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