Desert Destination: Nevada Northern Railway

A couple months ago, we took Desert Boy to look at trains at the Nevada Northern Railway depot in Ely, Nevada. Last weekend we had the chance to actually go on one of the trains. Desert Boy was so excited, talking nonstop about the choo-choo. 

They have two different kinds of engines, a steam locomotive and a diesel engine. On our trip, the diesel was going to be powering us.

We had to hang on tight to Desert Boy, because he couldn't wait to get on board.

Finally the conductor called "All Aboard," and we gave Desert Boy his ticket to hand to the conductor. 

The train had the locomotive, two passenger cars, an outdoor viewing car, and a caboose. We could sit anywhere we wanted.

There weren't a whole lot of passengers on the first weekend of operation, so there were plenty of good choices of where to sit.

There weren't too many people in Ely, either, with no one waiting on the highway as the train went past. We were kind of disappointed because we really wanted to wave to people! Our route was taking us to the north of Ely, towards McGill.

The Nevada Northern Railway follows two main routes, one to Keystone, near the giant mines at Ruth, and the other towards McGill, where the smelters were. The track from Ruth to McGill was used by Kennecott mine to ship ore, and they used what was called the highline. A separate set of train tracks went down in the valley more and was used to bring freight and passengers into Ely beginning in 1906. Passenger service ended in 1941, and the train we were on was the first one scheduled since that time to go on the mainline. Last year, volunteers replaced 2500 railroad ties and helped clean up the tracks so that a portion of the mainline could be reopened. Along with feeling like we were a part of history, we also felt adventurous--who knew what we would find?

It was a beautiful spring day, so people migrated back to the open-air car. Because we were usually going less than 30 mph, there wasn't too much wind, and it was a perfect day to admire the high-desert scenery.

Eventually we got to the point where it was time to prepare to turn around. The tracks didn't make a big circle--instead the engine had to be moved from the front of the train to the back of the train. A little side spur provided the opportunity to do that. We could tell they were telling the truth about not going on this mainline before, because there were twigs and dirt piles on the little side track that we got to watch the diesel engine squish.

The crisp, high-elevation air provided for some excellent photo shots. In the winter, the railway even runs a polar express train for those interested in railroad photography--the contrast of the train against the snow-covered landscape is nothing short of beautiful.

Engine 109 was built in 1950 as one of nine engines used by Kennecott mine. The passenger cars we were riding in were 1928 Pullman cars that had been retired in 1978 and then restored. About 60 people can be seated in each car, and for some of the specialty train rides that include meals, they can install tables.

One of the best things about the trip  was how relaxing it was. No one was in a hurry, and I started wishing we had more opportunities to go places by railroad. It's so nice to be able to visit with other people instead of racing down the highway to go from place to place.

Desert Boy enjoyed watching the scenery go by, too.

On the way back to the East Ely Depot, there were a few more cars on the highway, so we got to have our fun waving.

And then up ahead, we saw a puff of smoke. The number 93 locomotive was out of the shop for a private rental. But we overheard on the radio that it had derailed. Everyone crowded outside to catch a glimpse of what was happening.

As we got closer we saw that there were a lot of people standing around the beautiful black locomotive. It wasn't apparent at first that it was derailed, but as we chugged past we saw one of the big back tires was off the track. 

This was the track we were supposed to be on, so we had to take a detour on other tracks to get back to the depot. At each switch, our train slowed down, a guy in front jumped off and switched the tracks, the train pulled forward, and then a guy in back jumped off and switched the tracks back to their original position.

Engine 93 is steam powered, meaning it needs lots of coal to make it go, so it carries its own coal car right behind it.

And then we were back. We had such a good time we are really looking forward to returning and taking the train again on one of the other routes. They also have a walking tour of the shop area that we'd like to take. If you're interested in learning more, visit the Nevada Northern Railway website. All aboard!

Desert Destination: Death Valley

Welcome to Death Valley National Park, at over 3 million acres, it's the largest national park in the lower 48 states. It's a place full of colorful geology, unexplained phenomenon, extreme variations, and wonderful surprises.

On today's trip, I'm going to take you from the southeast end of the park, near Shoshone, along the road that traverses the eastern side of the park up to Scotty's Castle.

Spring is a great time to visit Death Valley. Not only are the temperatures reasonable, but desert plants brighten the landscape. Some of the best places to see flowers are right next to the roads. Just park and wander around, and the diversity of life becomes apparent.

One of my favorite plants, the creosote bush (Larrea tridentata) was in bloom. 

The bright yellow flowers flashed as the branches waved in the wind. 

Spring is a popular time to visit Death Valley, and in fact there were thousands of people staying at Furnace Creek, the park headquarters area. But because Death Valley is so huge, people are spread out in the rest of the park, and it often felt like I had it all to myself.

It was easy to pull off the highway and snap photos of whatever caught my attention, like some more wildflowers and the beginning of a salt flat.

The salt makes it hard for vegetation to live, but nevertheless, some plants and animals have adapted to it. One of the reasons there is so much salt in the bottom of Death Valley is that it used to have a huge lake in it, Lake Manly. When the water evaporated, the salt was left behind. The lake fluctuated at different levels, so there were many opportunities for salt to be deposited.

As I headed north, I noticed some people walking out on a big salt flat. I rounded a curve and saw a parking area. This wasn't just any salt flat, it was...

...Badwater! The lowest spot in North America, at 282 feet below sea level. A boardwalk stretched out from the parking lot onto the salt flat. 

I was there late in the day, but I could just imagine the heat of a July sun at noon. It would probably be over 120 degrees Fahrenheit, about hot enough to start drying a person into jerky.

These holes intrigued me. I'm not sure what caused them, but it makes me wonder if there are parts of Badwater that might suddenly sink and swallow me up.

Off the beaten path, the salt deposits rise up and provide interesting relief.

At Devil's Golf Course, the salt formations are even higher. They look delicate, but most are very hard and crunchy. Footing is difficult, and a fall would hurt.

Since it was late in the day, for a short while I was the only one out there, and it felt both neat and creepy at the same time.

I decided to take a detour off the highway to go on Artist Drive. The mountains are particularly colorful in this area. With the sun mostly behind Telescope Peak and the other mountains on the other side of the valley, I didn't have the full effect of the artist's palette, but it was still spectacular. The road is one way because of some tight turns and constricted canyons. Maybe next time I can do it on bicycle.

The next day I got a really early start and continued further north to Salt Creek. This is a little creek on the valley bottom. Despite the high salt, high temperatures, and scarce vegetation, this creek manages to be home to tiny pupfish, along with aquatic insects, birds, and more. 

A sand dune with pickleweed is right near the trail. The pickleweed is succulent, with squishy flesh that stores water.

To protect the creek, the trail is on a boardwalk which goes next to and sometimes over the creek.

Further north I found more good places to stop and enjoy the wildflowers.

It was a very windy day, so I decided to skip the sand dunes near Stovepipe Wells. In the distance of this photo you can see the sand blowing off the dunes. If you want to experience a sand storm, one way to get a similar feeling is go to sand dunes on a windy day. I'm not sure why you would want to experience a sand storm, but just in case...

There is just so much to see in Death Valley that at times it becomes visually overwhelming. One thing I like to focus on are the alluvial fans, the land flowing out of the canyons in a fan-like pattern. Water eroded the rock away further upstream, redepositing it. As I look at the alluvial fan, my eye always moves up to the mouth of the canyon and I wonder what is up there. Death Valley must have hundreds of alluvial fans, so it makes my imagination go wild.

Another stop to admire some beautiful phacelia. Flowers bloom at the lower elevations from about February to the end of March, and then they start blooming at higher elevations. Telescope Peak is over 11,000 feet high, so there are even flowers blooming in the middle of summer in Death Valley.

A couple more alluvial fans coming down from mountains on the other side of the valley, with creosote bushes in the foreground.

Towards the north end of Death Valley, the main road curves to the east and goes to Scotty's Castle. 
The area is an oasis, and it's fun to wander the grounds and feel a little more humidity. A hummingbird was hanging out near the small waterfall between these palm trees.

Continuing up Grapevine Canyon, the road eventually leaves the park. I like the back of the park entrance sign, which said "Thanks for Experiencing Your National Park. Please Visit Again." 

I think I will. Thanks, Death Valley.

Desert Destination: Goldstone Deep Space Communications Complex

Every Monday we visit a desert destination.

A few weeks ago I had the opportunity to visit a desert location that makes one realize how small our planet Earth is. That place was the Goldstone Deep Space Communications Complex, which has an array of antennas that communicate with spacecraft that might be billions of miles away. 

Yikes. I can't even fathom that distance. And to imagine we have communications that far away? Why, we don't even have cell phone coverage where I live, how can we possibly communicate with tiny little spacecraft we can't even see anymore?

Goldstone is located on the Fort Irwin Military Base about 35 miles north of Barstow, California.

When driving towards Fort Irwin, I noticed some signs that I don't usually see. 

The tank next to the Welcome sign provides an interesting message, especially with the gun pointed right at the cars driving on the highway!

After going through the security booth (which took awhile--I felt like I must be a decent human when they finally finished checking my documents and didn't find me appearing as wanted on any of the government databases), I headed down the road marked as Ammo Route. I'm not quite sure what that was about...and I wasn't sure I wanted to ask!

The desert skies darkened and opened, allowing a deluge of water to fall upon the desert. I managed to snap a photo of the entrance sign to Goldstone, but my windshield was splattered with rain drops. 

The road to the main Goldstone complex is fascinating. Tucked away in the creosote bushes are huge antennas, pointed in different directions up in the sky. They are placed in basins so that the surrounding mountains block stray signals from other sources.

The different arrays are given different names, some after planets, like the Venus station. 

At the main Goldstone complex, our group went into a classroom for an excellent presentation from the outreach coordinator, Karla Warner. Our group was the maximum size of 50, but groups as small as a single family can also go on the tour. Generally two tours a day, four days a week are given. Reservations are required by calling Karla at 760-225-8688 or emailing her at kwarner@gdscc.nasa.gov. About 4,000-5,000 people a year tour the Goldstone complex.

After the presentation, we had time to peruse the exhibits that covered a range of space-related themes.

Then it was time to go 12 miles further into the complex to the Mars Station, home of the largest antenna, 70-meter Mars. You can see how big it is compared to the tiny cars in the bottom right of the photo. 

Side note: Do you see all the bright blue sky? The storm dumped for about 20 minutes and then was over.

The antenna is so large because the signals coming from space can be extremely weak--as weak as a billionth of a billionth of a watt--20 billion times less than the power required for a digital wristwatch.

The shape of the antenna is extremely important to hear the whisper of the signal coming from tiny spacecraft so far away. To help figure out what the signal is, the extremely sensitive receivers use amplifiers that are cooled to within a few degrees above absolute zero (-273 degrees C; -460 degrees F) to reduce the background noise generated by the electronic equipment.

The antennas also send signals to the spacecraft, telling them to turn on computers, take photos, activate instruments, and make course corrections. 

Here are just a couple rows of equipment that are used to record the data received. There are many more rows in this section of the building. And another part of the building is used to house the data to be sent. 

Goldstone is in California, a state known for its earthquakes. So above all this sensitive equipment are round beams that the equipment cases are connected to. A strong earthquake might make the floor rattle and roll, but the computers and recorders will be safe.

California is not always in the optimum position to talk or listen to spacecraft because of the earth's rotation, so there are two other deep space facilities: near Canberra, Australia and near Madrid, Spain.
Here's a glimpse into the control room at Goldstone. Different computers control different antennas. For routine communications, 34-meter beam-waveguide antennas are the most common. Other types of antennas include high efficiency, azimuth-elevation, and hour-angle declination. (I really don't know what those mean, but I'm trying to sound intelligent. I remembered to take a little brochure with me from the tour so I could get my facts straight, because there's no way I could have remembered all this.)

And if you'd like to make sure I haven't told any lies--or you just want to learn more, you can visit the Deep Space Network website.

On the drive back out of Goldstone and Fort Irwin, I passed several desert tortoise crossing signs, but unfortunately didn't see any desert tortoises.

However, I did see a sea monster making its way across the lake dry bed. I would have liked to have stayed longer to make its acquaintance, but I was a little afraid because I was on the Ammo Route, and I still didn't know what that was.

I saw a sign before a bridge that declared the weight limit was 64 tons. I didn't think that was for the sea monster.

Sure enough, there were more tank crossing signs. The brake marks on the pavement make me wonder if someone didn't take the sign seriously enough.

And finally we reach the end.