night where I got a beer on the house as the girls relaxed in the hot tub and got chatting to Mark, a Death Valley Parks staff team member who had heard me talking and asked if I was the crazy guy wearing a red jacket and a light running over the top of Towne's Pass earlier in the week. I confirmed I was and he remarked that his co-worker had thought I'd watched Forrest Gump too many times and would be in stitches when he heard that the run was all about that! I was glad of the chat where I heard of the possible changes for the NP system under the new administration. Not pretty listening if the worst case happens. Protect your parks people! Stand up for what matters.

Start: 4 miles past Zabriskie Point. Finish: 8 miles into Nevada on Bell Vista Road. 33.1 miles. Day 83 Tune of the Day: Queen – Death on Two Legs. A deep cut. Sometimes Queen lyrics slip under the radar a little, but listening to these made me realise they were ahead of their time in many ways. Death Valley done. On two legs.

Functional running day! After an easy location of the start point, I had a couple of thousand feet of up, before a long downhill into the town of Pahrump (What an amazing name!) where we'd stayed the previous night. The town is over a huge area, though still isn't that built up. I decided to take the backroads to meet the team at the supermarket where they were stocking up. I said hello to a very inquisitive sheep in someone's front garden on the way and got to the RV in pretty quick time. The downhills make you think you're flying and be a bit dangerous in terms of long term self preservation, though as I know, there's usually a positive gradient round the corner which will bring you back to the plod, so plod I did, past overhead road signs advising of wintry conditions and to take care. I moved a little further away from the main carriageway. In doing so I noticed aeroplane symbols on the shoulder, making me think that this road was a designated runway in an emergency. It was straight enough, so I was happy enough with that and wondered what it would be like to see Captain Sully in a 747 bearing down on you. I now know that it's the far less exciting fact that it's for aeroplanes to catch speeding cars. With that revelation, it was time to hop back into town for the night, looking at the overnight temperatures of -2C and wondering what that would mean for tomorrow.

Start: 8 miles into Nevada on Bell Vista Road. Finish: Tecopa road/Highway 160 Jct. 35.0 miles Day 84 Tune of the Day: Del Amitri – Nothing Ever Happens. I was glad for an uneventful day.

What did it mean? Snow. That's what it meant. The tippy tap of rain on the roof in the relative shelter of Pahrump was somewhat different on the hills and today we were going to climb to our highest point since the Guadalupe Mountains in Texas. This was amidst reports of states of emergencies being declared in nearby mountain regions and people being stranded overnight. I was confident that the sun and the well-drilled road teams would ensure safe conditions for the RV, though Nads was obviously feeling a little trepidation. I chucked on the layers and found the roads to be ok, though the shoulders were a bit cut up with rough snow from the ploughs, so the central reservation seemed to be the safest place! After breakfast though, conditions were perfect, it was warm and even the way up the mountain seemed easier than usual – it may have been helped by the amazing view. As I descended I took the time to answer some questions from Year 7 of the Crayford Academy, whose teacher many of my friends will know – a certain Mr Ben Stileman had been relaying my exploits to and they were keenly following. This chat to the GoPro took me down from the snow into a more “expected” vista and on the horizon, Las Vegas, Sin City itself was in sight. I was informed over the phone that our meeting point had been extended for a few miles as there were extensive roadworks, meaning no chance of stopping and I skipped past a Highway Patrol officer whistling merrily and looking the other way to a “No Bicycles or Pedestrians” allowed sign put up because of the works and moved onto the side of the road where the building was taking place. Nice and safe. I was challenged by a concerned worker near the end and he let me know I shouldn't have been there though he was understanding of the fact that there was no warning of this on the other side and as I had no other real option and I was near the end, he let me carry on. Which was nice. All that was left after that was to bash out the last 7 or so miles before we decided to call it a day. The best bit about this was I got to then head to the home of a good mate, Lenny Cooper, who I last saw when I was last in Vegas – at his wedding. He's now living there with his ace wife Laura and young family, including two guys I was to meet for the first time - cool Leo and cheeky Bliss. They kindly let us park Jenny outside for a few days and the three of us then decamped via taxi to Excalibur – the Medieval themed castle hotel, which fortunately wasn't Medieval inside. We slipped through the door to be confronted with lights, gambling, the smell of indoor smoke and bars galore. We were in Vegas, baby!

Start: Tecopa road/Highway 160 Jct. Finish: 34.35 miles. Day 85 Tune of the Day: The Rolling Stones – Tumbling Dice. It's all Vegas, innit, but who in God's name called the dice game Craps?

Total: 2630.37 miles

I'll Show You A Place...High On A Desert Plain, via the Highway to Hell. Days 81-82

This was a first for an RV park (Boulder Creek) – Free muffins and tea/coffee in the morning, in the toasty warm clubhouse complete with aviary! This put is in a good spot for the day, which began with a trip to Keeler, a once thriving spa resort and now a virtual ghost town with a population of 50. We had a little nose around including the old gas station which is now a junk art installation and saw a surfboard pointing out “Keeler Beach”. Keeler has taken a big hit with the Owen's Lake debacle and most people moved out due to the crippling dust storms that hit after the water exited stage left. It made me feel pretty sad that people's lives had been affected so badly through no fault of their own. We returned to out finish point the previous day and I set about confirming our first meet point which was to be near the site of the actual U2 Joshua Tree. I was looking at conflicting information from maps and images and realised that it wasn't the 5 miles away I thought, but it could have been only 500m away. I decided to head out and check and after a bit of searching, I saw it. High on a desert plain, just like the song. I knew that the actual tree had fallen down some years ago, as they tend to do after 200 years or so, but it has been turned into a bit of a shrine and there is a new tree growing just to the south. There is also a bronze plaque, set in place with an image of the original tree in its pomp, with the words “Have you found what you're looking for?”. I had. I left my own message in the ammo case near the trunk of the fallen icon, touched the tree and was suddenly overcome with emotion. It took me right back to the time I spent in Joshua Tree, reminding me of what we've achieved so far and also my true love for the band...it felt like a real epiphany and I was glad I'd found it on my own, so I could just let it all sink in. I returned to get the others, enjoyed their reaction to the scene and whilst we were there, we were joined by Yuli, a U2 fan who'd made the pilgrimage from Miami after winning tickets to the gig there in the summer. I tried for tickets for London, Dublin and Chicago...but no joy. I will be at one of them though, by hook, or by crook!

I returned there on my own after the others had moved on and said my goodbyes… On leaving, amazingly, I bumped into J again and had a proper chat, asking how he got by in the desert. He is an artist who makes petroglyphs (Etchings on stone), primarily, and he showed me a lot of his work in a photo album, including the famous glass tree! This time I grabbed a photo and he even got one of me when he worked out how to use the camera on his new phone… He told me the whereabouts of a lot of cool sites in the area, but as is often the case, they just weren't on my route. A route that I was severely lagging behind due to my extended period at the tree. I had another 1,000 feet to climb before I would see the mothership again and just as I was running out of water, a Californian Road Crew driver called Brad pulled up and replenished me. He had hands like shovels and I'm surprised he ever needed to use the snowplough he was driving as I'm sure he could have shifted a snow drift quicker himself. He has already become a keen follower of the run, which is ace. Now were on the downhill as we entered Death Valley National Park proper and 3,000 feet of descent awaited before Panamint Springs in the glorious January sunshine, occasionally being buzzed again by one of the F-14's training n the area. I clocked the RV at Father Crowley's lookout car park and the three of us headed to the rocky outcrop and stared in amazement at the valley stretched out before us. I looked at the road to Panamint Springs, winding its way down the steep gradient, like a Top Gear presenter's frisky dream and decided I couldn't be bothered with that and set off down the precipitous drop off the side – I didn't die and cut off 3 miles with only a few scratches. Win! Almost beating the girls to the end, but not quite, I reached our stop for the night, noting the presence of a bar. We headed over for a massive feed and met Mike, the manager, a gregarious chap, full of stories, with a mission to become a serious runner, travellers all the way from St Louis who were off exploring in a Jeep and eventually Brad, a local boy and two time Badwater (Maybe the hardest race on the world – 135 miles of about 14,000 feet of climbing in 125F heat) veteran who was heading to Phoenix the next day for a 100-miler. As you can imagine, the major subject of conversation was running in general and it was nice to be able to talk about running in general and not just my run! This is probably one of the few locations in the world you can walk into with a tale like mine and people acknowledge it, but aren't overawed by it, as this is real lunatic runner territory! The food and beer were great, with offerings from Sierra Nevada, Kirks and Founders hitting the spot. Mike also promised me a present if I popped in at breakfast time. I don't think he ever sleeps. I can't believe we managed to get so much in one day...so apologies if this blog has worn you out...you may tell that I enjoyed myself a bit.

Start: Highway 190, 1 mile west of Centennial Road. Finish: Panamint Springs Resort. 22.97 miles

Day 80 Tune of the Day: U2 – With or Without You. Completing my U2 odyssey…

I remembered really feeling the climb up to near the location of the Joshua Tree, so after an unexplained bad night's sleep, I wasn't looking forward to climbing from 1,500 to 5,000 feet in 8 miles. I dropped into see Mike and he had gotten me a “Life is Like a Box of Chocolates” shirt from his days working at Bubba Gump – small world. He also let me know it was going to rain...and that meant snow where I was going...all day. He wasn't wrong as within 5 minutes I'd unpacked my rain jacket and set off towards an ominous looking climb into cloud-shrouded mountains. Very Lord of the Rings. I caught two runners, Ben and Dessie on the way, thinking I might have company over the top, but they were just about to head back and after a quick chat with a lovely visiting Russian family who stopped to take some photos, it was on. Jenny passed me after a few miles and stopped a little shorter than we planned as she was struggling a bit with the gradient. That made two of us. It was quite lucky as a good hot breakfast and an opportunity to pick up my waterproof trousers, gloves and trainers proved to be very opportune. I cracked on again and after bit more off-roading and scrambling to avoid a long windy bend, it really started to come down and very quickly changed to snow, that wasn't even blowing horizontally – it was actually blowing up at times! The bend in the road fortunately changed a headwind into a tailwind and I began to make a bit more progress, which was needed as I was starting to think I was going to be an hour later than planned for our rendez-vous at Townes Pass – the highest point at just shy of 5,000 feet. Snowploughs were whizzing past and kindly lifted their blades whenever they went past me to avoid me getting covered and getting to the top actually ahead of schedule, I searched for Jenny to no avail. It was almost a white-out briefly and I waited for that to subside and in that time guessed that the team had seen that things were going a bit awry and had decided to descend to below the snow line, so I just kept moving. I caught up with them three miles downhill and they'd thankfully had an OK descent, proving the wisdom of the decision. Swapping stories, we commented on how cool the clouds in the valley below looked until we realised that within a couple of minutes, the advancing edge would envelop us! I decided I wanted to get right amongst it, so after getting kitted out with my running light that makes me look like Iron Man, I ran headlong into the fog. Visibility was less than 100m and there was a sense of eerie foreboding as I made my way towards Death Valley – famed for being the hottest, driest place on earth! I imagined that this road could have been an inspiration for the song Highway to Hell and decided to have it on loop...because I'm a bit weird like that, though this certainly wasn't how I imagined it to be like when I envisaged coming through Death Valley. Good kit = happy Rob and the combination of Nike Stormshield jacket, Pegasus shield trainers, Higher State Waterproof trousers and Sealskinz gloves and socks as my barrier layers worked a treat and the beard is also coming in very useful currently. All this ensured a relatively uneventful trip to Stovepipe Wells (What a name!), though the ambulance crews and fire trucks racing in the opposite direction meant that it hadn't been as plain sailing for some. I later found out that everyone was OK, fortunately. The clouds finally started to clear and currently in the words of Nick Cave, the stars are splashed across the ceiling. Tomorrow's going to be a nice day and I'm going to get the unusual situation of running 200+ feet BELOW sea level. Anti-altitude training!

Start: Panamint Springs Resort. Finish: Stovepipe Wells. 30.59 miles. Day 81 Tune of the Day: ACDC – Highway to Hell. They used to say Death Valley was ruled by Satan's beasts and was full of poison gas...maybe it was the closest thing to hell on earth. They should rename the 190...

Total distance: 2494.02 miles.

 

Mojave, Mo Problems. Days 79-80

After the previous days' baptism of fire for the second leg, today was bliss. I headed north still in the bright California sunshine in temperatures in the mid teens (oC), with hardly any wind noticeable. One of a large number of State Parks called Red Rock Canyon, or similar, is in California and this formed the mid part of the run and whilst i's not the biggest it is stunning with different layers and shades of rock visible on the hills stretching into the distance. Idyllic, or at least it was till I just about avoided tripping on a 3 litre bottle containing a dark yellow liquid with a makeshift handle on it. I'm pretty sure this was a trucker's toilet. I quite like truckers, they give me space on the roads, they wave and the fun-loving ones will even give a long toot on their horn as they speed past – but listen: I understand that you're on a schedule and places to pull over aren't easy to find in an 18-wheeler – but this is rank. Unfortunately it's not a rare occurrence. Keep it in your cab.

Not as a result of the near miss, but more likely a result of the otherwise perfect conditions, I was feeling quite giddy for some reason and decided that even though it was quite busy, traffic wise, I'd try to get a reaction out of as many of the oncoming drivers/passengers as I could. Pretty much everyone coming back seemed to have skis on their roof, likely taking advantage of the long weekend afforded by Martin Luther King Day (I'm sure that's what he would have wanted) and were in similar high spirits so it was a pretty successful fishing trip for me, with waves, honks and “Yeah!”'s coming my way. If I can raise the energy for antics like this it's great as it makes the miles fly by. Obviously the converse is true and it's so important that I try and stay positive when I'm having a bad day to make sure I can take advantage of any good vibes that come my way. My good mood on arrival unfortunately didn't coincide with Nad's mood, as she's finding being out again a little tougher than last time. She misses her normal life and while I'm super glad to have her here, there is a bit of me that will be happy for her to get back to some sense of normality. I only have her here till the end of March, though she might come back out later on. Once I get settled into the routine again, we're going to start a transition period for me possibly going solo, in the likely event I don't get anyone else with the patience of a saint to take over. Applications are welcome!

Start: West of California City, just off Highway 14. Finish: Just south of Indian Wells on Highway 14. 37.11 miles. Day 77 Tune of the Day: Pride – U2 (In honour of Martin Luther King – the song is all about him y'see!)

Today was going to be a long day, full of ups and downs. Emotional ones. First down: Running past the Indian Wells Brewery that was only 2 miles from where we stopped the previous night, completely unbeknown to us and it was too early to be open. Oh well. Plans were hatched to come back as some quick research revealed extra hidden treasures such as the fact they make their own sweets and soda pop – over 150 flavours! First up: I was running on the main road and saw a couple of old wooden shacks the far side of a parallel road. There appeared to be a really cool looking Joshua tree outside, but as I approached (after wriggling under a barbed wire fence, of course), it became clear that it was a statue made of silver and bronze coloured metal and when I was right in front of it, I realised that its trunk was made of horseshoes, in a nod to the strong Western style history of the area. Hats off to Skip Gorman, a man far more talented than I will ever be! When I caught up with Nads and Olivia at Pearsonville - “The Hubcap Capital of the World” and home to a pretty cool statue itself (20ft high Lucy Pearson – the lady who had collected over 80,000 hubcaps...https://catchjohnfischer.wordpress.com/2011/09/07/lucy-pearson-hubcap-queen/), I as quite excited about our return to the brewery. Olivia had spied a roadrunner in the distance and she went to investigate. She returned with a concerned face and a warning of some impending bad news. Hoping it was nothing too dramatic, we invited the revelation. We should have known. Roadrunners and Jenny equal one thing. A tyre had gone. This put paid to any trip back to the brewery and sent the crew to Ridgecrest to get a new one fitted, as the RV can drive with a rear puncture, due to it having two rear wheels on each side. I made plans to get lunch from the Subway, took extra water and grabbed a few other “I'm going long” provisions. Nads questioned this, but while I may not be the most prepared at times, I had a feeling this was going to be a long diversion. This was confirmed as I was about 20 minutes down the road. Our errant tyre had taken out its buddy and Jenny was stricken. While I was upset about the delay and the increased cost that this was going to concur, I was glad I'd stocked up. 18 miles later and after a progression of signs telling me how close I was getting to a beef jerky shop (still very far away), we were reunited and I learned that we had been separated from $485 dollars. Though I'm assured we got a good deal for two proper quality tyres, it still is a huge blow and not what you wanted to hear after a long day on your feet. I resolved that even though I'd only planned on doing 37 miles, taking us 7 miles south of the RV park where we were going to stay, I was going to bash out the 44 and take something positive from the day, or night, as it would turn out to be. Using my new run lights from Decathlon, I descended into Olancha far less dangerously than the previous leg's night-time excursions and in a pretty good frame of mind. What was done was done and at least we could have a lie in tomorrow.

Final up: The guys had picked up some of the Death Valley Pale Ale from a local gas station.

Final down: The jump in mileage was met with a big protest from my occasionally troublesome right achilles. A nervous night's sleep lay ahead.

Start: Just south of Indian Wells on Highway 14. Finish: Olancha RV Park. 44.3 miles. Day 78 Tune of the Day: Radiohead – Idioteque. Last song of the day and contains a line “Everything all of the time...” I know that feeling.