Joshua Tree

Which do you think was mine?

Every once in a while, a pastry is a marvelous thing. This one was not even particularly flaky or particularly buttery or even particularly delicious (though my bite of Maeve’s tells me I may have just chosen the wrong one.) But, it was a marvelous thing because we found it at a German bakery in the middle of the desert in Arizona where the walls were lined with beautiful photos (some taken by a man Sam met earlier in the bookshop at Grand Canyon! Sam marveled not so much at his work but at his array of lenses.) and because Dan didn’t even pause before he turned in. He turned in because he knew it would make us inordinately happy.

One of the many abandoned homes nearby

Then, just a little farther down the road, as we were deep in to the Colorado Desert, not quite into the Mojave Desert, things began to get a little weird. Maybe it was the ethereal light? Maybe ii was that we’d not planned on there being absolutely no services for 200 miles and we didn’t have enough food or water or gas? Maybe it was because it was 42 degrees Celsius? Maybe it was because once we did reach a town, most of the houses were boarded up or abandoned? But, it all felt a little… eerie. Or, sort of like we were plunged into a Jim Jarmusch movie, unasked.

Making friends with local rodents

We found gas and dinner and headed up the hill to Joshua Tree National Park where there were, gratefully, tent spots open. This is when things switched from eerie weird to awesome weird. Our tent site was filled with giant boulders leaning on and on top of one another – perfect for climbing on top of and viewing the incredible night sky. I think, finally, the kids’ interest in the stars has been piqued. I assured the kids that the scat next to the tent was very likely another camper’s dog. Then, in the middle of the night, I assured Maeve that the howl and yipping was just a rooster. It was a coyote, of course, which was all terribly cool. In the morning.

Joshua Tree

In the morning, it was still hot but the heat did not deter the scrambles over boulders and the desert exploration of cacti. What cacti!! I couldn’t get over how beautiful they were, what survivors they were. A park ranger very sweetly and thoroughly gave us a tour to explain some of the incredible ways plants and animals have adapted to the desert’s harsh conditions (not to mention how the Loggerhead Shrike impales its prey on the spikes of a Joshua Tree, leaving it there to rot for a few days before eating it.)

Dan checking out the desert wares

Too hot for an afternoon hike, we instead had quiche and smoothies at a funky café just outside of the park. As we left, a man was getting ready with his guitar to perform a set for the Sunday afternoon crowd. We agreed it would be a pretty great place to play a gig. Maybe next time.

Owl pellets that we didn't order from a home science company! 

Can you spot the kangaroo rat bone?

The other day, I was remarking to Dan how the kids will likely not remember much of this trip, given their ages. I joked that it’s not just the kids who won’t remember – I barely remember if we all had showers yesterday or if I put the granola in the green bag or tucked it under the seat. We will not remember every detail, but instead will remember glimpses, garnered from the stories we tell, the photos we take (and the blog we keep!) The trip will become part of our family’s collective memory and will become part of we are. I’m grateful for that.

The kids completing their final Jr. Ranger Badge for this portion of the trip

Blissed out from all the time in nature, Sam is still thrilled to be able to check in with the sporting world

Poignant plaque outside the visitor centre