There is more to Racetrack Valley than just Moving Rocks

Racetrack Valley is justifiably famous for its moving rocks. The rocks are mainly scattered about the southern end of the playa and leave long gouges in the now-hard and caked mud. Some of these paths seem impossible with odd angles and strangely placed rocks in the middle of tracks. Theories abound from the silly (aliens and pranksters) to the scientific. Most of the credible theories revolve around a combination of wet, slick mud and high winds that push the rocks to and fro, in straight and sometimes varying directions. Some of the rocks are large and must weigh upwards of 50 pounds so the conditions must be just so. Of course, there is no record of anyone ever observing this behavior, hence the bit of mystery.

While we were there in April a Czech professor – Gunther Kletetschka – and his assistant were conducting research on the moving rocks. Their research adds a new set of wrinkles to the wind and water theories. I won’t reiterate the details as a fellow photographer I met out there has started a thread and done a very good job encapsulating the scientist’s thoughts. You can read about it here as well as see the photographer’s (Michael Kunitani) wonderful images.

I spent one morning and one evening working the moving rocks. There are a couple of obvious ways to approach the rocks from a photographic perspective: either low and centered on the rock or high with an ultra wide-angle capturing the rock and its trail. The previously referred to photographer has some very good examples of the low-approach, whilst most of my images are of the high-approach. Of course, in retrospect I wish I had at least shot a few as Michael did, but I guess I’ll work that approach when I return to the valley.

Unless you have cloud cover, shooting during the middle of the day will likely not produce a lot of successful images: the light is generally too harsh. Even if you like strong contrast and sharp shadows, stick to the extremes of the day where you can shoot very pronounced, elongated shadows. So, what to do during that late morning to mid-afternoon stretch? Well, I suppose you could sit in camp and drink beer, but frankly I didn’t drive 13 hours to sit in camp.

Like most of Death Valley, Racetrack Valley has seen its share of intrepid miners in the last century and a quarter. The mine sites vary from extensive and obvious to minuscule and difficult to find. In fact, at the south end of the valley there was even an optimistically named Ubehebe City supplied by weekly stagecoach service (hard to imagine how ‘pleasant’ that ride must have been!), but no trace of it exists today. The easiest to see and visit mine site is just a ?? mile or so from the campsites. The Lippincott mine features numerous mine tunnels and shafts as well as remnants of an old mill and a shot-up water tanker. Spelunkers have ventured into the tunnel complex, but for us a short 100 yards or so until it became pitch black was enough (bring a light!). A lead and silver mine Lippincott was in production until the early 1950’s. There is much to see here and a better part of an afternoon can be occupied poking around. You will also enjoy expansive views of not only Racetrack Valley but also of the much larger Saline Valley to the west.

From Racetrack Valley one could drop into Saline Valley via the infamous Lippincott Road. When I ventured down it years ago it was an incredibly nerve-wracking experience with huge boulders and ruts threatening to propel our vehicle into the chasm below. It appears much tamer now as it seems they periodically grade it. From where the road beings its rapid descent you can venture up the hillside due north for a good view of Saline Valley. Continuing on an old track the view opens up even more, exposing the western flank of the Last Chance Range and showing just how long Saline Valley is (~80 miles).??

Returning to exploring Racetrack Valley, a less obvious mine is the Sally Ann Mine. Located in the steep mountainside southeast of the playa, I stumbled around there for the better part of an hour but never could find a trail much less the actually diggings. I did find however the foundation of a campsite with shards of colored glass and bits of crockery strewn about. I also found the old camp dump where the never-very-environmentally-conscious miners tossed their tin cans.

The most rewarding exploration in the valley was my sunset race up the Copper Queen Mine/Ubehebe Peak trail. It was our last evening before heading home the next day and I wanted something different. Fortunately, earlier in the trip, I had purchased Michel Digonnet’s informative and essential guidebook, “Hiking Death Valley.” (Since my return I have also acquired his companion book, “Hiking Western Death Valley National Park: Panamint, Saline, and Eureka Valleys. I cannot recommend too highly either of these books. The amount of detail Michel provides is nothing short of comprehensively staggering.) Though the trail is obvious – it begins at the Grandstand turnout – there is no sign and one could be forgiven for thinking it impossible to climb the seemingly sheer eastern escarpment below the towering Ubehebe Peak. But lo, if one squints upward north of the peak towards a quasi-obvious saddle you can see a series of frightening switchbacks. The book claims that this ascent is “one of the most spectacular hikes in this desert” and though my experience in this region is dwarfed by Mr. Digonnet’s, I would merely add that it was awe-inspiring.

The race was to beat the setting sun so that I could shoot the Last Chance Range’s advancing shadow across Racetrack Valley. It was late afternoon and the 2 mile and 1200’ elevation gain seemed daunting. For some reason I was pumped and though I stopped a couple of times and moved a bit slowly through the last few very steeply pitched switchbacks (there are a total of 36 of them!) I crested at the saddle in 45 minutes. The view below was stupendous. And, indeed, I was able to photograph the shadow to my heart’s content. To the west, Saline Valley was in shadow from the even taller Inyo Mountains. If the sunset had not been a concern I could have continued to climb south to the summit of Ubehebe Peak (another mile away and 800’ higher) or descended a 1000 plus feet to the Copper Queen Mines. But those will have to wait until another visit with more time.

Our final venture was to photograph the Grandstand in the day’s fading light, so I couldn’t tarry on the high divide and instead raced down the twelve hundred feet back to the playa. We brought lights to shine on the aptly named Grandstand (located in the middle of the north end of the dried lakebed) but for me the after-dark experiment of shooting infrared yielded startling and alien-esque images.

It had been 27 years since I last explored the vast desiccated world of Death Valley, but it was pretty clear that I would not wait another quarter century to return: Spring of 2012 can’t come too soon!

28 Miles of Washboard Road

It was 27 years ago that I had last traveled to Racetrack Valley.?? It was a bit rougher in those days: no GPS, no mobile phones, little in the way of signage, only topo maps and your own innate sense of direction (or not).?? We – my wife, our 9-year daughter, and our first golden retriever (Whiskey) – drove in through the northern ‘backdoor’ of Eureka Valley – not yet part of Death Valley National Park (in fact, the park was not yet a park, merely a monument) – via my old rattle-trap of a ’72 International Scout.?? That vehicle had a lot of character and the temperament to match.?? It could drive over anything…or break down trying.?? After a day and night of camping and climbing the Eureka Dunes we continued south past Ubehebe Crater and onto the Racetrack Valley road: 28 miles of mean washboard.

Back then, at the aptly named Teakettle Junction (mile marker 19), we took a detour on the Hunter Mountain Road, where we spent a night in the Cottonwood Mountains with a glorious view of Death Valley, before backtracking the next day to Racetrack Valley.?? Maybe I was just used to bumping along on stiff suspension back in those days, but I have no memories – negative or otherwise – of the Racetrack Valley Road being anything more than long. (Now, the Lippincott Mine Road is another story entirely, though one I’ll leave unsaid for now.) This time it really was a painful 3 hours of bumping and rattling and shimmying along.

But first, we made the mistake of asking at Park HQ in Furnace Creek how the road was.?? I proceeded to get the 3^rd degree from a young ranger: What kind of tires do you have? How many plys are they??? What kind of vehicle are you driving? How many spares do you have? Etc. And then she started laying down the fear-factor: it’s a terrible road; lots of flat tires; big sharp rocks; you’re on your own; no tow service, ad nauseum.?? The road was rocky (small, not big rocks and they didn’t seem particularly sharp either) and washboarded, but beyond that her hyperbole does the Park Service a disservice.?? I understand that they have to deal with lots of boneheads who get themselves into stupid predicaments, but by deliberately inflating the risk of venturing out, they feed into the misguided mantra that the National Park system (read: the federal government) is just trying to “lock up the land.”

We also made the mistake of filling up at Furnace Creek: >$5/gallon!?? But, really, that and Stovepipe Wells are your only two choices for fresh petrol in the Park.?? (The latter is about a dollar cheaper so if you can, fill up there.)?? As we drove north, the air was still quite hazy from over 24 hours of high winds. Why hazy??? The winds created a sandstorm in the Mesquite Flats area that basically completely blotted out Stovepipe Wells Village and the upper Death Valley basin for the better part of a day.?? When you want clean sand dunes with little to no tracks, post storm is the time to wander in the dunes.

If you venture this will you leave the pavement at Ubehebe Crater. But, before you do so, check out the crater and surrounding ash lands left over from what appear to be a dramatic series of eruptions some 2,000-7,000 years ago.?? A nice hour-plus long walk around the rim of the ?? mile wide, 777 feet deep crater is just what you need before the grind on Racetrack Valley Road.????

Slowly we climbed the long alluvial fan to the high point of Tin Pass (4990’).?? This area is rich with Joshua Trees and if the light is right and you can afford the time, a break here to photograph the weirdly twisted and faintly anthropomorphic plants is a welcome reward.

A little less than an hour later and we arrive at Teakettle Junction.?? Legend states that over a hundred years ago a miner placed a teakettle at this fork in the bad road. Tradition has lead to hundreds of people doing the same over the last century.?? When I was last here there were but a few.?? Now? Perhaps 50.

In the distance, some 6 miles away, gleamed Racetrack Valley while just beyond reared the dark southern extremity of the Last Chance Range. This was all familiar to me now: like returning to a well-loved place after many years. Which, it is.

Next Post: Grandstanding and Moving Rocks

Warning: Limited Vision Ahead

I was browsing Facebook last week and one of the photography forums I follow posted an image and requested comments.?? This is quite often an occasion for the fanboys to come out and say how ‘awesome’ even the most mundane of subject matter and composition is. (Surely, ‘awesome’ is one of the most frequently used and least meaningful words in the current vernacular of English. Don’t believe me? Still like to use it in everyday usage? Go to Flickr and type the word in the search bar. You will have over 2 million images of various levels of awesomeness to browse. Have fun!)?? However, on this forum I have read insightful and constructive comments that someone actually put some thought into.

The particular image that caught my attention was of interesting subject matter and was converted to black and white, which generally piques my interest.???? The composition was nice but what I objected to was the existence of an over-large watermark placed in the lower third of the image.?? I’ve already written about the disease watermarkis blotis, which seems to be plaguing so many photographers today. In addition, the photographer had processed the image to the point where the sky featured prominent haloing.?? There is using techniques to complement an image and then there is using it to effect.?? Where one ends and the other begins is certainly subjective.?? I have seen completely grunged-out images that work because the processing is well suited to the subject matter.?? And, I’ve seen the opposite, many times over.

I left a short comment referencing the watermark and haloing and upon checking back 10-15 minutes later was surprised to see a small flame-war between one individual who liked the processing and another who only liked “real” photography. ??The former was of the ‘live-and-let-live’ mindset while the “real photographer” (we’ll call him Mr. RP for short) was condescending, patronizing, absolutist, and quite full of his self.?? His statements became sillier as the thread lengthened.?? For instance, did you know that: HDR is fake; real photographers never have to use Photoshop; unless you are a “real photographer” you are merely a hobbyist; you must have a big camera to be “real photographer” and not merely a ‘cookie-cutter’ camera; if you shoot raw and in manual mode your image will need ‘nearly no’ post processing; if you're not looking to capture the “real thing” you should just steal an image off the net and manipulate it in Photoshop; and only full time photographers have anything of value to say about photography. Really? I did not know all of this. But, good news! Now, I do!

In all seriousness, I thought “this guy has got to be kidding.” I mean, I know a number of full time, and I would say quite real, photographers and they all use Photoshop, Lightroom and various plugins and yes, even the dreaded HDR software.?? But this is all computer gimmickry of course and these folks – who have collectively sold thousands of images and published over 100 books – can clearly not be “real photographers!”?? At least according to Mr. RP. So, I wondered; who the hell is this Mr. RP??? Though he did not list any websites on his public-facing Facebook profile (wouldn’t a real, full time photographer do that?), I was able to sleuth him out.

Navigating through his website galleries, some of his images were nicely composed and some were pretty journeyman-like, if not just plain boring.?? A few series featured nice colors, if somewhat standard compositions. Generally though many of them lacked pizzazz, interest or excitement and would have been greatly aided by the serious use of post-processing tools. Low-contrast, color-deprived images are not necessarily more “real.” They are just low-contrast and color-deprived.?? My goal is not to trash this unnamed photographer.?? After all, his images must be EXACTLY what he wants out of photography, no matter how limited in vision they seem to me.?? However, it is the visionaries in any creative field (be it art or science!) who push the bounds.?? If not for them, photographs would be strictly representational ?? la 1850’s and painting would not have moved off of the cave walls of Lascaux.?? I’ll leave it to Mr. RP to discuss with the ghosts of Messrs. Adams, Weston (all of them!), Brandt, Stieglitz and Steichen (amongst many others) the virtues of the wet chemistry equivalent to Photoshop.?? And, I’ll leave it to others to educate him that shooting in RAW is advantageous primarily because you have the most amount of information to “play with” (not because somehow that format is more ‘real’ in appearance than TIFF or JPEG).

No it wasn’t objectionable that Mr. RP’s vision seemed so limited but rather that he insisted others conform to his “wisdom.”?? Worse than parochialism is uninformed absolutism.?? Expressing oneself in such a fashion says much more about the critic than the criticized.

(Warning: below are Photoshop processed images. If offended, please avert your eyes.)

The Allure of Sand

There is something poetic, majestic, romantic and sensuous about sand dunes.  I’m not talking about those scrubby little things dotted with dried-out fast food wrappers and sun-bleached soda bottles that you can find along most stretches of public beach.  But rather, the isolated and austere, expansive and sometimes towering stretches of dunes that entice you to wander into their curving and hidden folds, that seduce you to continue venturing deeper, searching for the most glorious view, the untouched ripples, the perfect feminine roll of land meeting sky.?? These are the dunes of mystery and power that figure in Lawrence of Arabia, Edward Weston’s visions of Oceano, Wilfred Thesiger’s wandering through the Rub’ al Khalil, and Frank Herbert’s detailed and developed world of Arrakis.

In the large swath of desert and mountains that comprise Death Valley National Park there are a number of areas were dunes reside, if not reign.?? Saline Valley’s dunes are low but seldom visited.?? Panamint Valley features a relatively small set of dunes sitting forlorn, almost forgotten in the northern, unvisited end of the valley.?? Eureka Valley, isolated at the tail end of 45 miles of washboard road, boasts the highest dunes in the Great Basin, towering over 650 feet above the floor. Death Valley proper hosts the most popular dunes in the park. Located in the Mesquite Flat area just outside Stovepipe Wells, these are the dunes I visited this past April.

Rolling into the campground late in the afternoon the first week of April, the temperature hovered around 101??F. Stovepipe Wells really is the most pathetic excuse for a campground.?? It is essentially one large gravel parking lot for the RVers bounded on the north side by 20 or so anemic looking campsites for those that still pitch a tent.?? The only saving grace was the hummocky mesquite bush-topped, miniature dunes that I was able to set my tent behind in order to gain at least some privacy.?? Duty done, it was time to head to the dunes, located just a mile distant.

There really are two good times of the day for photographers to hang out on the dunes: dusk and dawn.???? (A case could be made for a moon and star drenched evening with some long exposure work… as long as you can find your way back to your vehicle/campsite.)?? Late afternoon was hot but we wandered quite a-ways out on the dunes, looking both for relatively untracked sand and the perfect place to catch the glow of sunset.

The Mesquite Sand Dunes feature one obvious high dune that acts as both a centerpiece and magnet for photographers and tourists alike.?? So, my goal became to position myself to have the central high dune clearly in the majority of compositions.?? I ascended one final ridge, exhausted after 9+ hours of driving, setting up camp and finally trudging through the hot sand and hotter air, and with the big dune in front of me, declared a victory of sorts by planting my tripod.

As the shadows grew, the sand began a transformation to gold and the faint wispy strands of cloud shifted to coral-pink. This was the time to shoot. Which, I did – see below. (My shooting partner captured just about the perfect late afternoon dune shot here.)

For me, this is very much ultra wide-angle country.?? I want to capture the ripples of sand inches from my feet and the blackened mountains on the distant horizon…and all must be sharp.?? So, I stop down close to or at the limit of the lens I have mounted.?? Can I do that AND have the image sharp throughout the frame? Not always, but often.?? It is a trade-off, but compromise is usually part of the equation in photography.??

The next morning we were up before dawn and again trudged our way over the dunes.?? It was much cooler though and we were refreshed so the walk was pleasant rather than a “death march.”?? We deliberately hiked further out into the dunes to avoid the bulk of the human tracks.?? I eventually positioned myself above a sweep of virgin ripples and waited for the sun to rise. When it did, it provided intense side lighting and the sand ripples became topographically pronounced: perfect compositional fodder for my infrared cameras.?? I found myself laying on the dunes trying to get as low an angle as possible to capture the details and relief of the sand.?? I needed to shoot fast though as the landscape and shadows were changing rapidly.

Morning on the dunes is also a great time to look for tracks left by the various nocturnal creatures that wander at night.?? Beetle and small animal tracks were scattered here and there, but the highlight was when I found a sidewinder track and followed it for a 100 meters or so up and over the sharp crest of a dune.

By 9am we were pretty close to being finished shooting on the dunes.?? The light was turning quite harsh, though I was still getting some good images with my infrared cameras.?? (Infrared loves the strong contrast of mid-day and as long as you can maintain shadow detail and not blow out the sky, you can capture striking images.)?? It was time to move on other Death Valley treats and the sky promised another over 100?? day…not really a time to be wandering the giant sand trap of Death Valley Sand Dunes.

We enjoyed our sunset and sunrise on the Mesquite Flat Sand Dunes and captured a number of strong images, but I was already thinking about other ways to capture the forms, light and emotions of this austere but beautiful landscape. I was also thinking back twenty-plus years ago when I first rattled up to the towering Eureka Sand Dunes.?? What I could do photographically with those dunes today!?? It would have to wait though as other locations, Racetrack Valley included, were on our agenda this trip.?? However, the promise was made: Eureka or bust next Spring!

No Skill Is Required (to turn your portrait into a personality-free mannequin)

A lot of film photographers (read: old timers) give the practitioners of digital photography grief for becoming more computer technicians than camera craftsmen (much less, Artistes).  There is, of course, a certain weight of truth that for a digital photographer to create anything more than SOOC (Straight-Out-Of-Camera) snapshots, he or she must become reasonably facile in (at the least) Photoshop.  Add to this Lightroom, a plethora of presets, plugins, actions, and special purpose ancillary applications, and you can see the tip of the old timers complaint iceberg.  Of course those of us who work in electrons as well as photons, also rightly claim that technical skill and artistic inclinations, leavened with judicious restraint, can come together to create wonderful digital photographs.  But, while we strive to capture the light and master the digital darkroom, there are those out there who are fighting mightily to prove the old timers right.

Enter the Panasonic Lumix DMC-FX78/77 with Cosmetic Mode and Beauty Retouch Mode. These camera modes will allow you to change skin tone (Want to be suntanned in the middle of an Alaskan winter while avoiding those pricey, skin-cancer producing tanning booths? No problem, there is a mode for that with the push of a button.), whiten your teeth (No need for those pesky yearly visits to the dentist!), remove your laugh lines and wrinkles (Why mar your face while smiling or aging!), enhance your lip color (Desirable for the teenage vampyre in all of us.), and numerous other facial “improvements” that I’m sure we all wish could be applied in-camera with the push of a button and a minimal of nuance.  Anyone who knows me knows that I am no luddite. And, while I usually am not an early adopter of new technology (I’ll let others pay premium to hang out on the bleeding edge), I am a staunch advocate of process and technology improvement.  But do a Google search for “panasonic beauty retouch” and look at some of the “retouched” examples. If your idea of improving upon the looks of the human race is to turn them into an army of plastic mannequins, well then this really is the camera for you!

Now I fully understand that cameras like this Panasonic (Casio has one as well, the EXILIM) are not targeted for pros but rather snapshooters (and perhaps insecure ones at that).  So while you might see an advert for this camera in a teen magazine (or the websites that have seemed to replace most magazines), you would not expect to see it advertised in a photography magazine targeting professionals.  Therefore, imagine my surprise — and dismay — to see in a magazine whose byline is “The Magazine for Professional Photographers” a product that claims to be the “fastest, easiest portrait touch-up software“ that can produce “magazine quality yet natural looking touch-up in minutes.” Sounds good as many of us find that we need speed and ease to help trim or streamline our digital workflows. And, the product may well be very good (though the ‘after’ image in the ad still looks over-processed to my eyes). No, my objection is not to the idea of expediting our processing time, but rather to the last line of the ad copy: “No skill is required.” We take the time and apply our well-earned skills to compose and light our subjects and yet in the end, no skill is required to produce wonderful images. This is progress? Something is not quite right with that concept.

There are two issues here for me. First, is the idea that we can — and apparently some need to — define beauty as over-smoothed plasticized skin, an absence of wrinkles and blemishes, and glowing-white teeth that belong in an Ultrabrite toothpaste commercial. I have no problem with touching up the acne of a teenager or the bruises of a some scrappy boy (or, tomboy). I also understand that brides want to look their best on their special day. And, I have myself slightly whitened the teeth of a client or two. But that is a far cry from the homogeneity I see in a number of portraits being posted/printed. Much of this I suspect comes from aspiring shooters who believe that if a little skin smoothing is good, then a lot is better. But that doesn’t explain the professional portrait shot I saw in a magazine recently. Leading off a bio-piece on some actor (didn’t recognize his face nor his name, and it doesn't matter), the photographer (or Photoshop editor) chose to turn his face into a dark (he is an African-American) porcelain visage of banality while his gently folded hands remained untouched and expressive. It was an immediate and jarring juxtaposition. There was more character and personality in his creased hands than in his artificially created mask-like face. Be creative, browse the galleries at Flickrista for inspiration or ideas and remember that often, less is more.

Of course, my second issue is the notion that we — whether via software or hardware — would desire to create something with no skill involved. It almost seems oxymoronic, if not sacrilegious to our artistic sensibilities. Most of us are on a life-long struggle to improve and refine our skill set (among other attributes). Handing a camera to chimp and turning him loose may produce an interesting and serendipitous image or two (out of thousands), but that is likely not the path most of us are on.  So yes, hardware and software developers, look for ways to augment and even streamline our workflows. But leave us the requirement to exercise skill and judgment, discretion and nuance in our work. Otherwise, the old timers are finally quite right.

Day Trips to the Danube Bend

South of Bratislava, Slovakia, the Danube, generally a north-to-south flowing river, makes a wide sweeping eastward turn. For some 80 kilometers or so, the river flows in this fashion until forced by rising hills to make first a brief southward turn, then a turn north before rounding the final hills and heading back south, straightaway to Budapest, some 50 kilometers further downriver. This bit of U-turn is known as the Danube Bend, and it is a fine place to spend a few days, out of the hustle and bustle that is the capital of Hungary.

The guide books (in this case The Rough Guide and Bradt), state that there are three ‘must-see’ sites in this area. From upriver to downriver they are Esztergom, Visegr??d, and Szentendre. Each one is a day trip from Budapest and since we did not have our car yet, were relying on public transportation, and only had two days to spend in this area, we selected the two closest destinations. That left Esztergom – the old ecclesiastical center of Hungarian Catholicism – for another trip and another time.

Szentendre, our first daytrip destination, is a mere 20-plus-change kilometers upriver from Budapest. We walked from our apartment on the lower Pest side of the city to a small H??V commuter train station below the Buda castle. The ticket agent in the station complimented me on my Hungarian (she spoke quite good English) and wanted to know where I studied it. I pointed to my phrase book and we had a good laugh. The ride was a relatively quick 40 minutes and soon we exited the rather dismal station in Szentendre.

The Brandt guidebook, and to an even larger degree, The Rough Guide, were effusive in their praise of this small town. I could see the promise, but for me, the reality fell short. It all seemed rather tatty with massive amounts of graffiti adorning walls and buildings. It probably didn’t help that there was some sort of street ditch-digging that contributed a coating of dust to much of the town. The main town square – F?? T??r – was small, angular, sloping and seemed a singular place with its crowding of old burgher houses. We enjoyed a light lunch on a bench watching the tourists, but frankly I found nothing in the square to photograph. Wandering uphill we found two unique church yards that offered a study in contrasts. The Roman Catholic church, creamy yellow and dirty white, sat in a large, open flat hill upon Templon T??r partially surrounded by skeletal trees that made for some interesting compositions. The Belgrade Cathedral – a Baroque Serbian orthodox church – is located in a beautiful enclosed park crowded by bright green, tall trees. The church itself is painted in ochre and pale mustard and the grounds made for a nice cooling spot to sit out of the warm mid-day sun. Photographing the church through the dappled greenery made for some challenging fun, though the end results don’t quite live up to the initial promise.

Historically known for its large Serbian population (now almost extinct) and more recently as an artists’ colony, I do believe that Szentendre was once as charming as the guidebooks paint it. Perhaps it is the recession – signs of which are everywhere – perhaps it is the tagging – again, signs of which are everywhere – aided by the guidebook build-up – that now seems more hyperbole than fact – but, I was underwhelmed and even disappointed by Szentendre.

Two days later found us in the Gustave Eiffel designed (so we were proudly told by a Hungarian woman who also kindly pointed us in the right direction) Nyugati train station where, with seven minutes to spare, I ordered our tickets from a distinctly unfriendly non-English speaking agent. (Though I surprisingly found a high proportion of Hungarians speak quite good English, there were the occasional few who did not. In most cases they were very pleasant as we worked our way through our discussion, pointing, drawing, pantomiming as needed. Very rare was the rude Hungarian.) ??Tickets in hand, we rushed to our train and with the help of our ticket puncher, 45 minutes later we debouched at Nagymaros. On the east bank of Danube, we made our way through the sleepy village just in time to jump aboard a funky ferry for our brief ride across the river to Visegr??d. The ferry consisted of one barge being pushed and pulled by a small tugboat. The barge could fit perhaps 8-10 cars (or, as we would find on our return trip, one large semi-truck!) and however many pedestrians.

The village of Visegr??d is not much to write home about, but we weren’t there to tour the town. High up on a hill overlooking the Danube is a commanding point that has on-again, off-again been occupied as a fort since Roman times. Sometime in the distant past, Slavs named it Vy??ehrad, or ‘high castle.’ The Hungarian spelling has stuck ever since. Below the perched fortress, a monastery was built in the 11^th century to be followed by a palace complex that was enlarged over the centuries. Surprisingly, the royal seat was moving from Buda in the 14^th century until the Ottomans occupied the lands in the mid-1500s. Over the years the palace disappeared and fell into an almost mythical status, until excavations in the mid-20^th century revealed the foundations of the once glorious complex. Much of what one now sees in both the castle and the palace are tastefully executed restorations.

Wandering through the partially restored Royal Palace, you can only get a hint of how large it once was. Apparently there were over 350 rooms in the 600 meter long complex, replete with gardens and fountains and courtyards. One of the later features a few stone benches and lovely shade trees: the perfect place for our picture lunch, with a view out to the Danube. Exiting the palace you continue on foot downriver until you reach the lower castle structure of Soloman’s Tower. It’s a very large Romanesque keep from the 13^th century but was unfortunately closed on this particular day. Now heading up a very steep – but fortunately well-shaded path – our destination was the high castle itself. Panting, the work was worth it as glorious views unfolded of the flowing Danube below us and the B??rzs??ny Hills distant. Enough of the castle has been reconstructed to not only afford views in all directions but also to give a visitor a good impression of the size and strength of this fortification. As a bonus, two rooms provide well-accoutered displays of the history and armaments of the castle and its occupants. Another trail through the woods brought us full-circle back to the little town of Visegr??d where we awaited our return trip across the river and back to Budapest.

Where Szentendre disappointed, Visegr??d exceeded. It’s clear that the Danube Bend offers variety: old history, quiet villages, dusty roads, steep trails, and through it all the flowing Danube. If you find yourself in busy Budapest for a few days, you should venture into the countryside around the Bend to
experience a different kind of Hungary: slower, more gently paced, quieter and even peaceful. The old of the country not far from the modern of the city.