Spring Break Part I: Death Valley National Park

The forecast is for cold rain in Portland, so Larry and I make a run for Death Valley where it's 90 degrees and sunny. I had volunteered to plan the trip, but I've been a slacker and we're still not exactly sure what we'll do when we get there. We'll decide when we arrive. How hard can it be? Just go. Things work out.

We leave Friday afternoon and drive as far as Weed, CA where we stop for the night. Larry begins the drive on Saturday with a nutritious breakfast.



We buy groceries in Bishop, CA.
"Put down the damn camera and lend a hand before I slap you," Larry tells me.



By the time we arrive at the Stovepipe Wells Ranger Station, they're closed. I have my heart set on a 32 mile backpack trip up Cottonwood Canyon and back down via Dead Horse and Marble Canyons, but we need to buy topo maps. Trails in Death Valley aren't marked. Use your map and compass or get lost. Our only map has 200 foot contour intervals, not good enough for careful navigating. I shame Larry into doing the hike anyway by pointing out that if a girl can hike without a map, so can he. Against his better judgment, Mr. Preparedness relents.



I also convince Larry to forgo the recommended backcountry permit notifying the rangers of our plans in case we fail to emerge from the desert in couple of days. Armed with enthusiasm where our maps should be, we head for the trail.



We setup our luxurious camp at the trailhead. It's a deliciously warm night. We pile everything on the tarp and load our packs for an early start in the morning.



The next morning, we start up the dry wash of Cottonwood Canyon. According to the map, we'll find water about ten miles up the canyon. Until then, poor Larry carries two gallons of water. Obviously this is unfair; I could carry my own water, not to mention gear and food. However, Larry insists on carrying practically everything. For once I let him have his way.



Several miles into the hike, Larry asks to see the hike description I'd printed from the park's website including tips like: "DO NOT try to descend the canyon that drains beyond the dry spring. It has impassable dry falls." AND "The low spot on the ridge is where you start the route toward Marble Canyon. There is no clearly defined path." Oops. I left the directions behind in the car.

Annoyed and distraught, Larry sits down to consider his options.



What will will happen next? Will Larry turn back for maps and directions? Will Larry forget the whole thing and check into the Furnace Creek Inn? Will Larry run off with his pack full of water and leave me alone to die in the desert? Tune in next time to find out.

Birthday Bash

[A big thank you to Nancy for taking great photos at the party!]

Larry's turning 52 on March 24th. We celebrate by inviting a few of Larry's old-time friends and family over.



My son, Kyle, home from college for the weekend, volunteers to clean the bathroom before the party. What a thoughtful young man!



Larry's soon-to-be-someday-nephew-in-law, Poncho, is excited to be on the guest list for Larry's old guy party.



The Callister Clan gathers on the couch. The only person missing is Larry's mean older sister Teri who tortured him as a child. She decides to vacation in Phoenix and forego her sweet little brother's party.



The guest list reads like a reunion of Larry's old high school, college, and huntin' and fishin' buddies. One of Larry's former students is among them--can you pick him out of this line-up of old guys?



There are lots of old photos to look at and stories to share.



In keeping with the party theme, everyone brings a story about Larry's 1956 Chevy, a car that's been in his family since 1961. Larry reads the stories and guesses who wrote each.



Larry's dad, Vaden, attracts a small crowd with a story about a memorable day spent trout fishing on the Deschutes with young Larry and a couple of his friends back in 1973.



"Larry caught thirty-five trout like this," Vaden says.



"His friends," Vaden goes on, "caught a few of these."



"And I caught a steelhead that stretched from here to here."
Jim, listening in, is skeptical because he measures fish that way, too.



Lighting 52 candles is a big job that calls for two experienced cooks and one brawny bartender.



A cloud of smoke ensues when Larry blows out all his candles in one lucky breath.



Larry joins the young folks at the bar for pie.



Meanwhile, on the couch, Sig nods off, getting whipped cream on his nose.



Heather decides the old people party is pretty boring and falls asleep despite Poncho's efforts to revive her.



The next day, Larry's son Drew arrives, a day late and a dollar short. Not wanting to be outdone by my helpful son, Drew also pitches in to help. His job: drinking the leftover beer.



Meanwhile, outside at the curb, the Chevy waits to take Larry into his next fifty years of adventure.