Darkness Over the Land
Michael Collins | Nov 20, 2009 | Comments 5
Too Hot to Handle
The closest I’ve come to Yucca Mountain was when I was in company of Darla, a kindly cowgirl along for the ride. We made our way to the ghost town of Rhyolite in Nevada just a few miles down the road from a giant “low-level” nuclear waste dump. It was operated by U.S. Ecology from 1962 to 1992 outside the town of Beatty on a plain that connects with Death Valley’s eastern border.
The Maryland-based Nuclear Information and Resource Service reports that the dump, 105 northwest of Las Vegas, had detections of “tritium at depths of up to 357 feet below ground and carbon-14 at depths of up to 112 feet below ground in a 1994 study. In 1998, the [U.S. Geologic Service] indicated that a 1997 test found even higher concentrations of these radionuclides in the same area.”
NIRS says confirmed reports show that workers took contaminated materials and tools offsite. In 1979, Beatty temporarily shut down the dump because of waste packaging and transportation concerns. Additionally, the U.S. Geologic Survey found radioactive waste containers buried in the arid sands outside the perimeter of the site.
“What are you doing with that little clicking box, City Boy?” Darla asked me in 2008 as I surveyed the dump area with a high tech Geiger counter that has proven useful in numerous investigations. “If you’re looking for something hot, you might find it at the bordello in Rhyolite and not here at this dump.”
Off to Rhyolite. I had a few silver dollars that were burning a hole in my pocket.
After a lively Western-themed afternoon in the ruins, we decided on taking Titus Canyon on our way back into Death Valley. The 26-mile one-way route begins in the Silver State and ends in the Golden State, dropping down a treacherous dirt road one vertical mile before emerging onto the valley floor. The canyon is stunning, but the white knuckler ride had me sweating bullets.
Darla was cool as a cowgirl. “Well, City Boy, if you drive off the edge, at least we had that little shootout back there in Rhyolite,” she said with a grin. “If you ride down this canyon half as good as you did back there, we’ll stay in the saddle good as gold.”
101 Ways to Die
It’s not all fun and dames in Death Valley. The place got its name from one of the pioneers headed west as part of the Gold Rush of 1849. Though only one person in the group actually perished, upon climbing the Panamints and leaving the valley, a man looked back and said, “Goodbye Death Valley” and the name stuck. This has always struck me as odd, as the Panamint Valley isn’t exactly a verdant utopia. Maybe he just hadn’t looked over the top yet.
It would have taken a lot of moxie to follow in the ‘49ers’ footsteps and I am honored to know a true blood relative of those hardy heroes. Runkle Canyon Radiation Ranger “Toxic Terry” Matheny is in fact the descendant of a Jayhawker, a group of ‘49ers that also survived the tough trek to the Golden State. That may help explain his tenacity in fighting KB Home over building 461 homes in Runkle Canyon on land that may be contaminated from the nearby Santa Susana Field Laboratory.
Filed Under: Blog • EnviroReporter
I enjoyed your post. Regarding Marta Becket, she hasn’t entirely quit performing–she just does it sitting down now.
I’ve had the pleasure of meeting her on two occasions, and wrote about her over at my blog MERE WORDS:
http://chidder.livejournal.com/4132.html
http://chidder.livejournal.com/19300.html
Enjoy!
Kevin
Makin’ Tracks Max,
In 2008, Dawn Wilde and I eased into the Furnace Creek Garage needing to plug a tire and what did we hear? The chunky crunch of Angus Young’s guitar on “Rock and Roll Train.” We asked one of your successors what the racket was and, wild-eyed grinning ear to ear, he shouted “Black Ice – AC-DC’s new album!” Of course we were thrilled as you can imagine after reading “Hell’s Belles.” And we were thrilled that this gent opened the garage and plugged our tire.
That surely ain’t all the pluggin’ going on in Death Valley, reading your witty and hilarious comments here. Your Death Valley tails have the reporter in me wondering what exactly did you do when you woke up with Death Valley Sally? And our imaginations are running away with us trying to conceive of who “The Wall People,” Crazy Carl and the Bongo Sisters are. Don’t leave us hangin’, MTM… who are these folks who make up this wildlife? Inquiring minds want to know!
Regarding your informative response to Marge Brown’s sweet comment, we see that Marta Becket retired from performing at the Amargosa Opera House at the end of the season this year. We applaud her long loving run. Now that Denise Anne has created two dozen characters, with more to come, she could be the Bad Girls In Residence, performing a different girl nearly every night of the week with no repeats in an entire month! I wonder which gal of hers would be the most popular… I’d be tempted to say Dawn Wilde but then Darkness might curse me for eternity which is something I would try to avoid.
Oh, one more thing… Regarding Marge Brown’s comment, the opera house to which she is referring would be the Amargosa Opera House, which Marta Becket started in 1967. Because Marta would often perform without an audience, she painted balcony scenes on the walls complete with painted patrons to watch her. More here: http://en.wikipedia.org/wiki/Marta_Becket
I enjoyed reading your Darkness Over the Land story, or vignettes… I lived in Death Valley from 1979 to 1981. I was a mechanic and tow truck driver at the Furnace Creek Garage. Met some interesting people that way. I also made friends with some of the employees. There were times when there was more wildlife IN camp than outside of it
I sometimes wonder what became of Death Valley Sally, the gal with whom I had evidently slept with in my trailer. I awoke to the sun’s rays screaming through the trailer window early one morning, and there she was, lying naked beside me. Yes, Death Valley has a lot of wildlife. I could tell you stories about Crazy Carl, or “The Wall People”, the Bongo Sisters, etc. One of these days, I’ll get around to compiling my stories, maybe put them on my website (q.v.).
I left Death Valley and moved to Lone Pine, where I lived from 1981 to 1987, then moved to Bishop where I lived until 1992. I have returned to the DV area, including Panamint, Saline, Eureka, and Deep Springs Valleys many times. I have loads of photographs, not to mention unwritten stories… I know the area well: I have backpacked, hiked, and driven my old IH Scout many places where others fear to tread.
If you have any questions regarding “Death’s Valleys”, I may have answers. Appetite whetter: In an attempt to preserve Zabriskie Point, the Nat’l Park Circus in 1941 gouged out a diversion ditch to keep floodwaters away. This resulted in the man-made creation of Gower Gulch, which can be explored today from the Badwater Road.
Ciao, Max.
Michael,
I have heard that there is an Opera house in Death Valley, where Denise could do a multi-woman show. Tickets should sell like HOTcakes.
She certainly sounds (and looks) like an amazingly gorgeous and talented performer. No wonder that your descriptive prose is almost poetry.
With so many different women, you will never become bored. You might get arrested for polygomy, but I am sure you can write or talk your way out of it.
Would that you could also talk Boeing out of their unsurprising but disruptive law suit. Hopefully, by the time they are finished, they will have turned SB 990 into pure gold!