Every Trail Tells a Story
Death Valley Buttes
Grandstand views of Death Valley’s floor and surrounding ranges.
A scramble that feels like mountaineering without ropes.
A brush with history – and the resort at Hells Gate that never was.
Grand views of the central part of the national park are the hiker’s reward for a trail-less scramble to the top of Death Valley Buttes, three distinct hills at the base of the Grapevine Mountains. The sweeping panorama includes the valley floor, the Funeral and Panamint ranges.
Erosion of the range left much rock debris at the base of the mountains; this alluvium gradually buried lower ridges, leaving behind isolated high points of which the most prominent are the Death Valley Buttes. Standing on top of one of these sun-blasted summits, you feel like you’re standing on an island in a sea of stone, with every mountain range in Death Valley spread before you.
The route to the buttes begins at Hells Gate – named, as the story goes, in 1905 by a teamster who was struck by the contrast between the relative cool of Boundary Canyon and the hotter area near the buttes. The mules would act startled and shake their heads at the sudden searing heat. “They thought they had stuck their noses through the gates of hell,” the teamster is reported to have exclaimed.
And yet, Hells Gate was exactly where entrepreneur Bob Eichbaum thought it wise to build a grand resort in the 1920s. Eichbaum, an electrical engineer turned impresario, had fallen in love with Death Valley after helping wire Rhyolite in 1905. Two decades later, after years running beach concessions in Venice and Catalina, he came back determined to build a luxury hotel right here. He called it “one of the wonders of the country.” His plan? Load up buses in Los Angeles, haul tourists over bad roads, and deposit them at Hells Gate for some desert R&R.
It’s hard not to chuckle at the thought of sunburned city slickers, adult beverages in hand, gazing out over the barren Funeral Mountains. The scheme fell apart when the bad roads stayed bad, and the grand resort never materialized. (Eichbaum had the last laugh, though, opening the original Stovepipe Wells Hotel in 1926 and charging a toll to use the road over Townes Pass.)
Today, the only luxury at Hells Gate is a picnic table and a bit of shade if you’re lucky. The real prize lies in the scramble to the buttes, where the views of the valley and surrounding ranges are reward enough.
From the Furnace Creek Visitor Center, head north on Highway 190 for eleven miles. Veer right toward Beatty on the Daylight Pass Cutoff and travel northeast ten miles to Hells Gate, where you’ll find a large parking area and picnic tables.
Walk southwest toward the buttes across rocky terrain dotted with creosote and beavertail cactus. Look for the remains of the phone line that crossed this land, connecting Rhyolite to civilization, such as it was, in the southwest.
After 0.5 mile, leave behind this relatively gentle alluvial fan and strike south toward the ridge of the easternmost butte. Follow the rock crest westward, aided by an intermittent trail, to the 2,725-foot summit. Admire the barren Grapevine Mountains nearby, and the equally austere Funeral Mountains extending southeast.
Return the way you came or continue to the next and highest butte. If you press on (only for experienced hikers), you’ll descend the steep ridgeline west to a saddle, then ascend the narrow ridge 0.5 mile to Peak 3,017. Enjoy the view across the shimmering valley floor to the Panamint Mountains.