Getting to sleep was easy, but once dawn was near it grew harder to stay that way. We’re waking up at Amboy Crater, designated a National Natural Landmark in 1973. In 2016, BLM expanded the protected area to 5,700 acres surrounding the Crater to protect the lava field and micro sand dune. One of the animals protected by this is the Chuckwalla lizard which dwells in rocks and lava flows and blends in with its dark skin. They are in the iguana family and as a defense mechanism will wedge themselves in a crevice and gulp air making it more difficult for predators to remove them.

Great egrets are the most popular visitors to the park, but it’s the occasional loon or grebe that needs to be rescued from the overflow parking lot as they’ve mistaken it for a lake. I’m surprised to learn that their legs are further back on their bodies and denser, great for deep diving, but not center of gravity on land, so they are unable to walk and retake flight without the assistance of a large lake at least a quarter-mile in length. Also on the list of non-walking birds are hummingbirds that can hover, perch, and scoot their way through life.

The civil twilight behind mountains is always captivating. I’ll spend the majority of this one staring at the changing colors of the sky; while starting to pack up my sleeping materials. I capture a great sunrise photo as Caleb finishes making our breakfasts and we pack them away, uneaten, as we set off at 630am. We quickly warmed up as we started our eighty-foot ascent, a zig-zagging climb, to the rim that is one mile in circumference. There’s a path that cuts through the middle of the crater where someone has taken on the task of creating rock art.

We cool off again as we near the middle of the circumference but remain hyperfocused on the precarious ledge and the descent as sliding down so much non-skid rock would leave your body peeled more than an orange in a blender. Caleb had suggested eating at the bench on the trail before the ascent, but I was too excited to pause, so I put my appetite on hold until we were near the car again and my food was cold from using the container as a handwarmer; it still fills the void that is my gastrointestinal tract.

There’s a steady flow of trains in the distance that creates a low rumble and I think about how beautiful the world is and how lucky I am to have memories with both my parents in exploring parts of its vast grandeur. I’m even more fortunate to be able to make more of these moments with Caleb as we reminisce about our passed-on pint-sized companions who were able to get as much joy in these places as we still do. I’m grateful that we could carry their fifteen-pound bodies when they got too hot, tired, thirsty, and hurt to go on.

We drive 80 miles south and then west to find the Integratron Sound Bath in Landers; the land of beautiful skies and miles of smiles, only to find the place is closed Monday-Wednesday every week, every January, and from July to mid-September. Oh well, we can still stop and see the Crochet Museum in Joshua Tree.. or not. I thought it was outside of the national park, not in the town of the same name now 24 minutes away, which we thought would add an hour of travel but there’s another entrance for another time.

Except for one visit where I was led past Cholla Cactus Garden by a pilot car we always have this on our list of places to stop. It’s another one of those locations that seemingly never changes, but every time has a new story to tell about how the desert is doing. It also allows us to see which human will leave with cactus spines in their body, either because they wandered off the trail or purposely grabbed a piece to take home. We were going to mention this to one of the other guys in bicycle suits, and Kelvin was kind enough that we should have, but he’s not the other guy’s keeper, though he may end up helping un-prick him.

Instead, we learned that he’s from Atlanta and now works for Trek Travels, so they sent him on a five-day, 135-mile trip, to get the inside scoop on what he’s dealing with. He thinks it’s a creative way to get people interested in Trek bikes versus others on the market. He tells us about the planned stops, the helpful GPS directions, and how the company books meals and stays — a typical inclusive bike touring vacation. This has Caleb and me discussing the evolution of group travel and the technology that has helped improve the experience with weather forecasts, planning around holidays and road closures, and having your map constantly updated when you get lost.

We have a late lunch, on the quiet Box Canyon Road, out of the park before driving the length of it towards Mecca. There are tire marks in the sand and what look to be the remains of someone’s camp under a tree but otherwise this area is left to flourish with the few tavelers fortunate enough to stumble upon this short section of paved road. The Salton Sea will remain a vast mirage today as we drive south on the 86 to make our way to the Borrego Salton Seaway, another beautiful path along our journey.

We find ourselves at Mom’s Pie House in Julian, a town Uncle Ed is always sure to visit when he’s in the area. We leave with a whole berry apple pie to accompany us on the drive through the fall colors that are more common in the hills of San Diego County than the palm-lined streets closer to the beach. We’ll wash the road smell off and unpack the car before going to dinner at Pizza Port so we have less cleanup to do and can then spend the evening looking at which new lens to get for my Canon 5D Mark III.