desert plants… in the desert
Let me start with a piece of advice: New hiking boots plus old, thin socks can be a painful combination!
Yesterday I tagged along with a group of hikers that I’d done a trip with a couple years ago. The destination this time was a cluster of four survey benchmarks along the U.S.-Mexican border. One of them appeared on the map as “Bennie.” The others quickly got tagged as “the Jets,” after the old Elton John song.
Some hikers prefer leisurely strolls over flat, carefully maintained paths. This group isn’t made up of any of that variety. At one point on the hike, while we were crossing a broad, flat, sandy valley, one of the core members apologized to me. “Our hikes are are usually a lot more uphill than this.”
That was what I recollected from the last trip I’d taken with the group. But I’m not in the same condition that I was for that earlier hike. Yesterday, thirteen and a half miles of travel—which included climbing up the slick face of a dry waterfall, two stubbed toes and five blisters on my feet—was adventure enough for me!
Here are some of the hikers, including Parasol Patsy, who set a high standard of looking cool and casual in the wilds.
Say “desert” to anyone and they’ll probably think of cactus. This is the California barrel cactus, Ferocactus cylindraceus. It proved to be a common presence all along the trip whenever we climbed above the dry stream beds.
The next image shows the hillside terrain, complete with barrel cactus, cholla cactus (Cylindropuntia sp., in the center, front), and—most dramatic to the left—ocotillo, Fouquieria splendens. Almost anyone who has hiked in these areas knows that a common name for some cholla cactus species is “jumping cholla,” a piece of urban legend deriving from the fact that the plants can break apart into little bits anytime anyone as much as touches the plant. The little barbs hold on to your clothing or your skin and work themselves into your clothes or your skin, taking a piece of the plant with them. It only looks like they jump. (Anyone looking for an idea for a horror movie?)
The ocotillos were leafing out, a sure sign that it’s rained in the area recently. The plants can grow and shed their leaves several times each year in response to rainfall. Some were developing buds at the ends of their stems in preparation for the outrageous flowerings of tubular orange-red blooms that these plants are capable of.
Another sure sign of recent rains was this massive desert lake, in the heart of Davies Valley. Few plants grew in the immediate area, letting you know that these desert plants prefer occasional sprinkles of water rather than wallowing in it.
This being the desert, signs of lack of water were all around…
A trip to this area gives you the feeling that the border between the U.S. and Mexico is a purely arbitrary one. Gosh, there isn’t even a welcome sign or a border fence in these parts. How rude.
These are two views into Mexico from the promontories we climbed on the trip. Occasional pieces of discarded clothing, abandoned empty water bottles and—weirdly—a frying pan let you know that this was an area that was used for border crossings. On this late-December day temperatures reached the mid-sixties, perfect hiking weather. Border crossings done at other times of the year, when the temperatures would be over 110, would prove a lot more dangerous.
Any trip to the border regions isn’t complete without an encounter with the U.S. Border Patrol. This was out first contact, a flyover by an agency helicopter. Later, at the end of the hike, as we were packing up our cars, we were visited by agents in two SUVs. For officers who don’t know what to do with the desert it must be a dusty, tedious job. I like to think that attending to a group of tired hikers was a fun break in their routine.
The visit by the Border Patrol was a fitting end to the trip. This only looked like a trek through unspoiled wilderness. The truth is that this is an area that’s complex with political intrigue and history, and where the tensions of economic survival coincide with issues of basic human endurance and survival.
I try hard to find landscapes that to me feel pure and untouched by the ways of humanity. But a trip like this tells you that such a place doesn’t exist.
December 30 2008 06:13 pm | Categories: landscape • places | Tags: cholla cactus • Cylindropuntia • desert plants • deserts • Ferocactus cylindraceus • Fouquieria splendens • hiking • immigration • native plants • ocotillos • politics • U.S.-Mexico border • water
Philip on 30 Dec 2008 at 7:07 pm #
Hi James,
I loved taking this hike, via your blog. We have traversed the desert, but never quite as far south to the US border.
So interesting about the water pans. Perhaps there is too much salt. I love the dramatic shape of
Fouquieria splendens, and I would love to see it leafing out. 13 1/2 miles is a good day of hiking, but looks wonderful in cooler temps.
So poignant about the frying pan, and other markers of people’s crossing. The desert clears the mind, and can be soul expanding, and in this place your thoughts on the human condition resonates.
lostlandscape on 30 Dec 2008 at 7:29 pm #
Glad you could come along for the hike, Philip!
I agree with you about the effects of the desert on the mind. Its openness, its clarity seem to create similar things in a person’s thoughts. I often feel sorry for folks who have always lived in surroundings that are lush in foliage but poor in the sense of space and geology that the desert affords.
The ocotillo is definitely an impressive plant. In fact there’s a town named after the plant within a dozen miles of the start of the hike. How could you not celebrate it?
Susan (garden-chick) on 31 Dec 2008 at 7:57 am #
Hi James,
What a wonderful way to spend the day. I lived in Southern California (Riverside and Santa Barbara) until moving to Northern California 12 years ago. One of my favorite winter hikes was Joshua Tree - beautiful desert landscape, bright blue sky and absolute silence. Plus, the opportunity to stop at Hadleys for a Date Shake on the way home!
lostlandscape on 31 Dec 2008 at 10:52 am #
Hadleys date shakes—yessss! I remember that trip treat from years ago. There used to be a closer Hadleys, up the coat a dozen miles from here but they’ve been gone for a few years.
And I agree on Joshua Tree being gorgeous. Within five miles of this hike spot begins an area that’s virtually indistinguishable from Jtree, but there’s no Hadleys on the way home. Poor design if I say so.