Basecamp at Fiddler’s
November 14–17, 2024. A group of us met at Death Valley to explore mining history, geology, and some genuinely thrilling places. Basecamp was Fiddler’s Campground—close to toilets with a washing station, a short walk to the pool and showers at The Ranch at Death Valley. Between the grocery store, saloon, and restaurant, nobody had to cook if they didn’t want to.
Our crew: Aga and Dariusz, Marianne and Fred, Jessica and Guy, Mike W, Jeff, Lee, Mike R, and Jim. Everyone but Guy and Jessica camped at Fiddler’s. They skipped the steep climb over the Panamint Range and stayed at Panamint Springs RV instead.
Wednesday: Racetrack Playa
Three rigs headed out a day early. After about 60 miles on pavement we stopped at Ubehebe Crater—roughly 7,000 years old and still looking like it happened yesterday. Then 27 miles off pavement to Racetrack Playa. The road is graded and smooth, signs saying 25 mph. Of course you can go faster. What could go wrong?
Racetrack Playa is famous for its sailing stones—rocks that move across the flat lakebed, leaving visible tracks behind them. The mystery of what causes them to slide wasn’t solved until about ten years ago.
On the way back to camp we took Hunter Mountain pass, which added some real challenge after a deceptively easy start to the day.
Thursday: Echo Canyon and Inyo Mine
The rest of the group arrived Thursday. We pushed the Echo Canyon run to noon.
Shortly before leaving camp, I noticed one side of my steering dampener had come loose—the bolt snapped, leaving the Jeep without support. A few minutes with wrenches and the dampener was off entirely. What could go wrong?
The drive up Echo Canyon was pleasant. We stopped at “The Eye in the Needle” rock for photos, then continued to Inyo Mine—one of the richest gold-digging operations in the area. The open shaft was too tempting to pass up. Some of us went deep.
With daylight to spare, we pushed on to Echo Pass for the only real obstacle on the road: a dry waterfall. Not technically difficult for an experienced driver, but a satisfying articulation exercise.
Friday–Saturday: Barker Ranch Overnight
The last two days we committed to an overnight run to Barker Ranch—about 80 miles of driving, 60 of it on pavement.
On the way we stopped at Badwater Basin, the lowest point in North America at -282 feet. Mount Whitney, the highest point in the contiguous US, sits only 85 miles to the northwest. The basin drives the contrast home—nearby rocks carry a “sea level” marker that makes the depth feel real.
We turned onto Warm Springs Road, past a talc mine and Warm Springs Camp. Louise Grantham spent her entire life here until her death in 1969, running the most successful talc operation in the region.
The road climbed to Butte Valley at 4,000 feet. Burros along the roadside, massive views of Death Valley behind us. We passed through Geologist’s Cabin—one of three backcountry cabins available for camping—checked it quickly, and pressed on. It was getting late.
The final stretch to Barker Ranch changed the character of the trip. The last three or four miles took about an hour. Then we were there: the infamous Charles Manson hideout. Late Friday afternoon, nobody else around. We had the place to ourselves.
After sunset the temperature dropped fast. By 6 PM it was cold enough that some of us retreated to tents. The diehards lasted until 8. Overnight it rained, and the rain froze by morning.
Saturday dawned clear. We built a fire and took our time before packing up. The plan was ambitious: down Goler Wash, over to Ballarat, visit the charcoal kilns, hit a Death Valley lookout, check out another mine.
The plan lasted until we hit gravel. My Jeep started death-wobbling at 10–15 mph. A half-hour drive to Ballarat turned into almost triple that. Quick change of plans—everyone headed back to basecamp.
Half an hour into the pavement drive it was obvious the Jeep wasn’t going to make it without the dampener we’d left behind at camp. We split into three groups: Fred and Marianne drove to Ridgecrest for bolts. Jeff, Lee, and Jim ran back to camp for the dampener. Aga, Dariusz, and the Mikes stayed with the car.
Around 4 PM it started getting dark, so we gathered wood for a fire. Fred made it back first, then Jeff arrived with the dampener on his trailer. Rather than work in the dark, we loaded the Jeep onto the trailer and drove back to camp.
At camp I tried to reinstall the dampener—and discovered the entire track bar bracket had broken its welds off the axle. Somewhere out there, at some point, it had come apart completely. The car was done.
Jeff towed the Jeep back to Santa Cruz on his trailer and lent us his rig so we could hook up our travel trailer and get home.
Sunday: Heading Home
We left at 7:30 AM and pulled into Santa Cruz around 5 PM. Everyone safe. No more incidents.
A big thank you to Jeff for the rescue and trailer assist, and to the whole group for an unforgettable adventure—mechanical drama included.