Eating out . . .

. . . but I don’t mean in a restaurant.  We hied ourselves over the river and through the desert to a delightful KOA RV park in Desert Hot Springs, California, where the weather was conducive to enjoying all three meals outdoors.

For ages, I have wondered about the general Palm Springs area.  Just one of those places that gets mentioned a lot, and I always wondered what was the scoop.  Well, now I have to say that three days there was in no way sufficient to get more than just the briefest feel for the countryside.

My impression is of mostly exceptionally dry barren rocky and rugged mountains and featureless plains.  Our explores allowed us to find varied landscapes, but all dry; perhaps they have a rainy season when vegetation greens and blooms, but it seems fairly certain that any amount of lush growth is confined to very limited places.

Of course a good bit of my curiosity revolved around hot springs, of which the region appears to have a plethora.  Now that I have been there, I have at least as many questions as prior to that brief stay.

To my great enjoyment, our park was complete with three jacuzzi tubs and a large swimming pool, all churning away with natural hot spring water.  They are located under cover in a courtyard but semi-open to a mountain view.  They were not very populated whenever we were there, but then the park had not yet filled with what is surely a larger contingent of snow birds.

We used the spas freely whenever we were “home”, and appreciated the care and maintenance of the park.  And boy howdy, we loved the weather!  It stays pretty much 15 to 20 degrees warmer than Prescott, so we were outside all the time.

Costa's & verdins . . .

We put out our feeders at that location and were rewarded by visits from a (or several?) stunning Costa's hummingbird, one that we never get at home.  What a treat!

Other than crows, ravens, white-crowned sparrows, mourning doves and Eurasian collared doves, we didn't identify any other birds at the park, and didn't add to the trip list except for verdins that tried to help themselves to the hummingbird nectar.  

They were funny in their frustrating attempts as they reminded us of a past verdin experience.  It was after a wonderful hike near Tucson with cousin Barb.  We stopped for a meal on the outdoor deck at The Pass.  As we sat and savored the clement clime, tiny bold verdins hopped across our table, helped themselves to sugar packets which they carried to another table for a leisurely ripping open and eating the contents.  Quite the little sweet-toothed thiefs!

Getting out . . .

We wondered if it might be uncomfortably hot for hiking, but were pleased to find that it was not at all.  Knowing next to nothing about the region allowed us to engage Mr. Google to find likely places to explore.  

One destination was a preserve called Big Morongo Canyon.  Whatever I might have expected there, it was something else again.  Most of the trail through there was via a boardwalk kind of affair, reminiscent of some of the places we’ve hiked with Darren in Florida, with the necessity of it being the same - wetlands and jungle-like undergrowth.  In the case of Morongo, though, while we were there, it was dusty and dry - only one tiny trickle of water could we discern.

Lions and bears, oh my . . .

There is a longer trail that goes further up the canyon into exposed landscape; that is a good one to try out at a later date.  I did kind of wish the warning signage about the presence of mountain lions and bears had been posted at the beginning when I could have taken along the bear spray that was stowed in the truck, where it was useless to one and all.  The "oh my" part was this rusting old car body down in the bottoms; who knows why or how.

We chatted with a few folks we encountered along the way.  I thought perhaps it would be a place favored by locals; however, they were all from far-away places, mostly east coast.  In our few days in the Desert Hot Springs area, we saw almost no Arizona license plates.  I guess it’s not a popular Zonie hangout.

Mission Creek . . .

Another preserve we read about was Mission Creek.  The word “creek” in the name was the ticket to try it, but turned out to be quite a bit of a misnomer, at least during the current season.  Mission Creek is a very wide deep wash descending from the mountains - dry and dusty when we were there.

That place did not even rate a sign along the highway to alert folks that it existed, but the señor found it, nevertheless.  A washboardy dirt road the equal of any in Arizona delivered us to a gated hiking trail.  One other human was out there, departing with his thirsty pooch as we entered.  

There is quite a bit of history in that canyon . . . from an 18th century Indian reservation to a hog ranch, guest ranch and cattle ranch.  From what I can discern, the area often has flowing water and a spring that supports lush growth, not to mention drilled wells that supplied "dudes" who arrived for the experience.  I can't quibble with the price. . .

A row of roofless rock cabins line up near other ruined remains of the ranch, including a pool and an impressively large fireplace.

The fireplace shows up in the far back left of the above photo.  Below is something I found online - a cool ghostly composite by John Earl of the fireplace ruin overlaid with an actual picture of the dining room as it was back in the day.

We saw other historic ruins as we walked the gently inclined slope to the main ranch house with San Gorgonio Mountain looming in the distance.  At 11,503 feet, it is the highest peak in southern California.

I greatly admired the fireplace construction.

We were perplexed that nowhere was there the slightest information about what we were seeing.  I had to find it all later with the able assistance of Mr. Google.

It was abundantly obvious where the spring was located; however, getting through the mass of grapevines was impossible.  We could neither hear nor smell any presence of surface water.

Looking back whence we came made it clear that we had climbed a great deal above the valley floor.

Thick vegetation, mostly creosote, alongside the streambed was in stark contrast to surrounding rocky barren hillsides.

Both preserves are within the Sand to Snow National Monument and are administered by the Wildlands Conservancy, an organization that acquires private property for the purpose of preservation.  I was reminded of local Prescott efforts by Save the Dells when I learned that the Mission Creek properties acquisition eliminated two approved resort developments.  The largest included a 300-room hotel, golf course and 1,200 homes.

Joshua Tree . . .

Now designated a national park, Joshua Tree offers a vast and stunning landscape, a bit on the other-worldly side with the forests of those twisted tall yuccas.  We had previously been into the more eastern portion, which is classified Colorado Desert.  Our more recent explore was through the western section - Mohave Desert.

The place is overwhelming, in a way; a person could spend many weeks out there and never make a dent in what is to be seen.  We chose random trails from the map to take off onto, although truthfully, off-trail wandering would be perfectly alright.

The next photo shows a cross section of a Joshua tree that was destroyed in a 1999 wildfire.

We took one particular side road because it accessed an area that was up to 5,100 feet and offered a wide distant view.  This shot shows the Salton Sea way out yonder . . .

. . . and this looks out over the San Andreas Fault, visible as the dark line out in the valley.  Up close, it is a continuous line of high hills, dwarfed in this picture by the San Jacinto and Santa Rosa mountains beyond.

Climbers and flashers . . .

Another view we got up there was most unexpected, and I did not photograph it.  As we climbed up to the viewing platform, I noticed a young Asian woman clad in a long cloth coat and thought it odd.  It was cool and breezy up there, but I was still comfortable in my shorts and tank top.  She was accompanied by another woman and two men; we quickly learned why the coat.  Underneath, she was wearing only a pink bikini to match the pink beanie on her head.  Periodically, she flashed open the coat to pose for her companion who was photographing her.  I wonder what website/Twitter/TikTok that will show up on!?

There were many rock climbers taking advantage of the opportunity to practice their craft; we enjoyed watching one young woman until she reached her goal.  Seemed as if every granite face had someone going up or down.

 

 There were also denizens of the non-human variety.

Ryan Ranch . . .

History trumps pretty much everything for us, so we chose a trek out to the site of the former ranch established by the Ryan family in the 1890s.  Three miles distant from their homestead, they operated the Lost Horse Mine, supplying water for it via pipeline from their well.  

Their substantial adobe home had additional wood frame rooms.  The structure is in a state of ruin now after a fire destroyed it in 1978.  In addition to the Ryan's home, there existed a small settlement at the site; artifacts and other building ruins are visible for quite a distance. 

As always, I am happy to be home, enjoying friends and familiar places (and the opportunity to stretch out while inside; Woofie is not any too roomy), and grateful for the blessing of travel and getting to share my thoughts and experiences.  I really mean it when I say "Thanks for traveling with me!".