Muddy Footprints: Death Valley's Copper Canyon

I've been working my way through my grandfather's photographic slides and found a whole series from Copper Canyon, located in Death Valley.

The entrance to Copper Canyon (1954)

I did some research on the canyon because I got curious; I thought I knew most of the popular places, having crawled around Death Valley quite a bit in the last twenty years. I soon found out why I hadn't been there; Copper Canyon has been closed to the general public since the 1940s to preserve the multitude of fossilized tracks and artifacts residing there. It's an important find: Mary Leakey herself, among others, visited the area and helped with some of the identifications. My grandparents must have had an "in" with the rangers somehow because there were a lot of photographs of that area.

Copper Canyon from afar. (1954)

Entrance to Copper Canyon nowadays is pretty limited. The park service offers three guided hiking tours a year consisting of 15 people each. You can imagine how competitive those slots are, so they've set up a lottery system for the lucky 45 people. The dates are announced at the beginning of each year, and you can enter your name and number of people in your party by phone about 30 days before the scheduled hike. Needless to say, Mark and I have bookmarked that site and will be calling next year (this year's dates have already passed.)

(You can read about the lottery here.)

The interesting formations in Copper Canyon. (1954)

I'm sure there were much looser restrictions back in the 50's when most of these photos were taken. It was probably less regulated, partly because they weren't fully aware of how extensive the site was. The rules (and fines) have only become more harsh as the black market price for archeological artifacts has gone up. Sadly, the park service has had to resort to removal and collection of some of the fossils found due to "ongoing threats of theft and vandalism" that have occurred there. Actually, people aren't the only threat to the site; the occasional flash flood and the ever advancing erosion are constantly wearing the rock down. Of course, that same action occasionally uncovers some new specimens, so I suppose you could say it's a "wash." (Sorry about that. Desert humor.)

A massive upturned wall of fossilized muddy ground dubbed "The Barnyard" Among the impressions in the "mud" are tracks made by Two-toed camels, horses, big cats, various bird species and mastodon. (1954)

Prehistoric Two-toed Camel and big Cat tracks (1954)

Cat track enlarged

In any case, I'm pretty sure my relatives weren't up to anything nefarious in the canyon. Not only do I not recall any evidence of ancient artifacts lying around their house, I have not been the recipient of vast sums of questionable inheritance money earmarked from shady artifact dealers. All I've got are these old pictures to prove not only that the place exists, but that my grandfather was there doing his best to document these amazing things.

That will have to do until we can win that lottery and go see it for ourselves. I just hope the thieves and vandals leave a little something for us to see.

More muddy footprints. (1954)

Once again, all photos included in this post were taken by my grandfather, Wesley D. Temple.

(Much of the information for this post came from this published survey: http://www.nature.nps.gov/geology/paleontology/surveys/deva_survey/DEVA_Survey.pdf
It's very informative and contains much more than I can convey here--and why should I? It's all there if you're interested.)

The DNA of Adventure

Just yesterday I discovered that my love of adventure and the outdoors is more than just something I share with Mark. Yesterday I finally got a chance to crack open a very special box that was given to me after my father died; it contained some photographic slides taken by my grandfather when my father was growing up.

My 10 year old dad in a tree, 1948.

It started with what you'd expect: some family photos at the beach, a Halloween parade in which my second cousins were made up like scarecrows and princesses, my great grandparents holding their grandchildren. Then I slid open the other side of the box and it was like stepping into my own life, but way before I was even a speck of dirt in my father's eye.

Sunrise over the Panamint Range. Taken from Stovepipe Wells, 1955

Thankfully, my grandfather was much better about marking his photos with dates and places than I am. Almost every slide was notated with the place, names of the people in them and the year. It made it much easier for me to sort them out and figure out who the people were, since it's been years since most of them have passed away.

My great-grandparents were rock hounds. They belonged to the Rock and Mineral Society here in town and loved nothing more than to search the mountains and valleys for interesting specimens for their collection. My great-grandfather would slice them open in his workshop, polishing the nice ones and even making jewelry with the jade and granite he found. I was aware of that, having visited his displays in the county fair and being the recipient of some of his handiwork. What I wasn't aware of was that many items from their collection were found in Death Valley.

My great-grandmother (checkered shirt) and friends looking for rocks and minerals for their collections. (1952)

I was dumbfounded when I pulled out the first slide and saw some of the same scenes I have taken with my own camera: the Panamint Range, the Funeral Mountains, Scotty's Castle, Badwater. And then there were the photos from places I had heard of but have never been: Copper Canyon, Devil's Hole, Sauerkraut Trail out of Scotty's Castle area. These places have since been closed to the public because they contain prehistoric artifacts.

Devil's Hole where the endangered Devil's Hole Pupfish are found.
Today it is barred off from the public to protect the fish. (1952)

Prehistoric Mastadon tracks in Copper Canyon (1954)
The red cap was placed there to show the scale of the
huge footprints in the rock.

Petroglyphs along Sauerkraut Trail, Death Valley (1954)

Back in their day it was Death Valley National Monument. It was a huge tract of land set aside for the people to enjoy, without as many of the restrictions that a National Park designation would require. So it was ok to drive out into the desert and fill your car up with rocks as long as they didn't have petroglyphs on them. I think there were gentleman's agreements that some of the more fragile areas were to be respected, but for the most part it was an open playground. And I'm happy to report that my grandfather and great-grandparents were adventurous to the core.

This photo was labeled: "Ranger Alexander, Petroglyph Rock, Jayhawker Canyon" (1954)

I can't imagine how long it must have taken them to even get there: with today's freeway system and modern vehicles it takes us ten hours of driving at sixty-five miles per hour to reach Death Valley. In 1947 there was no straight-as-an-arrow Highway 5 to speed you all the way down to Bakersfield. They would have had to take a series of farm roads across the valley all the way down, then a smaller highway through Tehachapi Pass. All of this in a big Ford without today's luxuries of power steering, power brakes or air conditioning. Once they were in the valley, they tackled the gravel roads and back canyons without benefit of four wheel drive or special tires. Actually, the more I think about it, the more I feel like a wimp with our leather seats and hoity-toity high clearance and air shocks.

Of course, four wheel drive does come in handy sometimes.
(photo labeled: "Ford stuck in Amargosa River, 1953")
If you look closely, you can see the red cap that was placed near the mammoth tracks in the back window of the car.
In the photo: my great-grandfather (nearest car), my father taking off his shirt and a friend of the family.

There were a few photos of where they stayed while they were there: Stovepipe Wells seemed to be the accommodation of choice for them; it made sense if they were collecting rocks, as most of the geodes and more recent volcanic activity seemed to be clustered in the northern part of the valley. There were also photos of some of the popular attractions there:

Stovepipe Wells Hotel, 1952

Picnic at Scotty's Castle, complete with burro, 1955.
The yellow box says "Kids! Cut out this free action photo!" 
Good to know the cereal box offers were around even then. 

Death Valley Airport, still there today, but I don't think it can accommodate such large planes anymore. (1954)

Signpost in Marble Canyon, 1955

Mesquite Sand Dunes, 1955

I still can't get over the fact that I have been visiting Death Valley all this time without knowing my family's history there. And I can't stop looking at all the photos. It's funny, some of them could have been taken just yesterday, the terrain hasn't really changed that much. But then you notice the cars, and the clothes, and if you're very familiar with the place, slight changes in the attractions. Here's one of those "what's wrong with this picture" shots:

That's right: you were allowed to drive out onto the Racetrack back in 1953, a big no-no today.

The more I think about it, the more it all comes clear to me. It's not just that I'm a tomboy. It's not that I learned to love the outdoors just because my husband likes it. I had no choice, really; I've got dirt and adventure ground into my very DNA.

I can't tell you how proud that makes me feel.



~IMPORTANT NOTE: All photos in this post were taken by my grandfather, Wesley D. Temple. I want to give him full credit because a.) I wasn't even aware he was a photography enthusiast and b.) I think they're pretty awesome, especially considering the equipment available back then, and the challenging light conditions that exist in Death Valley.~

(Another note: I'm still working on scanning all the slides and plan a few more posts using the images. If you're interested, take a look at the blog in the next few weeks--we might both be surprised at what we find!)