Joshua Tree National Park, A Week Later

Posted on May 8, 2021 by TheJessicaness

We were out here just six days ago but are just as excited to see what nature has available for us today. We would be trying to find camping if we had any of our gear as we have things in California, Montana, and somewhere in transit between Manama, Virginia Beach, and San Diego to include most of our dive gear as we’ve bought things to add to our kits and purchased part of the divemaster course that we look forward to pursuing. Anyway, without a larger car or place to sleep we settle for the six hours roundtrip for a taste of seclusion.

We get an earlier start this morning, even after we turned around 20 minutes from the house to get Caleb’s camera’s charger cord that ended up not working — the ocean takes its toll on all things whether it’s salt eating gear or turtles eating jellyfish. Caleb will look for the newest model of Nikon as his favorite little waterproof photo grabber is no longer made in that version or color. Less wind moving the car this time seems to make the windmill portion of our trip seem further from the house but also smaller in total land area. 

Caleb decides that even though the map is in the car and we could add a second stamp to it that we should get the collector’s edition book so that we have another place to feed our need to express ourselves via sticker display. I used to acquire them randomly from parks that have them and brands that we agree with or a free stack from Dad to cover the scratches on my laptop but I’ve been influenced by the #vanlife and the stickers that the lifestyle has inspired. I do drive a Volkswagen now, so my dream of having a van of the same brand seems less far off even as Caleb dreams of his retirement truck. 

We stop more frequently since we have more time for me to photograph trees and for Caleb to read the educational signs along the road. We park behind a car with a child running around and the mom is curious as to if the information center is close or if they missed it. Caleb assures her it’s just a few more miles up the road. Back in the car, I wonder out loud trying to remember our first park experience and not knowing what to expect. I’d have to relate that to an international park when you have to read the pictures because you don’t know the language but most countries are accommodating of a translation of English. 

Then I wonder if perhaps it’s a during-covid concern that they have — that the ranger station will be closed and they’ll be forced to guess their way through the park. I have no idea how it was for the last year and a half, but I heard some parks were trashed in the absence of employees to help hold people accountable because they think the planet is their dumpster. This station though has a desk outside, the counter inside, and a window available as well to keep people spread out — some in masks while in proximity and others not because they’re outside. 

I enter the first stamp and we make our way behind the visitor’s center to hike the Cottonwood Springs Mastodon Peak Loop, just over two miles of trail. There’s an oasis tucked into the valley and I can imagine a small tribe hiding in here to escape the heat of the day, but there’s just tourists going off trail with their tripod and cell phones to experience the drop in temperature that the shade provides and to get pictures of the birds that I can clearly see from the trail. I wish my junior ranger badge came with the opportunity to ticket these people to recover the damage their ignorance causes. 

I understand the detriment my vehicle makes on the environment and the light pollution at night but I would delete their illegal photos and educate them on their responsibility to protect and preserve this land for others to enjoy, just as they could be. Perhaps I’m being too uptight though and we should let people go about at their leisure carving their initials into anything — trees, paintings, and manatees. They can piss on it all, which I wouldn’t even let my dog do because I have respect for things whether they’re mine or not, especially when they don’t belong to me. 

I’m starting to see the older person perspective of life. You grow up, mature, and for some reason expect others to do the same and when they don’t you begin to resent them a little more each time they make an infraction that you see as totally avoidable. But I also realize I’ve made mistakes in life and who am I to judge the seriousness of their offenses against my own. I know this goes across cultures and continents as I’ve met all types on my travels and realize the importance of education in so many ways that are lacking. I want to maintain an open mind and heart towards all creatures and let them express their true nature, regardless of whether that goes against my upbringing because the world doesn’t revolve around me. 

I appreciate the value the desert brings to the patient and curious eyes of those who seek to find its beauty. I’m grateful for the people who deem so much of the planet unworthy of their attention as it means there is more for me to see without crowds of selfie takers. My dad recently noticed that I don’t take many pictures of me in places (or that if I do I don’t post them) and I’m ok with that because I know what I look like and will watch myself age offline as I look back on these photos as the memories fade of the locations I was lucky enough to have seen. 

There’s more color in the park this time but also more trash as I pick up a can and a straw that falls apart as I hand it to Caleb. We need to bring a trash bag with us everywhere we go. It’s one of the reasons we have a spare pocket when we dive — to clean up the laziness of others but at least in the desert the tortoise has to snort the straw in pieces instead of using it whole as nostril jewelry like its sea turtle cousin. 

Each ecosystem is the most efficient artwork of its type — one that can be appreciated for the parts as well as the whole — the cacti and the mountain, the tree and the forest, the coral and the ocean — each doing their part to sustain themselves and working together to help each other create a masterpiece in their entirety. It’s for this reason that I squat down, lean sideways, and stand on my tippy toes to take in each angle of detail or to spy on something shy that’s trying to hide so I can take in the full essence of all the things my mind can’t remember about geologic history, animal science, and plant relationships. 

I stare at a shadow and though I’ve seen a time-lapse of hours and a day, I imagine what it would be like to watch a thousand or ten thousand years go by in a 24-hour video. I could watch an overhead version of one park, then zoom out to a region (county, prefecture, borough), before taking the astronaut’s view of countries progressing through an era and watching their shapes shift. Nature is a magical place that allows the mind to follow these paths, sometimes into your daily routine where it’s hard for others to follow your thoughts as they meander through possibilities and connections yet unknown to them or fully to you. 

What do history, houses, and hounds have in common? They’ve all got untold stories that people can only guess at based on the evidence left behind — a cracked rock, some chipped paint, and a chewed on table allow our minds to fill in the gaps. What a luxury it is to see nature living its truth, even if it is through filtered ideals surviving on man-made edits in a limited environment that is structured more for human ease than it is to ensure its future existence. Meanwhile, I’m sure Caleb is on the lookout for bighorn sheep and avoiding the cacti cushions so conveniently placed along our path. 

The peak is reached and more contemplation is had as we look out on the valley and then into the camera lens for proof we were here. On our descent, we pass Mastodon Mine, just one of the 300 or so in the park’s boundary, that the Hulsey family established in the 1930s and worked on and off for decades. The entrance is now barricaded from humans to protect the bats, but not closed enough to keep them safe from the trash thrown in. It saddens me that I can’t reach in there to remove it. I see the importance of parks putting more ethical plans in place but there’s not a convenient way to enforce them. 

I look at the wood that’s been there almost a century, rough and weathered, and then notice the names carved into the new boards put in place to keep the original structure standing. I could live in a place like this — teepee, hut, cave, igloo, etc. and have a minimal impact on the environment but I (as a collective) have no time to make my own bread, fix my socks, fetch my water, and create electricity enough to keep the fridge running while I type on my computer about limiting some of life’s modern luxuries so that people could have time to explore more of their minds and less of their possessions. 

Luckily for Caleb, I keep a majority of these thoughts to myself (just while we’re exploring) and tell him my second post about Joshua Tree in May will be more about the park and less about my wandering mind, but it seems I got that wrong. Then we come across a Wilson’s warbler and our focus is on seeing the bird through his thorn bush (Lycium andersonii) camouflage as he flitters throughout its branches and I take advantage of the photoshoot moment. I love that Caleb has been with me long enough now to read an opportunity as its happening — such that when I want a picture he knows to move out of frame or grab the wheel. 

We’re driving to our next hike and I see a couple with wood gathered in their arms and shoving it in their large SUV trunk like the trees are collectors’ items and not currently protected under the Endangered Species Act (which I didn’t know at the time). My junior ranger badge might not be on and I might not even have one for this park but that didn’t stop me from luckily being near a red ranger phone that I picked up immediately. It made me feel better that even if they put the wood back perhaps next time they will think twice before destroying something that isn’t theirs. 

Caleb had chosen Hidden Valley as our second major stop of the day, but there was no available parking. Since our last trip the amount of visitors has more than doubled as there are cars parked along the road as well. I choose Hemingway instead, which is mostly for rock climbers but still able to be enjoyed by those of us without extra gear or needed experience. This is a nice finish to the day before we drive a bit out of the way to save 30 cents per gallon on fuel; the price of which continues to rise. That’s the cost of travel, which as an avid adventurer I’m ok with paying more for being frivolous in my explorations. 

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Joshua Tree National Park Day Trip

Posted on May 2, 2021 by TheJessicaness
Mount San Jacinto

We were going to take this trip with Caleb’s Uncle Ed while he was in town for the last two weeks of April, but ended up staying local that day instead. Ed inspired us to get out and about, regardless of how comfortable the vehicle we ride in may be — a 2019 white Ford Fusion rental (while our’s was in the shop after being rear-ended at a red light) and our 2006 yellow Volkswagen New Beetle (with a new rear bumper that seems to drive worse now).

Anyway, today isn’t about the car. It’s about a day for us, as just us. We both grew up with people all around us all the time — they’re called siblings. Then we joined the navy and had 80+ roommates, then down to three while in A-school, then up to seven after Hurricane Katrina. We’d let a couple stay with us to save money and then we’d move in with another couple to help them save money too. We were able to live without others, not including our amazing dogs, for a majority of the last decade (minus a few transitional months on each coast). We’ve gotten used to doing things our way, not that we don’t love changing things up, especially when we travel, but we didn’t have kids for a reason.

there’s a Zebratail lizard in this photo

This trip isn’t about kids either, which is why we took it without them. We were under the impression that we’d have our own space, not be sharing our room with a large closet of soccer shoes, boys’ collared shirts, camping gear, and loads of toilet paper along with a pantry shelf for snack foods, bottled water, and powdered coffee creamer. We though that we’d have space to store our toiletries but a teenage boy, prepubescent girl, and their little sister have a way of filling up the bathroom with steam, mold, colored sticky spots, toothpaste, tape, paper, scrunchies, etc. so I tote my things in and back out.

Porcupine Wash

This trip isn’t about a lack of personal space either or getting in the kitchen to cook a non-meat meal before the family meal is made that must consist of chicken or beef and on occasion a pork loin with sauerkraut. This is about getting into the great outdoors, seeing the trees, smelling the flowers, and picking the music on the radio — as Ed prefers country or jazz or conversation — which we can all agree is better.

We get a later start in the day than we normally would as the trip was decided on as a way to escape a rainy day in San Diego and get into the sunshine that Joshua Tree had to offer. We put on shorts and 15 SPF, grabbed some bananas and pistachios, lots of water and some caffeine and hit the road. It’s amazing the immediate shift in mood when getting back to something that the last year has deprived us of. Caleb isn’t even supposed to be on this trip because it’s considered unnecessary travel (where he could pick up Covid and deliver it to his current command), which unlike his last hasn’t had to be locked down multiple times for failure to follow instruction — the only rules nature follows are its own.

Cholla Cactus Garden

As we approach the park we notice the snow-covered peaks of Mount San Jacinto in the distance and the trees in the foreground that appear to be bowing to royalty — I’ll take what I can get, even if that requires over 20 mph winds to accomplish. Caleb and I admire the windmill farm and the massive desert it creates to support wind turbines with broken blades and tops that look burnt. Hearing his mom talk on the phone about work and showers reminds me of conversations with my mom and their relaxing simplicity and of the recent post on my dad’s blog about the most difficult phone call of his life which was already six years ago. 

Joshua Trees

Time is like the wind, you can only see its effects, sometimes barely a breeze and other times a blistering barrage, such is the ebb and flow of life and finding the peace between the daily dullness and the moments that memories are made of. I drive and wonder about the possibilities of breathing the same air twice in a lifetime, but science teaches me that everything is constantly growing and dying simultaneously and the chances of two particles reuniting are infinitesimal but the effects those atoms have on us can last a lifetime; such are the influences of a parent upon a child. 

The sound of a mother’s voice disappears as quickly as the highway traffic to get to the south entrance and that’s when the windows come down and the wind fills my hair as a smile crosses my face. Caleb looks at me as his phone starts to lose signal and though their is negativity in the world, there is only positivity surrounding us now. The desert is as dry as we remember and traffic is light though camping is full. We arrive without our first mini national park passport book that we bought in 2008 or 09, Caleb’s children’s version for notes from the rangers, or my newer binder version that we got once the southeast portion was full with plans to go back and fill the rest. 

on Ryan Mountain trail

Caleb grabs a map, I put a stamp in it, and we’re off to Porcupine Wash to explore roughly 2.5 miles of the Colorado Desert in the heat of the day, which at 100*F isn’t anything we can’t handle in our shorts-clad legs and sunscreen-covered faces. This is a wilderness backpacking area and we realize that at our turn around point when we don’t know which way to go, except back the way we came, and our water is at half remaining. The desert is full of subtle colors and signs of life and we’re lucky enough to spot a couple of Zebratail lizards scurrying across the hot sand; though they prefer to keep their camouflaged distance and I didn’t bring my zoom lens. 

We left behind a few people trying to brave the poorly unmarked path (which I have nothing against) and it was just us and nature, truly two of our favorite things. We appreciate more each day the solitude and selfishness we’re allowed since we didn’t invite kids to join us for the rest of our lives and even as we look to the future, we don’t see dogs in it anytime soon because Sparky and Piggy were perfect traveling companions and we’re still ok with them living on in our memories with no need to adopt a distraction puppy because they don’t keep that cute breath forever. 

scrub jay on Mojave yucca

Anyway, so there we are, reveling in each other’s sweaty musk, holding a warm and moist hand as we listen to our feet patter over and through the grains of mountains past and feel them climb into our shoes because of course I have ventilation in the toes of mine that are perfect for this situation. Caleb’s just glad that I upgraded from flip-flops or flats which I find just as worthy on trails not covered in snow. I’m sure that’s just my youth speaking for me as my joints start to age and lose flexibility I will need more stable footwear to keep me in the outdoors for the decades to come. 

Back on the road and we make the touristy stop along the route at Cholla Cactus Garden. Last time we were here we got to witness someone being attacked by a cacti for getting off the clearly marked path. I realize for some people that the access they’re allowed now will never be enough; they feel the need to go further and faster through life than others to make some unknown claim for their “friends and followers”. So this time we get to see a high-school-aged girl pretending to airplane over a cacti while her friend films on the other side and a woman having a full conversation with another cacti, complete with hand signals. 

going up Ryan Mountain

Ignoring the idiots, we continue to appreciate the minor details showing us the cycles of life and death as the Earth struggles with its most obnoxious of predators — humans. It’s no wonder Caleb and I enjoy coming to places like this that show us a percentage of the beauty that our ancestors saw as threatening and a way to feed their families, such as other countries’ citizens continue to destroy their parks to clear land for cattle, cocoa, cotton, etc. to continue to do the same. Past this stop and we’re entering the Mojave Desert. 

panoramic views

We’ve traveled 36 miles north into the park before the split — one to the west entrance and the other to the north entrance. We’ll go right and park at Ryan Mountain. There are more trees and boulders on this side of the drive and a beautiful scrub jay watching us from a Mojave yucca and a Black-throated sparrow eyeing us from the stone steps as we ascend half the trail. We’re not worried about finishing before sunset as much as we realize we’re down to 40oz of water and Caleb still has to work in the morning. We’re roughly three hours from home without interruption and we already know we’ll be stopping at Twentynine Palms Marine base, or MCAGCC, to refill the car with gas. 

Black-throated sparrow

The trail has three other couples dispersed evenly — one that we pass bouldering, another sitting on some rocks, and the last that are ahead of us as the trail winds around the side of the mountain before the summit. We take in the panoramic views and the pops of pink and red along the route that stand out in a vista of browns, greens, and yellows before passing another couple on the return to the car. Our first stateside national park visit in 20 months went well and we have plans to do it again soon. 

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Three Days in One

Posted on January 24, 2021 by TheJessicaness

Friday morning starts with a subway ride to Manhattan (man spills his malt beverage twice) and a walk through Washington Square Park (man offers us smoke and pills) to Crop Circle so I can try a preserved veg guokui (crispy stuffed flatbread). Farid will get a bite from Mamoun’s Falafel across the street. We stop later for something else to eat, and this lady tries to sugar scrub my hands in hot water (usually something I would enjoy), but “they’re too cold and it will hurt” was my response.

She’s not one to quit easily and tries another approach: the owner has traveled 12 hours to bring this product to me and has recovered from cancer. We have another lady rush her kids past us because we didn’t have our masks on (outside, which was allowed with distancing), and glared at us while she did so. We stop at the grocery store on the way home and have a pre-dinner snack at 645 pm. I’m already tired, but I’ll make it another two hours before I go to bed.

Sheela and Farid

Farid tries to wake me a couple of hours later, hoping a nap had helped, but the jetlag has me motionless. I’m up in the dark and go back to sleep. We walk to a late breakfast at Nick + Sons Bakery, and it’s 30°F out. I get a powdered sugar cinnamon roll (soft and light with a crisp top), a cherry chai danish, and a chocolate croissant. I could see limiting myself to a one-item limit per visit if I lived so close to sweet and savory carbs with a changing menu.

We watched part of Farewell Amor, a Portuguese film about an Angolan man with a girlfriend until his wife and daughter join him in NYC, some 17 years later. We meet up with Sheela, a local friend who looks like Jameela Jamil, and walk to the park for cider before going to her place for cheese, wine, and the movie, White Tiger. A Hindi film, it focuses on a poor Indian driver who becomes an entrepreneur. We leave there for a slice (cabbage, kale, potato for me) of pie from Best Pizza on our way to a Zoom dance party that will carry into the morning.

I had enough coffee and matcha to keep me awake until my ride arrived an hour after Farid went to sleep. This would get me to the airport on my way back to San Diego faster and easier than taking the trains in the dark. The airline is garbage, and the plane shakes a lot, and I wasn’t expecting the second round of snacks, so that was nice. I’ll make my bed after Fallon and her daughter, Brooke, pick me up, and be the first one to sleep.

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Caffeine, Coffee, Cuppa

Posted on January 21, 2021 by TheJessicaness

I’m up early, so I’ll join Farid’s roommate, Eliot, in the kitchen for some caffeine and conversation. When Farid wakes up, he makes us breakfast and more coffee. We have no set plans, just to get out and see the city. We stopped for a hot cuppa from Variety Coffee and took a break in the nearby park after exploring for two hours. Father Studzinski Square is nearby to honor a pastor who served this community for over 19 years.

There is more architectural history in this city than we have time for, but a few buildings stand out. The Woolworth Building, nicknamed the Cathedral of Commerce, which opened in 1913 and maintained the title of the tallest building until 1929, the one with no windows that opened in 1974 and is still used today by AT&T, and the elaborate honeycomb-like 80-landing viewing platform for tourists called the Vessel that opened in 2019.

To get a closer view of some of these buildings, we took the East River ferry to Manhattan and returned hours later via the Brooklyn Bridge, on foot. The bridge was opened in 1883 after 14 years of construction. Just a week after opening, with over 150,000 pedestrians (not Barnum’s 21 elephants), a stampede broke out and twelve people were trampled to death. The cables are made of 19 strands that consist of 278 spun wires. These are bolted to eyebars that are encased in a 23-ton anchor plate.

King Nyani, the largest bronze gorilla on the planet, holding Farid

Cable cars would take people over for 5 cents vs one cent to walk across. In 1907, sixty trains were crossing per hour. The pedestrian toll was repealed in 1891 and roadway tolls by 1911. Legend has it that George Parker sold this bridge at least twice a week, once for $50,000, to new immigrants with money to invest, until their toll booths were shut down by the police. George spent the last eight years of his life in Sing Sing Prison. In 1950, the 2 three-lane roadways replaced the trolley tracks.

Brooklyn Bridge

We have a burger around 3pm after walking the High Line (a rail-trail project created in 2009), shower when we get home, and Farid will make us spicy pasta to go with a documentary-filled evening about octopuses and Rajasthan Gypsies.

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Welcome Back to NYC

Posted on January 20, 2021 by TheJessicaness

Williamsburg Bridge from Brooklyn

I’m in a taxi on my way to Bahrain International Airport on a Tuesday afternoon. The seatbelt doesn’t work, and the driver is on a call. Once there, I get to update my “expired” visa so I can go through passport control. Some masks have been released upon takeoff, and I can hear someone recycling food into a bag. Food service is immediate upon ascent, but no options, so I’ll be eating chicken. We land in Dubai.

I find a bunch of lounge chairs up the stairs and through security, but one lady is bent on enforcing the every-other-chair rule while people try to find a place to rest until their 3am flights. I’m reading and listening to “Rain Rain Go Away” and other songs so a mom can entertain her toddler and older sister. I have a silly thought about paying for a room, but I’m not spending $184 for three hours.

I’ll sleep uncomfortably in different chairs until the Emirates boarding process starts on Wednesday morning. I am printed a new boarding pass and wonder why the staff seem so concerned with passengers taking their phones out – they mean the plurality that some are carrying – as I see a person with three phones and two iPads. I get an hour nap in the row to myself and awaken to drinks and breakfast in the cabin, and snowy mountains out below.

I’ll stretch while waiting for the loo and ask a crew member for a croissant. I get three with some more fruit, too. I go back to sleep for a couple of hours and upon waking, plan on repeating the steps above. I forgot that my mask had come loose, so I’d taken it off (I’ve never slept in one before), so I didn’t think to put it on to get up until the awkward looks sent me back to my seat. I ask for another sparkling water to go with my tasty tofu and hard chickpeas and receive two.

I’ll take another nap, play some new plane games, and though my eyes burn, I’m done sleeping. I brushed my teeth as the residue was disturbing. I want the type of mirror in the loo as it allows spots to be wiped away with ease. I go for a coffee and find the chocolate stash, along with other snacks and drinks, left out to limit contact between crew and customers. I watch the skycam as it offers peeks through the clouds that would otherwise go unnoticed. We land in NYC.

I waited about thirty minutes for my luggage, which seems to be the average. There are reusable plastic bags available for protection. I fill out another form and then go to the Skytrain. At Howard Beach Station, I pay $11.50 and am confused about how to continue once through the turnstile doors until a security guard tells me to go through the gate. It’s windy on my two-minute wait on the A-line that will connect me at Broadway Junction to Hewes St., where I’ll meet Farid.

“Of all that breathes and crawls across the earth, nothing is feebler than man.”

I haven’t been in New York in years and don’t think I’ve ever been without Caleb. This ride is a little bumpy with rough starts. I’m feeling spoiled after the smooth landing and great services on the plane. There’s nothing like rushing to get to the proper platform (way faster here than in London) and being greeted by the smell of weed and a man begging on the train. We’ll walk to the water and get wine and tacos to eat at home for WWW (Wine and Weed on Wednesday).

We are joined by Shanta and her husband from Romania, and another friend, Shahanna, who will stay about two hours. I’m getting ready for bed about twenty minutes after they leave so I can be asleep before tomorrow.

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