“Death Valley is the perfect flesh-grilling device, the Foreman Grill in Mother Nature’s cupboard. It’s a big, shimmering sea of salt ringed by mountains that bottle up the heat and force it right back down your skull. The average air temparature hovers around 125 degrees, but once the sun rises and begins broiling the desert floor, the ground beneath … [your] feet … hit[s] a nice, toasty 200 degrees – exactely the temparature you need to slow roast a prime rib.”

(cf. Christopher McDougall, Born to Run, 126)