San Diego, day 3

Above: Taken somewhere along Julian Road, probably between Ramona
and Santa Ysabel. This is facing away from the car in the first picture.

Above: After countless switchbacks through lush hills and passing the town
of Banner we suddenly found ourselves in the desert. However, it didn't really
register until we drove past the Cigarette Hills and through the Grapevine and
Sentenac mountains flanking the entrance to the park. I was dumbfounded
when we cleared the mountains and entered Yaqui Flat. I'd never seen anything
like this before.

Above: Looking down at Yaqui Pass from S3. Cue some Ennio Morricone - I could
have sworn I saw Clint Eastwood riding through on horseback.

Above: A Cooper MINI car club convoy at Borrego Springs' main traffic circle.

Above: The Anza-Borrego visitor center. We stopped in for some shade
and a map. The state park received some funding to improve its visitor
center and we were interviewed by a woman working for a consulting
company helping with the renovation. Why were we visiting the park?
What message did we think the visitor center was giving us? What
message did we think it should give? Do we need a desert park? Define
"wilderness." I felt like I was in grade school, but I was glad we sat down
to talk with her because it helped me focus my thoughts about
everything I had seen so far. Still, I felt unfulfilled when we left the
visitor center. Something was missing and I couldn't put my finger on it.

The big epiphany came while refueling at a gas station. The message
that the visitor center should be broadcasting is the need for conservation
and stewardship of the park and the surrounding lands. There was nothing
about these topics in the interview, and I didn't think the visitor center
was relaying this message at all.

I hurriedly drove back to tell the interviewer. They (it turns out there were
two) were surprised and somewhat amused at my excitement, but
seemed to acknowledge the importance of my idea. You watch - when the
renovation is done in a few years you're going to see the results of my
interview. I'm such a nerd.

Above: The dry soil bears an eerie resemblence to yesterday's pineapple tart.
Minus the powdered sugar.

Above: Purple sand verbena.

Above: On the way back we took S4 through Poway. The boulders dotting
the hills had a certain alien quality to them. The communities on the
western edge of town had quite a few of these enormous rocks scattered
throughout their yards. It reminded me of the scenery in Calvin and Hobbes
strips.

Above: A panoramic view from a stop on Henderson Canyon Road.

I tried using Photoshop to stitch these photos together but it kept crashing.
I used a photo-stitching program that came with my camera instead, but
my pictures were taken with minimal overlap and the program was expecting
significant overlap, resulting in the disjointed image above. One image is
nearly cut out entirely and the whole thing should be at least 50% wider.
I'm not too happy with it, but all of the photos I took pale against the memory
of the utter vastness that surrounded us.

There's no way to get a sense of what it's like to be in a desert without
actually being there. The potential irony of visiting a desert for vacation
was not lost on me. "Hey, we're on vacation. What should we do? I
know, let's go someplace where people die!" Nightmare scenarios entered
my head - being stung by a scorpion; bitten by a rattlesnake; crawling
past a Saguaro cactus (with obligatory steer skull) in tattered clothes.

Of course nothing of the sort happened, and for the most part we enjoyed
the desert from the comfort of an air-conditioned car. The one moment of
panic came when we nearly backed into a car at an overlook that would
have sent it over the edge. I was not at the wheel, but I probably had
a comical look of terror on my face when I realized what was happened
and screamed "STOP!!!"

I looked enviously at all the trails on the map marked "for anyone except
you suckers in 2WD cars." We saw 4x4's and ATVs leaving the asphalt
roads for sandy paths leading through the mountains in the distance. The
landscape reminded me of images from the Paris-Dakar Rally and I wanted
one of those rally-modified BMW X5's. I gained a profound respect for the
harshness and beauty of nature. It was the antithesis of Manhattan and I
enjoyed every second of it, though I was grateful in the knowledge that
we would be flying home the next day.

We left the park in the late afternoon. The mountains cast long shadows
across the desert floor and I tried to imagine the nighttime activity that
would soon begin. Insects and animals would come out from their
underground homes, fighting for water and survival. It was like an episode
of Nature on PBS, but without George Page's narration.

I definitely want to go back.