Joshua Tree

I'm awake in Palm Springs by 5 a.m. due to the three hour time difference. Jenn, I sense, is also awake. We both manage to flop about and doze for awhile, until 6:30 a.m., when we decide enough is enough and it's time to get up.

"Why is it pitch black in the desert at 6:30 in the morning?" I ask Jenn. "Last night the sun was down by 7 p.m."

Only, it's not pitch black. When Jenn throws open the drapes, we are blinded by the searing white heat light of the desert. It seems the drapes used by the Best Western Palm Springs are extra thick for just this reason.

After a quick swim, we grab breakfast (sans tabasco sauce which everyone seems to pour on everything), due some fast emailing and then pack up Honky and hit the road. Our first stop is some shopping in Palm Springs — the grocery store for water and more water, Target for cheap lawn chairs and underwear, and Big Five Sporting Goods for camping stove gas and that semi automatic rifle behind the counter. It's on sale — why not? We might need to keep the coyotes at bay out in the desert... You just have to love the USA...

Palm Springs is an odd town. It's quiet and spread out as you might expect for a town in the middle of the desert, but with some incredible early modern architecture from some big name architects. It's big with the retirees and we view our fair share of dottering seniors driving pristine gas guzzling Oldsmobiles and Cadillac's from the 80's. No snow, salt and rust down here!

There seems to be more than a few homeless people. Lots of Mexicans. And then the big homes and communities they do the gardening for.

Many of the streets are named after stars from the golden era like Gene Autry Blvd, Roy Rogers Lane, Bob Hope Drive and Sinatra Road. And then there is golf — over 100 courses in the Coachella Valley which consists of Palm Springs and neighbouring towns (Cathedral City, Palm Desert, Indio). That's a lot of water coming out of the Colorado River keeping those greens green.

The Valley area is known for producing dates (the fruit, not the romantic meeting) and the specialty drink is a Date Shake. Of course we have to try one! Consisting of milk, dates and vanilla ice cream, it's as sweet as it sounds and yet surprisingly tasty.




We get our errands done by noon and head out of town, past the Palm Springs Visitor Center (which is famous for its origins as a gas station designed by Albert Frey and Robson Chambers in 1965).





Back out on the I10, we're surrounded by farms of wind turbines — hundreds of them, from what we can see. Enough to power San Francisco or 1% of the state's power usage. It's pretty cool to see.




We get off the I10 and onto Hwy 62 which leads us to Joshua Tree National Park. There are three main towns along the way — Yucca Valley, Joshua Tree and then Twenty Nine Palms which is the domain of the 19,000 marines and their families who live at the nearby Marine Corps Air Combat Centre stuck out in the middle of the Mojave. It's apparently twice the size of LA and sends out the occasional resounding BOOM! Artillery practice, we assume.

We try the first entrance to Joshua Tree NP which is just outside of Yucca Valley. It leads us to a very quiet family campground — Black Rock. Being off season, there is no one manning the ranger station and so we decide to try the park entrance just north of Joshua Tree town where there is also a visitor's centre.

Here, we get the full welcoming lowdown. The ranger lady gives us map, tells us the best spot to camp, shows us hikes to try and gives us tips for dealing with bees, rattlesnakes and scorpions. Woo hoo! Scorpions, rattlesnakes and bees to go with the desert heat! Good times!

We pick up some firewood for the cool nights at the shop across the road and then drive north 5 miles to the park entrance where another friendly, no nonsense ranger settles up our NP pass (we decide to buy one for $80 — it covers all the parks we'll be visiting) and reminds us to shake out our sleeping bags and shoes in case a scorpion is hiding away. They are not venomous, but you'll get a good sting if your skin meets up with one.







We head for the Hidden Valley campground inside the park. The drive in is fabulous — spectacular rock formations, namesake trees, cacti and miles of vast desert.
















Hidden Valley is located right in the Wonderland of Rocks. It's an amazing campsite with fire pits, sturdy picnic tables, pit toilets and towering rock formations all around that resemble cubist Picasso sculptures.








We choose a site, set up the tent, have a snack and then head over to hike the Hidden Valley nature trail, a one mile loop through massive boulders which used to be a cattle rustlers hide out. It's hot, about 85 degrees, but there is a breeze and it's not too bad at all.

It's a great hike filled with photo ops at every turn. I'm on the lookout for rattlers and scorps and I'm left disappointed.

























We're both tired. The sun saps you. We head back to camp, rustle up dinner (pasta) on our new MSR stove and then enjoy the red rocks show created by the sunset.




We make a fire, watch the moon rise, look at the stars and the planes passing by overhead coming and going from LAX miles aways.

Time to hit the sack. It's cool now and perfect for sleeping.

Oh, and no scorps in the sleeping bags.

We checked. More than a few times too.

Just the peace and supreme quiet of the desert night.