When we got married, lo those many years back, we spent our honeymoon in Death Valley. Part of the trip was a wee bikepacking expedition exploring some of the dirt roads in Greenwater Valley. This was back in the days before bikepacking was really a thing; we improvised ways to carry our stuff with things we had on hand: a bike trailer, a rack trunk, backpacks.
On the more recent trip, we had our bikes in the back of the van, ready to come out when we felt like riding. After several days of hiking and scrambling, Chad was ready to bike, and suggested we ride where we did last time we were here -- but instead of taking two days with luggage, do the same ride in one day, unencumbered.
The roads look much the same now (left) as they did before (right). They may appear to be flat because the landscape is so big, but riding up those alluvial fans is no joke. We marvelled at how much work it had been for Chad to haul the trailer on the earlier trip.
See the trailer load? Much more than I had on that trip, though then, as now, I had most of the navigational responsibilities.
We found the same funny accretion of desert junk at one junction, slightly reconfigured.
Old
Current. Same riders, right? (though my back was a bit creaky this time)
We locked our bikes to the same obscure wilderness sign as before to go look at petroglyphs. Somehow, we forgot how much of a walk it was down to the rock art, so Chad got to hoof it in shoes with bike cleats in soft sand further than he bargained for. (I ride in flat mountain biking shoes, without the connected cleat, so had an unfair advantage in this case.)
The petroglyphs were fun to search for, as is usual. The park service does not put these on maps, so that it isn't so easy for foolish people to deface them. Fortunately, Chad remembered where the site was.
On the previous trip, we camped in a tiny tent.
This time, we enjoyed the spacious van.
And, as you might imagine, the sunsets out here are nice, and quiet. We slept well!
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