RETIREMENT TRIP #6

   WITH ARMS RAISED TO GOD    

                October 2015                 

Yesterday President Obama signed the “continuing resolution” passed by Congress, so the government has a budget for ten weeks.  That means Andy’s decision a few days ago to cancel our “emergency” reservations in Las Vegas was the right decision.  With the budget, all the parks we had wanted to visit will be open.

California is in a water crisis.  The last two motels have had leaking toilets in the rooms we booked. Both times we had to adjust the floats so the toilets stopped running.  In addition, the showers came down like Niagara Falls.

“In one shower,” said Andy, “I used as much water as I would in five back home.”

We haven’t seen much water conservation for crisis mode.

“I saw what people in Sacramento pay for water,” said Andy, “and it is a third of what we pay in Connecticut.”

I had just seen a newspaper headline that said a local water company could raise the rates.

In Barstow, the road to the town dump was much cleaner than the surrounding major highways.

We remembered back to Barstow years and years ago, maybe the first time we flew west to see Las Vegas in the 1970’s.  Then it was a tiny desert town, nestled in the southern Sierra Nevada hills.  Now it sprawls.

Near the entrance to Joshua Tree National
Park, the trees thrive.

Stores have barred windows and some unsavory characters roam the streets.  Twice when we walked to do laundry and to have dinner, scruffy looking men made comments. And when Andy walked last night, two teenage boys begged for money. He wanted to tell them to get a job or go back to school.  Wisely, he kept walking.  It’s sad what time has done to Barstow, a place I wouldn’t want to live.

When we left Barstow at 8:30 a.m., the temperature was already in the low 80’s. 

“It’s going to be another hot one,” said Andy.

Yesterday topped 100 degrees.  Today, October 1^st, won’t be much under that.

As we drove south from Barstow, the valley spread out. Land for sale signs popped up: 20 acres for $64,500 toward the 6,000-foot elevation.  Farther down near a dry lake bed: 20 acres for $15,000.

“But who in their right mind would buy it?” said Andy.

I guess not too many from the looks of all the For Sale signs.

In Lucerne Valley we turned easterly on Route #247.  Even in the shadow of the foothills it was already 82 degrees.  But cirrus clouds blanketing the sun in a thin layer kept temperatures down.

A forest of Joshua trees stands tall at
the park entrance.

As we got closer to the foothills, Andy said, “This could be really pleasant in the winter.”

I agreed.  The foothills, rugged with layers of color and deep green canyons, cast interesting shadows.

“I’ll bet there are some beautiful spots deep within those hills,” said Andy.

But life along the road must be very difficult.  We saw house after house abandoned—deserted—vandalized—ruined.  Fate, not kind.  Shakiti Na Gai.

About 47 miles from Twenty-Nine Palms, the Joshua trees started popping up.  

Andy tries rock climbing at Quail Springs.

“It’s elevation,” said Andy.  “We are high enough here that they can grow.”

We had read that Joshua trees were named long ago because people thought it looked like they had their branches raised to the sky like Joshua praying in supplication to God.

Quality of life totally changed as we drove into the town of Yucca Valley and then Joshua Tree.

“It’s like a different world,” said Andy.  Roads were clean; houses, well maintained; land, generally cared for.  People here took pride in where they lived and in how they cared for their surroundings. 

“Except for the summer heat,” said Andy, “I’d like it here.”

“That’s a big except,” I told him.

At 11:00 a.m. it was 84 degrees, but a lovely breeze made the temperature pleasant.

As soon as we passed the park entrance, Joshua trees dominated as a forest.

“This is the pretty part of the Mohave,” said Andy.

The sign said, “Air Quality—good; Fire Danger—high.”  It was a pretty day.

Joshua trees grow slowly in the harsh
desert climate of quail Springs.

At Quail Springs two men with hard hats studied the ascent at an outcropping of monzo-granite—molten intrusion into the overlying Pinto Gneiss formation underground thousands of years ago.  They readied their ropes and adjusted harnesses to scale the huge boulders.  Some elderly Japanese tourists walked around the parking area, oohing and aahing, as Andy climbed one of the smaller boulders for a picture.

“I’m a tree hugger,” I joked, grabbing a smaller Joshua tree near a picnic site.

Joshua trees accent the unusual rock
formations of weathered monzo-
granite in the national park.

As we pulled out of the Quail Springs picnic area, Andy stopped again.  “There’s a good picture,” he said.  “I really like that tree.”

I could see it was going to be a long day from the looks of things.  The Joshua trees here were doing very well.

At Boy Scout Trailhead we walked in five minutes just before noon.  The whole trail was 7.7 miles one way.

Rock climbers' paradise this park has more than
500 identified climbing sites.

“Careful of the dagger yucca,” I warned, as Andy veered a little too close to the edge of the path.

Two more stops along the road meant more pictures.  Every direction offered gorgeous formations of tumbled mongo-granite and healthy Joshua trees.  Andy found a rusted bucket under one tree.  It had been here for a long time.I knew he love it here.  He even took the clean car on a dirt road pull-off.

“It doesn’t go very far,” he said.  “I’ll go really slow.”

The cracks and crevices of Hemingway Buttress provide
hand and foot holds for climbers.

Hemingway Buttress offers wonderful cracks and crevices for climbers. We walked to the foot of the formation and followed it along the base.  The interpretive sign said the park has more than 500 identified locations for climbing, many with whimsical names like Poodles are People Too and The Importance of Being Ernest.

Lots of people climbed Intersection Rock.  Some were at the very summit; others rested at the first major boulder top; still others watched and waited at the bottom.

Yucca and cactus grow
along the roads and trails.

Across the way, Rangers served a school group of third and fourth graders at tables at one of the picnic sites in Hidden Valley.
Their school bus was parked nearby.

It’s great to see a National Park being used for educational purposes. It’s even more special that maybe the children are being taught to care for the environment.

A healthy coyote crossed the road just ahead of us.  The climbers on Intersection Rock noticed him too.

Andy parked again.  “We’ll hike to Barker Dam.  That was a nice walk,” he said.

We grabbed our hats and headed out.  But nowhere did trail signs say Barker Dam. Ten minutes and one wrong turn in, Andy announced we were on the wrong trail, but we saw some lovely scenery and met a lizard with no tail.

Walking all around the formation, we look for the living oak
tree that gave this picnic area its name.

A little farther down the road was the pull-out for Barker Dam and Queen Valley Road.  Going 5 m.p.h., so as not to kick up dirt, we followed Queen Valley Road to Bighorn Pass Road.

“We’re behind the mountains that line the road,” said Andy.  These slopes actually looked volcanic and bunch grass grew plentifully.  Less prone to weathering, the interior had a totally different feel.

At Live Oak Picnic Area we looked for the anomaly in the desert.  There was no live oak tree that we could see.  We walked around the jumbled rocks and followed a few paths that seemed to have footprints but success in rooting out that illusive live oak was not to be.

Split Rock Loop Trail
includes different
plants and varied terrain. 

Split Rock Loop Trail out of the picnic area circled four or five large outcroppings of monzo-granite boulders as it wound in and out of the canyon and the wash.  Particularly enjoyable, the hike offered varied terrain and all kinds of desert plants.  We even saw a family of quail scurry off under some mesquite.  At the first loop back, I couldn’t imagine the two-mile estimate for distance was correct.  We were clearly heading back toward Split Rock after only ten minutes.  But the loop kept going far up the canyon before it circled back—undoubtedly a two-mile walk.  We kept a fast pace and hiked for 55 minutes.  Later Andy read that it was actually 2.3 miles.

From Keyes Point, views of the Salton Sea in the
distance are possible on a clear day.

By 4 p.m. we had driven up to Keyes Point, 5,185 feet.  From there we could see the Salton Sea in one direction and the smog of Los Angeles in the other.  A fire burned in the valley beyond; we saw the smoke rising in the distance. If I read the map correctly, the San Andreas Fault extended the length of the valley below along the Indio Hills.

At the end of the day we stopped in Sheep Pass to catch the 4:30 p.m. shadows on the rock outcropping.  At least a dozen young children grouped around tables with adults, and nearby six or eighty colorful tents had been pitched. It looked like a pre-school campout.

Leaving the park near Sheep Pass, we cross a high plateau. 

Temperatures climbed as we descended.  It was 93 degrees by the time we reached Twenty-Nine Palms, and the wind down the side of the mountain blasted the warm air.  But already the evening cool down hinted fall. I kept thinking—55 in suburban Chicago and a hurricane on the way back home.