Death Valley, Lowest to Highest Route, 2015
I’m a terrible singer and I suck at math and I can’t dance but I can walk through 100+ degree heat, with not so much a smile on my face, but with morbid elation. I’m not sure why I am this way. I was born in Ohio during the winter and I spent 13 years living beneath a cool gray Pacific Northwest sky.
It’s not as if I’m impervious to it. Crossing the playa in 120 degrees makes me feel like a drooly vegetable with raw feet, but are they feet or stumps now? and my mouth is as dry as the dirt I drag myself along.
You will reach your comfort threshold and then surpass it, over and over.
There is no hash tag or Instagram photo that will capture Death Valley heat. Please don’t underestimate it and proceed with an excellent sense of humor.