I was about to spend a week in Death Valley National Park at the height of summer, a place infamous as “the hottest place on Earth”. My plan? A 7-day adventure of early morning hikes through rainbow-colored canyons, lazy siestas under shade during searing afternoons, and midnight stargazing in one of the darkest skies in America.
Armed with a wide-brimmed hat, plenty of water, and an intrepid spirit, I set out on a personal journey from Las Vegas into the heart of this beautiful, brutal desert. This is both personal story and guide, packed with practical tips for hiking, photography, camping on a budget, and staying safe amid extreme summer heat.
Day 1: Into the Inferno
My adventure began early on Day 1 as I left Las Vegas at sunrise, eager to beat the heat on the drive. The shortest route to Death Valley is about 120 miles (2 hours) via Pahrump , a small Nevada town that serves as a last outpost of civilization before the desert.
With my air-conditioning working overtime, I cruised west on NV-160. In Pahrump, I filled up the gas tank (fuel prices here are much gentler on the wallet than inside the national park) and stocked a cooler with ice, water, and snacks.
This would be the first of several strategic fuel stops. Gas stations inside Death Valley are few and far between (only at Furnace Creek, Stovepipe Wells, and Panamint Springs) , and their prices reflect the isolation.
Pro tip: always top off your tank before entering the park and whenever you get the chance inside, even if it’s pricey. In summer, you do not want to risk running out of gas in this furnace!
Leaving Pahrump, I turned onto Bell Vista Road and crossed into California. The road became CA-190 at Death Valley Junction – a near-ghost town marked by the historic Amargosa Opera House. I could feel the air getting hotter with each mile descending toward the valley.
By late morning, I rolled down into Furnace Creek, the central hub of Death Valley. A thermometer by the Furnace Creek Visitor Center already read 113°F, and it wasn’t even noon.
This valley holds the world-record high of 134°F measured here in 1913 ! I purchased my park entrance pass at the automated kiosk, $30 per vehicle, good for 7 days (credit card only, as the park has gone cashless ). If you plan to visit multiple parks or return, consider the America the Beautiful annual pass for $80, but for this trip the 7-day pass was perfect.
Midday Oasis: I secured a campsite at Furnace Creek Campground, which in summer operates on a first-come, first-served basis (no reservations needed in the off-season). In fact, Furnace Creek is the only public campground open in the valley during summer. Other nearby campgrounds like Texas Springs, Sunset, and Stovepipe Wells close by mid-April once temperatures soar.
Not surprisingly, I found plenty of vacant sites; the place felt like a ghost town in the blasting heat of July. I chose a spot near a rare patch of shade cast by a scruffy mesquite tree.
By now, the late-morning sun was blazing. I’d planned for this, scheduling all strenuous activity for dawn or dusk. I took refuge at the Furnace Creek Visitor Center (open 8:00 am–5:00 pm) to enjoy the air-conditioning and learn about the park’s geology and history.
The indoor exhibits and the famous digital thermometer display provided a perfect excuse to escape the 115°F midday glare. I chatted with a park ranger, who reiterated the golden rule I’d heard: “No hiking after 10 a.m. in the lower elevations during summer”.
Indeed, Death Valley’s summer heat is lethally intense . Even nighttime temperatures can stay around 90°F (32°C) , and dehydration is a constant danger. I heeded the warnings, guzzled water from the bottle I kept in my cooler (still blessedly cold with ice), and planned a relaxed afternoon.
By late afternoon, I ventured out for my first Death Valley sightseeing. The sun’s ferocity began to ease ever so slightly around 6:00 pm, casting long shadows across the rust-colored hills.
I drove 17 miles south on Badwater Road for an evening visit to Badwater Basin, the lowest point in North America at 282 feet below sea level. The drive was surreal – a broad salt-flat basin ringed by towering mountains. I stepped out at the Badwater parking lot and was greeted by a blast of hot wind, like opening an oven door.
A short walk took me onto the salt flats, which stretched like a pale mirage to the horizon. I didn’t venture too far; even in early evening it was over 100°F, and signage warns against walking out long distances in summer. The landscape was otherworldly – hexagonal salt polygons underfoot, and a sign high up on the cliff face behind me marking “Sea Level.”
As the sun dipped behind the Panamint Range, the salt flats glowed with soft pastel hues. I snapped photos of the crystalline salt patterns with the golden light reflecting off them. Hydration check: I made sure to drink water continuously; in this arid heat you can never let your guard down on fluids.
On the leisurely drive back, I detoured through Artist’s Drive, a spectacular 9-mile one-way loop snaking through multi-colored badlands. The highlight, Artist’s Palette, appeared in shades of green, pink, and purple on the hillsides – oxidized minerals painted by nature.
We drove this loop during the golden hour when the angled light made the colors pop even more (midday is fine too, though evening is ideal). The road itself was a fun rollercoaster of dips and turns. Emerging near dusk, I felt the excitement building for my first desert night.
Back at Furnace Creek, darkness fell around 8:30 pm. The sky turned a deep indigo and stars exploded into view. Death Valley is a certified Gold Tier Dark Sky Park , and I quickly understood why – with zero light pollution in the valley, the Milky Way formed a bright white brushstroke across the heavens. I laid out on a picnic blanket by my tent, the air still warm (around 95°F at 10 pm) and very dry.
Above me, Scorpio and Sagittarius hovered, and I could clearly see the Milky Way’s dense core. I had never seen stars this vivid. For an even better view, I drove a few minutes to the ruins of Harmony Borax Works near Furnace Creek – one of the recommended stargazing spots away from any lights. Standing by the old borax wagons under a cosmic sky was a spiritual experience.
I set up my camera for a couple of long exposures, capturing star trails swirling above the silhouette of the mining ruins. With a full heart, I crawled into my tent well after 11 pm, letting the desert breeze lull me to sleep. My first day ended not with the sun’s blaze, but with a billion desert stars.
Day 2: Sunrise at Zabriskie Point
Despite the warm night, I woke at 4:30 am on Day 2, determined to catch a legendary Death Valley sunrise. I broke camp in the pre-dawn darkness (packing plenty of water and a few granola bars) and drove 5 miles to Zabriskie Point, arriving around 5:00 am.
Even at this hour the air was in the high 80s °F, but the absence of sun made it feel pleasant. I joined a few other hardy souls at the viewpoint. As the sun crested the eastern mountains around 5:30 am, it unveiled a breathtaking panorama: the rippled badlands of golden sandstone at Zabriskie lit up in fiery hues of orange and gold, while the Panamint Mountains across the valley blushed in soft pink alpenglow.
Manly Beacon – the pointed peak at the center of the badlands – caught the first light and practically glowed (see image below). I was awestruck, camera clicking furiously. It’s true what photographers say: Zabriskie Point is absolutely magical at sunrise, with the angled light and shadows accentuating every ridge.
After soaking in dawn at Zabriskie, I set off on a morning hike while it was still relatively cool (low 90s °F by 7:00 am). I chose the Golden Canyon Trail, one of Death Valley’s classic hikes that begins just down the road from Zabriskie. By starting early, I aimed to finish before the brutal late morning heat.
Golden Canyon lived up to its name – as I walked into the narrows, the walls around me gleamed honey-yellow, reflecting the rising sun. I followed the canyon trail about 1.5 miles to the formation called Red Cathedral, marveling at the high vertical walls streaked with red oxidized minerals. The beauty of hiking here in early morning is the light: the canyon literally glowed, and I felt like I was inside a giant gold geode.
I sipped water regularly from my hydration pack (a must for hiking – carrying at least 2 liters). Even at 8 a.m., I found myself sweating considerably in the still air.
Heat caution: Park signs at the trailhead explicitly warn “Do not hike after 10 AM” during summer , and I understood why – by the time I was heading back (around 9:30), the sun was starting to beat directly into the canyon and the temperature was climbing fast toward the triple digits.
I encountered a pair of hikers just setting out and gently advised them to turn around by 10 a.m. at the latest. Death Valley’s dry heat can be deadly – by the time you feel thirsty or dizzy, you’re already dehydrated. In fact, rangers recommend at least one gallon (4+ liters) of water per person per day here , and to eat salty snacks or electrolyte drinks to replenish what you sweat out.
I paused in a patch of shade to drink and nibble some trail mix (the salt helps with electrolyte balance). It’s critical to listen to your body – any sign of headache, dizziness or nausea means stop, find shade, and hydrate immediately. Fortunately, I felt good, just very hot, as I made it back to my car by 10 a.m.
For the rest of the late morning and midday, I followed the wise advice to avoid exertion during peak heat (10 am – 4 pm). After the hike, I retreated to the Furnace Creek Ranch area (also known as The Oasis at Death Valley). Here, I indulged in one of the best summer hacks: a pool break!
The privately run Fiddlers’ Campground (adjacent to the Ranch) offers campers access to the resort’s spring-fed swimming pool and showers for a $10 day-use fee. I paid at the Ranch lobby and spent a glorious hour floating in the large pool, gazing up at palm trees – an almost decadent pleasure in the middle of the desert.
The water is fed from natural warm springs, so it’s not cold, but it was still immensely refreshing compared to the outside air. This respite in cool water and shade felt life-saving; staying cool whenever possible is crucial in Death Valley’s summer.
If a pool isn’t your thing, you can also linger over lunch in the air-conditioned restaurants at Furnace Creek or Stovepipe Wells, or browse the visitor center/museum – anything to stay out of the afternoon sun. I grabbed a quick lunch at the ranch’s café (downing multiple glasses of iced lemonade) and then found a quiet corner at the visitor center to journal my morning while rehydrating.
Sunset Ascent: As the afternoon waned, I planned a special sunset excursion. Around 5:30 pm, I set out for Dante’s View, one of the highest accessible points in the park at 5,475 feet. Dante’s View is about an hour’s drive from Furnace Creek, heading east on CA-190 and then up a 13-mile spur road that climbs into the Black Mountains.
The temperature dropped with every thousand feet of elevation – by the time I reached the top around 6:30 pm, it was a pleasant ~80°F with a breeze (a huge relief from the 110°F down below). I hiked a short trail along the ridge to find a perfect overlook spot.
From Dante’s View, all of Death Valley sprawled below me, a vast tapestry of salt flats, dunes, and mountains. Far beneath, Badwater Basin gleamed white, directly almost a mile below my feet in elevation difference! As the sun sank in the west, the Panamint Mountains across the valley were set aflame with orange light. Behind me to the east, the sky turned a gentle gradient of pink and purple.
Dante’s View faces west, offering an incredible panorama for sunset and even for stargazing later. I took a panorama photo of the entire valley turning blue and gold in the twilight. Standing there, I felt tiny and humbled – it’s a moment I’d advise every visitor to experience.
Note: The road to Dante’s is paved and fine for any car, but it is steep; ensure your vehicle is in good shape and be cautious of overheating your engine on the climb – I turned off the AC and went up slowly, as the climb is tough on cars in extreme heat.
Darkness fell as I drove back down from Dante’s View. The temperature rose again when I returned to the valley floor – a blast of hot air greeted me at 9 pm back at camp. On this moonless night, I decided to join a Ranger-led stargazing program that was scheduled at 9:30 pm by the Mesquite Flat Sand Dunes (check the park’s calendar for such events; they often hold summer night sky talks).
Under guidance of a ranger with a laser pointer, we identified constellations and even caught sight of a shooting star or two. I learned some handy star tips: for example, use a red headlamp or flashlight when stargazing (to preserve your night vision) , and give your eyes at least 30 minutes to adjust to full darkness.
The ranger pointed out that Badwater Basin – being low and enclosed – actually blocks some of the sky by the mountains, whereas a higher open area like Dante’s View or the dunes provides a fuller dome of stars. Around 11 pm I returned to Furnace Creek for the night.
Tomorrow, I’d be leaving the low valley to seek cooler heights, but the first two days had already given me a lifetime’s worth of Death Valley’s extremes: blazing days and starry nights.
Day 3: Climbing to Cooler Heights
By Day 3, I was acclimating (somewhat) to the rhythm of desert life: up before dawn, active in the morning, rest in shade midday, explore again in late day. Today’s plan was to move camp to a higher elevation for a couple of nights, both to escape the worst heat and to position myself for a big hike.
I broke camp at Furnace Creek just after sunrise (6 a.m.), bidding farewell to the palm oasis. Before leaving the Furnace Creek area, I made sure to refill my water containers at the visitor center’s water bottle filling station (water is available at only a few spots like Furnace Creek, Stovepipe Wells, and Panamint Springs – use them whenever you can ).
I also topped up my car’s gas tank at the Furnace Creek gas station despite the steep price per gallon – it’s best to have as much fuel as possible when venturing to the park’s more remote areas. My destination was Wildrose Campground in the Panamint Mountains, roughly 50 miles away, but I had several stops planned along the way.
Leaving Furnace Creek, I headed northwest on CA-190. The road passed the Mesquite Flat Sand Dunes near Stovepipe Wells around 8 a.m., so I couldn’t resist a quick stop for the dunes in the beautiful morning light. The Mesquite Dunes rise in silky waves right near the main road, backdropped by the purple mountains.
I wandered a short distance onto the sand – it was already warming up, but the dramatic shadows of morning still etched every ripple in sharp relief. These dunes are known for their sunrise and sunset beauty, and even at this hour a few photographers were out, capturing the curves and textures in the soft light.
If you have time (and start very early), hiking to the highest dune (1 mile one-way) is a fun scramble, but heed the sign that hiking is not advised after 10 AM in summer. I was off the dunes by 9:00 am, when the sand had become hot to the touch (in midday sun, dune sand can literally burn your feet or even melt shoes!).
Before departing Stovepipe Wells village, I popped into the general store for a cold drink and glanced at the thermometer outside – already 102°F. Time to gain some altitude!
My car labored up the winding road toward Emigrant Pass. The two-lane blacktop climbed from near sea level at Stovepipe to about 5,300 feet at the pass, in about 20 miles. The engine hummed steadily; I kept an eye on the temperature gauge (climbing these grades in extreme heat is taxing on vehicles – turning off AC and slowing down on steep parts helps avoid overheating ).
On the way up, I pulled over at Emigrant Campground, a small roadside camp at ~2,100 ft elevation. Emigrant is a free, tents-only campground with about 10 sites and a water spigot. It was deserted at this time of year.
I stretched my legs and took in the view – already the air felt a bit cooler than the valley floor, and Joshua trees dotted the surrounding hills. Emigrant would be an okay overnight stop in a pinch (especially in summer since it’s higher up and has water), but my goal lay further up the mountains.
At Emigrant Pass, I left CA-190 and turned south onto the Wildrose Canyon Road. This paved byway leads to some of Death Valley’s high-country treasures. After about 8 miles, I reached a turn-off for Father Crowley Vista, a stunning overlook of Rainbow Canyon and the western expanse of the park. I parked and walked to the viewpoint on a cliff’s edge.
The landscape here is totally different – volcanic cliffs dropping into a colorful canyon, with the vast Panamint Valley visible beyond. A bonus: this canyon is known as “Star Wars Canyon” among military aviation enthusiasts; fighter jets occasionally train through here at high speeds. I didn’t see any today, but the panoramic view itself was rewarding.
Continuing on, I drove into upper Wildrose Canyon, where pinion pines and junipers began to appear – real trees at last! By midday I arrived at Wildrose Campground (elevation ~4,100 ft). This campground, nestled in a picturesque canyon grove, felt like paradise after days in the furnace below.
The temperature here was in the high 80s °F – almost 20 degrees cooler than Furnace Creek at the same time. Wildrose Campground has 23 sites and operates free, first-come-first-served year-round. It is more primitive than Furnace Creek (pit toilets, picnic tables, fire rings, and potable water available via a hand pump or faucet) – a welcome surprise, since I’d heard some high camps have no water.
I found a lovely spot with a view of the canyon and set up my tent in the dappled shade of a juniper tree. Only a couple other campsites were occupied; on this weekday, it was peacefully quiet. Wildrose is known to rarely fill up except possibly on holiday weekends.
In summer, the park even recommends these higher campgrounds as a way to escape the worst heat. Indeed, sitting at my picnic table in the early afternoon, I actually felt a cool breeze and noticed some wildflowers still blooming by the creek – a mini oasis of life above the desert floor.
I spent the hot mid-afternoon relaxing at Wildrose, reading under the shade and enjoying the novel sensation of not sweating profusely. I also took inventory of my gear for the next day’s big hike (more on that soon) and ate a hearty lunch of canned tuna and fruit. Around 5:00 pm, with the sun lowering, I embarked on a short but dramatic excursion further up the canyon: a visit to the historic Wildrose Charcoal Kilns.
A narrow paved road continued about 7 miles beyond the campground, winding ever higher into the pines. The last 2 miles turned to well-graded gravel as I approached the kilns at nearly 7,000 feet elevation. The Wildrose Charcoal Kilns are ten beehive-shaped stone structures built in 1877 to turn wood into charcoal for use in smelting ore.
They are incredibly well-preserved, and as I strolled among these 25-foot-tall stone “beehives” in the golden evening light, I felt like I’d stepped back in time. The scent of piñon pine wood still faintly lingers inside them. I also noticed it was much cooler up here – probably in the 70s °F with a light mountain breeze. I pulled on a light long-sleeve shirt for the first time in days.
From a hill near the kilns, I watched the sunset paint the Panamint range in soft orange and pink. I realized I had a cell signal here (a rarity in Death Valley), likely due to line-of-sight to towns west – a good thing to note for safety, though I mostly kept my phone off, relishing the disconnect.
That night, I decided to stay up late for a special stargazing session. With the new moon sky, I had read that the charcoal kilns area offers phenomenal star views (and even an International Space Station sighting if timed right ). I wasn’t disappointed. I laid out a blanket near the kilns around 10 pm.
The scene was straight out of a dream: the Milky Way arched overhead like a glittering banner, and incredibly, the interiors of a couple of kilns glowed gently – some fellow campers had placed lanterns inside, creating a surreal, friendly jack-o’-lantern effect. It was dark, so dark that I could see structure in the Milky Way with my naked eyes.
I recalled some night sky tips I’d learned: pick an open area (here at 7,000 ft, the sky was wide and unobstructed by mountains ) and let your eyes adjust fully to see the most stars. I counted a few satellites drifting among the constellations. In the utter silence, a sudden coyote howl echoed from below – an eerie, beautiful sound reminding me I wasn’t alone in these wild mountains.
I set up my DSLR on a tripod to attempt some astrophotography. Aiming at the Milky Way core above the kilns, I used a wide-angle lens (set to f/2.8) and a 20-second exposure at ISO 3200.
The result? A brilliant image of the Milky Way with the foreground of the stone kilns softly lit – one of my favorite photos of the trip. Pro tip: If you plan on night photography, bring a sturdy tripod and a remote shutter or timer (to avoid camera shake), and practice manual focusing on stars (auto-focus won’t work in the dark).
Avoid changing lenses in the field if it’s windy or dusty – Death Valley has plenty of both, and you don’t want sand getting on your sensor. I had pre-mounted my fastest wide lens earlier in the day and stuck with it, which saved me fumbling in the dark and protected my camera from grit. Around midnight, I crawled into my sleeping bag (for once, the air was actually cool enough at 4,100 ft that I needed a light blanket by early morning!).
Above, the Milky Way still glimmered. What a privilege to experience such a night. Tomorrow would be the most challenging day of the trip – summiting Telescope Peak – so I set my alarm for 4:30 am and drifted off to the howl of a distant coyote.
Day 4: Touching the Sky at 11,000 Feet
Alarm at 4:30 am. I woke up groggy but excited on Day 4 – it was summit day. My goal was to climb Telescope Peak, the highest point in Death Valley National Park at 11,049 feet, which towers over the valley.
This 14-mile round-trip hike is strenuous on any day, but tackling it in July required extra care. The reward? Panoramic views of both the lowest point in North America (Badwater Basin) and Mt. Whitney (the highest point in the contiguous U.S.) in one gaze, if the skies were clear.
I broke camp in the pre-dawn darkness and drove up the road past the charcoal kilns to the Mahogany Flat campground/trailhead (8,200 ft elevation). Road note: The last 1.5 miles to Mahogany Flat are unpaved and steep, requiring high clearance; I managed carefully in my SUV, but many people park at a lower lot by the Charcoal Kilns (where pavement ends) and hike an extra 2 miles.
By 5:30 am, gray dawn light was creeping in, and I hit the trail armed with 4 liters of water, plenty of snacks, and layers of clothing – I actually expected cool conditions up high, a far cry from the 100°+ furnace below.
The Telescope Peak trail was a revelation. As I ascended through a forest of limber pines, the early sun sent God-rays over distant valleys. Wildflowers – yes, wildflowers in July! – dotted the slopes in patches of yellow and purple where snowmelt moisture lingered.
The temperature was in the 60s °F on the ridge; I felt invigorated hiking in cool mountain air for the first time in days. After about 2 miles, I reached a ridgeline and caught my breath at an awe-inspiring sight: the entire sweep of Death Valley to my east, and the equally vast Panamint Valley to my west. Far below, Badwater’s white salt pan was visible, and it boggled my mind that it was nearly 11,300 feet below me vertically.
I pressed on, following switchbacks up the final steeper cone of Telescope Peak. By 9:00 am, I stood at the summit. I whooped with joy – in the distance to the northwest I could see a faint outline of the Sierra Nevada; Mt. Whitney (14,505 ft) was out there, though some haze partially obscured it.
To the east, the entire length of Death Valley spread out, with tiny dots that I knew were roads and outposts like Furnace Creek. It was a perfect summit moment: clear, cool (around 55°F on top, I needed a jacket), and utterly peaceful. I had a quick snack and made sure to sign the summit register.
This high up, it’s easy to forget the heat dangers of the lower elevations – but they were ever-present in my mind, seeing those sun-baked valleys below. I knew I had to descend before it got too late.
The trek back down went smoothly, though by the time I got back to Mahogany Flat around 12:30 pm, the sun was high and strong. I’d drunk almost all my 4 liters of water (and was glad I’d carried that much!). A couple of hikers who summited after me looked quite dehydrated; we all agreed the UV intensity at altitude and the dry air really sap your moisture.
I shared some electrolyte powder with them for their water – electrolytes (via sports drinks or powders) are essential on long hikes here, since you lose not just water but salts through sweat.
We also noted how lucky we were to have a calm day; in storms, this mountain can be dangerous. (In fact, Telescope’s upper trail can be under snow until May or June. By summer it’s clear, but always check conditions with a ranger.)
I spent the afternoon resting back at Wildrose Campground. After the big hike, a lazy lunch and even a short nap in the shade was in order. My body welcomed the downtime. Later, I walked around the campground and chatted with a family who had just arrived.
They’d fled Furnace Creek the night before because their tent camping there was unbearable (it remained 100°F+ all night at the valley floor), and they were delighted to find Wildrose a cool haven. We watched a desert cottontail rabbit nibble on some grass near the spring and felt a light evening breeze – simple pleasures that felt miraculous in Death Valley.
As dusk approached, I drove a short way up the road to a viewpoint where I could see the Badwater Basin in the far distance. Watching the sunset from mid-mountain, I saw the sky turn peach and lavender over both valleys. A few lights twinkled 20 miles away at Furnace Creek – likely the Ranch resort – reminding me of the worlds below.
I reflected on how diverse Death Valley is: in four days I’d experienced parched salt flats -282 feet, sand dunes at sea level, and now alpine peaks over 11k. My personal narrative had intertwined with practical learning: when to push forward and when to retreat from the elements, how to find respite in an unforgiving environment, and the sheer awe of nature’s scale.
That night was my second and last at Wildrose. I considered it my “luxury” sleep – comfortably cooler than the valley. I sat by my campfire (a small charcoal fire in the provided metal fire pit) and cooked a simple dinner. Campfire note: Firewood isn’t found naturally here (and it’s illegal to gather wood in the park) so you need to bring your own or buy some at the general store.
Given summer fire restrictions, I was careful – actually, wood or charcoal fires are often prohibited in the summer at the higher camps like Mahogany Flat , so check current rules. I kept mine brief and well-contained. As stars pricked the sky again, I felt deeply content – and exhausted in the best way. Tomorrow I’d head back to the main valley to explore the northern sights and begin looping toward Vegas again.
Day 5: Ubehebe Crater and Rhyolite Ghost Town
I broke camp at Wildrose early on Day 5, bidding farewell to the green highlands of the Panamints. By 7:00 am I was on the road, heading back toward the main valley. Today’s agenda included some of Death Valley’s northern and eastern highlights, and a venture outside the park to a ghost town with an illustrious past.
After descending Emigrant Pass (with one last sweeping look at the desert expanse below), I turned north on CA-190 and then onto the junction for Scotty’s Castle Road toward the park’s far northern reaches. This area had fewer tourists, especially in summer.
The drive was quiet and scenic, alternating between badlands and open plains. My first stop, about 60 miles from Wildrose, was Ubehebe Crater around mid-morning.
Ubehebe Crater is a testament to Death Valley’s volcanic past – a half-mile wide, 600-foot deep crater formed by a massive steam explosion thousands of years ago. I arrived by 10:00 am, and luckily there was a light breeze at this northern location which made the 100°F heat slightly more tolerable.
From the parking area, the view is striking: the crater’s jagged walls of black and orange volcanic cinder slope down to a flat bottom. Despite the heat, I couldn’t resist doing the short hike along the crater rim. I walked the 1.5-mile loop around Ubehebe’s edge, stepping carefully on the loose gravel (it’s like walking on kitty litter due to the volcanic cinders).
The panoramic views from the rim were fantastic – to the south, I could see the smaller “Little Hebe” crater and beyond that, the vast Cottonwood Mountains. The sun was intense, and I made sure to wear a broad sun hat, sunscreen, and sunglasses, and carry water even for this short walk (here, as everywhere in Death Valley, proper sun protection and hydration are non-negotiable ).
After the loop, I briefly considered hiking down into the crater itself – a steep 600-foot descent – but one look at that slope in the scorching sun changed my mind. (Going down is easy; coming back up that sand would be brutally hot and tiring, best saved for cooler months.) I noticed only a couple of other visitors; in this heat, Ubehebe was nearly all mine.
After Ubehebe, I decided it was time to make my way out of the park towards the east. I headed back south a bit, then eastward on the Daylight Pass Road (CA-374) which leads toward Beatty, Nevada. This route is nicknamed the “Ghost Town Road” in the NPS info – and for good reason. Just outside the park boundary lies Rhyolite, one of the most famous ghost towns of the Gold Rush era.
By noon I crossed Hell’s Gate (a pass on the park boundary aptly named as it was 107°F even at 4,000 ft) and descended toward Rhyolite, just a few miles west of Beatty. I pulled into Rhyolite under the unforgiving midday sun, which bleached the ruins in stark light. Even so, Rhyolite was a highlight of the trip for its historical intrigue.
This once-booming mining town sprung up in 1905 and was abandoned by 1916 – a classic boom-and-bust. I wandered among the skeletal remains: the famous Bottle House (a cottage made of glass bottles set in adobe – shimmering in the sun), the crumbling concrete and brick walls of the three-story Cook Bank building (now just an empty shell with arched windows framing blue sky), and the old train depot.
Despite the heat (and the necessity of continually drinking water while exploring), I could imagine the town in its heyday – streets busy with prospectors and a bright red train chugging in supplies. Now, silence and the soft whistle of hot wind prevailed. I was the only person there at that hour, sharing the moment with a few lizards darting across the rubble.
Rhyolite also has an eccentric outdoor art installation at its entrance: the Goldwell Open Air Museum, featuring quirky sculptures like a life-size ghostly Last Supper and a pink lady made of cinderblocks. The surreal art against the barren backdrop made for fun photos.
I didn’t linger too long as the midday heat was near its peak. After about 45 minutes of ghost town exploration, I retreated to my car, blasted the AC, and drove a few miles into Beatty, NV – a small town known as the “Gateway to Death Valley.”
In Beatty, I treated myself to a late lunch at a local diner (and maybe a slice of chilled pie – guilty as charged). I also refueled the car at Beatty’s gas station, which has the cheapest gas in the region (relative to the park) and even EV charging stations.
Overnight in Civilization: Given it was Day 5 and I’d been camping in extreme conditions for days, I opted for a budget motel in Beatty for the night to regroup. Beatty has a few modest, affordable motels that provide blessed air-conditioning, a hot shower, and a clean bed – pure luxury for a desert-weary traveler.
One could also camp at nearby Mesquite Spring back in the park’s north, but that campground is at low elevation and still very hot in summer, and it has no services open if Scotty’s Castle area is closed. So a night in AC sounded much better.
After checking in and cooling off, I spent the evening reflecting on the journey so far and reviewing the many photos I had taken. My skin was several shades tanner (despite diligent sunscreen use), and my boots and car were filled with fine desert dust – all badges of a true Death Valley road trip.
That night, I actually felt a bit chilly for the first time – the motel’s AC was cranked high and my body had fully adjusted to warm nights outdoors! I stepped outside briefly around 10 pm and noted that even in Beatty (at 3,300 ft elevation), the night air was in the upper 70s °F – a far cry from the 90°F nights down in Death Valley’s basin. I slept deeply and comfortably, knowing that tomorrow I’d start the return leg to Las Vegas.
Day 6: Return to Las Vegas via the Scenic Route
I woke up in Beatty on Day 6 feeling both refreshed and a little wistful – this was essentially the last day of exploring, as by tonight I’d be back in Las Vegas. To make the most of it, I decided to take a scenic loop route back to Vegas rather than the fastest highway.
After a hearty breakfast at Beatty’s famous little coffee shop (complete with some last-minute chili fixings from the adjacent Death Valley Nut & Candy store – a quirky Beatty must-visit), I set out on the road around 8:00 am.
From Beatty, I drove south on NV-Beatty Cutoff (374) back into the park one more time, retracing the “Ghost Town Road” but in reverse. I couldn’t resist one more quick stop at Hell’s Gate overlook on the park boundary, where I took a final sweeping look over Death Valley’s basin shimmering in the morning haze.
From there, I took the turn onto Daylight Pass Road and then onto CA-190 eastward. My plan was to exit the park from the southeast end, creating a loop that would take me by some different scenery.
By late morning, I passed Furnace Creek one last time, waved goodbye to the date palms, and continued south on Badwater Road (CA-178). This “most scenic route” back to Vegas, as the park literature calls it , would lead me through the entire length of Death Valley and out the southern end.
Driving Badwater Road southbound around noon, I was effectively chasing the shade down the valley. The thermometer read 118°F outside. With windows up and AC on (I monitored the car carefully on long stretches to ensure it stayed cool), I marveled at how the landscapes I’d explored in the cool dawn now looked barren and harsh under the zenith sun.
I passed Badwater Basin again, now nearly devoid of any people in the mid-day blast furnace. Farther on, I pulled over at Devils Golf Course – a vast plain of jagged salt formations. Even a few minutes out of the car here was punishing, but the spiky salt pinnacles were fascinating to see up close.
It truly looks like an alien world and is named for how “only the devil could play golf on such rough links.” I didn’t stay long – just long enough to hear the eerie popping sounds the salt makes as tiny brine bubbles burst (best heard in the cooler morning, but still audible).
Continuing on, I made a stop at the Ashford Mill Ruins near the southern end of the valley. These are the remains of a gold processing mill built in 1914. The crumbling yellow walls stand lonely against the vast desert backdrop. I imagined the tough miners who toiled here in summer over a century ago – what hardy souls they must have been.
A quick walk around the ruins, and I retreated to my car, my shirt already drenched from even that brief excursion (the southern end of the valley was humid by Death Valley standards due to recent monsoon moisture – the car’s hygrometer showed 20% humidity, which in these temperatures felt like a steam bath).
By 2:00 pm, I exited Death Valley National Park at its southern boundary, taking Jubilation Road (CA-178) toward the small town of Shoshone, CA. I looked in my rearview mirror at the vast amplitude of desert I had traversed. What a journey it had been!
In Shoshone (a quaint village with an old-timey general store), I refueled one last time and then continued on CA-178 which soon became NV-372 toward Pahrump. This drive through the Amargosa Valley was smooth and by late afternoon I was back on NV-160, the same highway that had launched my adventure six days ago. The bright lights of Las Vegas loomed on the horizon like an island of neon in the distance.
Rolling into Las Vegas in the early evening of Day 6 felt surreal – from utter wilderness to bustling civilization in a couple of hours. I checked into a hotel off the Strip (opting for a budget-friendly one that even had a laundry – much needed to de-dust my clothes).
Technically, I still had Day 7 ahead, but I planned it as a simple wrap-up: maybe a relaxed morning in Vegas for recovery and a short drive to return my rental car if I had one. That night, as I took a long shower and then lay on a very soft bed, I replayed the week in my mind.
The experiences felt almost too epic to have fit in seven days: fiery sunrises, midnight hikes on dunes, salt flats below sea level, mountain peaks scraping the sky, historic roads and eerie ghost towns, and a dome of stars every night.
Death Valley in summer tested me and rewarded me in equal measure. It’s not a trip for the faint of heart, but with good planning, flexibility, and respect for the elements, it’s utterly doable and deeply rewarding – not to mention an adventure you’ll brag about for years (“Yes, I survived Death Valley in July!”).
Day 7: Trip Reflections and Departure 🎒✈️
Day 7 was all about transitioning back to the “real world.” I enjoyed a lazy Vegas morning, which conveniently felt mild at 95°F after what I’d been through!
If you have time before departing Las Vegas, treat yourself to a big breakfast buffet as you’ve earned it after a week of trail mix and campground cooking.
As I sipped coffee, I found myself already scrolling through my camera, amazed at the photos: sunrise at Zabriskie’s golden hills, my triumphant selfie on Telescope Peak with valleys in the background, the Milky Way arching over the Charcoal Kilns, and even the comically melted look of my chocolate bar at Badwater. Each image told a story of challenge and beauty.
I took some time to jot down final practical notes in my journal, hoping they’d help future travelers (or my own next trip): “Start hikes by 5-6 am, done by 10. Always carry water, then double it.
Electrolytes are your friend. Rental car AC can and will save your life – but watch the engine temp on big climbs. Shade = heaven. Freeze water bottles overnight (the ice will last half the next day). High elevations are paradise – plan some nights up there.
And when it’s 120°F, even a bandana soaked in cooler ice water around your neck is worth its weight in gold.” I also reflected on the human history of Death Valley I’d glimpsed – from ancient Indigenous homelands of the Timbisha Shoshone to the boomtowns of Rhyolite and Skidoo. These stories gave context to the land’s harshness and lure.
By midday, it was time to head to the airport and bid farewell to the desert for now. As my plane took off over the Mojave, I could trace the faint outline of Death Valley’s colossal sandbox far in the distance. I smiled, knowing I had conquered it in the toughest season.
My journey was complete – 7 days, 700 miles driven in total, countless memories made.
Below, I’ve compiled some of the essential tips, gear advice, and resources that helped me not only survive but truly enjoy a summer trip through Death Valley.
Tips for a Safe Desert Adventure
Death Valley’s summer climate is no joke. But with smart strategies, you can adventure safely even in July/August. Here are key heat-beating tips I learned (sometimes the hard way), endorsed by park rangers and seasoned desert travelers:
- Plan Around the Heat: Do outdoor activities at dawn and dusk. Absolutely avoid hiking in lower elevations after 10 a.m. during summer. From roughly 10am to 4pm, temperatures routinely exceed 110–120°F (43–49°C) . Use that time to rest in shade, drive in AC, or enjoy indoor spots (visitor center, restaurants). Many sights can be viewed from your car or short walks from it – e.g. Artist’s Palette, Devil’s Golf Course, Zabriskie Point (short paved path) – so you can sightsee “from the safety of your car” during peak heat.
- Hydration, Hydration, Hydration: In extreme dry heat, you will dehydrate quickly. Drink water constantly, even if you don’t feel thirsty. Aim for at least 1 gallon (4 liters) of water per person per day – more if hiking. I kept a cooler of ice-water bottles and refilled a insulated flask with cold water before each hike. Electrolytes are crucial too – drink sports drinks or add electrolyte tablets to water to replace salts lost in sweat. I often alternated water and Gatorade. Avoid alcohol and excessive caffeine, which worsen dehydration. Recognize early signs of heat illness: headache, dizziness, nausea, cramping – if these hit, stop immediately, get to shade/AC, and cool down with sips of water.
- Sun Protection: The sun here is extremely intense. Wear high-SPF sunscreen (and reapply often – I reapplied every 2 hours) and lip balm with SPF. Dress in lightweight, light-colored long sleeves and long pants (ideally moisture-wicking fabric) – it seems counterintuitive, but covering up prevents sunburn and actually keeps you cooler by reducing direct sun on skin. I lived in a thin white long-sleeve hiking shirt and breathable hiking pants. A wide-brimmed hat (or even an umbrella for shade) and good sunglasses are mandatory . Consider a neck gaiter or bandana you can wet – I’d soak mine in the cooler meltwater and drape it over my neck; as it evaporated it cooled me down significantly.
- Heat and Your Car: The distances in Death Valley are long and help is far away, so take care of your vehicle. Fill up on gas whenever you can – stations are only at Furnace Creek, Stovepipe Wells, and Panamint Springs inside the park (all charge high prices, so better to fill in Pahrump or Beatty beforehand ). Ensure your tires are in good condition and properly inflated (carry a spare and know how to change it – hot pavement can be tough on tires). When driving up steep passes in extreme heat, turn off your A/C if your engine is straining to avoid overheating ; I did this climbing Towne Pass and Dante’s View. Carry extra water for your car too – radiator water is available at Stovepipe Wells if needed. And never, ever drive off paved roads in summer unless you are fully prepared for potential breakdown – cell service is nonexistent in most areas and you must be ready to self-rescue . I carried 2 gallons of extra water in my trunk at all times just in case.
- Midday Cooling Tricks: If you have downtime at camp in the heat, create a bit of shade with a reflective tarp or emergency blanket over your tent. I often soaked a T-shirt or cooling towel in water and draped it on me – in the arid air, it cools you as it evaporates. Taking a dip in the resorts’ pools (Furnace Creek Ranch’s pool via Fiddler’s Campground, or even a day-use fee at the pool in Stovepipe Wells if available) can be a trip-saver. Lastly, listen to your body – if you’re feeling weak or overheated, don’t try to be a hero. Get to an air-conditioned space or pour water on yourself and rest. Rangers say most summer emergency rescues are for heatstroke or people pushing beyond safe limits.
Death Valley in summer will test you, but with these precautions it won’t break you. In short: be an early bird and a night owl, drink water like it’s your job, cover up, and respect the sun. The reward is having this vast, otherworldly park nearly to yourself, under conditions that forge unforgettable memories.
Photography & Stargazing Tips
For photography enthusiasts and stargazers, Death Valley is a dream – just plan carefully around the elements. Some pointers to get the best shots (and keep your gear safe):
- Golden Hours are Golden: The park’s landscapes are at their most photogenic during sunrise and sunset. Midday sun is harsh, creating washed-out photos (not to mention heat haze). Plan your iconic shots for early or late. Sunrise ideas: Zabriskie Point (incredible golden hues on the badlands) , Dante’s View (sunrise light hitting Telescope Peak and Badwater below) , Mesquite Dunes (ripples and long shadows). Sunset favorites: Dante’s View (faces west – you’ll see the valley glow) , Zabriskie Point (the badlands catch late light and “blue hour” after sunset is gorgeous) , Badwater Basin (reflections in any shallow water or stark contrast of salt polygons), and Artist’s Palette (best with some sun, so go while sun is still up but low). Note the orientation: Zabriskie and Dante’s faces west – great for sunset colors on the landscape, but at sunrise the sun rises behind you there, illuminating the Panamint Mountains across the valley. Both times are great, just know where the light will be.
- Night Sky Mastery: With virtually no light pollution, Dark Sky Park conditions mean you can see and photograph the Milky Way with ease on clear, moonless nights. New Moon periods are best for stars (check a lunar calendar). Some of the best stargazing spots include Mesquite Flat Dunes, Harmony Borax Works, Badwater Basin, and Ubehebe Crater – basically anywhere away from the few lights of Furnace Creek or Stovepipe Wells. I loved the dunes for the foreground of ripples, and the Wildrose area (higher elevation yields even crisper sky). When stargazing, avoid nearby artificial lights (even car headlights briefly ruin your night vision) and use a red flashlight if needed. Give your eyes at least 30 minutes to adjust fully to darkness – you’ll be amazed how many more stars come into view.
- Astrophotography Basics: Bring a sturdy tripod – mandatory for sharp long exposures. A wide-angle lens (14-24mm range) with a fast aperture (f/2.8 or lower) will capture sweeping Milky Way shots. Use manual settings: high ISO (1600–3200 as a starting point), wide open aperture, and shutter speed around 15–25 seconds (any longer and star trails start unless you’re going for star trails). Use manual focus – autofocus won’t lock in the dark; pre-focus at infinity during daylight or on a bright star using live view. A remote shutter release or at least using your camera’s 2-second timer helps prevent shake. One trick: If you want foreground illuminated (like me placing a lantern in a kiln), you can “light paint” briefly with a flashlight or take a separate shorter exposure for the foreground and blend in post-processing. Importantly, be mindful of park rules – no light painting or drone use if it disturbs others or wildlife, and note that you cannot camp overnight at most viewpoints or along roadsides (plan to stargaze and then drive back to your camp or lodging). In summer, nights are warm (70s–80s°F) so you won’t get cold, but at higher elevations bring a light jacket.
- Protecting Your Gear: Death Valley is dusty. Fine sand gets everywhere, and there’s often wind. Change lenses as little as possible outdoors – I kept one lens on each of my two camera bodies rather than swapping frequently. If you must change, do it inside your car or shielded from wind, and power off your camera (to reduce static charge that attracts dust). A simple blower and soft brush to clean your lens and sensor each night is useful – I found dust spots on my sky shots that I had to clone out later, despite caution. Heat can also affect cameras: don’t leave them in a closed car under the sun. My mirrorless camera showed a high-temp warning one late afternoon ; I promptly put it in the cooler (not on ice, just in the insulated bag) for 15 minutes to gently bring temp down. Bring extra batteries – oddly, heat can cause faster battery drain (and at night, long exposures certainly do). Carry them in a shirt pocket to keep them from getting too hot or cold.
- Creative Opportunities: Use the unique environment for creative shots. For example, at Badwater Basin I lay down low to get the salt polygons in the foreground with mountains reflecting twilight colors in distant mirages. On the dunes, try late afternoon for stark black-and-white possibilities with strong shadows. Wildlife is sparse in daytime (too hot), but at dusk or dawn you might catch a roadrunner or lizard; have a telephoto handy just in case. Star trails can be amazing here – a 1-2 hour exposure or stack of many shorter ones will show the rotation of the sky, with Polaris fixed. If you have time, time-lapse videos of star movement or shadows creeping across the dunes can capture the passage of time in this timeless place. One important ethic: no photo is worth endangering yourself (don’t push into a slot canyon at noon or wander far onto salt flats in 120°F just for a shot – use a telephoto instead or come back in winter!). Likewise, leave no trace – don’t climb on fragile mud formations or leave footprints where they ruin the scene for others (e.g., many photographers avoid walking deep into the pristine central dunes so as not to mark them up; consider doing the same and enjoy from the edges if others are shooting).
Plan your shoots for cooler times, baby your gear in the heat and dust, and embrace the astounding night sky. Some of my favorite photos from this trip weren’t the ones I expected – a candid shot of my dusty boots by the Death Valley thermometer showing 121°F (a fun memento), and a serene image of our campfire under a canopy of stars. Keep your camera handy – you never know when a coyote might trot by or when the sunset suddenly ignites the sky with colors you didn’t anticipate.
Packing List for a Death Valley Summer Camping Trip
Packing smart can make the difference between a miserable experience and an amazing one in Death Valley’s extreme summer conditions. Here’s a comprehensive packing list based on my 7-day trip, ensuring you have what you need for hiking, camping, photography, and safety. (Check items off as you pack!)
- Water & Hydration Gear:
- Water jugs or bottles totaling at least 4-5 gallons in your vehicle (refill at visitor centers ).
- Hydration bladder (2-3L) for hiking – easy sipping on the go.
- Insulated water bottle or thermos (for keeping water cold – I used a vacuum-sealed bottle and it was a morale-saver).
- Electrolyte mix or tablets (Gatorade powder, Nuun tablets, etc. to add to water).
- Cooler or ice chest (filled with ice – keep it in shade in car; replace ice at gas stations or stores).
- Reusable ice packs (or freeze water bottles to dual-use as cold drinks as they melt).
- Clothing:
- Lightweight long-sleeve shirts (2-3) – moisture-wicking, UPF-rated if possible.
- Lightweight long pants (2) – zip-off convertible pants are great for flexibility. Avoid jeans (too hot).
- Shorts (1) – for camp or if you really prefer for driving, but cover up when in sun.
- Wide-brim sun hat (1) – absolutely essential. (I also brought a baseball cap as backup, but barely used it.)
- Bandana or neck gaiter (1) – use wet on neck for cooling.
- Underwear and moisture-wicking socks – bring extra; your feet will get sweaty.
- Hiking boots or sturdy trail shoes – closed-toe, broken-in (don’t bring brand new boots to a trip like this) .
- Camp shoes or sandals – for letting your feet breathe in evenings (I loved having flip-flops for around camp).
- Light jacket or fleece – it can be cool at high elevations or in AC blast (and for plane rides). I needed a fleece at 8,000 ft at night.
- Lightweight rain jacket – optional but I packed a thin windbreaker that also served as sun layer; rain is unlikely (except possibly late summer monsoon storms).
- Swimsuit – if you plan to hit the pool or a possible oasis.
- Sun & Heat Protection:
- Sunglasses (UV-blocking) – the sun’s glare off salt flats and sand is intense.
- High-SPF Sunscreen (and lip balm) – pack a large tube; you’ll apply liberally and often. Don’t forget chapstick with SPF.
- Aloe vera or after-sun lotion – in case of accidental sunburn, helps soothe skin.
- Misting spray bottle (optional) – I had a tiny spray fan which felt heavenly when misting my face with ice-water.
- Umbrella (optional) – a reflective or UV umbrella to create portable shade on hikes (I saw one hiker with this at Badwater – smart!). I used my ground reflective tarp as a sun shade at camp.
- Camping Gear:
- Tent – a 3-season tent is fine, but one with good ventilation (mesh panels) is key for hot nights. Tent footprint or tarp for underneath to protect from hot ground.
- Sleeping bag or sleep sack – I brought a lightweight summer sleeping bag (rated ~50°F); many nights I used it unzipped like a blanket. At lower elevations, even a cotton sheet may suffice as it can stay very warm at night.
- Sleeping pad or air mattress – ground gets hot then surprisingly can feel hard/cool by early morning; a pad adds comfort and insulation.
- Camp pillow (or use a stuff sack with clothes).
- Headlamps (2) – one primary with red-light mode for night use , plus a backup or flashlight. Extra batteries for these.
- Lantern or fairy lights – I hung a small LED lantern in tent and at picnic table for ambience and convenience.
- Camp stove (propane or liquid fuel) and fuel canisters – if you plan on cooking. Note: open fires (wood/charcoal) are restricted in summer in some campgrounds , so a gas stove is safer for making coffee or meals.
- Lightweight cookware – pot/pan, kettle, plus utensils, mugs, plates (or just eat from the pot to save cleaning).
- Cooler – already mentioned in water, but also for food.
- Food – High-energy, non-perishable foods: trail mix, jerky, fruit cups, peanut butter, tortillas, tuna packets, etc. Bring more than you think – the dry heat can increase appetite for salty snacks. And some treats for morale (I had dark chocolate – which hilariously half-melted – and instant iced coffee packets).
- Camp chair – worth it for stargazing comfort and relaxing in shade.
- Tablecloth or bandana – picnic tables can be very hot to touch baking in sun; cover with something to save your skin when sitting or eating.
- Trash bags – pack it in, pack it out. Also handy for keeping gear dry from cooler meltwater or separating dirty clothes.
- Fire starting kit – matches/lighter (even if you only use stove, a lighter is good to have). If planning campfires where allowed, a small bundle of firewood or purchase in park , plus maybe charcoal if grills available.
- Waterproof container for documents – I kept car documents, permits, some cash sealed in a Ziploc in the glove box. Good against sand too.
- Navigation & Safety:
- Physical map of Death Valley – don’t rely solely on GPS (which often fails or misleads here). The NPS visitor guide map or a printout of routes is essential. Mark fuel stations and water sources. I had the NPS “Routes from Las Vegas” sheet and a Trails Illustrated topo map.
- Compass and/or a GPS device – useful if doing any off-trail exploring (though in summer you likely won’t stray far).
- Emergency beacon or satellite communicator (optional, but if you’re venturing far off main roads, it’s good insurance as cell service is basically nil in most of the park ). I carried a PLB (Personal Locator Beacon) in case of dire emergency.
- First aid kit – include band-aids, blister care (moleskin), antiseptic wipes, tweezers (for cactus spines maybe), any personal medications, and aspirin/ibuprofen. Also pack a small mirror or whistle – signaling tools if you need rescue.
- Head covering – beyond hat, I also used a thin buff that could cover neck/face in a dust storm or protect my neck if sun angle changed.
- Dust mask or bandana – if a windy dust storm kicks up, you don’t want to breathe the fine alkali dust. A simple bandana over nose/mouth or surgical mask would do.
- Multi-tool or knife – always handy (from cutting duct tape to fixing gear).
- Duct tape – a travel miracle: I used it to repair a tent pole crack and to tape a loose side mirror (after some washboard road rattling).
- Spare car key – keep it safe (maybe give to travel partner or hide in car). People have lost keys on dunes – not fun.
- Jumper cables, spare tire, tire iron, jack – ensure your vehicle has these. Also a tire pressure gauge and a small air compressor if you have one (I did, and although I didn’t need it, I felt better knowing I could inflate a low tire). In summer, tires are more prone to blowouts on hot pavement – drive moderately and avoid potholes.
- Photography Gear: (if you’re keen on photos, adjust based on your interest)
- Camera (DSLR or mirrorless) plus lenses: I brought a wide-angle (for landscapes and night sky), a mid-range zoom, and a telephoto for distant features/wildlife.
- Tripod – as discussed, must-have for low light and astrophotography.
- Spare batteries and charger – I had 3 batteries for my camera and needed them. Charging can be done if you have a car inverter or when in motels.
- Memory cards – bring high-capacity cards (or multiple) because RAW files of star shots eat space.
- Lens cleaning kit – blower, soft brush, microfiber cloth, lens solution. You’ll clean lenses daily.
- Camera bag – something that seals well (ziplock or dry sack inserts) to keep sand out. I often kept my camera in a cooler bag when not in use – both for dust and heat protection.
- Remote shutter release – for star shots or group photos. Alternatively, know how to use your camera’s self-timer.
- Filters – CPL (polarizer) can deepen blue skies and cut glare (though in summer the sky may be a white haze midday). ND filters if you plan midday creative shots (I didn’t use mine much).
- GoPro or phone – I had a GoPro for some drive footage (make sure to secure it; I used a dash mount). My phone camera served for quick snaps when I didn’t want to pull out big camera. Don’t forget phone charger and a battery bank.
- Miscellaneous:
- Identification, wallet, park pass (if pre-bought). Note: Entrance fee can be paid at kiosks or even online via recreation.gov. Carry your receipt or pass visibly.
- Copies of reservations (if any, e.g. hotel nights, special tours). Though for this trip, my only reservation was the Vegas hotel; everything in DV was first-come.
- Notebook or journal & pen – if you like to record experiences or need to leave a note on your car in case of side trip.
- Star chart or astronomy app – to enrich stargazing. I had an app (with red-night mode) to identify Saturn and Jupiter rising over the mountains.
- Books or entertainment – surprisingly, afternoons can be long if you’re resting. A good novel or some downloaded movies on a tablet can help pass time in shade. (I re-read Death Valley and the People history book while lounging at Wildrose).
- Cash – bring some small bills. In remote areas, sometimes cash is useful (though major places are credit only now, e.g. NPS stations ). But places like Panamint Springs or a random lemonade stand might need cash.
- Hand sanitizer and mask – for general travel hygiene (especially in 2020s era or if dust).
- Wet wipes – these are a camper’s shower. When you’re sticky with sweat and dust and nowhere near a real shower, a pack of baby wipes can make you feel human again.
- Toiletries – toothbrush, toothpaste, biodegradable soap, shampoo (if expecting showers at some point), deodorant (though it’s so dry, sweat evaporates quickly, honestly). Also include sunscreen again in this list, and aloe gel.
- Towel – a quick-dry pack towel is great for mopping sweat or after a dip. I also carried a small bandana towel on hikes to wipe my face.
- Toilet paper – most campgrounds have vault toilets with TP, but I always keep a roll in the car (in a ziplock to stay dry) for emergency roadside bathroom breaks. Also pack a small trowel if you might do any backcountry business – bury waste 6-8 inches and pack out TP (or use natural alternatives).
- Snake bite kit – I didn’t see a rattlesnake, but I did see one small sidewinder track on a dune one morning. Not necessary, but I had a Sawyer extractor in my first aid kit out of caution. More importantly, watch where you step or put your hands, especially around rocks – snakes, scorpions, or spiders may shelter there. Closed-toe boots help (I also shook out my boots each morning before putting them on).
- Entertainment for drive – lots of miles alone. Download some favorite music or podcasts – though frankly, I spent many hours driving in silence, just absorbing the scenery (and listening for any car issues).
Phew! It looks like a lot, but organizing this gear into a couple of duffels and bins made it very manageable.
Keep a small daypack with your daily hike essentials ready (water, snacks, first aid, hat, etc.), so you can grab-and-go each morning without rummaging. Also, keep an emergency stash of water and snacks that never leaves the car – that’s your backup if something goes wrong.
With these items packed, you’ll be well-prepared to handle Death Valley’s extremes. Remember that self-sufficiency is key – services are limited in this remote park, so carrying the right gear and supplies means freedom to explore safely. As the saying goes, “By failing to prepare, you prepare to fail.”
In Death Valley, that preparation is what allows you to venture confidently into the land of extremes and come back with nothing but incredible stories (and maybe a mild sunburn or two). Happy trails and clear skies!
Final Thoughts
Traveling through Death Valley in summer is an adventure that pushes your limits and rewards you with unparalleled experiences. It’s about finding beauty in extremes – the hottest air, the driest land, the darkest night skies.
In seven days, I traveled from below sea level to mountain summits, from technicolor sunrises to monochrome moonlit dunes. If you’re an adventure-seeking traveler who dreams of hiking amidst otherworldly landscapes, capturing surreal photos, and gazing at the universe from a silent desert floor, then a summer sojourn in Death Valley might just be your trip of a lifetime.
Take it from someone who’s lived it: prepare well, respect the desert, and enjoy the journey.