Over Columbus Day weekend we went camping in the San Bernardino National Forest near Mount San Jacinto State Park. Original plan: Go to Joshua Tree National Park for the weekend. Reservable campsites were all reserved (Because of
Desert Trip?). Backup plan: Find a spot with trees on the other side of the mountains. Although the state park was full, the National Forest Service had a handful of quiet, private, sites for half the price. No showers or flush toilets, but I happen to like primitive camping, as do the boys. The girls would rather have some running water, but they compensated by not going to the bathroom very much while we were there. The weather was perfect for camping, although because of the drought, no fires were allowed. So at night after the kids were tucked in their sleeping bags all cozy, we drank our cups of cheap wine in the dark, peering at the stars between the pine trees. I missed the fire, but the upside was not smelling smoky when we returned.
Despite the complaining and whining about going camping, the kids really seemed to have a good time. They don't want to disconnect and leave their friends. They are afraid they might miss something good. But the further away from home we get, the more they relax and begin to talk to each other and to us. The youngers spring from the car and head off on an exploration of our site in the forest before we can remind them about setting up camp. Away from the concrete and traffic at home, they jump and laugh and climb and are generally rambunctious until time for a hike and dinner.
******************
I used to reject the notion that to grow in wisdom, a person must travel. We have had conversations with friends (and books) about whether wisdom comes primarily through lived experience that should include travel to exotic locations in order to gain knowledge of the entire world or whether wisdom comes with reading and reflection and conversation.
What is meant by wisdom is perhaps the first question. Obviously, it isn't just memorizing facts or recognizing landmarks or accumulating content information, or even learning how to process or discover information. Being wise surely must also have an element of seeing outside the self, of being empathetic or compassionate, of loving, - of knowing and loving others, as well as knowing and loving things.
I still don't believe that true wisdom
requires travel. But travel does provide a type of knowledge, or a way of seeing, that differs from the kind of knowledge or reflection that happens when you stay at home. Being dislodged or relocated shifts your view - maybe just a degree or two, and not for very long. And traveling provides the opportunity to meet new people and find they are knowable and lovable, even though you may know that in theory from books and conversations at home. And after traveling, you go home, and home seems more lovable.
Remember the old mnemonic device for spelling desert: you want more dessert, so you ask for two s's. You want less desert, so it only has one s. Some people love the desert. People who live in adobe homes decorated with bougainvillea, who paint sunsets in vivid golds, pinks, and purples, and who smoke peacepipes and speak in aphorisms. Ok, plenty of other people, too, but driving by all of these colorful homes made me realize the number of people who chose to settle where less than an inch of rain falls is not small.
I am curious about the people who originally came to Palm Springs to live, or Las Vegas, or any other desert town bulging with ostentatious wealth. Were they people who had something to escape, who had secrets or past crimes to hide, or who wanted to engage in illegal or prohibited activities like selling alcohol, or gambling, or whatever other vices were bought and sold? Why did they settle in the middle of the desert? How did they have the audacity to found a luxury resort in this place?
*****************************************
We didn't actually visit Palm Springs, although we could see it from a mountain top. But we drove through a few small towns nearby, where dust covers the windows of tin roofed homes so that they looked condemned on uninhabited, but in fact, someone is living there. The high school in one desert town is next to a maximum security prison. Train tracks and an interstate divide a town into thirds in which no one has a good location. Laundromats and Super Marts and Vape shops line the streets across from taquerias and iglesias. But no one walks the street. You don't see any people, except an old man trimming the lone palm tree in his front yard. Where do they hide in the daytime? Where do they go to work? Vines are withered, fields are dust, creosote is the only thing that grows. Perhaps these really are ghost towns haunting the edge of a glittering high- end outlet mall next to a high rise mirrored casino blinding motorists, preventing any view of the interior - or out.
We had plenty of time on the road to image the lives of those who live in the desert, both the very, very wealthy and the very, very poor. I have decided I am a mountain person. I'd rather be high in the trees on a hillside, than oceanside in the sand. Or rockside in the desert, although I did love the warmth of the sun on my arms. The weekend was a study in contrasts in many ways. I'm glad we made the trip to escape routine, to enjoy family bonding, and to explore a few other wonders of creation.
 |
| Wildflowers |
 |
| Do you see the bighorn sheep? |
 |
| A zoom lens is on my wishlist |
 |
| Joshua tree forest |
 |
| Petroglyphs |
 |
| Skull rock |
 |
| Dry land log rolling |
 |
| The all seeing eye |
 |
| The color has been added by "vandals." |
 |
| Natural color. That deep blue may be what desert lovers are addicted to. |
 |
| Purple mountains majesty |
 |
| Fiery sunset |
 |
| Goodbye friends! Outside of the friendly corner bakery in Idyllwild |
