Death Valley. In anticipation I had it right. A chance for a few days of sun and no rain and warmth. And we had those things, just not as expected, travel being what it is.

The first of which is that Nevada, true to the Spanish name, is snowy. Just look at the peaks approaching on State Highway 160. Apparently, anyone who is anyone knows that the mountains here are beautiful. Red Rock Canyon State Park being just one example. And there they were, tall snowy peaks, high enough to be above the timberline at the summits. Who knew? And who knew that at 2 PM in Pahrump, Nevada, you can still get a fairly decent Mexican lunch at Romero’s. Which I am glad we did. More on this topic later.

Pahrump, which if I recall correctly went for Trump in the last election, is a strange little town. In Nevada even when there is nothing there, so to speak, that nothingness always contains one or more casinos. And in Pahrump it also includes at least two Dollar Stores. Privileged Bay Area types can easily get snooty or dismayed by such a town. But I had my eyes peeled. Much of America has the feel of this place. Down at heel, no evidence of any community anything. And simmering with resentments under the service. We pressed on.

The drive into the park takes you from about 6000 feet to below sea level half an hour. On the way there is a startling lesson in geology for anyone with a grounding (no pun intended) in the topic. Although I have a great curiosity, I have virtually no understanding of earth science. In fact, I keep consulting my phone and iPad to make sense of the obvious. There are masses of startlingly tan rock alternating with masses of reddish maroon and occasionally the black. Huge lava flows are evident throughout our drive.

And then there are the twists. Masses of rock that show signs of obvious collision. Strata angled downward on one side, pointing up on the other. Not to mention the whorls, rock that has curved as though wrapping itself around something. All this and we are only at the entrance to the park. Zabriskie Point is the first tourist attraction we see. Parking lot full. Tourists walking up and down a short paved path. And it looks like what we have just driven through, maybe slightly more concentrated. Our hotel appears on the right.

It’s been through a name change. But whatever it’s called, it is the official National Park Lodge. Furnace Creek Inn. Oasis at Death Valley. Whatever. The place was built in 1928 by Piute Indians, and it was constructed on a hillside, wrapping itself around promontories and descending in four stories of accommodation and several levels of stonework with small terraced lawns to a swimming pool.

This, and its larger motel cousin down the highway, Furnace Creek Ranch, are boasting a $200 million investment. Much of it sunk into water recycling and solar power. For which I applaud the operators, Xantera. I also applaud the company for surviving global warming. Furnace Creek staged a couple of flash floods in the last 18 months. And there was evidence throughout the hotel. The creek bed appears to run right through the parking lot. And unexpected water had damaged concrete throughout the facility.

People don’t come to Death Valley for the cuisine. But one does have to eat. Which means choosing among things like a $54 halibut entrée in the pretentious dining room. Never mind. From the terrace near our room, watching the daylight disappear over the Panamint mountains was worth the trip alone. And the quiet. In our part of San Francisco noise is a given. It’s an urban constant, a background serenade of I-280, the city tram system and so on. All that stopped. We stopped too. It was great to watch Jane relax. She may have watched me do the same. All this and no problems.

Badwater. It is the lowest spot in North America, and traditionally the hottest. And normally the bad water is confined to one brine pool. But in the wake of recent floods, the low area has filled with a body of water dubbed Lake Manly. This after the Ice Age lake of the same name. Jane waded into the salty shallows. I watched a National Park ranger being interviewed by the Associated Press. Big deal. Climate change.