Death Valley: North
Reasons to Go: Eureka Dunes offers both the second highest dunes in North America and also a place to camp if you want to explore. Just up the road from the dunes turn-off is the location where the Mimulus rupicola can be found, and this tiny flower alone was the prime reason for a 350 mile drive to search it out on the Hanging Rock Canyon road. Everything else was just a bonus.
Best Time to Go: March, April. Even in a year with little rain, something is always there to enjoy. Cactus flowers are as pretty as any tropical bloom, and when there aren't any flowers, look at the incredible landscape.
The Mojave Desert
There are people who actually don't understand why anyone would want to spend time in a desert. Me? I would take a week in the desert over a week in Hawaii any time, and Death Valley is just a perfect place to start finding out why a desert is so interesting. Taking the time to actually get out of the vehicle is clearly the way to discover things. The view may seem endless and the layered mountains may seem like what it's all about, but take a walk away from the car and the small stuff that goes unnoticed at speed suddenly steals the show. Half-inch flowers abound. Close inspection might let you find thousands of tiny pink nama covering the sandy areas you thought were barren.
In Search of Rare Plants
2005: Yes, gas prices were high (like 2.75/gal in the Sierra region; note: doesn't that actually sound funny now in 2008? How times change) but sometimes you just have to fill the tank and go see flowers that can't be found anywhere else! At this time of year (March and April) it is Death Valley that calls out for a look-see. And while thousands of people headed for the Death Valley Visitor Center and the Furnace Creek to Badwater trip, there are great reasons to look at the northern Mojave area instead.
A trip to the north end of Death Valley can lead you to several unusual plants that most people probably miss, plus a nice side trip to see the Eureka Dunes: 700-foot high sand dunes that are just shy of the record 750-foot dunes in Colorado. Several years ago the dunes were closed to "wreck-reational" activities (dune-boarding and 4WD abuse), so today a visit is a pleasant, nature-moment experience. It's also a great camp spot. Did I mention that it's free to camp? The few campsites offer tables, and there is a maintained pit toilet: basic but sufficient.
The special botanical interests here include the Eureka Dunes primrose [Oenothera californica ssp. eurekensis] and the Eureka Valley dune grass, Swallenia [Swallenia alexandrae). I confess, the grass is not so awfully grand to see, but the primrose more than makes up for that. The flowers open at night but remain open after sunrise, so it is not hard to find them for a close look. The blooms are large (about three inches across) and appear quite delicate for such a dessicating environment.
Eureka Dunes also allows a number of decent and free camp spots, but be prepared for a strong wind that will develop as the sun goes down. It takes determination to sit around the picnic table for a few refreshments as you cook your dinner.
The genus name Oenothera comes from the Greek oinos meaning "wine" and thera which has been interpreted several different ways. One source says that thera is "to imbibe", either meaning that eating the roots enables a person to drink more wine, or referring to a similar European plant that was thought to make people like the taste of wine. Either way, noshing the roots of the primrose was supposed to ramp up your desire for vino.
The dunes are a 10-miles, rough-road side trip off the (semi) paved road to Crankshaft Junction through Hanging Rock Canyon. While rattling along the washboard road, we discussed the possible ways washboard roads become washboard roads! Remembering that I had checked this before, I now can post a link to a good explanation for the ripple-surface roads that we love to hate.
Another reward for this bone-jarring ride? A chance to camp in solitude and enjoy a very dark night. It's fun to see a million stars on a moonless night, far from any city lights. It should be a personal goal of every city dweller to head out for a dark night sky to spend even fifteen minutes just enjoying the chance to see the Milky Way and to ponder the stuff people are prone to ponder when gazing at stars a few thousand light years away.
In the morning, our trip back to pavement was another one-hour drive; the good news was that we were stopping every 100 yards to check out some new collection of flowers, for indeed, while the other vehicles went speeding away (anything over 20 mph) from their overnight camp sites, we were the only ones who seemed to have an interest in actually looking at flowers.
Of course it was mandatory that we get out of the car every few minutes to see the changing display of plants: there are a million flowers that just happen to be about an inch tall, if that. The evening before, when we were coming in, the evening sunlight was backlighting a pink wash of color that tinted the ground beautifully. The flower responsible? Tiny Nama demissum, a plant that many times was blooming without so much as a leaf under a little single flower. Nama means “river” (because they do form rivers of color), and demissum means “humble”.

Every flower has its own surprises but one of my favorites is the Lilac sunbonnet, also known as Langloisia. These members of Polemoniaceae are either decorated with pale stripes (Langloisia setosissima ssp. punctata, shown first) or with the intricate dotted pattern of Langloisia setosissima ssp. setosissima.
But Wait, It Gets Even Better!
Sure it's fun to scan he desert for forty varieties of belly flowers and all, but just a few miles up the road, marked with a GPS waypoint from a previous trip, there is a particular limestone wall where we expect to find the elusive Mimulus rupicola. This little flower is en endemic, growing only in Death Valley National Park on limestone outcrops. The first year we found it we found only a relative few small plants scattered over a 100-foot slope. This year it seemed they were twice as abundant.

As if the Mims weren't enough, there is also a beautiful daisy growing on this slope: Naked-stemmed daisy [Enceliopsis nudicaulis], the little brother of the Panamint daisy, [E. covillei, listed as extremely rare]. The Naked-stemmed daisy may not be a rare one, but you won't be seeing hundreds of them, and you will enjoy the chance to see that they are somewhat plentiful in this area. Ready for a treasure hunt? Set your GPS unit to UTM 11 S 0440799e | 4116540n. Go there and see these flowers in April, maybe into May. Take a look at the desert flowers page...
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