DEATH VALLEY. To many, the words bring to mind thoughts such as hot; dry; desolate; windy; foreboding; lifeless.  Most of that is accurate, but by no means is the park lifeless.  It is also much more, truly a land of extremes, and with fewer than a million visitors in most years, the park offers plenty of solitude.  In most areas within the park, it also offers near-deafening silence.

Covering more than 3.3 million acres—roughly the size of the state of Connecticut—Death Valley National Park is the largest park unit outside Alaska.  Elevations range from 282 feet below sea level (the lowest point in the Western Hemisphere) to 11,049 feet.  As the crow flies, the high and low points are only about 15 miles apart.  Average high temperatures vary from 65 in January to 116 in July—a record high of 134 has been recorded.  Lows average from 39 to 88; rainfall averages less than two inches per year.   

Death Valley inhabitants, both flora and fauna, exhibit a myriad of adaptations that enable them to exist in this harsh environment.  More than 900 kinds of plants are found in the park.  Some of those making their home in the lower elevations send roots downward a distance of over ten times the height of an average person.  Others have shallow root systems spreading widely in all directions in the search for moisture.  Some have skins that allow very little evaporation or leaves that grow at odd angles to minimize direct contact with intense sunlight.  Still others lie dormant for years until the rare rainfall spurs them into an accelerated and compressed rush of blooms. 

Many forms of wildlife have adapted to live in Death Valley as well.  Temperatures fall quickly once the sun sets, so inhabitants of the valley floor are mostly nocturnal.  Night winds sweep away evidence of the day’s activities, leaving the next morning’s sands pristine save for trails left by the nighttime forays of creatures such as kangaroo rats, sidewinder rattlesnakes, and various scorpions and beetles.  At higher, cooler elevations, larger animals such as desert bighorns make their homes.  With increased elevation, moisture increases too, and on the high slopes there are forests of juniper, pinyon pine, and mountain mahogany, as well as stands of Joshua trees.

Far from being merely a place of death, Death Valley is also a place of amazing life.  Visitors must respect this park’s extremes, as is the case with any wild place; as long as they do, Death Valley is an incredibly—and subtly—beautiful and interesting destination.