
From Snow to Stone: Notre Dame Civil Engineering Students Journey into Death Valley’s Geologic Wonders
Over spring break, while many students chose to unwind on sandy beaches or catch up on sleep, 14 civil engineering students from the University of Notre Dame ventured from the icy grip of Northwest Indiana to the sun-scorched expanse of the American Southwest. Their destination? Death Valley National Park—one of the most geologically rich and topographically extreme regions in North America. For these future engineers, the trip wasn’t a vacation, but an immersive field study that brought textbooks to life under the weight of the desert sun.
The group, led by Notre Dame civil engineering faculty, embarked on the trip with the goal of exploring the region’s dynamic geological features. For many, it was the first time witnessing firsthand the dramatic folds, faults, and formations that define the earth’s crust in its rawest form. Death Valley is known not just for its extreme temperatures and barren landscape, but for its geological complexity—a natural laboratory stretching across millions of years and encompassing everything from volcanic remnants to ancient seabeds.
Swapping the snow boots of South Bend for hiking shoes and hydration packs, the students quickly found themselves immersed in one of the most geologically fascinating and environmentally challenging terrains in the world. Death Valley’s arid climate and record-breaking temperatures—averaging over 100 degrees Fahrenheit during the summer—might deter the average traveler. But for this group of aspiring engineers, the heat only added to the authenticity of the experience.
Throughout the week, the students camped in rustic conditions, rising with the sun and trekking through canyons, alluvial fans, salt flats, and layered rock formations. Each stop was more than a sightseeing opportunity; it was a lesson in geological time, tectonic activity, erosion, and sedimentation. Professors paused at key formations to discuss structural geology, hydrology, and geomorphology—applying civil engineering principles in a setting far removed from the lecture hall.
Among the highlights of the trip was a visit to the Black Mountains, where tilted and uplifted rock layers paint a vivid picture of tectonic forces at work. As students examined the jagged outcrops and stratified formations, they could trace the movements of earth’s plates, visualizing how massive shifts shaped the region over millennia. From there, the group moved on to Zabriskie Point, an iconic overlook revealing a labyrinth of golden badlands. The view not only offered breathtaking beauty but an unparalleled glimpse into erosion’s power, as ancient lakebeds transformed into rolling ridges and valleys under the pressure of time and weather.
Another key moment came at the Badwater Basin, the lowest point in North America at 282 feet below sea level. The salt flats there sparked a lively discussion about hydrology and surface drainage in arid environments. The students analyzed how water—or the lack thereof—has sculpted the terrain and how engineers might adapt infrastructure to similar conditions in the real world. Standing beneath sea level, surrounded by salt-encrusted earth, the concepts of fluid dynamics, permeability, and groundwater flow suddenly felt much more real.
For senior students on the trip, the experience served as a culminating chapter of their undergraduate studies. Many of them had spent semesters studying soil mechanics, surveying, and structural analysis. But to see folds in the rock formed by thrust faults or to walk across an ancient riverbed gave context that no slide presentation ever could. Even more valuable was the ability to apply engineering judgment in real time—measuring slope angles, estimating erosion rates, and debating the implications of each feature.
The group also visited Ubehebe Crater, a large volcanic maar formed by a powerful steam explosion when groundwater contacted magma thousands of years ago. Here, the students explored the interface between civil engineering and volcanology, learning how such violent geologic events can influence land use planning and hazard mitigation. The scale of the crater was awe-inspiring, but it also served as a reminder of nature’s unpredictability and the importance of designing with resilience in mind.
Throughout the trip, conversations often extended into the evenings around campfires. Students reflected on the lessons of the day, not just academically but philosophically. For many, the vastness of Death Valley prompted a sense of humility. “Being here puts everything in perspective,” one student said. “It’s a reminder that the world is constantly moving and changing, even if we can’t always see it.”
The experience also forged strong bonds among the group. Shared challenges—like navigating narrow canyons, cooking meals in the wind, and managing limited water supplies—demanded teamwork and adaptability. These are the same skills that will serve them well in their future careers, where collaboration and problem-solving often make the difference between success and failure.
The fieldwork wasn’t limited to observation. The students also engaged in hands-on activities such as rock sampling, sketch mapping, and using surveying equipment to chart elevation changes across varied terrain. These exercises deepened their understanding of topography and landform classification while also giving them practical exposure to field methods that are essential in the engineering profession.
While some days were physically demanding, the group returned each night with notebooks full of observations and a deeper appreciation for the planet’s geological story. And through it all, their faculty mentors remained enthusiastic guides, encouraging students to ask questions, challenge assumptions, and look beyond the obvious.
The trip to Death Valley also served a broader educational purpose: to remind future engineers of the importance of environmental stewardship. As the world grapples with climate change, water scarcity, and natural disasters, the lessons learned in the desert are increasingly relevant. The students considered how climate affects geology, how geology impacts infrastructure, and how engineers must design with both in mind.
One of the most striking takeaways was how even the most desolate landscape teems with information. In places where vegetation is sparse and human development nearly nonexistent, the earth’s features are exposed in ways that invite study. A simple cliff face reveals millions of years of deposition and uplift. A dry wash tells the story of rare but powerful floods. A cracked, sun-baked playa shows the forces of evaporation and mineral deposition at work. For these students, each of these natural elements became a piece of a larger puzzle—one that connects geology, engineering, and the human experience.
When the group finally returned to Indiana, they brought more than rock samples and sunburns. They returned with a heightened sense of wonder, a deeper understanding of engineering’s foundations, and stories they’ll carry for the rest of their careers. Many spoke of the experience as transformative—one that would shape their perspectives not just as engineers, but as thinkers, problem-solvers, and citizens of the planet.
In the weeks following the trip, several students presented their findings to classmates who hadn’t gone, sharing not just technical data but insights about adapting to extreme environments and interpreting natural systems. Faculty members noted how the students seemed more engaged and confident in their subsequent coursework—proof that experiential learning still holds immense value in an increasingly digital world.
For the University of Notre Dame’s civil engineering program, the Death Valley excursion exemplifies a commitment to rigorous, real-world education. It also reaffirms the idea that sometimes, the best classrooms don’t have walls. Whether standing on the edge of a crater, tracing sediment layers with a finger, or simply staring up at the stars in the pitch-black desert night, these students found knowledge etched into the landscape itself.
As engineering challenges of the 21st century grow more complex and interdisciplinary, experiences like this one serve to ground students in the fundamentals while inspiring them to think boldly. And in the quiet, sun-bleached silence of Death Valley, 14 Notre Dame students did just that—finding not just rocks and ridges, but the roots of their future calling.