Ever since Retracing Panamint Valley's Nadeau Trail, I've wanted to get back into the Argus Range to explore deeper into the canyons and higher along the ridgelines. As always, it seems that my list of things to do around Death Valley National Park grows at a rate significantly faster than I can cross things off, and so for half a decade, other trips have taken priority.
It was my newfound desire - to climb the (accessible) high points of the 15 or so highest mountain ranges around my favorite National Park - that finally bumped this trip to the top of the list. Well, that, and the fact that a good number of park roads were still closed when I was going through my early stages of planning.
And so, we're off to hike to the top of Argus Peak before heading deep into the folds of the Argus Range in search of the secrets they hold. (No surprise, those secrets are old mines.)
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With Spirit Airlines no longer flying between Seattle and Las Vegas due to filing for bankruptcy twice in less than twelve months, we've been forced to find other airlines that charge more than $19 per ticket to start and end our adventures. That's meant a lot more flights from our local carrier - Alaska Airlines - and as a result, more variation in the plane livery.
Alaska Airlines Mickey's Toontown Express livery.
After a few-hours' drive, we pulled into Homewood Canyon at the southern end of the Argus Range a little after 1:00am on Wednesday morning. While that might seem like a late arrival - especially given my desire to start our hike only a few minutes after sunrise - it seemed a whole lot better than how we started trips for so many years: driving for 23 hours with only fast food and fuel stops, and arriving at 3:00am!
Finding a quick spot to camp below an outcropping of granite, we were soon up the ladder and catching a few hours of shut-eye before the baying burros roused us in the morning as sun spilled into the wash.
Breadloaf camp.
"Hee‑hawww, hee‑hawww. Time to get up guys!" -Alarm burro (left) and post-Snooze burro (right).
Still a bit groggy, I put away the tent as @mrs.turbodb completed the important tasks of the morning: pulling out the cereal bowls for breakfast, and making some rotisserie chicken sandwiches for lunch. These sandwiches are a new thing for us - we've previously purchased sliced deli meats - the rotisserie chicken so much tastier, and probably slightly better for us, to boot!
Forty-five minutes later, we were on our way.
Headed deeper into the Argus.
The geology here was fascinating.
One thing I was really looking forward to on this trip were the wildflowers. Partly this was because I've never seen a true superbloom in Death Valley - I started visiting the park in 2018, and the last superbloom was in 2016 - but also because I knew that @mrs.turbodb would really love it. While I've heard that the bloom going on this year isn't technically a superbloom, we did get a nice smattering of flowers as we worked our way up Homewood Canyon, and we stopped to admire a few of the brilliant bunches.
Lupine. (top left) | More California tickseed (Coreopsis californica) (bottom left, right)
In my list of Death Valley High Points, Argus Peak* doesn't seem all that imposing at 6,562 feet. That, along with the length of the hike - about 7 miles roundtrip - lulled me into a false sense of ease that was broken only as we reached the point where we'd leave the wash and start climbing a ridgeline through three false summits, to the top.
It was at exactly that point that my hiking companion - who pays much more attention to elevation profiles - mentioned that we'd be climbing 2,760 feet in the next 2.4 miles. Ouch. Another reminder of why I'm not generally a peakbagger.
* In fact, while Argus Peak is my high point, it isn't technically the high point of the Argus Range. That honor goes to Maturango Peak - at 8,839 feet - on the western edge of the range.
However, despite its impressive stature, Maturango Peak is somewhat of an unknown mountain. This is almost certainly due to the fact that the peak lies within the boundary of the China Lake Naval Weapons Station. As a result, few people ever venture out into this area.
Although the crest of the Argus Mountains is located on the military reservation, the eastern slopes of the mountains are part of the Argus Range Wilderness Area, which is controlled by the BLM. The boundary between the wilderness and the military reservation is undefined; by and large, there are no fences, signs, gates, posts, or anything else here that would indicate where the wilderness ends and the military reservation begins, some maps even listing the eastern boundary of the military reservation as indefinite.SummitPost
Maybe one day I'll venture out west, but I probably won't post about it if I do!
And so, a few minutes into our hike, we were already stopping to catch our breath. Err, I mean, enjoy the ever-expanding views. 
Below us, a sea of greenish-yellow. In the distance, Telescope Peak looking rather snowless.
The first leg of the climb felt the hardest - perhaps because our bodies were acclimating themselves to the pain and suffering they were forced to endure after so little sleep - as we followed a maze of burro trails up 44% slopes. Eventually though we found ourselves 700 feet higher, and into some more decomposing granite formations.
Fins and valleys.
Higher and higher, the Panamint Mountains dominating the horizon.
I really liked this rock formation.
Always climbing, we reveled in short sections of relative flat and picked our way through Class 2 scrambles as we continued to follow the ridge. The only time we really groaned were bits of the trail that descended from a rise in the ridge through a saddle, fully aware that that meant a bit of "up" on our way back down.
Panamint Playa.
As it does, the flora changed as we gained elevation, the plentiful yellows and purples of the wash not yet pushing their way to the cooler elevations. Still, there were plenty of colors to keep us entertained, and we stopped to admire - again, not out of any need to slow our heart rates - on a regular basis.
I really liked the ombre shade of this Desert Dandelion. (left) | Such a smooth-looking* Beavertail Cactus. (right)
* Here, I feel it only prudent to mention that Beavertail Cactus are not smooth. Even when you touch them and they feel smooth - say, by running your fingers and thumb along their surface to feel the little nodules - they are not. Inspecting your fingers after such an operation - should you be silly enough to do such a thing - you will find them covered in the tiniest of needles. Hundreds of them. The cactus seems to spend exactly zero effort in keeping them attached to its pads, which is significantly less effort than you will spend trying to detach them from your skin.
That's my not-a-pro tip for today. You're welcome.
It was just after 9:45am as we maneuvered our way along the base of the headwall of the second false summit. Here, giant granite boulders arranged themselves into a series of caves and slots that seemed to scream habitation. Hoping to find some lithic scatter or artwork on the walls, we poked around for a bit, surprised - even at this elevation - that there was nothing to be found. At least, by us.
Narrow passage.
With that, it was time for the final push to the summit. Here again, a bit of down led to a lot more up, this time with the views expanding over a much wider field of view. Below us, low-frequency booms reverberated up from Searles Valley; our curiosity piqued, but never satisfied.
City of Rocks.
Three hours after leaving camp, we reached the top. As usual, that meant a mad scramble to find the actual summit marker - easy in this case, even for me - as well as the summit log. For reasons I won't get into here, I was curious to see how many names showed up - if there was even a log - and I was surprised to find that since the first entry on February 29, 1992, there were more than 200 pages of hikers!
Argus view.
Just ignore that conspicuous sticker.
With Argus Peak technically outside the Death Valley National Park boundary, a lot of the usual suspects were nowhere to be found in the log. (full log archive)
Foresty fanbois.
Here, 360° views abounded and a light breeze kept the mid-morning sun at bay. If you've just climbed more than 2,700 feet, 10:30am is the perfect time to eat lunch, so we whipped out those rotisserie chicken sandwiches and munched away as we gazed down into the valleys around us.
This was what it was all about.
Huh, wonder what that is out there?
Sierra view.
Towering over Trona.
It was more than 90 minutes after we arrived that I was finally ready to go. I say "I" because @mrs.turbodb was pushing to get underway significantly sooner. She wasn't exactly thrilled as I asked for her assistance - securing the fragile pages of the summit log - as I photographed every page for archival. Even I admit that this habit I've picked up is a little on the crazy side, but for the time being I like the idea of capturing some of what we find out there that might otherwise be lost. I'm sure the first 1,000-page log I find will quickly put an end to all this, but until then, it's just disk space and a bunch of typos.
Working our way down through the summit jumble of granite.
Telescope Peak watched us the entire way down.
The trek down was significantly quicker than the climb up, but I assure you, it was no less painful. While our quads got a break, the bottoms of our feet got anything but, and by the time we reached the wash - in a slightly different spot than we'd left it earlier that morning, we were both wondering which form of torture was more appropriate to wish on our worst enemy.
That's when we ran into an interesting sign.
Huh. 
Picking up the pace a bit, we arrived back at the Tacoma two minutes before 2:00pm, and four minutes before I'd estimated our return. For once in our adventuring lives, we were ahead of schedule! That, or - more likely - the clock in the Tacoma is a few minutes slow.
Doing our part to keep Spiderman and birthday celebrations out of the Mojave.
Whatever the case, it was time to get going. We had quite a few miles to cover along the old Nadeau Trail before we'd be done for the day, and we wouldn't be ahead of schedule for long... I had a few things I wanted to check out along the way!
The Whole Story
We were thinking of driving through this Saturday. The traffic was really bad? Like slow to a crawl bad?
Only "slow to a crawl" for about 1000 feet outside of FC. The rest of 190 was slower due to heavy traffic, but still moving at a good clip.
(edit): and of course, both Stovepipe and FC themselves were zoos. Never went down Badwater, but I assume it would be a dodging-tourists experience!
Hiked for years in small groups all around Tecopa, always said it wasn't a hike until we found a balloon.
Blessing on you for taking out the trash. On my hundreds of hikes in the San Gabriels and backpacking in the Sierras we always carried out trash that other had left. Here in the desert almost every trip to go target practice I haul out a pickup bed full of junk from my favorite shooting spot. Sad that people trash the outdoors. I concur with your mention on the cactus. I have plenty in my yard but the tiny hair like thorns are the worst. Get stuck and they are extremely irritating, you may not be able to see them and they often require a magnifying glass and tweezers to remove them, OUCH! BTW - Hopefully this year I'll get out to visit the Trona Pinnacles and Mormon Rocks, it's a little drive but they look very inviting from a distance! I want to hike them a little while I still can.