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Did you ever wonder why it’s called Mount Rushmore?

          I did.

          Why is a colossal monument to four of our esteemed Presidents named after someone we don’t know?

          The answer is easy my friends, it was named Mount Rushmore way before Gutzon Borglum and his elite team of sculptor-bots started their transformations back in 1927.

          More on that later.

          After our three-day stay at Camp Winnebago, where we had stuff fixed that-we-hadn’t-planned-on-but-were-glad-it-broke-on-our-way-there, (like our water heater), we drove northward for a few hours.

           This leg of our Great Eastern Migration of 2021 was commenced last Friday at 3:30 PM when Matt, our Winnebago Project Manager, declared the Patient fit and able to leave Winnebago General with no reservations. That was good news because as of Friday morning, Matt was only about 50/50 on whether or not the repairs would be done on time, with the possible return to the hospital on Monday hanging in the balance.

          With our first destination of Vadnais Heights, Minnesota set into Miss GPS, we ventured north to the Minneapolis-St. Paul region. Vadnais Heights is the home of one of Paula’s’ best friends from High School. Claire, and her husband Craig, met us warmly in front of their home and had a very nice dinner waiting for us. Grilled Brats, an awesome homemade warm potato dish, the likes I’ve never had before, and an incredibly fresh fruit salad were the perfect meal for us.

          Claire and Paula  share the same hobby-craft of quilting.

          Claire is one of those ladies that take it to the extreme and produce award -winning quilts that will become rare collectors’ pieces in the future, so tour of Claire’s Quilt Room Extraordinaire was certainly on the must do list.

          It did not disappoint.

          After a few hours we needed to return to Walmart of Vadnais Heights. Even though Claire and Craig wanted us to stay, we were uncomfortable with leaving the motorhome unattended  all night long and there was no way it was going to fit in their driveway, so off we went to prepare for the next days Westward Push into unknown territory.

          Our first stop was in Murdo, South Dakota, the home of the Pioneer Auto Museum, founded in the Great Year of 1954! (Paula and I were both founded in that year also!)

          The Pioneer Auto Museum was to be our home for the next two days as we explored the eastern part of the Black Hills region of South Dakota. The museum is a member of the Harvest Hosts group, the mostly farms and wineries that make a few spots available for overnight RV travelers on their property. As you can see, it is not exclusively for farms, et al.

          The Museum was as about an eclectic assemblage of Americana collectibles as I’ve ever encountered. As the name implies, cars are the number one attraction, and it does not disappoint on that count. In fact, it doesn’t disappoint on any count except they may want to go around with a dust mop every now and then, but then, maybe that’s part of the earthy vibes this place oozes. It’s got that hokey-hometown- local-attraction that seems available only in a far-flung western town like Murdo.

           It was a pleasure to be there and support this still-in-the-family-business!

          While we were there, we drove the Lifeboat sixty miles to the west and entered Badlands National Park. Of course, we left our Get Into Any National Park Forever Card in the motorhome, so we had to pay again to gain entrance, but it was worth it!

          This place is unworldly with all of its geologic formations, colors, and terrain. It was Sunday and we practically had the place to ourselves. Getting there early certainly helped as we could see more folks arriving as the day progressed. The day was nice enough, better than rain, but we wished for a tad more sun, mainly for photos sake.        But were sallied on, making the best of it!

          Again, wondering how this place got its name, we found out that not just one, but two former residents of these here parts, in their own languages, named it Badlands!

          The Lakota people were the first to call this place “mako sica” or “land bad” and the French-Canadian fur trappers that made their way through the area called it “les mauvaises terres pour traverser” or “bad lands to travel through”.

          So, who are we to argue with such a cool name!

          As usual, every turn you make provides a scene prettier than the one before it and after a while you enter sensory-overload and yield to the overdose with pleasure.

          I promise you that the following photos do not do it justice!

          When we were finished in Badlands, we drove into the town of Wall, home of the absolutely World-Famous Wall Drug Store. This place needs to be experienced to be believed, but since we were there and you were not, I will endeavor to do it justice.

          The backstory,

          In 1931, a young lad named Ted Hulstead, wanted to find drug store in a little town to buy and run for his business. He located Wall, population 231, and bought the drugstore. Business was a little slow so his wife Mary decided that they should offer free ice water to the parched travelers going to and from Mount Rushmore.

          As they say, the rest is history!

          And…. You can still get free Ice water today!

          You can also get Coffee for a nickel, high quality Western Boots, beautiful Native American jewelry, original Western artwork, classic books based on local legends, stories, and history, Incredible homemade donuts, full menu lunch and dinner, an 80 foot brontosaurus, and all of the tchotchke’s that you would expect at a tourist destination.

          Oh, and by the way, you can still get your Rx filled because the current owner and grandson of Ted is also a Registered Pharmacist as was his father and of course, grandfather.

          To say the place was jammed when we were there would be an understatement.

          We left Wall and went back to Murdo, spent the night and the next morning retraced our steps from the previous day, this time with Biggie (with Lifeboat attached) and travelled westward on Interstate 90 towards Rapid City, South Dakota, and the heart of the Black Hills Region.

          Lots to see in this area, so we made our home at another Harvest Hosts venue, the Sick ‘n Twisted Brewery, which is also the home of Naughti Wineries, makers of Naked Wines.

          No. I am not making this up, and since this is a ‘Family Post Site’, I will spare you some of the play-on-words names of the aforementioned wines.

          (But you can look them up! 😊 )

          Our first venture was to Mount Rushmore National Monument, which was alluded to in the beginning of this post.

          I’ve always looked at photos of Mt. Rushmore, which arguably is the most famous and recognized  work of art of this type in the world, and thought, “It’s ok, no big deal”.

          You go, look up, say to yourself, “Been there, done that, let’s go.”

          Yikes! Was I ever wrong!

          This place almost defies description in its grandeur and sense of permanence.

          Which I believe is exactly what Mr. Borglum had in mind when he was approached to get his opinion of a project that was proposed for a different part of the area. A South Dakota historian, Doane Robinson, had an idea to carve the likenesses of famous western personalities (including Crazy Horse, the Sioux Chief) onto rock spires, called The Needles. He convinced Senator Peter Norbeck to sponsor it and there it got its footing. When they approached Mr. Borglum, they were informed that the Needles were not appropriate for carving out what they had in mind. Way too soft and crumbly for any permanence. Mr. Borglum suggested the nearby granite mountain, Mt. Rushmore and pitched his idea for the Presidents. It’s obvious by now how this panned out and the nation took to it by storm, with the unveiling of each President (as it was finished) being a media event.

          The idea was conceived in 1925, started in 1927, and finished in 1941.

          As with anything of these proportions, both in size and meaning, the process was rife with it’s share of controversy. The Lakota Sioux were not happy because this area is considered sacred and to add insult to injury, it was originally given to the Lakota in a treaty but was then taken back by the Government. (As an aside, there is a nearby mountain being transformed into the likeness of Crazy Horse astride his galloping horse currently under construction.) Funding was also an issue, the original carvings were to be completed showing the figures from the waist up, but as you can see, that never materialized.

          The presentation to the public of this Monument is left to the care and interpretation of the National Park Service and they do a fine job on all levels explaining this whole process from the beginning to present day. While we were there, construction on a new entrance and Grand Gallery that showcases the Monument was just being finished. All granite (nicely tying it all together), each State and Territory is represented along the facades of the walkway, until you reach the expansive viewing overlook that is almost as impressive as the view before it.

          The visit was well worth it, and it comes highly recommended by the P and D Wandering Touring Company of which we are the Founding Members 😊

          After leaving Mount Rushmore, we headed for Custer State Park and it sixty-mile nature/scenic drive through the heart of the Black Hills. As with the Badlands, the weather could have been a little sunnier, but so far we haven’t been able to control that! In fact, we had a fair number of flurries that afternoon, which succeeded in both freezing Paula and making the photos of far-off mountains appear fuzzy.

          Oh well….

          In any event, the trip was a very enjoyable trek through the Black Hills. The road meandered in and around the peaks and valleys of the region, showcasing the best. The spires of the Needles were dramatic, and one could see why they were the first choice of Mr. Robinson for his sculpture idea. The wildlife here is abundant, with a herd of Bison (not really Buffalo, but that’s a conversation for another day) and Pronghorn, a kind of, but not really, ‘antelope’ (we can have that discussion at the same time as the Buffalo one).

          I can feel a Western Taxonomy post forming in my brain, I will warn you if it ever breaks out.

          We were going to spend an extra day in the region which would have been totally worth it had the weather been a little more cooperative. There were many more scenic drives available but viewing these wonders in questionable conditions led us to cut our stay short by a day, and head back to Texas.

          Yup, plans changed in the short time from when we planned this Western Excursion until now. Paula has a chance to visit with some relatives that she hasn’t seen in over twenty years and guess where they are travelling to?

          Right again! Texas!

           Just a short hop from our Home Base.

          So, off we went.

           But on the way down we decided to take as many back roads as possible. We first headed to the Lakota Tribe Reservation, in southern South Dakota, also known as Pine Ridge. Our ultimate destination was Wounded Knee, the site of the 1890 massacre. The story is as bad as the word alludes to and I am not going to go into the details here. Suffice it to say that it epitomizes the way the Native Americans were thought of and sometimes treated at that time in our history. I do recommend that you just look it up and/or read/watch “Bury My Heart at Wounded Knee” a 1970 book and a 2007 HBO Award-Winning adaptation of said.

          Taking the back roads through South Dakota, Nebraska, Kansas, and Oklahoma exemplifies how vast our nation’s heartland is. If you are looking for an exciting, look all around you, sort of journey, Do Not take the back roads!

          If you are looking for a quiet, no stress, same rural farmland scenery for endless days kind of trip, then the back roads are exactly what you are looking for! There was a stretch in Nebraska, as we headed south, that there was no one in front of me or behind me (as far as I could see, which was approximately 2 to 3 miles each way) where we drove for 76 miles with no one there !

          I know because I kept track!

          The states out here have an interesting way of dealing with winter weather on the major roads.

          They just close them.

          There are gates on the Interstates, and signs, that just shut it down! Can you imagine just shutting Route 80 in North Jersey down for any length of time? Anarchy would ensue and effigies of Trenton officials would be duly dealt with!

          Fortunately, we did not need to deal with those scenarios!

          We are almost back in Texas as I write this. We will be able to use our new “pad” that we had poured at Danny and Kaitie’s house for the Motorhome to sit on. Much better all around for everything from stability to helping keep it all clean. We had it poured just before we left and did not expect to see it again until September, but here we are!

          We will be finishing the Western Leg (Colorado, etc.) after the brief hiatus back in Texas.

          Stay Tuned!

Mason City, Iowa.

          What could possibly be here?

          As we’ve found out so many times in our relatively short tenure in this Full-Time Motor Home Traveling lifestyle, you’d better look around because something ALWAYS becomes significant!

          Well, the nickname of Mason City is the River City, as is in,

“Well, Ya got trouble, my friend,

Right here in River City, trouble with a capital “T”

And that rhymes with “P”  and that stands for pool!

          You guessed it, Meredith Willson was born and raised “Right here in River City” and wrote the Music Man with his hometown in mind. He started his thinking process in 1948 and shopped it around producers in New York, with varying amounts of success, until (after tweaking it a bit)  it hit Broadway in 1957 garnering 5 Tony Awards including Best Musical. Later, in 1962, the premier of the Warner Brothers Musical was held at the theater here in Mason City.

          As if that were not enough, Mason City boasts one of the best collections of Frank Llyod Wright’s Prairie School Architecture in the world. Including the only hotel, The Park Inn, designed by Frank left standing. A short walk around town, especially in the Rock Grove section, yields many examples of his work. These are all the homes of some very lucky folks!

          I have some photos of the hotel and homes attached, but unfortunately, the “76 Trombones leading the Big Parade” were not available for photo’s when we were there!

          So, our traveling lesson for this week ends here.

           But who would have guessed ….

          Little ’ole Mason City, Iowa …..

          Buddy Holly, Frank Lloyd Wright, and The Music Man, all here for your traveling pleasure!

          It doesn’t get any better than this!

People still come, even after 62 years have passed.

          When we were there, a middle-aged couple helped an older man, probably one of their fathers, walk over to the roadside tribute. He was too frail to be able to walk the quarter mile into the cornfield to visit the actual crash site.

          He looked sad.

          I’m sure that he was a fan, and this was the only way that he could pay his respects to someone who meant something to him.

          But contrary to the current catchphrase coined by one of the best lyricists in the modern rock era, Don McClean in his 1971 song, American Pie, “The day the music died”, the music of Buddy Holly, Ritchie Valens, and J.P. Richardson (The Big Bopper) still lives on and is as important today as it was then.

          I know, because we built a business around it.

          The only other artist from that era that had as much influence was of course, The King, Elvis Presley. Mind you, this in no way diminishes any of the work or other artists from that era, but it seems that these two just rise to the top.

          I don’t know of any other era that sparked any kind of themed restaurants. As fun as the 60’s, 70’s, 80’s and 90’s were, the anchor seems to be the 50’s and I’ll let it go at that.

          So here I find myself the northwest corner of Iowa, having the motorhome worked on in a little town called Forest City.

          I know the story; it was a cold snowy night in the winter of 1959. The concert ended and the buses that carried the headliners and musicians from some god-forsaken city to the next night after night, were drafty and had no heat. Buddy Holly got fed up with this and chartered a small plane for himself and three others. The story varies a bit but either by chance, coin flip, or necessity, the other two passengers found themselves the ‘Lucky” ones with the extra seats.

          They weren’t found until the next morning, only 5 miles away from where they took off.

          So, I said that I knew the story.

          What I didn’t know was where it all happened. I knew it was somewhere in the Mid-West, but this place is huge and if anything defines the Mid-West, it’s ‘corn fields’.

          When I found out that it was near here that it all occurred those may years ago, I knew that we needed to visit.

          Near doesn’t do it justice, in  reality it’s here.

          The town of Clear Lake, where they played their last concert and the airport where they took off from are right next door. The field is in between.

          It seems fitting that the day was not perfect. Cloudy, windy, and cool, although not wintery, seemed to be more fitting for a visit to both the crash site and the venue, the Surf Ballroom.

          From the beginning the crash site has been visited by thousands and thousands of people. The farmer who owns the land keeps a path to the site mowed and free of crops, so that folks can come and visit. The Surf Ballroom, which looks like a small high school gymnasium, is now on the National Register of Historic Places and thankfully still holds small music gatherings. It’s hard to believe that back in the day that this type of place was standard issue for promoters to showcase national talent.

          No Madison Square Garden.

          No Giants Stadium.

          Nothing larger than a high school gym.

          Filled with screaming kids dancing their feet off.

          That old man looked sad as we passed him on our way to the crash site.

          Maybe he was one of those kids.

Well, it’s time to hit the Road again.

          No more lollygagging around nice, warm, Texas anymore!

           Time to do an oil change, kick the tires, and clean the windshield because it’s time to get out of here and head North, then West, then a little Southwest, and finally start to come East on the

Great Eastward Summer Migration of 2021!

          Texas is waaaay too hot and humid in the summer, so off we go, and we won’t be back until we hear that great ‘60’s group from Paterson, New Jersey, singing ‘See You in September’!

          This means that new posts to this blog should be forthcoming on a more regular basis. I’m fairly sure that no one needed or wanted to hear about the day-to-day drivel that encompassed my life while just sitting still in the Great State of Texas.

          Which was very comfortable (most of the time).

          Except for the Once-in-a-Hundred-Years-Freeze-and-Ice-Storm-Event that was well documented on these pages a few months ago.

          Now our Travels will take us on a circuitous route back to New Jersey for the summer.

          Starting in Iowa where our big baby will get some much-needed TLC from its Birth Mother in the maternity ward of Winnebago General.

          From there we plan to drive westward, with some stops in the Badlands, Yellowstone National Park, and finally meet Paula’s friend Nancy in Missoula, Montana for lunch. Just because Nancy will be there for a few days and, most importantly, we can.

          From there we will head south to the Great Salt Lake and a few other sights in Utah before landing in Durango, Colorado for a visit.

          When that concludes, we drive Eastward, maybe stop in Nashville, Tennessee and Charleston, South Carolina to visit friends before heading up the Eastern Seaboard to Annapolis to visit Mr. Ritter, my friend and former owner of Ritter Food and Sysco. We finally roll into New Jersey around the third week of June where we will set up camp using Sussex County for a base while visiting family in Maine, Vermont, and Boston with the requisite ‘Down the Shore’ excursion planned for August.

          September sees us headed back west to Texas and points further West until it’s time to park for an extended period.

          Stay tuned (tomorrow) for continuing posts!

What do Kid’s Cars and Motorhomes have in common?

          They both break at times.

          The Kid’s Cars were used at the Chatterbox to serve the kid’s meals in. Made out of cardboard and needing to be folded into their shape, they sometimes met their fate, and had collisions, complete with ketchup  drizzled about for realism. When they came apart, my always awesome staff would “repair” the cars for the little kid that was about to have a meltdown because their car came apart.

          Problem solved.

          The motorhome is a different animal. I do a lot of the maintenance myself, but there are some issues that I am not even remotely qualified to attempt.

          Like the really big, 24-foot slide-out that has a motor and track problem.

          This requires the slide to be entirely extricated from the body of the motorhome.

          Which requires a really big forklift type thing to hold it.

          It also requires making a several days trip to where it was born.

          Off to Forest City, Iowa, just this side of the Minnesota border!

          It is here where the folks at the factory have both the expertise and equipment to handle a job like this. Believe it or not, the price to do this at the factory was reasonably low. They will also fix a few other issues for us while we are there.

          So, today is Monday, April 26 and this adventure starts our Great Eastern Summer Migration of 2021!

          A short, but very important, back pedal if I may. You probably noticed the photo of a young lady and me at the top of this post.

          This is Darcy from Kid Stuff Marketing in Topeka, Kansas.  Darcy and I have been friends for over 17 years, but we have never met until today. Darcy was my contact at Kid Stuff, and I would call her at 7:31 every Monday morning (they opened at 7:30) for all the years we had the Chatterbox. I was always her first caller on Mondays. We talked about our children and families, heard about each other’s vacations, graduations, and weddings.  I told her years ago that someday I would get out there and visit in person.

          Someday.

          So, when this trip to Winnebago Land came up and I realized that Topeka was just a (relatively speaking) short detour, we decided that if everything looked good in the morning, that I would give Darcy a call and invite ourselves up for a visit.

           I called her at 7:31 today 😊

          She was surprised.

          Darcy told me that when she saw my name pop up on the caller ID, she was like….. “Nahh, couldn’t be.”

          But when I said, “Hi Darcy, It’s Don!” she knew it was for real.

           We arrived at lunchtime, Darcy came out to the motorhome and we had  great visit. A chance to get caught up on family news, (we couldn’t believe how big the kids got), you know, all the important stuff.

          Just one of those ‘Someday’ bucket list type things that usually never get done.

          But meeting nice people that you’ve known forever should get a higher place on that list.

          I’m happy that I made the ‘Someday’ be today.

‘Two roads converged in a desert,

 and we – we took the one less traveled by,

 and that has made all the difference’

          Actually, we decided that the last thing that we wanted to do was travel any more than we needed to on the accursed Interstate Route 10.

          Miss Garmin, our mostly accurate and adept Travelling Soothsayer, recommended that the route to Flagstaff be voyaged by retracing our steps and head East on the 10 and hang a left at Phoenix and proceed northward on the 17.

          We did not want to do that.

          We wanted to go a different way.

          Travelling while retired is taking a toll on my 66-year-old psyche that always strove to take whatever path, at whatever cost, in order to arrive at whatever destination, early.

          Not on time.

          On time is for Losers.

          Early.

          Early is for winners.

          In retirement, my battles have changed. They no longer are centered around my, or someone else’s deadlines. It is actually quite refreshing!

          The only Deadline that I am concerned with now has the root word of the previous italics-enhanced word in it.

          So, throwing Miss Garmin’s recommendations to the wind, and cringing at the thought of incurring her wrath,

( “Re-routing again! Look you idiot! How many times am I going to have to do this?”)

We hung that left about a hundred miles early.

          In the thriving metropolis of Desert Center.

          Desert Center does have a Post Office (serving the several inhabitants of it’s thirty square mile designated borders. It also has two towing companies (which are kept busy servicing the desolate roads in the area, salvaging inept folks that try their hand at Four-Wheeling in their little rented two-wheel drive vehicles with about 4 inches of ground clearance) and a California Road Department Depot.

          That’s it.

          Our left turn started our ‘Journey into the Abyss’ by directing us onto RT 177 North. We needed to be on this road for 117 miles, destination Interstate 40 in Needles, California. You may be familiar with Needles. It is the town where Snoopy’s mustached, hat-wearing brother, Spike lives.

          We did not see Spike.

          Back to the Road Less Travelled.

          I am going to post some of the photos that I took looking forward from the Flight Deck of the ‘Desert Tortoise’, as we did not exceed 50 mph the entire way.

          Nor did we want to.

          The scenery, albeit somewhat repetitive, was fascinating and we never got tired of it.

          Our only complaint was trying to navigate through all of the traffic on this congested by-way.

          The photos will illustrate this point succinctly.

Now for your viewing pleasure, I’ve thrown in two more at the end to see if you had the patience to wade through boring, repetitive Desert Landscape illustrations !

So we took the Road Less Traveled, and guess what?

We were early!

Early because we didn’t have any particular time in mind.

Early because we didn’t have a schedule

Early because we’re retired and just wanted to go to Cracker Barrel and then retire for the evening!

Up until now, the only thing that I knew about Dates, is that if they went bad, they could kill you.

          I learned this from the scene in Indiana Jones / Raiders of the Lost Ark when Indiana’s old friend Sallah, who noticed the dead monkey on the floor next to the Date that he had attempted to eat,  quickly snatched away the Date that Dr. Jones was about to catch in his mouth, saying only, “Bad dates.”

          So, I’m sure that no one could blame me for being a tad leery about visiting  Shields Date Garden in Indio, California. Complete with a Café, this establishment has been around since 1924 and when we arrived for lunch and to stroll their Garden, I did not detect any dead patrons sprawled around on the ground after eating a bad Date.

          Phewf!

          Either they were very careful about making sure that the Dates they served were wholesome, or the movie exaggerated the effects of poisoned Dates on Capuchin Monkeys.

          Not sure and don’t care.

          I was happily surprised to find a wonderful experience awaiting us. First, you will need to endure my requisite ‘History Lesson’ before I  regale you with the details of our visit.

          The year was 1924 when Floyd and Bess Shields started their little shop and started to cultivate not only their Date Palms, but a thriving business as well. Floyd would set up lectures during the day and his customers would learn from him all about the benefits of, and various uses of his home-grown Dates.

           Floyd was a pioneer, at least in Southern California, (because how can someone be a pioneer in 1924 when Dates have been cultivated for about 5000 years in the Middle East) developing several hybrids of Dates, blending the characteristics of different ones in order to develop uniquely tasting new ones that quickly became favorites of his clientele.

          What stands as a testimony to both his horticultural expertise and business acumen is Shields Date Garden, a wonderfully nostalgic enterprise that is situated on about 20 acres of extremely valuable real-estate, right in the middle of the very popular Coachella Valley. The Gift Shop has all of the varieties of Dates that are grown there, along with other products that Floyd developed such as, Date Crystals (A blend of dried dates that can be used as toppings or in recipes) and  Date Sugar, (a sweet product that can be substituted for regular sugar in some recipes, with all of the health benefits of its fruity source).

          What you don’t necessarily expect at a stop like this is a restaurant of the highest caliber. The Café is as popular as the store is and after eating there, the reasons were evident. For a restaurant to succeed, no less excel, it needs to be above expectation’s in any two of three aspects: quality of the food, service level, and ambiance. An establishment can survive with any two of these being great and the third being average. The Café at Shields Date Garden excels at all three! The menu was more varied than I would have expected and judging by the popularity of the Café, it all seems to work nicely. Paula  had a very fresh grilled chicken salad and I figured that I needed to try something with Non-Poisonous Dates in it, so I chose Pancakes (Homemade with Date ‘flour’) and a Date ‘Butter’ that has tons of applications.

          When lunch was finished, we strolled through their Date Orchard and Gardens.

What immediately came to the forefront was how devout the Shield’s must have been because there, sprinkled around the Walk, were various statues of Christ interacting with other figures of the New Testament. It was very well done and I’m quite sure that these concrete statuaries were made specifically for the Shields. I could detect no evidence of any mass-production.

          We got the feeling that this place has to be very popular during the Easter Season.

          With any amount of luck, Shields Date Garden will be around for another 97 years!

Disclaimer: For those of you who usually view this on your phone, I would like to suggest that you wait until you can log onto your laptop because I plan on posting some of these photos at their full size and I’m not sure how that will translate on a small screen.

But we’ll find out!

          So, we did! in fact, we took three of them. Two in Joshua Tree National Park and one in Tahquitz Canyon, which is on the tribal property of the Agua Caliente Band of Cahuilla Indians.

          Joshua Tree National Park is one of those wonderfully otherworldly places on the planet that the western part of the U.S.A. specializes in. Everywhere you look is prettier than the scene that you previously were awestruck at.

          It takes a special kind of place to accomplish this feat and while Joshua Tree does not have a monopoly in this arena, it has plenty to stand on its own with.

          Joshua Tree is a mecca for the outdoor enthusiast, with Rock Climbing being the pinnacle of the featured activities there. Climbers from around the world come to J.T.N.P.  to hone their skills while enjoying the local weather that comes from being situated in what is commonly referred to as a ‘High Desert’. High Desert’s are typically range between 4000 and 5000 feet in elevation. The region that J.T.N.P. is mostly located in is known as the Mojave Desert. But hold those horses Amigo!

          Joshua Tree is actually in two deserts!

          The Mojave in the higher western part of the Park, and the Colorado Desert in the Eastern half of the Park.

          Confused?

          You bet!

           Because where these deserts all mingle together not only includes these two, but also the Sonoran to the South East and Great Basin to the North. Mix in some smaller regions with their colloquial names and you’ve got a recipe for Desert Confusion.

          Suffice it to say that it’s a desert.

          Little rain, lots of sun, hot days, and cool nights.

          Perfect for just about any outdoor activities.

          We came upon several Climbers while we hiked, and we stopped and watched for a while. The craziest ones we saw were scaling a vertical pinnacle that looked like a miniature El Capitan in Yosemite.

          Now before you go getting your climbing ropes in a wad, I’m not suggesting that this rock was anywhere near as grandiose as El Cap, just that the vertical face reminded me of that.

          And I admire anyone who could scale it!

          I took some photos of these bug-like climbers while we were on our afternoon hike to the old Ryan Ranch outpost. When we were finished with our hike we road around in the local campsites and happened upon two young folks that had climbing gear slung over their shoulders. I stopped that car and asked if they had just come off of that large pinnacle rock over there.

          When they nodded in the affirmative, I introduced myself.

          “Hi, I’m Don and I’m your new best friend.”

          Looking a bit quizzical for a moment I explained that I took some great shots of them climbing and if they gave me an email, I’d get them over to them.

          To say that they were excited would be an understatement!

          Here are the photos that I sent to them.

          Joshua Tree’s received their names from the early Mormon settlers who said that the tree, with it’s upward-reaching arms and “fingers” reminded them of Joshua in the Old Testament and his habit of praying with outstretched arms towards Heaven. These trees are actually a relative of the Yucca plant, a more widely spread succulent that thrives in these desert regions. The Joshua Tree is a bit more particular in its choices for growing environments. It requires higher elevations and specific sandy-type soils to grow. Note in the pictures how widespread they are they are. This is their way of making sure that each tree has enough moisture to survive. If they were any closer together, the ground would not have enough retained water in it for all of them to exist. It’s kind of like a natural ‘Dry Farming’ that the Native Americans used long ago when they planted single stalks of corn about six feet apart so that there would be minimal competition for the little moisture that was retained in the soil.

          Now you know how to survive in the desert.

          If you are a plant!

          Our first hike that morning was a loop trail that went through Hidden Valley, a ‘bowl’ if you will, that back in the day, was used by cattle rustlers because it was…’hidden’ and its formation is such that it is a natural corral.

          Only one way in and out (If you are a cow!)

Here are some representative photos for your viewing pleasure 😊

          After lunch we went on the aforementioned Ryan Ranch hike.

This place is from the early 1900’s and was built using adobe, which as you can see, is still there. These guys also had a gold mine down the road and the water from the well at the ranch supplied the needed water for the processing of the gold.

          They had a nice view from their homestead.

        

 Tahquitz Canyon

The next day, Saturday, we got up early and went down to the outskirts of Palm Springs where the Agua Caliente’s have a hike to a nifty waterfall that is on their ancestral lands. This Tribe has ties to this area that go back almost 5000 years. They own about 6700 acres within the city limits of Palm Springs which makes them the single largest land holder there.

          The hike was about 2 miles round trip and had almost 300 feet of elevation change. The trail followed the brook that formed the canyon and ended at the Waterfall. The water is from snowmelt this time of year so you can imagine how cold it was.

          There was one young guy that had to jump in the pond and make his way out to the rock in the middle for his photo to be taken. Apparently he and his family came here back in the day, years before you needed to pay a fee to access it.

           I’m sure his family will appreciate his efforts!