The Desert is a Harsh Mistress

~ Part 1 ~

(Originally posted by ML on the Hoods Woods Forum, 21 May 2006; reproduced here with the author's permission)

Say “Desert” and most people think of a sandy, barren landscape. And they probably think it’s hot and dry, too. All of which can be true, or not. In the winters, and at night, the desert can be freezing cold. Flash floods can roar through, as can unyielding, grit-filled winds. Sure, some deserts have sand dunes as geologic features, but deep sand washes are probably more common. And more common than sand, really, is a harsh, rocky terrain.

But one truth seems constant: in the summer, it’s almost universally hot and dry, especially during the day. And this extreme temperature and harsh ground can test equipment to a degree unseen in any other environment. Let’s start with footwear—yours, and your vehicle’s.

Here’s a boot:

I’ll withhold the brand name or the model, but suffice it to say they are well-built, respected, and proven. The boot you see in this photo has, on The Lovely Dr. S’s feet, trekked across the Sierra several times, climbed in the Tetons, and klettered around in the Dolomites and the Sudtirol, and has criss-crossed the crest of the Alps in the winter. They, are by all measures, an excellent choice, and I would unhesitatingly recommend them. Yet you see here how they met a catastrophic end—in the Anza Borrego desert.

What did them in? Hot, unrelenting, rocky terrain. In the height of summer, ground temperature in the desert can exceed 180 degrees for hours at a time. The high ground temp in Death Valley was recorded at 201 degrees Fahrenheit. Temperatures like that attack the bond between a sole and the boot itself, and you see failures like this. Even stitchdown construction (Goodyear welts, exceedingly uncommon today) fall prey to this, as the boot’s sole is often bonded to a midsole with an adhesive. This failure didn’t happen on the first day, but three days into the trip. In addition, the high temperatures soften the synthetic sole, letting the sharp rocks chew it up prematurely.

photo Number two, the author’s Teva sandals:

Again, another well-known and well-respected product. These sandals have served me well for countless stream crossings, river runs, and just general bumming around. Yet here, after five days in Death Valley recently, you can witness the incipient separation of the sole. The ground temperature was a measured 134 degrees F at 11:00 in the morning—and mind you, this is only May, not August or September. The heat transfer through these sandals was such that the bottoms of Your Humble Narrator’s feet took on the smooth, shiny look of skin which has been lightly and momentarily touched by a clothes iron. The point here is to never venture into the desert in the summer in anything less than first-class footwear which is in excellent condition. Even then you must be prepared for for drastically reduced wear and product life, and you'll need to always have some sort of alternative with you.

Photo three—your vehicle’s footwear:

A failure of this magnitude can be the difference between life and death in the desert. On our little Death Valley trip, at one point we were over 75 miles from pavement, and another 31 miles from the nearest services. No cell-phone coverage, and no one to bail your ass out if you screw up.

As with your own shoes, only a fool ventures into the desert on anything but good tires in excellent condition. I don’t know the exact circumstance of this failure, but it’s impressive—and dangerous. Here are some facts for you to consider, though. When driving off-road, especially in the desert, it almost always pays to lower your tire pressure for several reasons. The first is to improve traction. Most vehicles today use on-highway pressures of between 28 psi for cars and light trucks up to 45 psi for heavier trucks. Off-road, you may want to bleed that down to 20 psi, or even as low as 12 psi under extreme situations (soft, bottomless, sugar sand). This is a two-edged sword, and there’s no free lunch here. Air down too much, and you can pop a tire’s bead off the rim. And under-inflated tires run hotter, too. Yet in the desert, consider this: for every ten-degree rise in temperature, you increase your tire’s inflation pressure by about 1 psi. That means if you inflated your tires to 30 psi at 60 degrees back home, and then drive off over a desert with a surface temperature of 160 degrees, you’ll be looking a tires inflated to 40 psi. Motorcycle racers measure tire temperature as well as tire pressure—you’re best off if you measure your tire pressure COLD, and adjust according to terrain and load. Let a tire reach 200 degrees and you’re looking at carcass failure, even if it’s just sitting there with no load and zero inflation pressure—just like we saw that boot and that sandal come apart.

* * * * *

It’s hard for anyone who hasn’t experienced the desert to comprehend how severe it can be—or how beautiful, for that matter. It’s one thing to drive out there in an air-conditioned vehicle, get out for an hour, wander around, get back in the car, suck down a cold drink, and then spend the night in a motel. It’s another experience altogether to spend seven or eight days there, without air conditioning or man-made shelter, when the temperature hits 100 at eight in the morning and doesn’t dip back down below until ten or eleven o’clock in the evening, day after day, and to try and accomplish anything, like a hike or a vehicle repair. But people can do it—if they’re prepared. And if you’re not, you’ll end up as a feast for the scorpions, and looking like a giant, desiccated piece of beef jerky wearing sunglasses.

Warmest regards,

--ML