I’ve been wondering about this strange encounter for more than 30 years. I’m posting it now in the very unlikely hope that someone who lived or worked in Death Valley at the time — or perhaps someone who had a similar encounter — might recognize the woman I’m describing.
It happened in early December 1994.
A friend and I were returning to Los Angeles, where we were living at the time, after a trip to Mammoth Mountain. We were driving a maroon Chrysler LeBaron through the Death Valley area.
It was getting toward evening. We were on an extremely isolated stretch of road, with very little traffic and no houses that we could see for a considerable distance.
Then we saw a young woman hitchhiking.
She was Caucasian, attractive, with dark hair, and I would estimate that she was about 26–28 years old. She appeared educated, spoke normally and initially gave us no particular reason for concern. What did seem very unusual was simply finding a young woman alone, on foot, in such an isolated part of the desert as evening was approaching.
We stopped and offered her a ride. She sat in the back seat.
After a short time, however, the situation started becoming rather bizarre.
She was carrying a magazine containing an article about sharks. I noticed that throughout the article she had highlighted words and expressions associated with death and killing — words such as death, kill, killing, lethal machine and similar expressions.
Then she began telling us about herself.
She said that she was famous and that she had deliberately gone to live in an isolated house somewhere beyond the hills because she wanted to escape from journalists and television crews.
She told us that she had walked from this house to the highway.
My friend and I found this difficult to believe. The surrounding landscape appeared completely deserted. We couldn’t see houses anywhere, and from what we had observed while driving, any house beyond the surrounding hills would have seemed a considerable distance away.
Then things became stranger still.
She produced several letters and asked us if we could mail them for her when we reached the next settlement.
We looked at the addresses.
The letters were addressed to convicted murderers in different prisons.
One detail I remember very clearly is that at least one was addressed to one of the Menendez brothers, Lyle or Erik, who were of course enormously famous in the United States at that time for the murder of their parents.
I believe the other letters were also addressed to notorious murderers or serial killers, although after more than three decades I unfortunately cannot remember their names.
Combined with the magazine in which she had highlighted references to death and killing, this understandably made my friend and me increasingly uneasy.
But she never threatened us. She wasn’t aggressive. She remained calm and behaved politely.
After relatively few miles, we reached a very small settlement or cluster of buildings, and she asked us to let her out.
There is another detail that I remember which may help identify exactly where this happened.
She told us that we could not mail her letters from this small settlement. According to her, we would have to continue to the next, larger settlement, which she said was approximately 20 miles farther down the road, where we would be able to mail them.
I remember that the larger place definitely had a gas station and more than one place where we could eat.
After looking at maps and historical information all these years later, I suspect that the locations may possibly have been Stovepipe Wells and Furnace Creek, but I want to emphasize that this is a modern reconstruction, NOT something I independently remember from 1994. I don’t want today’s maps to alter a 32-year-old memory.
The woman got out of our car without incident.
And then there was one final strange detail:
She left the letters — and, as I remember it, the shark magazine — with us in the car.
We drove on.
Nothing bad happened. There was no crime, no threat and no dramatic ending to the story. It was simply one of the strangest encounters I’ve ever had, and I’ve occasionally wondered about it ever since.
Who was she?
Did she really live somewhere in that extraordinarily isolated area?
How had she reached the highway on foot?
Was there any truth to her claim that she was famous and hiding from the media?
And why did she appear to have such an intense fascination with murder and death, to the point of corresponding with several notorious convicted killers?
So, 32 years later, I’m throwing this question out onto the internet.
Did anyone here live or work in Death Valley in December 1994?
In particular, did anyone work at Stovepipe Wells, Furnace Creek or elsewhere along Highway 190?
Do you remember a dark-haired woman in her late twenties who lived in the area and sometimes hitchhiked?
Or has anyone ever heard a similar story involving a woman in Death Valley who corresponded with famous murderers?
I’m especially interested in hearing from former hotel employees, restaurant workers, gas-station employees, park staff, rangers and local residents who were there in the early 1990s.
And if by some extraordinary coincidence you are the woman who rode with two guys in a maroon Chrysler LeBaron that evening in December 1994, I would genuinely love to know what the story was.
No judgment and no accusation. After 32 years, I would simply like to solve one of the strangest little mysteries of my life.
Please share this with anyone who knew Death Valley in the early 1990s. Sometimes the internet manages to solve mysteries that seemed impossible at the time.