Tonelli's Travels

Four days in Joshua Tree only allowed me to scratch the surface of this marvelous park on Cahuilla native land. You might describe it as a visit to Mars, or walking on the moon, or the remnants of melted candles. However you choose to see it, there is a spectacular view in every direction.

I entered the park through the southern entrance, driving through the Colorado Desert. Flat and dry, it looked much like the miles I had driven from Arizona. Sandy earth stretched in all directions until the base of the mountains, occasionally broken up by blooming Ocotillo, spiny Cholla, and sharp Yucca.

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Yet I drove down, past Cottonwood Canyon Visitor Center, and entered another world. There, in the middle of the hot, dusty desert is Cottonwood Spring, an oasis of water and palm trees. A short walk down the path brought me to a cluster of tall, leafy trees erupting from the ground, their green palms spreading wide and strong. They provide respite from the hot sun, and were surely a coveted place of native peoples when they inhabited this land. In fact, you can see evidence of how the Cahuilla survived here, holes from their mortars dug deep into the stones. The desert was their grocery store, one they held deep respect for.

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A quick walk beyond the oasis connected me back to the thirsty desert, but also introduced me to the magic of Joshua Tree. There before me giant boulders, seemingly dropped from the sky, littered the landscape. A soft red hue of rocks in piles here and there.

Eager to explore more in this playground of Mother Nature, I continued down the road to my campsite at Jumbo Rocks, stopping briefly at Arch Rock, then entering into the Mojave Desert. This is where the splendor of Joshua Tree really lies.

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Sitting at my spot awhile later, admiring the view as the sinking sun glowed off the rocks, I was greeted by a hummingbird. A welcome visitor, the glistening green and ruby throated creature buzzed about my head and hovered nearby, sipping on the sweet nectar of the yellow flowering bush. This friend came back each night I was there. The hummingbird has powerful significance, often the spirit of loved one visiting you. For me, perhaps my great aunt who made this journey possible. Or maybe my grandma who was getting ready to pass and join her husband in the stars. Both were welcome companions. Indigenous peoples also believed hummingbirds crossing your path meant you were headed in the right direction, on a journey to a whole-hearted life. It feels fitting.

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My second full day in Joshua Tree I opted for the Panorama Loop hike on the far west side, an area less visited, quieter, with spectacular views. I started down the sandy wash early, planning a slow hike. That was a good idea because trekking down the wash was hard! It’s like walking onto the beach, through loose sand, and your friend keep saying, “No, let’s go over there” and pointing to a spot a mile away. Each step was really a half step as the sand twisted and turned under my foot. What a workout!

The scenery distracted me from the effort though. Gnarled, tufted Joshua Trees spread out across the desert floor in both directions. Some reaching straight up towards the sky, others twisting and turning as arms grew, still others bending down to the ground and then back up again. They are unlike anything I have ever seen, each one it’s own unique creation. As I admired them, magenta Prickly Pear caught my attention too, a vibrant contrast to the otherwise brown and green landscape.

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Eventually I left the wash (thank goodness) and began to the climb to the ridge. Joshua Trees provided shade when I needed a rest and the summit provided a spectacular view of California. I made it to the other coast – I can’t believe it! Sitting on the peak, I celebrated how far I have come in my journey.

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The following day, my cousin Sean drove out to visit me, a wonderful gift. It had been five years since I’d last seen him in person. It meant a lot that he was willing to take time off of work to come hang out with me. We had a blast!

First we stopped at the Hidden Valley Nature Trail to stretch out legs around the loop, and soon found ourselves off trail climbing over the boulders strewn about like Lego pieces after a full day of playing. In every direction there was something new that caught our eye and called for us to investigate. Holes bored in rock from rain, sloping rock mountains to climb, strange looking formations to explore. Everywhere you look, a new shape jumps out a you – a hand, a fish, a dripping paintbrush.

Our exploring continued at Hall of Horrors down the road. We weren’t quite sure why it had that name, but when we turned around the first giant mound of rocks and lost sight of everyone else, we thought maybe we knew why. Strangely, we never saw those people in the parking lot again.

We made out way back luckily, but not before wandering around, peering in caves created by balanced rock, climbing into slot canyons, crawling through crevasses to see what was on the other side. Sean and I felt like kids again, temporarily escaping the responsibilities of adulthood. It was wonderful to be free and curious and playful. I think we should all let that inner child out more often, no matter our age.

Good conversations at the van wrapped up our day together, and I drove Sean back to his truck at the visitors center. The visit was too short, but that just means we have to get together again soon!

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My last day in Joshua Tree I was feeling run down, yet still called to explore. So I had a slow morning, rested, and planned an easy hike near the campsite. I set out to see Skull Rock, enjoying the nature trail on the way. Signs helped me learn about ways indigenous peoples used (and use) the desert plants, like red top buckwheat which has leaves good for a tea to relieve a headache and flowers good for a tea as an eyewash.

Largely alone on the trail, I enjoyed the peace and solitude, remembering how lucky I am to be here. Skull Rock eventually came into view, and then Face Rock, and a few others I found myself. One looked like a manatee, another an alien head. The faulting, eroding, and falling of the rocks creates a landscape that pulls on your imagination.

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That evening, after an afternoon of rest and postcard writing (send me a message if you’d like one!), I drove out to Keys View to watch the sunset. High on a ridge, you look out at the San Andreas fault and Palm Springs down below. Layers of mountains stretch into the distance, becoming clearer each time the sun dips a little lowers.

While there were lots of fellow sunset watchers around, I find a quick spot on a rock and settled in for the show. The sun burned golden and bright, breaking through the haze of the valley, casting blue and gray shadows on the landscape. As it slowly sank lower, it burned marigold orange, and then vanished behind the mountains. But the show did not end. The light continued to pain the sky, soft pinks and reds, purples up above. The colors spread out, hugging the tips of the peaks.

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When the light was almost all but gone, I went back to the van and drove the miles back to Jumbo Rocks. The van headlights reflected off the Joshua Trees, creating an eerie and cool scene. Back at the campground it was pitch black, a great setup for stargazing. I laid down for a few minutes and enjoyed the view above, comforted by the sounds of families around me enjoying their evening.

The next morning I headed out of the park, driving slowly to soak up the Mars landscape one last time. Then I was off, headed towards LA to have lunch with my Uncle Jamie and Aunt Lydia (Sean’s parents), before moving to my next destination.