I’ve already started thinking about the next trip. In summer. A decade of work on the book, and I’ve been in the Mojave summer for exactly five days. I need to go and sit and observe and take notes and not flinch from the heat. Probably July, maybe August.
Last year Matthew and I went to the Mojave in late July to look at the aftermath of the Hackberry fire. The temperature was in triple digits. Matthew snapped the photo above as I engaged in the unforgivable act of firing up the computer in the middle of the goddamn desert. Then we decided it wasn’t hot enough at 5500 feet and headed for Badwater, 282 feet below sea level, where it was a comfortable temperature somewhat in excess of the 117 in the shade they recorded up the road at Furnace Creek.
It occurs to me that I weigh thirty pounds less than I did in the photo above, which means I’ll be able to shed heat even more efficiently. Come on, summer.
That’s Teutonia Peak in the background, by the way. I’ve clumb it more times than I can count, except for the last thirty feet to the summit, which is straight up.


