Death Valley is a desert valley located in Eastern California. Situated within the Mojave Desert, it is the lowest and driest area in North America. Death Valley has the highest recorded air temperature in the world. Badwater Basin, located in Death Valley, is the point of the lowest elevation in North America at 282 feet (86 m) below sea level. This point is only 84.6 miles (136.2 km) ESE of Mount Whitney, the highest point in the contiguous United States with an elevation of 14,505 feet (4,421 m). Death Valley holds the record for the highest reliably reported temperature in the world, 134 °F (56.7 °C) at Furnace Creek on July 10, 1913. The previously-claimed world record air temperature, 136 °F (57.8 °C) in 'Aziziya, Libya, on September 13, 1922, has been officially deemed invalid by the World Meteorological Organization.
Located near the border of California and Nevada, in the Great Basin, east of the Sierra Nevada mountains, Death Valley constitutes much of Death Valley National Park and is the principal feature of the Mojave and Colorado Deserts Biosphere Reserve. It is located mostly in Inyo County, California. It runs from north to south between the Amargosa Range on the east and the Panamint Range on the west; the Sylvania Mountains and the Owlshead Mountains form its northern and southern boundaries, respectively. It has an area of about 3,000 sq mi (7,800 km2). Death Valley shares many characteristics with other places below sea level.
Read more about Death Valley: Geology, Climate, Lake Badwater and Glacial Lake Manly, History, Notable Locations
Famous quotes containing the words death and/or valley:
“If thou art rich, thou’rt poor,
For like an ass, whose back with ingots bows,
Thou bear’st thy heavy riches but a journey,
And death unloads thee.”
—William Shakespeare (1564–1616)
“As I went forth early on a still and frosty morning, the trees looked like airy creatures of darkness caught napping; on this side huddled together, with their gray hairs streaming, in a secluded valley which the sun had not penetrated; on that, hurrying off in Indian file along some watercourse, while the shrubs and grasses, like elves and fairies of the night, sought to hide their diminished heads in the snow.”
—Henry David Thoreau (1817–1862)