As senior year and its gravity became my reality, I found myself consumed by pressure of college applications, school, and my future. Naturally, Death Valley came to mind as an escape from my routine. I had never gone camping before Silver Creek’s Death Valley trip. Hikes? No big deal. But camping? That served to be a whole other type of experience. I had never been away from home on my own for more than a day, leaving me anxious to embark on such a pivotal journey. Death Valley, as I’ve found, was not only abundant in its alluvial fans, mountain ranges, and ash trees; it had quickly enveloped my heart and sense of self.
Chalky, rust-colored floors of the valley carried our caravan on countless adventures. Salt flats, canyons, and ghost towns presented themselves as a whole other world that was unknown to the average San Jose youth. Towering mountain walls, its layers creating a spectrum of sediment, allowed my classmates and I to separate ourselves from our usual setting of Silver Creek.
Chalky, rust-colored floors of the valley carried our caravan on countless adventures. Salt flats, canyons, and ghost towns presented themselves as a whole other world that was unknown to the average San Jose youth. Towering mountain walls, its layers creating a spectrum of sediment, allowed my classmates and I to separate ourselves from our usual setting of Silver Creek.
As we explored Death Valley, we were exposed to the birthplace of the Timbisha-Shoshone. Ubehebe Crater, also known as the Coyote’s Basket, was the place where life had began to these indigenous peoples. Coyote, as said by legend, had brought a basket full of people to the earth, and settled where the crater now concaves. These people--the first humans of the earth--subsequently divided and split towards the east, south, west, and north, creating Timbisha-Shoshone settlements. As we dug our feet into its charcoaled hillside, a feeling of history and spirituality prompted us to think about the people who have resided in this land far before our time--the true natives of a place we now all call home.
|
When the sun waned over the surrounding rigid skyline, our activities were soon met by the lucid light of the emerging moon and stars. They did not glitter as if they were something new to us, having never seen a night sky quite like this before, but rather glowed with confidence in the knowledge that they had always been there. Those stars that we spent our nights singing and sleeping under were constant throughout the course of humankind. My newfound companions--people that I probably wouldn’t run into at school--and I congregated around the warmth of the campfire almost every night. That campfire became the hearth of an unspoken respect between us, delving into our deepest fears, aspirations, and theories about existence. Staring at those stars, rather than being afraid of our miniscule presence in reality, we found comfort knowing that even if we were small in the grand scheme of things, we were sharing that experience together.
|