Anza Borrego Part VI - We Should Have Brought the Camera

The sixth day brought more beautiful weather and the first signs of chronic backache…too bad we couldn’t fit a bed into our duffle bags. As usual, the morning began with a French Shower for me, and a full-blown spa treatment for my Analee (if you call a 50 cent 4 minute shower, and drying your hair with a hand dryer “spa treatment”). I wish I could be that motivated for cleanliness at 6:00 am.

Breakfast undoubtedly included yogurt, bagels with cream cheese and a brown banana, but no coffee. Feeling the first signs of “camping fatigue” setting in, we made a b-line to Borrego Springs for some c-a-f-f-e-i-n-e. We found a coffee shop owned and operated by a sweet husband/wife couple dressed in 1950s diner garb. They were obviously living out their twilight years in the, ahem, retirement haven, ahem, of Borrego Springs. The coffee shop, true to Borrego form, was a complete rip off, but I was willing to auction off a toe for caffeine by this point. Also, I’d like to think that our money made Ward and June Clever’s retirement a little easier.

Now completely hopped up on caffeine, Analee and I were ready to tackle the Northern portion of the park within one day. We tried to get to Rockhouse Canyon home to some spectacular petroglyphs (Indian rock carvings) via Dry Clark Lake, but were turned away. The road ended at a gravel pit with the only access to Rockhouse Canyon across Dry Clark Lake, which had a huge sign declaring “No motorized vehicles on the dry lakebed.” Although we could see hundreds of tire tracks and donut circles on the lakebed, we were good campers and obeyed (see what happens when your career is enforcing Environmental Regulations?).

Dry Clark Lake

From there we made our way to Fonts Point. Here you get a wonderful view of the Borrego Badlands, which flow from the Santa Rosa Mountains down through the Borrego Valley towards the Fish Creek Mountains (I know, a bunch a names no one cares about except for me).

Font's Point View of the Borrego Badlands

The view was spectacular as we were some 200+ feet above the floor, and we could make out trails where people literally hike across a 1 to 2 foot wide ridge through the badlands. As you will soon learn, Badlands are fun to look at, but not fun to be in. Eroded mud and sandstone is just like forest, beautiful from afar, but once you’re in it, every tree looks the same.

Font's Point

As we continued our “car hike” we ventured to the Calcite Mine Trail. Analee being a geologist, this trail was a definite on our list of hikes, especially since large veins of calcite are still present (Calcite was mined here during the early part of WWII for bomb sights because of its rhomboid geometry that prevents parallax…NERD). Judging by road conditions and 4WD warning signs, it was time to leave the comfort of the Blazer and trudge along an old mine road. Stepping of out of our leather captain’s chairs, we had no idea about the hike that lay ahead. The trail sign and our guidebook listed this trail as “moderate” and thinking the trail would be easily traversed, we left our camera and GPS. They lied.

Turns out this trail is definitely the hardest one I’ve ever encountered in Anza Borrego. Not only did Mother Nature decide to turn on the heater on this trail (I received an excellent farmer burn/tan on this hike), but we were continually teased by the topography. We’d hike up 300 feet or so, and then have to hike down 200, which was followed by another 250 up and then 100 down, etc. Eventually, after 2 or 3 miles, we made it to the mine, which was about ¾ the way up the mountain. Once at the mine, we had a majestic view of the entire valley below us that had the badlands to the right, the Salton Sea to the left and the plains of Mexico in front of us. We should have brought the camera!! It was easily the prettiest panorama of the entire trip, and all we have are fading memories (incentive to return!).

Our Only "Thumb" Proof of the Calcite Mine

We then spent the next hour or so hunting for calcite in every trench mine we could find. Unlike previous mines we had gone to on this trip, I was tickled pink by this one. Each trench had massive veins of calcite, and each vein was teeming with crystals. It was all we could do not to take pieces  (if you believe that, I’ve got some magic beans for sale). Our second mistake on this hike was leaving all the food in the car, so it was back to the Blazer for our traditional peanut butter and raisin sandwiches on potato bread (oddly enough, Analee doesn’t like peanut butter, nor raisins. I hate potato bread, but when you put all three together it’s a tasty treat).

Next we made several abortive trips to get to the Pumpkin Patch (a sandstone concretion area where water has eroded the sediments into “pumpkins”). We were turned back by a washed out trail into the Badlands (thank God!), and then we couldn’t find any dry wash, since most were wet from the previous storm. So, we continued on to Slot Canyon where I learned a valuable lesson in claustrophobia and tracking.

Slot Canyon is a exactly what it sounds like, a narrow 4 to 5 foot wide canyon (sometimes 1 foot wide, which is hard to squeeze my belly through…luckily pudge is malleable), and the walls are 30 to 50 feet high. As we twisted through the canyon, I increasingly came aware that Analee wasn’t doing so well. She was only staring at the ground, and was clutching her camera. As I was previously unaware, Analee has a touch of claustrophobia, and a massive fear of earthquakes. Slot Canyon was not a good place to be. Before I knew it, Analee’s face flushed and she turned tail towards the canyon exit.

Mr. Pudge Stuck in The Slot...

Once we were out, we stumbled upon a footprint surprise. Right in front of us were hundreds of fresh mountain lion prints. The prints came out of the canyon we just left and circled near the car, and then disappeared. Luckily, it was obvious that the lion had chased and eaten a hare, so I doubt we were in any immediate danger. Then we noticed a set of smaller lion prints. Now it was time to go. We snapped a picture of the print, got in the car and skee-daddled because I’m not getting between a lion and her cub. I still don’t know if it was Analee’s claustrophobia or her intuition, but I was glad we were out of that canyon.

That Ain't No Immigrant Footprint!

Frazzled, we made our way back to camp, and had our ritual swim in the hot pool with its usual cast of characters. One day I will describe those we met in the pool. That will be an entry in itself!

Hope everyone is enjoying this. It is hard to be motivated to write sometimes!

Night, Night!

UP NEXT: Part VII - Helicopters & Humvees

Anza Borrego Part V - Magellan Strikes Again!

The sun will come out, tomorrow…I wouldn’t bet my bottom dollar!

Amazingly, we awoke to a cloudless, azure blue sky. Seeing sun for the first time in ages, and knowing we had to move campsites later in the day, Analee and I broke out of camp faster than a freshly paid soldier on leave. Our first task of the morning was to revisit the Indian Hill / Dos Cabezas mine area now that we had more ideal conditions.

Clear Skies...Finally!

Again we turned up Mortero wash in the south end of the park with yours truly holding the GPS and Analee behind the wheel. Yes, Magellan sails again! Feeling confident that I had figured out that north does not necessarily mean “up”, I successfully led Analee and I to the Dos Cabezas mine (which, mind you, I did locate and input the coordinates from a USGS map). Turns out this mine was nothing more than the same “ite” we found the previous day in spoil piles located by the train depot, but now it was in a “not so accessible” vein format. Although this hike was a bust, it proved I could navigate to a final destination, supposedly…

From there, we shadowed the train tracks for about 4 miles until we found a trestle we could pass under on our way to Indian Hill. Now supremely confident in my navigation capabilities, we set out for the mysterious Shaman caves of Indian Hill. For reference, Indian Hill is the oldest site in the park that has traces of early human inhabitants. Indian Hill was a nomadic tribal home housing pictographs dating back as far as 3,000 BC. As you can imagine, I was very much looking forward to this day.

Eagerly, we began our 1-mile hike down a well-trodden wash with the GPS clutched firmly in my grip. After 10 minutes, Analee asked how much further and I said about 0.6 miles, which seemed right. 10 minutes later, it was still 0.6 miles away. 20 minutes later, it was still 0.6 miles away. Something wasn’t right. I was following the trail and the footprints, but we weren’t getting any closer, until Analee pointed out that Indian Hill was probably “a hill”, so in order to get there we would eventually have to go up. She was right, of course. Turns out I led us around Indian Hill in a canyon wash for about 2 miles. Magellan strikes again!

Cave at Indian Hill

We hiked up and out of the canyon with the GPS in Analee’s hands, yet we still couldn’t find Indian Hill. We roamed around the general vicinity for about an hour until I saw a Yoni (a Yoni is a fertility and birthing ceremonial/ritual carving designed to look like, well, you know) that I had seen on the internet (see above). From there we found a deep cave about 3 feet high beneath a gigantic boulder, thus we had finally stumbled upon Indian Hill (Note: The USGS quad map has Indian Hill sited incorrectly. The correct location is the hill due south of the noted hill).

Cool Lizard-Man Pictograph

Walking around the base of the hill we saw the pictograph cave about 20 feet up from the base. Words cannot describe the power of this cave. The cave was covered in pictographs such as a man, a handprint, the sun, a lizard and innumerable indiscernible drawings. This was obviously a cave of high importance. As I sat in this cave and looked out upon the great valley below us, I was overwhelmed with emotion. Like many places in Anza Borrego, it evokes strong memories of time with my Dad. I know he would like this place, and hopefully I can convince him to visit Anza Borrego once again, or if I’m lucky, I can one day take my (future) son there.

Indian Hill

Enough with the Oprah moment…Following Analee’s lead, we made a straight line (not a meandering arc like I would have lead us) back to our car. We next decided to revisit Piepkorn Canyon and pay our respects. This time we walked the last quarter of mile to his marker, instead of risking getting stuck on a rock (wise move). As we walked, we noticed that most of the rocks in the wash were “painted” by previous drivers trying to maneuver this trail, and scratching paint off their vehicle. Boy, was I glad we walked. We cleaned up Mr. Piepkorn’s marker by replacing the trinkets, and we left a sprig of lavender. I appreciated the reminder of how dangerous the desert can be regardless of one’s level of preparedness, and mind you, I’m no boy scout anymore.

Mark Piepkorn Memorial

Now that we were square with Karma again, we headed back to the campground, stopping along the way to admire the Carrizo Badlands Overlook. As we drove down Sweeny Pass (a steep, serpentine grade), I heard Analee say, “I’ve lost power…” as I watched her mash the brakes, which threw my heart into a panic, I reached over and engaged the parking brake, screeching the car to a halt (Nothing parties like a rental!). If looks could kill, I’d be deader than a doornail. Analee was none too pleased with my “assisting” her, as it turns out, she had only lost power, and the brakes worked just fine. Of course, the power had gone out because Analee had inadvertently put the car in reverse going downhill at 25 miles per hour!

Analee and the Treacherous Spot in Piepkorn Slot

Safely back at the campground, it was time to move camp again, since all the Father/Daughter sites were open. Originally, we were going to stay in the site 42 (the old Thornburg site), but as Analee noted, it was unleveled, unprotected and too huge for a tent. So, we moved to site 139 near our first site at the Moonlight Canyon trailhead. As we transferred sites, Analee carried our tent, still popped with stakes dangling to the laughter of some old crusty men. “That there is the funniest thing I’ve ever seen,” they hollered. They must have had boring lives.

Our New Campsite

While Analee was fending off the “Greatest Generation”, I was pilfering firewood from a massive pile left by the Father/Daughter group. As I loaded the car, I was treated to a nice story from a salty old man smoking Pall Malls in the rear of his truck camper. All I could see of him was his right hand holding a cigarette, since his face was shaded behind the window screen. His raspy voice told me of an old girlfriend of his in the 50s, it felt like a confessional, a voice from behind a screen. He lamented about how he had met this beautiful woman and invited her hiking in Joshua Tree. When she showed up for their date, she wore a skirt and sandals. “Jesus Christ, sandals, on a desert hike” he bellowed. The date didn’t go well he said, but one day, he saw a pair of hiking boots on sale, and he bought them for her. “I gave her the boots and they fit like a glove. Like Cinderella, you know?” he said. All I could do was nod and listen. For the next three years they dated, and by the time they parted, she was a more masterful hiker than he. Although I never saw his face, I could tell he missed her and that life long gone. I gave my thanks, wished him well, and headed back to my Analee for a warm night by the fire.

UP NEXT – Anza Borrego Part VI: We Should Have Brought the Camera

Anza Borrego Part IV - Women's Intuition

“On the fourth day, God created bad weather…again.” Book of Genesis

Yet again, we awoke to snow in the mountains, and a steady cold rain in Agua Caliente. It made for a long night, which was compounded by our Korean “neighbors” who slept in their van with it running all night. Nothing like engine noise and choking fumes to help you sleep…they must have been North Koreans. Seeing that extended hiking was out of the picture, again, we decided to go ahead and do our laundry and get more groceries. After yesterday's Julian blunder, we decided to head south for warmer climes, to the bustling City of El Centro.

Driving to Interstate 8, we went through the “burgeoning” metropolis of Ocotillo. It had a bar called the Lounging Lizard, which Analee noted had several patrons at 10 AM on a Saturday, so this town was happening! Upon reaching I-8, we saw that the weather was so bad to the west of the park that the State had shut down I-8W through the Laguna Mountains. There were people parked for miles on the shoulder, median, gas stations (probably at the Lounging Lizard, too). Luckily, our destination lay to the east.

Although our stay in El Centro was brief, it was nice to get out of the cold and spend some time in civilization. I do believe we were the first white people in eons to step into the Laundromat, to which Analee whispered “Are we in Mexico?” Laundry went off without a snag, and afterwards we went next door to an awesome Mexican restaurant. I don’t know if it was the tuna skroodle we had the night before, but I think that was some of the best food I’ve ever had. Afterwards we went to a real grocery store, Vons (hallelujah, not a country store), and got twice as many groceries for half the price. In retrospect, our trip to El Centro seems really boring.

From there it was back to Anza Borrego where we had our first encounter with the United States Border Patrol. Analee got really excited because we had seen the checkpoint before, but no one was ever there (actually, on the way back we drove past it, saw them setting it up, then we turned around so we could go through it…hah!). When we reached the patrolmen, our great, grand and glorious security asked, “Are you citizens?” To which we replied, “Yes”, and that was it, checkpoint inspection over. What a letdown!

After that intense interrogation, we proceeded to “car hike” the rest of the day. This entailed Analee gleefully driving over every square inch of desert in the south end of Anza Borrego. Near Ocotillo, we drove back to a place call Shell Canyon (aka) Fossil Canyon). We hiked up the canyon about half a mile, and saw some interesting coquina (coquina is a type of limestone (a kind of sedimentary rock) that is mostly made of shells and shell fragments). As the canyon snaked back, the walls became closer and higher. It was definitely an intimidating site seeing where water had carved huge slices in the canyon walls and had deposited massive boulders in the streambed. This experience was worsened by the fact it was raining, too. Eventually, we turned back towards the Blazer, and Analee took a 5 minute movie of the hike (unfortunately, this movie was deleted for future picture space).

Enjoying the hike in Fossil Canyon

Next we headed off towards the Dolomite Mine wash. I was not expecting an exciting drive on this one, as it was mainly flat and expansive, plus, I have no idea what dolomite is. However, it did turn rather interesting. As we bounced back towards the mine, Analee noticed some interesting tracks in the sand. Since it had just rained, it was apparent that these tracks were fresh. For a while we couldn’t figure out what the tracks were, a horse? a cow? Nope, human footprints. Mind you that we were in the middle of nowhere and foot hiking this area was out of the question. Remember that checkpoint station? Well it appears that some immigrants had recently strolled through, successfully evading the rigorous US Border Patrol interrogation techniques.

Which way to Home Depot?

We never made it to the mine, however, because road conditions got too bad. Yet, I did find an interesting rock sculpture in the shape of a rattlesnake. Based on the coins left at the site, it had been there since the 60s (It is my impression that hikers, etc. place coins of the year they were there on interesting objects they see).

Rattlesnake Rock Sculpture

With daylight fading, we thought we had time for one more trail to drive, so we headed down the Mortero Wash, which leads towards Dos Cabezas and Indian Hill. I will tell you right now, based on weather and daylight we should never had gone down this wash. We drove back about 7 miles into the canyon (over and down some very precarious rocks/hills…did I mention that Analee is a great offroad driver?). When we reached the Dos Cabezas rail station, we found some spoil from an old mine located nearby. Turns out it was some sort of “ite” (Dolomite I think - I told you I can’t identify rocks).

At the rail station we found a blue 55 gallon drum marked “Water / Agua”. As we learned on NPR (due to the immigration bill in the Senate) when we got back to NC, humanitarian groups place these drums in the desert to provide water for illegals. While I don’t condone illegal immigration, I was glad to see some sort of compassion for their hard journey. Thinking that we could possibly do a hike to Indian Hill, we headed even further down the trail (now about 10 miles deep).

Dos Cabezas Rail Depot

Let me admit right now, I am not Magellan. When Analee would ask which direction, I would cleverly say “Over there…I guess.” Needless to say, we never made it to Indian Hill that day, but we did see it, “I guess”. Now the rain and wind started to come strong again. It was definitely time to turn back. As we retraced our steps, Magellan here (i.e., me) suggested we turn down a different wash (Jojoba Wash) to get back, which seemed quicker. We drove down this wash about 4 miles, and then it the road conditions worsened. We noticed the wash was becoming rockier and was narrowing. Thinking this the way to go, I navigated us onward.

Soon the wash was littered with basketball sized rocks. I urged us onward. At one point I had to get out of the car and direct Analee around a tricky spot. Once I got back in the car, women’s intuition set in. The sun was sinking, the rain was coming, the wind was gusting, and the canyon walls were narrowing. Analee immediately said “I don’t like this.” At that exact moment I spied a toy lighthouse up on the left, and I said I wanted to get out and look at it. Analee, sensing danger, said “then go f^@#@#$ look at it, I’m getting out of here” (the first and only time she has ever cussed at me – with good reason).

As Analee was completing a 27 point turn in the narrow canyon to get the Blazer going in the other direction, I walked over to the “toy lighthouse”. The lighthouse was a trinket left on a marker which was the grave for Mark Piepkorn who “died at this spot” in November of 1996. Suddenly I felt the urgency of getting out of this canyon, as if Mr. Piepkorn kicked me in the ass and told me to get moving!

Analee got us out of the canyon, and after a while we were back on good old asphalt roads. I didn’t tell her about the grave until we were well away from the canyon, and our bones were soaking in the pool. I’ll never doubt Analee’s intuition again. (As a side note, upon returning to NC, I found a map listing this canyon as one-way, guess which way Magellan was leading us?!)

UP NEXT – Anza Borrego Part V: Magellan Strikes Again!

Anza Borrego Part III - Where Did the Mountain Go?

On the third day of our trip, something happened that never occurred in all the years I went to Anza Borrego. After a chilling night, I opened the tent and the first words out of my mouth were “Holy $#@&! Where did the mountain go?” Now for those of us who have been to Agua Caliente before, you’ll remember that Whale Peak is about 5 miles directly across the valley floor from the campground. It’s a dominating figure in the Borrego landscape, but not on this day. It was shrouded in a veil of white. Clouds swallowed the peak, and snow (that’s right, snow) was about half way down the mountain. I couldn’t believe my eyes, and without the aid of media, we had no idea that an Alaskan front had stalled on the Laguna Mountains to our west and the Vallecito Mountains to our east. We were in for a wild two days.

Snow Covered Whale Peak

Not knowing how trail conditions would be throughout the park due to the storm, we decided to do Moonlight Canyon trail and try to get to the Inner Pasture (BLM land) via an offshoot trail. We struck out on this old family favorite under a light drizzle. I remember many hikes on this trail, whether day or night. It seemed strangely unfamiliar to me, perhaps because I was using sunlight instead of moonlight to guide the way! We were never able to find the correct canyon to the Inner Pasture (even with topo maps, and a GPS receiver – which convinces me that early explorers like Lewis and Clark didn’t find places, they stumbled on to them). We did try a canyon that had a huge “Do not Enter” sign (like cocaine to a hiker), but that ended in a 30 foot dry waterfall, no thank you.

Good Old Moonlight Canyon Trail

After we finished Moonlight Canyon, we talked to the Cute Ranger, as Analee called him (he did have piercing blue eyes), to find the closest place to get gas. (Side note: I have a phobia of going offroad without enough gas, so if it was close to half a tank, it was time to fuel up…so we ended up getting gas about every day, oops). Cute Ranger told us that the closest place was Julian, and with the snow, we thought it would be fun to taste old man winter and Julian’s World Famous hot apple pie. It sounded like a good plan…

Check out that angry sky

As the trusty Blazer chugged up the Laguna Mountain towards hot apple pie (Can’t you almost taste it?), we hit our first snowflakes at 2,800 feet (Thank you Mr. GPS!). What a beautiful and unexpected site to see snow on our trip to the desert. Then the snow came quicker and wetter, and the roads became icier. Soon we saw a warning sign that said “Chains Required”. Of course, we were not equipped with chains, and if someone can please tell me how you can turn around on a two lane, winding mountain road with no guardrails in white out conditions, I’m listening. So, we soldiered on to Julian. We were greeted in Julian by 8 inches of snow already on the ground, but dang it, we wanted apple pie.

We found a quaint restaurant called the “Julian Café” (what marketing geniuses!). Roast beef and hamburgers to dine on, hot tea and cider to drink, falling snow in a mountain town. Sounds lovely. It wasn’t. Our (mainly my) nerves were shot by the storm. The wait staff kept murmuring news of a “blizzard”, “two more feet of snow”, which did not sit well with the appetite. Convinced we were about to get snowed in, we hit the road (not without stops for a $12 box of Dayquil and gas – for your information: Quant Mountain Town = Highway Robbery). Me, now totally useless, sat terrified in the passenger seat while Analee began the “Great Descent of 2006.”

The Great Decent of 2006

Now we were almost under complete “white out” conditions, and we had 6 miles of mountain roads ahead. Analee threw the Blazer into first gear, and we practically idled at 10 miles an hour down the mountain. She was amazing. Soon we were safe on the valley floor.

Needing some supplies (i.e., beer and peanut M&Ms), we stopped at a local store in some blip ranch near the park. Here we were accosted by the ranch/general store owner for staying at Agua Caliente. His exact words were “I don’t care what people say. That water ain’t natural. They put all that chlorine in it for safety.” To which Analee later quipped to me, “What’s unnatural water then?” Good point. (By the way, the General Store by Agua Caliente is out of business – it’s up for lease if anyone is interested).

Eventually, we made it back to our campsite (we had to move campsites). We were supposed to be in Vallecito Campground that night because some Father/Daughter group reserved the entire park for the weekend (yet, only 10% showed up due to the weather). We checked out the campsite, which had no shelter from the wind and rain, no showers, a creepy neighboring camper that Analee thought was a statue, and most importantly NO INDOOR HOT POOL. We quickly made it back to Agua Caliente, found a non-reserveable site (#13) and set up camp.

After dinner, we made our routine trip to the pool house bathroom, when we noticed that the pool was still open (during the week it closed at 5:00, however, on weekends it was open until 9:00…thank God). We hurriedly donned our suits and were in 102 degree water for the next hour and a half. What a welcomed treat after the snow, the wind and the rain. Yet, at 9:00 we were evicted from our sanctuary and had to cuddle up in the tent while it rained and the temperatures dipped to un-vacation like conditions.

We had a wild day of snow, rain, wind and ice, but we were safe, except that we forgot to eat apple pie in Julian, which was the reason we went there!!!

UP NEXT – Anza Borrego Part IV: Women's Intuition

Anza Borrego Part II - A Ghostly Wind

Sunrise came not early enough on our first full day in Anza Borrego, since we were on Eastern Time, and 6 AM felt like noon. As the sun rose, we were treated to a wake up call by the dozens of quail “hooting” around the tent. After being serenaded for a moment, we were off to the brand new bathroom where the old sand lot used to be (As kids, we played baseball and had water balloon fights in this lot). As an adult, I’m glad the new bathroom is there. The bathrooms even have piping hot showers, but they cost 25 cents per 2 minutes. Trust me, this is a deal, especially since the old showers by the kiddies pool only run cold water now (as my body unfortunately learned the night before).

Sunrise in Agua Caliente

After a quick wash and breakfast, we were off to Blair Valley, home of the Marshall South Homestead (aka Ghost Mountain), the Mortero Trail and the Pictograph Trail. This area was a Thornburg Family staple growing up, probably due to the lure of “Ghost Mountain” and the relatively easy trails to reach the Indian settlements. Once we got to the Ghost Mountain trailhead, I had to gloat and call my parents, but they did not answer (Amazingly enough, the entire park had excellent cell coverage. I guess the towers on the Laguna Mountains are the reason!). Analee gently reminded me that we were on vacation, and cell phones were not the reason why we were there... of course she was right.

Once I finally learned how to use a Camel Back, which is a giant leap forward from our old steel canteens, we were off for the South Homestead. Now, I must go back a moment in time, and say that Analee teased me for months that she would blow me away on the trails and I wouldn’t be able to keep up. So…Analee, how does crow taste? The exact opposite happened, I ended up way ahead. However, this is probably due to her interest in geology, so she spent more time examining the ground, while I was covering it.

The remnants of the Marshall South Homestead aka Ghost Mountain

Anyways, we made it to the homestead site, and saw that it was definitely in worse shape than when I was a child. Basically one wall remained standing, and the bed was a birds nest of metal, yet it still had the same mystic as it did 20+ years ago. The cisterns and old cans were still there, and I even found the sundial, which I never noticed before. Of course, the view of Blair, Earthquake, Mason and Vallecito valleys is spectacular from there, and watching the clouds hit the Laguna Mountains was equally breathtaking. But those clouds brought the wind…

View of Vallecito Valley

And the wind howled. The strong winds on top of Ghost Mountain cut our visit short some, and we descended back to the valley floor with a few side stops looking for Yonis (I’ll explain later – this became sort of an obsession for Analee after a while). Next we were off to the Mortero trail. This was a quick and easy 0.2 mile hike.

Listen to me act like I know what I'm talking about...

Now if you’ve never seen a mortero before, they can be difficult to find if your eyes are not trained. Morteros are grinding holes that the Kumeyaay and Cahuilla Indians used to mash grains, dyes, etc. for their meals and rituals. Well, we couldn’t find them at first until we consulted the digital picture we took of the trailhead marker to find a reference point (yes, we are nerds). We found the split rock, and then the morteros came out of the woodwork. We must have found 30+, and I even spied a pictograph I’d never seen before. But, once again, the wind drove us back to the safety of the car.

Analee and the elusive Split Rock

From there we went to the Pictograph trail, but by this time the wind would not stop gusting through the canyons, so we took a nap in the car. Now, this nap was not because we were tired, but because Analee started getting sick, which she didn’t fully reveal to me at the time, uh oh.

So, the rest of the day was cut short by the strong winds, and sore throat, so we spent the remaining daylight driving down every wash we could find between Blair Valley and Agua Caliente. It was a fun day, and the wash driving brought out Analee’s inner 4WD beast, which would emerge many, many, many, many, many, many more times.

My Drunk Cowgirl

Ugh, this sounds so boring. Thanks for reading.

UP NEXT: Anza Borrego Part III: "Where did the mountain go?"

Anza Borrego Part I - Are We There Yet?

At 3:00 AM, Wednesday March 8^th, several months of planning (Analee would say “over-planning”), researching trails and waiting finally ended, as we awoke for our 6:00 AM flight to Chicago O’Hare, on our way to the Anza Borrego Desert State Park in beautiful Southern California. Analee’s Mom, Dene, drove us to the airport, and we arrived with plenty of time to check our luggage (two Class A Army issued duffle bags and two suitcases). You’d be amazed how much camping gear we fit into these bags!

We boarded the plane and everything appeared to be going smoothly, until we realized that our layover in Chicago was only 30 minutes. To top it off, our flight was running late, and they needed to de-ice the wings. Now the nerves set in (for me at least). I starting worrying myself sick about luggage, missing flights, the enormous terminals at O’Hare, plus my claustrophobic seat on our United Puddle Jumper didn’t help. My nerves were so bad that I had to “use the air sick bag” in the lavatory (Note: Puddle Jumper lavatories are not made for 6’1” 210 lbs men).

Eventually, we landed in Chicago at Gate C-15 and as our outbound flight was boarding in Gate C-20. The stars aligned. Even though the next flight was delayed due to a broken AC, I was glad to have an entire middle row to ourselves, even though I had to endure a sappy Sarah Jessica “Horse-face” Parker drama (The Family Stone).

We arrived at LAX around 10:30, and had our rental car by 11:15. Now, I usually don’t care much for rental car companies, but I must say that Avis was a fantastic deal. We got a brand new 4WD Chevy Trailblazer for 11 days at about $20 a day. What a sweet deal. Also, as the car was brought to us, Analee noticed that it had scratches down the side and a dent on the front passenger side. At least the car was already damaged . . . hee hee.

After a brief memory lapse (mistake #1), I eventually found the 91 Artesia Freeway, and we struck out for the desert via Temecula. We stopped for a lovely lunch of Taco Bell next to an Anaheim Hills high school (mistake #2). School had just let out for lunch, and the place was crawling with hormones, acne, obnoxious cackling voices, and more underage skin than I’ve ever seen before in my life. After having a “local blonde” throw a cup lid at me in a feeble attempt to dispose of her trash, I was ready to leave (Was I ever this annoying? I hope not!). We hit the road again and Analee finally got some sleep . . .

As we approached Temecula, it was time to start looking for grocery stores, since we did not bring anything to eat, nor could we bring some camping supplies due to TSA restrictions (matches, propane, etc.). Yet, as we approached Temecula, I saw Analee snoozing away, and I thought I’d be a good boyfriend, get groceries further down the road and let her sleep (mistake #3). I should have been inconsiderate and woke her up. There isn’t a single grocery store after Temecula all the way to Anza Borrego!

After searching for stores, we decided to go straight to Borrego Springs and the ABDSP Visitor Center. We were treated to a spectactular view as we descended into Borrego Valley via Montezuma Valley Road (See picture above). You descend approximately 4,000 ft over a few mile stretch, so you get some amazing vistas as you snake your way down the valley floor (Mistake #4 - forgot there are other gears than Drive, like 3rd, 2nd and most importantly 1st!).

Indian Head Mountain near the ABDSP Visitor Center

We spent a few moments at the Visitor Center, where we finally found the location of a "grocery" store. Turns out it is a place called the Central Market, which is in the rear or a cruddy old strip mall. Here is where I finally lost my cool, but God willing, Analee was there to remind me we were on vacation . . . I blew a fuse because groceries and supplies are EXPENSIVE out in the middle of no where. After much hemming and hawing on my part, we got groceries for 4 days. After the grocery debacle was complete, Analee had the best idea I've ever heard for air matresses. We went to a gas station, found an air pump and filled up the matresses (she's an engineer in my book for that idea). Of course, the gas station owner was none too please with us using his "valuable" tools, so we were charged $1. Even though the guy gave me a Deliverance feeling, at least we wouldn't be sleeping on hard ground.

From there we were off to Agua Caliente and campsite 140 next to the trail head for Moonlight Canyon. It was amazing to be back in Anza Borrego. My memories paled in comparison to the stark beauty of this land. My heart was filled with joy as I saw old haunts and the awe in Analee's eyes. For the first time in a long time, I felt free.

Zooming to Agua Caliente...

PS - Analee just reminded me about an interesting incident. After we set up our camp in the dark, Analee felt something cold run on to her foot, sit a spell and then bolt under the tent. Turns out the "something cold" was a mouse. Instantly Analee didn't like our cozy, secluded campsite next to the spring anymore. From then on every bump, creak, snap, hiss in the night was a flesh eating death monster, hell bent on torture . . . or just a mouse.

UP NEXT: Anza Borrego Part II - A Ghostly Wind