I’ve been immersed once again in revisions to my book this past week. It has a way of drawing me in…hopefully it will also have that effect on its readers! So, I’m just getting back to the desert blog now.
Continuing our journey the next morning, we depart Death Valley and head southeast. It’s one of those perfectly clear days, and a joy to drive through desert territory neither of us have seen before. Crossing I-15 at Baker, we take Kelbaker Road into the Preserve.
What I don’t photograph, and wish I did, was all of the random stuff you see in the desert. Apparently it makes most people crazy. You see things in the desert you never see anywhere else, like the enormous building in Baker shaped like an alien spaceship armed to the teeth, with cheap Roswell alien knockoffs standing out front that sells—beef jerky. Why? And then there is the pickup that pulls up next to us at the convenience store, bed covered in a plastic tarp, positively reeking of ganga. Must be quite a load. It stinks like skunk.
Anyway, the Cima lava beds soon come into view on our right. Max wants to explore so I find a likely road (it looks fairly likely that it’s a road) and head in.
The road turns to deep sand, so discretion being the better part of valor, I find a place to park the Subaru and we walk over and start exploring the lava flow. It’s only a few thousand year old, wonderfully raw, contorted, bubbled, and sharp. Each piece has its own character. I find a bit that isn’t too deeply textured and make a bracelet mold from it, make some direct impressions with metal clay on other rocks.
Trying to get back to pavement is another matter. I try another route that looks more well-traveled but it turns out to be a Jeep trail with even deeper sand. Max is treated to a somewhat nerve-wracking (for him) demonstration of what, and what not, to do when driving in sand. Easy to get bogged down if your speed is too low, or lose control if it’s too high. The best bet is let some air out of your tires but I don’t have a pump. But I manage to find our original route in and we make it back to the road. I have driven worse, near the Turtle Mountains when I was alone and many miles from pavement. And no pump then either. If I did this more regularly I’d be better equipped.
After a brief recon at park headquarters in Kelso, we drive on down to the Kelso Dunes. You can’t tell it from the pictures, but the main ridge is about 650 feet high above the creosote flats. I am fighting a bug so I’m not quite up to another slog up a massive pile of sand, and it’s much cooler and windier than at Death Valley, so we wander a bit on the lower ridges, enjoying the views and listening to the wind.
Time to hit the road and get to Joshua Tree. Just north of I-40 we pass the Granite Mountains as the setting sun is turning them into a Dreamtime city in the rocks. The Mojave is made of granite.
Going south toward Joshua Tree, trying to beat the night there. Nearly full moon rising, a perfect creamy disc, earth shadow rising to overtake us. I can’t stop looking at these mountains, dreaming in colors of lavender ash under the moon. I pull over. “Hey Max, jump out and get me a picture of that, will you?” “Sure, Ma.” He’s such a good son. And a great traveling companion because he likes everything.
Next stop, Joshua Tree.
Look for it soon…
‘Till then…
Dawn