Our visit to the Inn, which sits above the Valley floor on a hillside outcropping, brimmed with adventure, due to a very heavy rainfall that sent water gushing, well, everywhere. The town of Furnace Creek was definitely less Furnace, more Creek, last Saturday. Exhibit A:
We gratefully squished-squished into the hotel, still sopping, but found out, due to road closures, that we couldn't leave for any sightseeing. Disappointing at first, but here were the unexpected joys of being trapped by water in Death Valley: Savoring a hot toddy by the picture window that overlooks the Panamint Mountains. Lingering in the historic lobby of the Inn, checking email and reading and listening to the sonorous grandfather clock chime. Corn cakes with peppery chile hollandaise, long naps, a quick dip in the warm, spring-fed pool when the rain finally tapered off.
Also, kudos to the staff who calmly kept it together even as Death Valley started to look like a soaked spongecake and bedraggled visitors sludged up to the front desk, shaken and damp and ready for rest. Not easy, I'm sure.
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