It had been
a busy day and a long night, so those of us that remained in Furnace Creek took
naps on old cots as mom, dad, and I rested up for the sunset mule driven wagon
tour. Mom was still with the 10 - 2 & 4 Dr. Pepper experiment and after
number 2 at 2, she wasn't much for sleeping and made off for the pool to finish
Cat on a Hot Tin Roof.
At 3 the
Bel Air was headed down Badwater
Road to the base camp for Covered Wagon Tours
where we met with Neil, the outfit's boss, along with guide Jona and
muleskinner Craig. As the rest of the passengers arrived Neil told us more
about the 20 Mule Teams and wagons in general.
For
instance, we didn't know that the steel rim around the wooden wagon wheels was
called a tire, and that's where folks got the name for the rubber that meets
the road in the present day. The tires on a 20 Mule Team rig were as wide as 7
inches. We also didn't know that the plank or planks of wood a wagon driver
(also known as a teamster or muleskinner) was called a dashboard because it
helped 'dash' away mud and rocks and such that was kicked up.
Neil went
on. Given the times and conditions like hairpin turns and sheer dropoffs, the
20 Mule Teams had a remarkable safety record of no accidents. And that was no
accident in that the lead mule up on the left and the muleskinner had a fine
tuned relationship in which they communicated with a 100 foot leather jerk
line. A steady pull would command a turn to the left and a quick up and down on
the line turns to the right. And that lead mule was not your average mule
either, he was extra smart and could cost as much as $2500. A handsome sum
considering the entire rig cost $900 to build. On tight corners these mules
would jump their chains to maintain an angle. It must have been something to
see. Neil added that mules are smarter than horses, stronger than horses, don't
get sick as much, and survive on a wider variety of food.
By then
everyone was there and we were off.
As we rode
the covered wagon and looked out from under the shade of the canopy I got to thinking that what they
needed along the trail was a Burma-Shave jingle or two spaced along the way.
Something like the one Dave Frey back at Stovepipe was saying all the time and
dedicating to his wife:
The big
blue tube
Is like
LouiseYou get a thrill
From every squeeze
We went a
little further and to the rhythm of the wagon I began to quietly sing what I
could remember from 'Cool Water';
Keep
a-movin' DanDon't you listen to him Dan
He's a devil not a man
And he sheds the burning sand with water
Just then
Jona, our guide said "Do you know who Dan Is?"
I said I
did, it was Dan Hazelwood from school...the kid I kept getting into fistfights
with. She said no, a Dan was a mule, or sometimes a horse, of a grey-brown
color. Well that pretty much ruined the song for me for I had imaginary designs
of leaving my Dan Hazelwood's bones to bleach out in the
desert, for
he too had romantic intentions for Susan Gunderson back home.
Jona then
asked us to look around the vista and spot living things and ponder what there
might be to eat in that vastness. The desert floor seemed to me to be stocked
thin as mom's kitchen, though she at least kept a supply of milk and Ovaltine
handy.
While
muleskinner Craig drove on, Jona said most of the activity in Death
Valley occurs at night when it cools down. The kangaroo rat comes
out, but he doesn't look for water, he never drinks it. He's adapted special
organs in his nose to extract moisture from the air. Old Dan could have used
that trick. The roadrunners come out looking for kangaroo rats. Tiny pupfish
can swim in briny 115 degree water. The desert holly plant likes the salt too
and uses it to turn its leaves silver as the summer sun approaches. The Death Valley tortoise can go a full year without
water...if held to Ovaltine and Coke I was pretty sure I could do that as well.
The turkey vulture pees on its legs to keep them from overheating...to which my
mom advised me not to consider that when we stopped at the oasis. I was
considering it. The black tailed jackrabbit needs to eat several times its body
weight every day just to stay hydrated. For regular food though we need to get
off the desert floor into higher elevations to find conditions more like the
rest of the Mojave and Colorado desert where we'll find mesquite beans, pinion
nuts, and acorns and such to make grain and meal. That can be made into a sort
of pancake and with some tree sap and quail eggs, you've got breakfast in no
time at all.
Jona said
we'll learn a little more when we return to camp from the cowboy entertainer.
From the
small oasis which was our destination it was a short walk to the next landmark
on dad's list. This was where the lost '49ers waited (long camp) and nearly
starved for a month while two members; Manly and Rodgers went on and finally
got help. Higher ground as we just learned would have served them better. If
they'd have stayed with Captain Jefferson Hunt, their original guide, they'd
have already been at the goldfields they sought.
Captain
Jefferson Hunt
William
Lewis Manly
NO. 444:
Bennett-Arcane Long Camp
Plaque
inscription: Near this spot the Bennett-Arcane contingent of the Death Valley
'49ers, emigrants from the Middle West seeking a shortcut to
Location: From
State Hwy 190 (P.M. 111.8), go approx 16 mi S of intersection of Badwater
Rd (south) and Westside Rd, on Westside
Rd, Death Valley National Monument
The sound
of a banjo in the distance got closer as we approached the campsite...it was
the western entertainer waiting for us. His name was actually Phillip Boyd
Studge but he went by the handle Philboyd. Soon as we got seated at the benches
inside the tent to wait for dinner call, he played a sort of guessing game song
about a plant to test what we'd learned while on the ride:
I stand out
in the desert, I’m a little guy
When fully
grown. I’m not 4’ highI smell really good, after a rain
I’m all around, what’s my name?
Yes I’m all
around, that’s another clue
I can clone
myself, I’m both old and newFor getting old, I have no peer
And stand around, for 12,000 years
I can clear
your head, ease congestion
Heal your
wounds, now here’s a questionWith all that I can do you see
Do you have a name for me?
Well I
stand alone, and I like it that way
Don’t grow
too close, or you can’t stayNeed my space, so don’t you push
I’m your friend, I’m the Creosote Bush
I’m a
medicine cabinet, some folks say
With a
thousand cures. in a thousand waysTreatments for your afflictions
Cure your cold, ease constriction
Dry skin,
consumption, brittle hair
Cramps and
pains, I’ll be thereNausea, poisons, and infections
Rheumatism, poor circulation
Use my
branches and make tea
Use my
leaves and pieces of me Just save a little for the next in line
For I’m slow to grow, I take my time
Well I
stand alone, and I like it that way
Don’t grow
too close, or you can’t stayNeed my space, so don’t you push
I’m your friend, I’m the Creosote Bush
Then there
was the song for the Covered Wagon Tours; 'Let The Wagons Roll'
Oh can’t
you see the Western sun a settin’
Let the
wagons roll for meIt’s an evening that we won’t be soon forgettin’
Let the wagons roll for me
Stars in
the sky, ki-yippy-yippy-yi
No finer
place to be
Oh can’t
you see the Western sun a settin’Let the wagons roll for me
Out on the
trail we’ll see the mysteries of the desert
On a wagon
pulled by muleBack to camp we come for dancin’ and a-singin’
A chuck wagon bar-b-que
Over the
pass to the valley floor at last
No finer
place to be
Oh can’t
you see the Western sun a settin’Let the wagons roll for me
He then
taught us the Barn Dance, which seemed a lot easier and a whole lot more fun
than the steps I was learning at Call's Dance Studio back home in Long Beach.
Then it was
time for a western dinner of coleslaw, cowboy beans, tri-tip, chicken, garlic
bread.....and pie. We roasted marshmallows and sang 'Happy Trails', the
official last song of the wagon tour, a fitting end to our last full day in Death Valley .
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