A Place for Pictures

"I think it's going to be hot today," said Andy, as we drove into Joshua Tree National Park. The 8:30 a.m. sun, already high, beat down from a clear blue sky with not a cloud anywhere. Signs at many pullouts warned revegetated area, with young plants encased in chicken wire. In the middle of one parking lot with no cars stood a half empty Slurpee cup. "I'll never understand why people can't walk 20 feet to a garbage can," said Andy. "I'm doing my good deed." He stopped the car, picked up the cup and walked over to the trash barrel.

Robinson Jeffers wrote "Integrity is wholeness." His poem is printed on the interpretive sign at Hidden Canyon. Here a cattle rancher blasted through the boulder wall to uncover a lush valley before Franklin D. Roosevelt preserved Joshua Tree as a monument in 1936. The rancher, Bill Keys, found remnants of pinyon pine and juniper groves that probably dated back 10,000 years, in addition to grazing land for his cattle. Now other challenges face those who want to protect the environment. One of the most popular climbing spots in the world, Joshua Tree offers incredible opportunities for rock scaling. Climbing groups work with park authorities to protect vegetation around popular climbing areas so that nature survives and the park endures for future generations.

Barker Dam and Wall Street Mill trails, each just more than a mile, revealed historical evidence of earlier ranching and mining days, as well as undisturbed petroglyphs in black, tan and rust colors, the evidence of early Indian habitation from hundreds of years before.

Lost Horse Valley is perfect Joshua Tree habitat. The forest of healthy trees proliferates. Protected by a surrounding ring of granite and basalt mountains, the valley floor must offer the correct 2,000-6,000-foot elevation and just the right amount of precipitation for Joshua trees to thrive.

On the way to the San Andreas Fault and Coachella Valley overlooks, a road runner zipped across the road ahead of us and darted into a small grove of California junipers. A little later we spotted a white-tailed antelope ground squirrel scurrying under a clump of cheesebush in an alkaline wash. High white stratus clouds lined the sky to the north. "That storm in Washington and Oregon is moseying its way a little south," said Andy, "but tomorrow is only a 10 percent chance of rain here."

At Cap Rock picnic area the Merriam chipmunks had taken over. Only a little wary, they scurried under the picnic table and dashed in and out of Peachthorn bushes, keeping both eyes on us and the nuts we munched.

We read the interpretive signs about Ryan Ranch, procured so the water rights from the ranch could support the mining operations in the late 1890's and early 1900's. A picture of Mrs. Ryan on the porch, overlooking her cactus garden, accompanied the sign. We hiked in along a sandy road a half mile or more. Three adobe walls remained near the base of the granite boulders with the ruins of outbuildings close by. "Beautiful," said Andy, "but so lonely and harsh."

"They are remembered though," I commented. "He has a mountain, a pullout, a trail, and even a campground named for him. She has her picture where hundreds of visitors see it. Isn't it odd that such lonely insignificant lives can attract so much attention?"

"Hundreds?" questioned Andy. "You mean millions. Joshua Tree gets 1.2 million visitors a year."

"Last walk of the day," said Andy, pulling in the parking lot at Jumbo Rocks Campground. "We camped here years ago. I'm looking for Skull Rock Trail."

"Here's the sign, but you said short. This is 1.7 miles," I moaned.

"And our last walk," he answered, grinning.

The trail led up and down through boulder clusters. One really did resemble a skull. A clump of goatberry bushes provided nesting for a wood rat. We veered from the trail and climbed some boulders. "You can do these," coaxed Andy. "They are flat on top. Come up."
I climbed. The sun dipped behind the hills, casting long shadows by 3:30 p.m., and a cool breeze spilled into the valley. Everywhere, rock. White tank granite. Monzogranite boulders.
"And no graffiti," said Andy.
I wonder what makes the difference. Thank goodness there is one.