desert – Page 5 – The MoHo and Other Traveling Tales

From hard to soft, canyons to badlands

Wednesday was all about hard granite, steep canyons, rugged mountains and wide alluvial valleys formed on the western edge of the park in beautiful granite full of quartz, mica, and sparkling fools gold. Our extra day of exploration at Anza Borrego led us into an entirely different environment of barren dry lake beds, and badlands formed in soft sediments, riddled with complex arroyos, and washes, and sudden surprise overlooks.

The skies were clear when we left in the morning, with just a slight breeze in Borrego Springs. Even with our 9am departure, we weren’t early enough to catch the early morning shadow light and by the time we rolled onto the Clark Lake area the winds were blowing hard. Right away we found the oven Al mentioned last month and Laurie and Odel wrote about. I had just started following Laurie’s blog when she wrote about camping here and building this oven, so it was with a special fondness that I took a photo of the well known boondock site.

We continued east on Highway S22 to find Font’s Point. Even with the recent rain the wash was filled with deep sand, enough that we were glad for 4 wheel drive. We wondered about the suggestion to come here for sunset, since driving back in the dark might be a bit challenging. I think someday I might try sunrise instead. The view was worth every moment of the drive through the sandy wash. Each of the geologic formations are immediately distinguishable and I wished for a good geology book to remind me of what I had read in the park visitor center. “Hmm, bottom tier clams. Top tier mammals. Wonder if that one has the horses and camels? Miocene? Sure is lots of stuff around the west that is Miocene era formations…yadayadayada….” Mo just said, “Pretty!”

The cliffs are extremely steep and the drop offs sudden on the soft barely coherent rock. Abby was all excited, and since we were alone, we didn’t leash her up. Next time we will. She rarely unglues from Mo’s side, but for some reason the expansive views got her all excited and she kept getting way too close for my comfort.

We continued along Fonts Wash to another turn east on Short Wash looking another viewpoint ahead. The map I bought from the visitor center was excellent, and we were both impressed with the small and simple, but effective signage out there in the middle of nowhere. In just a few more miles of sand, and one major drop off that required a bit of maneuvering, we were at Vista Del Malpais. The view from here was a bit different, not quite as high, but more from a vantage point within the badlands rather than completely above them. Here again I wished for a good geology book to ferret out the details of the formations.

Another examination of the map showed our wash continuing farther east to the 17 Palms Oasis. “Wanna try for it?” “Sure, lets go” It would be an in and out trip, past the primitive campsite at Arroyo Salado, but who knows what we might find. We haven’t seen an oasis palm yet. We hadn’t read anything about this site previously, and were surprised to find that it had a great little story. It was an historic stopover for weary badland travelers, and sometimes people would leave glass jars of water sitting about since the spring wasn’t always reliable.

There was also the “Oasis Post Office”, a wooden barrel wedged between two palms, where travelers could leave communications and notes for each other, a tradition that has continued. We found the “post office”, filled with journals and notes, and three bottles of water. We added our own little note to the journal, and noted that Libya was exploding, Fukushima was radiating, and the palms were still here, safe in the desert.

We reversed our route to the highway and continued east on pavement to Salton City. Ugh. Salton City was all the ugliness of the desert that we have seen too many times. Dirty, brown, with some new housing developments of low flat ugly houses surrounded by telephone poles and wires and no vegetation. It was the worst of the desert very close to the best of the desert. We didn’t bother to go down to Salton Sea, since we knew about the smell and the dead fish lying around.

All along the route south back to highway 78 the desert looked dry and barren, with no sign of flowers anywhere. To the west of us, stretching all the way to Anza Borrego was the Ocotillo Wells recreation vehicle area. Another word for 4-wheeler heaven. I have nothing against 4 wheelers, in their place. I have used them for soil survey, I totally get it, they are indispensable for farmers and ranchers with large acreage to manage and animals to care for. Tearing up the wilderness with a vehicle is another story. I am truly grateful for places like this huge area of Ocotillo Wells for 4-wheeler folks to play and have fun with their toys. It’s great. There should be more places like this, where I can stay out of their way and they can stay out of mine. Perfect.

As we continued south and then west, I noticed on the map that we were 175 feet below sea level. Looking a bit closer I saw a fine line called “ancient beach line”. 38 feet. A bit more research led to the fact that we were in what was once the Gulf of Mexico, the Sea of Cortez, extending all the way north, creating the Imperial Valley with all it’s rich alluvial soils. Rich and fertile, but still ugly at the moment. Once west of Ocotillo Wells, however, we breached the old beach line elevation and the landscape filled with gorgeous desert, unscarred by ORV tracks, and covered with the red haze of blooming ocotillo. Anza Borrego State Park is huge. We had only tapped the northern half and very little of the mountains. What an amazing treasure this park is to the state, the country and to the world. I’m so glad the powers that be haven’t let it be destroyed or lost to temporary budget troubles.

Once home, we were fairly worn out after all the bouncing around in washes, and just settled in early for a good spaghetti supper (from home again) and a movie. We decided to dump the tanks and get ready to go for this morning’s departure so it would be quick and easy.

This morning we were up early enough to see a magnificent sunrise punctuated by rainbows over the mountains and we were on the road by 7:30, heading for Tucson. A lucky break for us, however, that we didn’t leave earlier. Just as we started around the Christmas Tree Circle, we noticed that the Farmers Market mentioned by Kelly had already begun. It was so simple to pull over and park on the circle while we walked across the lush green grass to the vendors. I had read about the 3 buck bags of grapefruit, and the farmer from just north on Borrego Springs road was happy to give us a taste of his sweetest. Of course we bought a bag, along with two kinds of hummus and some soft pitas from a Moroccan man, and some local orange blossom honey. Yay for the Farmer’s Market! On to Tucson and a new experience camping at one of the Military Family Camps at Davis-Monthan Air Force Base on the northeastern heart of the city. We have friends and family to visit in the Tucson area, so this should be a good central location, and cheap!

At the moment we are crossing wide, open, rather boring land between Yuma and Tucson, and the air is thick with smog or smoke or what they try to pass off in the West as haze. It could be dust from all the recent storms, or it could be the sad state of air quality around Phoenix, but either way, I am especially grateful for the extra time we spent in the pristine world of Anza Borrego.

Anza Borrego State Park and Coyote Canyon

As expected, I took nearly 200 photos, if you want to check them out here.

Our rig faces northeast, with an open view of the mountains past the low lying, almost invisible buildings of Borrego Springs. Watching the morning sun stream in the windows, listening to all the birds, sipping morning tea in all that desert light was delightful. The day stretched ahead, with predicted temperatures in the 70’s and clear skies until late afternoon, when a bit of wind and showers could appear.

We knew that the park was huge, with miles and miles of dirt roads, some we could manage, and others maybe not. We also knew hiking is something we love but not sure where we could go with Abby. So first stop on the agenda was the main Anza Borrego State Park Visitor Center, just a hop up the road from where we are staying here at the Holiday Borrego Mobile Home Park. After a couple of nights near freeways and truck stops, the silence and darkness of Borrego Springs makes for amazing restful sleeping. In fact, Borrego Springs is listed as one of only two “dark sky” communities, and one of the ten best places for viewing the heavens in the United States.

The visitor center is beautifully done, with interesting displays, excellent volunteers providing information about where flowers are blooming, what roads are passable, where the sheep are located, and yes, where we could walk with Abby. All park roads, dirt or paved, but no trails. I especially enjoyed the geologic maps and prehistory of the area. There is so much to see here, and after buying a hat for Mo and a tee shirt for me, (oh my, will it end up in a quilt someday? I just can’t seem to resist those gorgeous park tee shirts.), we walked around the lovely naturally landscaped grounds before embarking on our chosen journey.

Coyote Canyon seemed to be the best choice, with many flowers in bloom right now after the rains. There were several people in the center, many of whom had only two wheel drive vehicles, but with our little Tracker we thought we could manage at least some of the 4 wheel drive routes.

The road north from Borrego into the park is straightforward, that is until the prehistoric animals start to appear. I recently saw photos of these critters on another blog, but it still didn’t prepare me for the surprise. With the sponsorship of Dennis Avery, a Borrego Springs philanthropist, the Mexican artist Ricardo Arroyo Breceda has created amazingly intricate and detailed iron sculptures that appear as though they just emerged from the landscape as it was a couple of million years ago during the Pliocene, Pleistocene, and Miocene eras. We hope to explore other areas of the park where fossils of this time period have been found, but today our journey was into the granite batholiths of the San Ysidro Mountains along Coyote Creek.

When the park says 4×4, high clearance, they mean it. Although that can mean two different things. We saw sedans crawling along the sandy wash road with success, and then we saw them turn around at “first crossing”. The Tracker made quick work of that one, and on to “2nd crossing” without a hitch. Good little Tracker. We saw a few Jeeps, real ones, not the SUV kind of Jeep, with explorers heading for the deeper reaches of the canyon, but when we reached “3rd crossing”, we decided it might be prudent to check it out and walk. We wanted a good hike today anyway, and this was perfect.

	Park volunteers warned of soft sand, but it wasn’t a bit of a problem for the Tracker
	This was second crossing, still no problem for the Tracker, even though there are some good sized rocks hidden in that foot deep water
	We started walking at third crossing, where the road followed the creek, but had no real clue just what was ahead of this part

Third Crossing was a bit of a surprise, since it followed the path of Coyote Creek, quite full after the recent rains. As we walked (and Abby swam) along the road, we came upon a young man walking back checking for parts that might not be as deep as others. He had driven across, but it was up to his tail pipes and he wanted to avoid an engine cutting out. We watched him plow back through the water and thought, “Good Luck!”

Continuing on with our hike, we noticed a trail of oil running down the center of the road. UhOh. Wonder if he knows he broke something. Then as we hiked up a couple of very steep very rocky grades, we knew that 4×4 definitely means something other than even a little 4 wheel drive Tracker in some parts of this park. We hiked high enough above the Lower Willows area to look down into Collins Valley and up the wild open distance of Upper Coyote Canyon. We didn’t make it as far as the hike into Sheep Canyon or Salvador Canyon with it’s hidden palms. In fact when we looked at our excellent purchased park map, it looked as though we just barely tapped into the wild distance of Coyote Canyon. The best part about all this was the perfect hiking temperatures, and the fact that Abby could be with us, and enjoy the refreshing stream. Not often you see and hear burbling water in the desert.

Once back to the car, and driving out, we saw many more vehicles, some parked having picnics, another big rough jeepy tour thing with six folks hanging on for dear life as he dropped down into third crossing. We wondered just how it might feel for those folks bouncing around in the back of the open jeep when they started up the steep bouldery road into Collins Valley.

This park whetted our appetite for a lot more. Like many others who come here, we looked at each other and said, “This place calls for at least a month in the winter” . We want to come back and explore so much more. Before settling in to our home, we drove around some of the neighborhoods around town. There is a stillness here, even in town, that is so rare in the desert any more. It reminds me of the California desert I knew as a kid, before the sprawling thing happened to Lancaster and Palmdale and Palm Springs. The buildings are low, there are no stop lights, no big box stores, very few stores at all, although we did find the ice cream store on the way back to camp. We loved the way homes here are scattered about the desert in a pleasing manner, that feels as though they emerged naturally.

It’s much different than the overgrown trashy desert rat kind of desert that is becoming the rule rather than the exception. Looking out over the landscape here, we saw no trash, none anywhere. From the quiet dirt roads around town, the desert vistas expand all around in all directions, clean and clear and silent. It is all that I dream of when I dream of desert in winter. It’s a place to soothe the soul and quiet the spirit.

After putting together a great supper with some of that pulled pork I made before we left, we enjoyed sitting out behind our rig on the edge of the park watching the light play on the mountains. Our plans were to leave for the Tucson area Thursday morning, but that just seemed silly. “What is the rush, I said? Why don’t we stay here one more night and take some time tomorrow to go find some of the places we couldn’t see today?” Mo was up for that idea, and we went to bed with the great feeling that the next day would be relaxed and fun, and we would have time to go find all those “points of interest” that we saw on the park map.

No drama, not one bit!

The Great Valley surrounded by snow from the eastern slope.

On the road this morning by 9, we looked up the road ahead and in spite of the heavy clouds and snow peeking through here and there, we weren’t the least bit worried. Snow level 4,000 feet, pass level, something just below that. Our outside temperature reading was something like 48 degrees. No ice at that temperature for sure. By the time we actually drove into Tehachapi, most of yesterday’s heavy snows had melted, with dirty brown piles around on the sidewalks, but the roads were perfectly clear.

West of the Tehachapi’s, green valley rangeland

It only took an hour, and suddenly we were on the east side of the mountains, looking back at the beautiful snow and basking in the brilliant sunshine coming through the windshield. We decided again to skip Barstow and go directly south on 395, varying our route from last December to just add a little bit of interest. After gassing up at Kramer’s Corner, still just 3.89 per gallon, I took over the driving duties.

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East of the Tehachapi’s, open desert

Relocating Garmin Girl to the middle of the windshield where I could drive and navigate at the same time, I settled in ready to tackle LA traffic. The southern route crossed Cajon Pass, and it was fast and steep. I had forgotten how much of Southern California is really mountains rather than the basins that I remember. The wild crosshatch of faults running in all directions, with uplifts and mass wasted hillsides, huge crevasses of eroded slopes, and wild shifting geology makes for an incredible landscape. Today, for the first time in more years than I care to remember, Riverside was crystal clear and we could see mountains all around us in all directions. Almost as amazing, the traffic all the way was light and easy, with many folks kindly making way for the MoHo to change lanes when needed, and giving me plenty of room to navigate.

Garmin Girl did a great job getting me through the interchanges, and Mo tackled the I-phone and paper maps to try to figure out why the GPS units kept wanting to take us all the way east on I-10 to Indio before going south to Borrego. I kept saying, “The GPS is programmed for fastest, I think the phone does shortest, and the map isn’t detailed enough.” Mo was determined that we should go south and cross on 79, but I was a bit worried about that route since I knew there was a pretty steep drop-off into Borrego Springs. What the heck, it’s an adventure anyway, and we crossed Highway 36 last month and we decided it couldn’t be any worse than that.

So south we went, turning east on the Temecula Parkway and traveling through the beautiful wild country toward Warner Springs and Julian. Just before Warner Springs, in a huge broad valley, we came upon huge drifts of “goldfields” a common wildflower in the California foothills. The sheets of yellow stretched all across the valley, and with the snow covered peaks all around it, the contrast was incredible.

The 22s route east from Highway 79 is paved, two lanes all the way, and not nearly as narrow as the coast mountain range roads we traveled last month. The grade IS steep, and the hairpins are dramatic, but it’s over fast, maybe fifteen minutes from the summit to the basin floor at Borrego. The automatic downshift transmission, “torque converter” Mo thinks that what it is called, but whatever the name, it does a great job of holding her back and keeping us from having to use the brakes. We rolled into the State Park just in time to hear that the last spot had been taken.

I know there are a ton of places around Borrego to boondock, but without an internet connection, I didn’t have access to all that information at the moment, and it was late. Instead, we stopped in at the Borrego Holiday Home Park, reviewed by Laurie last month, and by 5 we were settled in to a nice site on the east side of the park facing open desert for 27 bucks, full hookup. I originally planned to stay at the State Park, but this was so simple, and we are only going to be here one more night, so tomorrow will be a day of exploration and we will just come back home to our little cozy spot here.

I told Mo that from now on I need to try to remember all those places I have read about, and if we even have a slight chance we might boondock, I need to have maps and locations and coordinates! Especially late in the day after driving freeways.

Tomorrow we will explore Anza Borrego State Park, and with a good weather forecast, I am really looking forward to a day in the sun.

Hiking on Christmas Eve, and heading home

I ’m sitting at my desk once again at home in Rocky Point, with snow outside the darkened windows, a blazing fire in the woodstove, and all the glory of high def big screen television illuminating the living room down the hall. Seems almost impossible that two days ago I was feeling the warm sun on my body as I hiked through the Coachella Preserve in a pair of shorts. In spite of many internet searches and phone calls, we never did find a dog friendly trail for Abby, so instead Mo spent the morning relaxing in the MoHo while I took off hiking with Laurie and Odel, who graciously offered to drive. It was the first time that I have entered the murky gloom of a desert California fan palm oasis, and I was completely enthralled. The hike through the palms was less than a mile, however, not enough to even touch the 10,000 steps that are the daily goal of my hiking partners. Instead we opted for a 4 mile mostly ridge run through the desert.

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The trail offered magnificent views in all directions, and the snow frosted peaks of the surrounding mountains made everything look all the more dramatic. With temperatures in the mid-60’s, the hike was perfect, just a few short climbs to get the blood moving, and long strolls punctuated with many stops along the way to talk about all the things that we don’t blog, aka politics, religion, and of course, all the other RV bloggers that we both read and enjoy! Stopping at a particularly gorgeous overlook, Laurie commented that she thought the huge rift below us looked like a fault. Bingo, Laurie! That was the San Andreas Fault, bisecting the park, lying beneath us. The fan palms are there due to the seeps and springs coming from the fault zone, and the fabulous warm waters of Desert Hot Springs are also a result of the active fault. Lucky us! Great hiking, hot pools, palms for shade, and no earthquakes!

Back in camp, Mo and I sat outside in the sun for a long time, until the lengthening evening shadows forced us indoors. Once it was all the way dark, we strolled through the park, enjoying all the Christmas light displays and listening to the music drifting on the evening air. With only two days of brilliant sun, and that luxurious hot water pool, the trip felt like a complete success, even with the crazy weather.

We planned to drive on Christmas, hoping for light traffic and good weather, and we weren’t disappointed. Christmas morning was beautiful, with so little wind that the mighty windmills were still for the first time since we have been here in the desert. Traveling I-10, to the 210 through Pasadena (close to my birthplace in Sierra Madre), then to I-5 and over the Grapevine was completely uneventful, except for the ker-thunkety ker-plunkety road sounds that frustrated Jeremy more than any of us. No matter how hard he tried, he couldn’t settle down in his usual spot on the MoHo dash. The road surfaces in California in many places are very old and very tired, and nowhere more so than on these major interstates. My truck driving daughter says they are some of the worst highways in the country. I would agree, especially after just returning from Florida where turnpikes and road fees make for some highways as smooth as butter and as well lit as a videogame. Ah well, eventually the I-5 smoothed out a bit, the rain stayed north of us and we made our way to Coalinga. I spent some good phone time with each of my four kids scattered around the country, and talked with friends here and there as well. Just exactly what I would have done on this day if I had been back in Rocky Point.

Near Coalinga we passed the Harris Ranch, a huge complex of restaurant, store and inn, with an interesting history. Mo spontaneously said, “Hey, how about a steak!”. We parked in the huge lot to the west of the complex and decided to see if it was possible to get in for dinner. To our surprise, we didn’t even have to wait. Did you ever eat a 32 dollar steak in a tee shirt?? It was totally comfortable, with some folks in diamonds and glitz, and others fresh off the road as we were. The service was fantastic, and the steaks were all natural, no hormones added, grass fed beef. I had a glass of knarly oak old vine zinfandel that was an experience to itself. I wouldn’t want to drink that wine alone, but with dinner it was perfect. I swear I could taste the dirt beneath the old vine in that glass. The ambience was lovely, with a huge old fireplace blazing brightly, Christmas music in the background, and twinkly lights everywhere. Turned out to be the perfect Christmas dinner for us, and I didn’t even have to cook a thing.

Back on the road for one short hour of hard driving rain and wind before we found a little KOA at the San Luis RV Resort near Gustine, where we had reserved a space by phone earlier in the day. The site was pull-through, and it just took a few minutes to hook up in the rain. We lit the flameless candle, turned on the flickering snowman, pulled all the shades, and were suddenly in our own little heaven, safe and warm, watching Christmas shows till bedtime. I love that part about RVing, the quick changes, the variety, and then the nesty safety of it all. No suitcases to lug around, to fluorescent lit front desks to deal with, just pull in, plug in, and you are home.

We spent the once again sunny Sunday morning driving to Redding along I-5, again just out of reach of the hardest rains until we landed in our little boring Redding RV Park along the freeway. There was enough time left in the day for a quick trip up the hill to Mo’s uncle living in Shingletown, so we made a quick call and left for the hills. Uncle Don was a World War II pilot, and then a commercial pilot, married to his sweet Maxine for many decades. Maxine left the world a couple of years ago, and Uncle Don is on his own now, and doing absolutely great for a man in his 80’s. We had great fun visiting and listening to airplane stories, and playing with his little Boston Terrier, Spike. Down the mountain in the dark, and before long we were again safely tucked in to our little haven. We spent our last night on the road for our big cross country trip here, and now we are here again. I would imagine we might use this park quite often, since it is just a mile or so down the road from where we store the MoHo. At $15.40 cash only with the CampClub USA card, it’s a deal.

This morning was easy. We found a place to fill the propane, and a great self service car wash big enough for the MoHo to get her all cleaned up for a few weeks in storage. Have you ever heard of a coin car wash that takes credit cards?? It was great, no quarters clinking away and no bells beeping. We just washed till we were done and paid the bill. $7.25 a steal for sure! By eleven she was tucked away in her berth and we were on the interstate driving north toward Klamath Falls. Somehow that last 150 miles seemed soooo long. For one thing, we were in the baby car, not the big cushy leather seats of the MoHo, and the cat couldn’t figure out where to be and the dog thought the cat was in her space and wasn’t happy about it. Jeremy, who is really a sweetheart most of the time, reached around the seat and slapped Abby for no good reason at all. Reminded me of a couple of kids in the car fighting for space.

Now here we are, all settled in at home. The car is unloaded, the laundry is running, the dog is sleeping at Mo’s feet and the cat is sprawled out on the back of the sofa. Just like we never left. Amazing to me how that happens.

Sunny day in the desert

Finally! When the sun does come out, it is as though I can breathe the light. I am a light addict, I know. Mo says often, “Quit worrying about it, you can’t change it”. I want blue skies, maybe a few puffy whites around, and 75 to 80 degrees or so. Isn’t that why we have an RV?? I am certainly not complaining about our gorgeous day today, however, not one bit. We started out with a swim around 4:30 am in the 24/7 hot spring pool. If you can’t sleep in this park, just go swimming. Funny thing, by 5:30 there were some other folks showing up. Crazy, I know, but it sure felt good on the bones that are tired of all the rain.

Today instead of hiking, we decided to try out the Palm Springs Aerial Tram. Knowing how quickly after a rain the skies can get hazy, I was glad that we left early in the morning and beat the crowds. We heard many languages spoken on the tram and in the visitor’s centers, and even had a great conversation with a local Palm Springs resident who was sharing the great tourist attraction with visiting relatives. I think I’ll just link to the tram information since the hour is late and I am a bit worn. Lazy? Maybe, but why rewrite it all? Sometimes people tend to avoid touristy attractions, but often they are attractions for a good reason. The quick, slick, smooth ride from the desert to the snowy mountaintop was breathtaking, and worth every single penny. Maybe it isn’t something you have to do more than once, but I wouldn’t have missed it.

We capped off the tram ride with a great long walk through some wide open desert along the flooding wash north of Palm Springs. Sadly, almost all of the nice hiking trails in this area are not dog friendly, with even leashed dogs prohibited from the trails. We wandered off into the desert toward the huge windmills that fill the valley, unencumbered by rules, people, or anything else to bother us except the ever present desert garbage. I just don’t get the garbage thing, but it seems to be strewn everywhere, huge piles of household trash, shoes, books, hangars. Abby didn’t care, and we didn’t either as long as we just kept looking up to the gorgeous skies and brilliantly shadowed mountains capped with fresh snow. It was a beautiful day and a beautiful walk. The garbage of humankind can be ignored I guess, if you try hard enough. Is it somewhat strange that all this garbage and all this opulence are just a few hundred yards apart?

After our walk, we wandered around the back streets of north Palm Springs, checking out Elvis Presley’s honeymoon house and other idyllic homes on soft quiet streets. In spite of all the road closures, we managed to find a route west of the valley that took us through open countryside and avoided another tiresome stop and go run down busy highway 111 through the palm towns. I took a ton of photos today, tried to delete as many as possible, but just couldn’t resist the magnificent vistas of desert sky and mountains. If you want to look, the rest of the photos, including shots of some of the flooding, are here.