A Walk in the Desert

For spring break, we set out in search of sun. A direct flight from Bellingham to Palm Springs was a ticket to sunny skies and hot desert weather. While playing in the pool, nighttime miniature golf, and plenty of milkshakes were on the itinerary for the week, I knew I would carve out some time for my wife, daughter and I to wander around the desert.

When I first went to Palm Springs, it was more out of convenience than anything else. It was about the easiest place we could go for a vitamin D boost during Whatcom County’s grayer months. When I looked at the hills, all I saw was brown, and everywhere I looked seemed desolate.

Since then my perspective has changed as we have continued to take trips to Palm Springs and the surrounding area. I now find myself mesmerized by the surrounding mountains. Where our lush forests hide the terrain, the desert shows it off. Every ripple, rock, and ridge can be seen against the blue sky. Yes, brown is the dominant color, but now I notice shades of brown speckled with greens and grays. The highest peaks are often white, showing off their latest dusting of snow.

The earth that once seemed so dead now burst to life. Cacti dominate the scene providing bits of shade for scurrying lizards. Little blooming flowers are visited by insects, and a jackrabbit may bound across your path. Big horn sheep can be spotted on hills standing in groups as stoic figures, and with a bit of luck, a desert tortoise may stick its head from its shell to say hello. And, of course, the crafty coyote is always around to keep an eye on humans. No, the desert is not dead, far from it. It just makes you slow down and take it in to appreciate it coming to life before your eyes.

On our various trips, we have done a variety of hikes and explored Joshua Tree National Park. There are seemingly limitless places to explore in the desert. On this trip, I set my heart on exploring the Anza-Borrego Desert State Park. We had considered scrapping our plans altogether, or rather we had the night before, because of the high temperatures the area was experiencing, but when I woke up the next morning, I knew I had to go, and I was dragging my family with me. I laid there waiting for a reasonable hour before waking them up and letting them know I was back to our old plan. My wife was a good sport and jumped on board; our daughter took a little more coaxing and a little bribery; she’d get to pick the lunch spot, and we were out the door.

Our drive to the park entrance was about an hour, heading east on I-10 before heading south towards the Sultan Sea. Approaching the giant body of water in the middle of the desert-scape is always exciting to me. Unfortunately, the lake is unhealthy and unsuitable for recreation, but it’s still a marvel. As you turn away from the sea on Borrego Salton Sea Way, you really start to feel like you are on another planet. The terrain is more reminiscent of Mars than California. Hard rock and sand are only broken up by little canyons and hills, which appear to have been put there for ATVs and motorcycles, as there were tracks at every turn-off.

As we got into the park, we had to decide where to go and what to do. The temperature was rising, and I’m not known for planning a good itinerary for hiking. We decided to pull into the ranger station to get some advice. They were as friendly a group of people as I have ever met, but they looked at us a little side-eyed when we said we were heading out on a hike. They confirmed that we were aware that temperatures would be cresting 100°F and that we had water. We smiled and nodded. They recommended the Borrego Palm Canyon hike. It was close by, so at least we would be starting soon.

We hopped back into our rented Jeep and drove approximately two miles to the trailhead. We had to go through an entrance to a camp area where another park ranger checked to see if we had paid the $10 day use fee and to again question if we had enough water. If I’m being honest, I don’t think they thought we should be heading out so late in the morning. She said there would be some water crossings so to be sure to splash ourselves on the way. We gave her a thumbs up as we drove away from her concerned face, winding our way through some nice-looking campsites before getting to the trailhead.

Once on the trail, my excitement turned to relaxation. We were finally out walking through the desert. With every step, I kept my eyes peeled for lizards and those snakes with the noise makers on their tails. We also scanned the surrounding cliffs, hoping to catch a glimpse of a big horned sheep. Spoiler alert, we didn’t see any on this hike. I stopped frequently to snap pictures of delicate flowers and fierce looking cacti, then trotted to catch up to my family who have been over-waiting for me for years.

As we wound our way towards the canyon, the slopping hills became closer, and the giant rocks that appeared to have been placed along the trail seemed too perfect to be real. Walking through the desert is both quiet and loud at the same time. There are no leaves to blow in the wind, few birds to sing, and no water to rush, but the ground is loud. The hard sand and small rocks crunch with every step. Unless you are in deep sand there is little give to the earth that has been compacted for millennia. This crunch, crunch, crunch is the sound of progress when hiking on the desert’s unforgiving land.

We gradually gained a little elevation as we made our way up the canyon, and our view narrowed. What was once a wide-open view of desert scape was being pinched off by the hills rising out of the canyon. As we came to our first water crossing, and I use that term loosely because it was only a couple inches deep and flowing slowly, we gave ourselves a little splash and kept going. When we found spots of shade, we took a little reprieve to get in some water before getting back to a good pace as we raced the heat.

As our perspiration increased, so did the flow of the creek we were now following towards the oasis. With each crossing the water deepened and the trickle grew to a flow, with little waterfalls dropping below large rock formations. While the water screamed for me to jump in, I restrained myself and followed the “Stay on Trail” signs. Just as we were really starting to get hot, and my daughter was suggesting we should be at the pool, just like in the movies, the palm trees appeared. Fortunately, this wasn’t a mirage but the oasis we had been seeking. I have hiked to a handful of oases, and they are always astonishing. Somehow, in what seems to be the most barren land, where only the most adaptive of life can survive, pops a plume of green. Water flows, and life thrives while the area surrounding it struggles.

The trail ended with a perched-up view of the oasis at about eye level with the palm trees. At their bases, water gurgled out of the earth at what seemed to be a randomly chosen spot. We took in the scene, snapped a few pictures, and hid in the shade for a few moments before heading back, fully aware that the temperature was only rising.

The hike back was slightly downhill, and there were fewer pictures involved. We kept a good pace as our water bottles grew lighter and our stomachs started to rumble. Overall, the out-and-back trail is just over three miles, and I would consider it easy except for the temperatures, which can obviously be dangerous at any distance. Fortunately, the sunscreen worked, and we had enough water to get us back to the jeep so we could get to lunch before enjoying cold drinks and a good magazine by the pool.

We took a slight detour back to the visitors center to pick up a couple souvenirs. The friendly group of rangers were surprised to see us so soon and asked if we had run the trail, which we took as a compliment.

While the heat dissuaded us from exploring more of the park that day or throughout the week as temperatures continued to rise, I plan to return soon to explore more of the Anza-Borrego Desert State Park. Next time, I plan to spot some big horn sheep and start a little earlier.   X