Mojave Mojo Rising

This blog has a different tone from previous editions and is much longer. Please use the links throughout to find out more. Some are information, some are music to accompany. I have indicated these musical links with #. I suggest you open up two windows, use one to read and one for the links. If you are not ready, look away now and come back later.

I had the opportunity to go to Anaheim, CA (home of Disneyland) for a conference. Ooh credit card conference, how exciting. Through the kindness of Dean and his brother Joe, was offered the chance to see the Mojave desert. The plan was 3 days camping, hiking and star gazing. Good times, good people and a welcome respite from the wonderful world of credit card acceptance.

That's what we had planned. Little did we know...

The desert has always been described in terms of magic and mysticism. People go there to get lost - or to find. It is a strange, barren land defined by the rainfall. For a desert to exist there must be less annual rainfall than the amount of water evaporated. The impression created is that of a desolate wasteland, starved by the very nature from which it was created. Desolate and dangerous. 'Desert' is used liberally as a figure of speech to describe spaces where things are wanting or broken. Whoever gave the word that meaning has never been to the place.

I am aware that there are times in the desert and places in the world where the vast expanse of dry earth is an overwhelming wasteland, beating you about the head and torturing you into submission. But mine is a benevolent desert. One of nature, beauty, fraternity and life. Have you ever been somewhere that touched you so deeply you returned a different person? Somewhere so unexpected you are lead down a path you can't know is there and when you return, you don't know where you ventured but you're glad you did? Your heart actually feels different?

"I wonder if I've been changed in the night? Let me think. Was I the same when I got up this morning? I almost think I can remember feeling a little different. But if I'm not the same, the next question is 'Who in the world am I?' Ah, that's the great puzzle!"

(Lewis Carroll, Alice in Wonderland)

Believe me, I was not expecting this either. I thought I was going camping.

What I'm going to do here is give you an over-view of my desert. I will show you what I did and what I saw. I have so many pictures that they won't have place here in a blog setting so I am going to select a few representative ones. If you would like to see more, you can follow the link at the end of this entry to take you to my Facebook account where I have posted the remaining images.

" You should not see the desert as some faraway place of little rain.
There are many forms of thirst." (William Langewiesche)

We arrived at the campsite at 11.30pm after a 4 hour drive in the dark. Joe and his friend, Todd, had already set up and were getting ready to point the telescopes at Jupiter. I should explain that Joe's hobby is star gazing and imaging. I had seen some of his pictures before we left. They are the kind you see in National Geographic of far-off galaxies that transfix you like a magic-eye.

The camp site was 27 miles from the highway and 8 miles from nowhere. I was feeling a little nervous, arriving in this land of tarantulas, cacti, snakes and scorpions to pitch a tent in the dark on goodness knows what. And then to have to go to the bathroom...

That first glimpse through the scope took my breath away. There are so many stars to be seen. The Milky Way stretched over our heads like a ribbon of sparkling gems from horizon to horizon. Shooting stars elicited an excited squeel from even the most experienced hands there. I watched a piece of space debris enter the Earth's atmosphere and leave a burning trail as it descended.

After a peaceful night in the tent I woke the next morning like a Chinese steamed bun in my -4C sleeping bag in the 8am, 27C desert. This is what I saw:

I also met everyone in the daylight. So to introduce the protagonists in the adventure...

We have Dan and Dean, (who I work with) Todd and Joe. Joe is Dean's brother and Todd is his friend, and now mine.


To exist happily in this place for the next few days, there were two things we needed to overcome: peeing in the desert and tarantulas. The first came with the call of nature and is a very liberating and grounding experience. The second came out of choice when we started hunting in the strange holes and crevaces that form or are created in the desert floor. Dean had a particular fear so took it upon himself to get as close as he could.


After a hearty breakfast of coffee and granola, we headed off for a hike. There was a ridge we saw and thought it would make a good view point. Half an hour say? Depth perception is nigh on impossible. With the scrub, sandy tones and lack of reference points a near by hill turns into a steep hike. The ground under our feet crunched with the sound of dry cheerios. We were surrounded by strange and wonderful plants and animals. Every few feet we had to stop to take a closer look and each time we were rewarded. So great was the wonder we felt we noticed ourselves flailing about in a mixture of thoughts and plans, trying to hold on to something familiar. What will happen tomorrow? How am I getting home. What did that guy say at the show? Very quickly it dawned on us that this was something special. This was a unique opportunity that needed to be experienced in the full, in the present and to the exclusion of past and future. Our mantra became, 'I'm here. I'm in the desert. I'm feeling the sun. I'm hearing the silence. I am.'

"Open up your plans and damn you're free" (# Jason Mraz)

When we reached a suitable vantage point a great spectacle unfolded. These three pictures show Dean and Joe on the highest point taking a picture of me. The second I took looking towards them and the third is what I could see looking out. The sand dunes you can see peeking out to the upper right are around 10 miles away.

On returning to camp we decided we needed to know more about that which we were seeing. There was a visitor centre 8 miles away in a place called Kelso. It is an old railway town, long since deserted but regained by the Parks service and made into an oasis in the desert. You can get fresh icecream milkshakes in the desert. Really.

# As sunset drew in, Dean and I went on a tarantula hunt and to capture the visions around us. Southern California is the only place in the world where the sky takes on this banded effect so clearly. You may remember posters and Tshirts from the 70s capturing the spirit.

By now, completely enchanted by the place, our second evening star-gazing was even more inviting. Time and space stretched out before us like a downy blanket, waiting to envelope us and transport us to a different world.

At sunrise the following morning, Dean and I set out again in search of Tarantulas (they by now had acquired an upper-case T as a sign of respect) and an early morning experience. While walking we discovered two old, glass Dr Pepper bottles lying on the surface (10 2 4). They had been brushed clean by the passing sands. For a few minutes they were a pleasant distraction, musing about when they were from, who put them there, how they were made. Something tangible and recognizable. Something we could hang our knowledge on. We returned to our mantra. This earth was so much more ancient than the 40 year old bottles in our hands. The bottles are sitting on our desks right now. Thank you, whoever enjoyed the desert all those years ago.

After breakfast we drove to the Kelso Dunes. 45 square miles of sand dunes. We think we covered around 2.5 of them. The heat of the # sun was bearing down on us in the low areas. As we climbed the breeze grew stronger and gave us respite. I have discovered that I have a natural ability to climb sand dunes. Probably facilitated by the extreme width of my feet. I knew they were good for something.

I'm being rather glib here. What I am hiding is that this part of the trip was one of, if not the, most awe-inspiring section of our visit. To hike in the sand, with no idea of time, progressing one foot to the next, stopping, breathing, seeing... As you walk on these dunes, if you are in the right place at the right time, they make the most incredible sound. A deep, ancient and gut-wrenching # sound. You feel it vibrate through your feet and your whole body. The sense that this place had been here forever was overwhelming.

We sat on the cool side of the top of the dune we had chosen in blissful silence. We stayed until it felt time to go. In music they teach you, 'You have to play the rests.' This was the ultimate rest. Expansive and loaded. The kind that can "lay down a clean, simple beat that just makes the walls sweat" (remembered quote from session drummer Shawn Pelton)

A beautiful afternoon followed full of friendship and sharing. As the sun set, another Tarantula hunt ensued. This one longer than any previous and touched by the space we had found on the dunes. We saw Orion's Belt peak over the mountains and ascend to the middle of the heavens. Strange, warm breezes blew across our skin transported from farther into the desert. Shooting stars blazed overhead. Electric currents in the sky pulsated all around. Please listen to this # song.

Sometimes you have to let the tarantula climb on your hat, pick it up, turn it all ways and give it a little poke to fully understand it and come to terms with it. Then you can go out into the desert and hunt for them in the dark without fear and with curiosity.


The next # morning, sunrise greeted us with light clouds that reflected a pink glow back to earth. This is what I saw from my tent:


Our drive home was epic. I have mapped a route here. You can see we crossed the Mojave via Route 66 and headed into Joshua Tree National Park. By this time we were so far into euphoria that I can't really tell you much about it other than an overwhelming feeling of bliss pervaded.


When we landed in Seattle and came back to 'real life', it was unmistakable that 'something' had happened. We were changed. It has been hard coming down. Everyone thought we were going camping. So did we. Dean, Dan and I are still struggling to put together the words and emotions.

Now, as I sit at my window looking out at the rain collecting in heavy sacks on the telephone wire, the glorious autumn colours of the leaves, and the mist rolling in around the Puget Sound, I am left with a profound sense of 'other'. There is something else out there, something else with me, inside me. Just as I did in the desert I have to remind myself, I am here. I am sitting in my apartment, typing at the computer. I have a sweater on because it is cold. I have hair, eyes and teeth. My tongue is in my mouth. I feel the air around my feet.

"As age comes on, one source of enjoyment after another is closed, but Nature's sources never fail. Like a generous host, she offers her brimming cups in endless variety, served in a grand hall, the sky its ceiling, the mountains its walls, decorated with glorious paintings and enlivened with bands of music ever playing."
John Muir

I lost my mind and regained my senses in the Mojave Desert. Until the next time. #


Links to Facebook pictures:

A chronology of our visit

Plants and animals we saw