It was unfortunate that I was recovering from a cold. Firstly, because it was a vacation and I don't like being sick on vacation, secondly, because we were quickly descending into Death Valley and the pressure on my ears was getting painful.

Holding my nose and mouth closed and gently pushing my breath against my ear drums, I cleared my left ear, but it made the sensation in my right ear even stranger and the pain was getting worse.

Against doctor's orders, I again forced my breath against my ear drums, and this time my right ear cleared. At last I could hear, the pain was gone, and best of all we were almost at sea level, 260 miles (416km) from the Pacific Ocean and more than 2,000 miles (3,200km) from the Atlantic Ocean. Crossing Emigrant Pass we had reached an elevation of 5318 feet (1621m), with the snow-covered peaks still rising another 5,731 feet (1747m) above us to the top of Telescope Peak at 11,049ft (3368m), but now, just 45 minutes later, we were down to 5 feet (1.5m) below sea level.

Death Valley is a part of the magnificent landscape of Western North America, called by geologists, basin and range. We were now in Death Valley, a very deep basin. The mountains of the Sierra Nevada, Death Valley, and western Nevada are huge parallel ranges separated by deep basins like Death Valley and the Owens Valley. Together, these make up the basin and range landscape.

The forces of geology are evident here in Death Valley. The alluvial fans which spread out from the mouths of all the canyons, are formed as torrents of rain from violent local storms race down the canyons, gathering rocks, dirt, and sand, which are carried downstream until the waters reach the mouth of the canyon where they spread out, slow down, and drop their heavy loads. Over millions of years, the mountains will be eroded and and they will blend gradually into the valley, leaving small peaks in a sea of almost flat alluvial fans.

Given enough time, the wind can also alter the landscape. It was the workings of the wind that we first wanted to explore when we arrived at the ``town'' of Stovepipe Wells (5 feet (1.5m) below sea level). After pitching our tent at the edge of the campground, we followed the main road to the sand dunes. I've been told that first impressions are deceiving, and my first impression of the sand dunes was all wrong. What I saw was a group of about 10 sand dunes, none of the dunes larger than 5 feet high. I thought to myself, ``Oh great! The tops of the sand dune are above sea level, big deal.'' Reality was a bit different, however. We parked the car, and walked to those 5 foot high sand dunes. Thirty minutes later we reached them, and we discovered that we were in the midst of 60-80 foot (18-24m) high dunes!

The tracks of those who had come before us were visible, we could see where a visitor had jumped off the steep edge of a dune and had landed softly 15 feet below. With our feet we could create rivers of sand that flowed down the dunes. These mountains of sand are the result of winds scouring the mountains, picking up grains of rock, and carrying them to this location near Stovepipe Wells, where the shape of the valley causes the winds to swirl around, slow down and drop their grains of sand. It has taken a mere 10,000 years to create these dunes!

Meanwhile, the sun was getting close to the ridges of the Cottonwood mountains to the west, we sighed a peaceful sigh, and settled in to enjoy the colors of sunset strike the dunes and the Funeral mountains to the east.

All photos © 1998 Rebecca L. Orris