The Indio Greyhound station is a weird scene. Between the homeless man yelling semi-intelligible profanities at the girl behind the ticket counter and the gangsters with face tattoos eyeing you apprehensively, it makes for a rather unnerving place to wait nearly three hours for a bus. Add to that the San Bernardino rush hour traffic and wait for my ride from the abominable Los Angeles Greyhound station and you can perhaps understand my feeling a relief at finally drifting off to sleep at Max’s apartment.
The next day, between naps, I found the time to buy groceries and prepare a twelve servings’ worth of lasagna noodles and filling. When Max came home from work, we cooked up a batch for dinner and then walked to get gelato at a place on nearby Sunset Boulevard where I’m certain I spotted Jena Malone!
Showing posts with label Chocolate Mountain Hot Springs. Show all posts
Showing posts with label Chocolate Mountain Hot Springs. Show all posts
Friday, November 26, 2010
Monday, November 22, 2010
Dreams
Another aspect of my current lifestyle for which I wasn’t prepared is the amount of spare time it affords me. Of all things, I have managed to invest an inordinate amount of this surplus of time in sleep. I think there’s something about getting more sleep that tends to enliven the world of your dreams.
To wit, I have a number of odd and vivid dreams and even nightmares. In particular, I one dream stands out which included seeing behind me in a mirror's reflection, the macabre and ghostly image of woman who wasn’t there. Also, in my dreams I have seen a cat raise a bird as if it was its own, only to see it eat the bird as soon as it came of age. And most recently, there was the alarming affair of diving into a pool of abrasive chemicals in order to survive an explosion, to be left grossly deformed and scarred.
How odd.
To wit, I have a number of odd and vivid dreams and even nightmares. In particular, I one dream stands out which included seeing behind me in a mirror's reflection, the macabre and ghostly image of woman who wasn’t there. Also, in my dreams I have seen a cat raise a bird as if it was its own, only to see it eat the bird as soon as it came of age. And most recently, there was the alarming affair of diving into a pool of abrasive chemicals in order to survive an explosion, to be left grossly deformed and scarred.
How odd.
Sunday, November 21, 2010
Farmer and Cave Dweller
One of the unexpected pleasures of my stay at Chocolate mountain has been to hear the occasional anecdotes that make up glimpses of the life and times of my host, Gordon. A native of southern California, Gordon came of age in the 70’s and adhered to Timothy Leary’s famous formula; “Tune in, turn on, drop out”. To Gordon, this could have taken one of several forms. For instances he recalls a back-to-nature community that would have taken him as well as Norman Paulsen’s famous Sunburst community.
In the end, Gordon chose a route that he likens to that of Eden Ahbez, the famous naturist and songwriter who lived for a time in the hills behind the Hollywood sign. Gordon made his home in a cave in the mountains near Palm Springs where he lived for an entire year subsisting on food he gathered from the wilderness and gleaned on trips into town. Notably, during his time in the mountains, he had contact with Douglas Bachelor, another cave dweller who would go on to become a renowned televangelist.
Somewhere in-between then and the present day, Gordon came to own a lot in Ojai where managed to support himself by growing mulberries and carob. During his time there, the value of his land appreciated to such a degree that he was able to buy his current homestead overlooking the Salton Sea as well as a few parcels of land in the mountains above Palm Springs. Here is some video he had another WWOOFer shoot of his mountains paradise:
In the end, Gordon chose a route that he likens to that of Eden Ahbez, the famous naturist and songwriter who lived for a time in the hills behind the Hollywood sign. Gordon made his home in a cave in the mountains near Palm Springs where he lived for an entire year subsisting on food he gathered from the wilderness and gleaned on trips into town. Notably, during his time in the mountains, he had contact with Douglas Bachelor, another cave dweller who would go on to become a renowned televangelist.
Somewhere in-between then and the present day, Gordon came to own a lot in Ojai where managed to support himself by growing mulberries and carob. During his time there, the value of his land appreciated to such a degree that he was able to buy his current homestead overlooking the Salton Sea as well as a few parcels of land in the mountains above Palm Springs. Here is some video he had another WWOOFer shoot of his mountains paradise:
Saturday, November 20, 2010
Salvation Mountain and Slab City
With the winds still whipping and errands to run, we decided to make a run down Route 111 past the Wister Waterfowl Management area to Calipatria, a mere 34 miles from the Mexican border. There I read some of the literature the Peace Corps had sent me with my invitation packet and Gordon did some shopping while our respective loads of laundry ran.
On our way back we hung a right at Niland and drove another couple of miles to arrive at Salvation Mountain. As took in the “mountain”, its famous creator, Leonard, arrived to the delight of a Christian youth group that had come to host a free barbeque at nearby Slab City. He gave us a tour and I would have stayed for the free chicken but something told me it wasn’t Gordon’s scene, so I graciously took my leave.
After an interesting conversation with one of Leonard’s self-appointed assistants, a social worker from New York who had come to the Southeast six years ago to work with native groups, Gordon gave me a cursory tour of he The Slabs, an informal constellation of squatters which together America’s longest-standing undisputed homeless camp. It was decidedly less glamorous and campy than its depiction in Into The Wild.
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| I stand on Salvation Mountain (Gordon brought his camera) |
On our way back we hung a right at Niland and drove another couple of miles to arrive at Salvation Mountain. As took in the “mountain”, its famous creator, Leonard, arrived to the delight of a Christian youth group that had come to host a free barbeque at nearby Slab City. He gave us a tour and I would have stayed for the free chicken but something told me it wasn’t Gordon’s scene, so I graciously took my leave.
After an interesting conversation with one of Leonard’s self-appointed assistants, a social worker from New York who had come to the Southeast six years ago to work with native groups, Gordon gave me a cursory tour of he The Slabs, an informal constellation of squatters which together America’s longest-standing undisputed homeless camp. It was decidedly less glamorous and campy than its depiction in Into The Wild.
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| Inside Salvation Mountain |
Friday, November 19, 2010
Viewing Material
One of the highlights of my stay at Chocolate Mountain Hot Springs has been the unusual and eclectic selection of viewing material available. After our requisite three hours of daily labor Gordon and I are left with the rest of the day to philosophize, tell stories, and share observations about pop culture. In the process of expounding on some obscure vein of half-wit and wisdom on my second or third day, I chanced to mention my fascination with the Heaven’s Gate incident which took place in Rancho Santa Fe, a rich suburb of nearby San Diego. This proved to be my entrée into to unique media library available to me here at the Hot Springs.
As it turns out, Gordon recorded more than two hours of news footage, documenting the media response in the hours and days following the discovery of the suicides, including no fewer than two prime time specials. Since then, to the delight of my inner trainspotter, I’ve been treated to the likes of such gems as
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| A distinctive collection |
As it turns out, Gordon recorded more than two hours of news footage, documenting the media response in the hours and days following the discovery of the suicides, including no fewer than two prime time specials. Since then, to the delight of my inner trainspotter, I’ve been treated to the likes of such gems as
- A retrospective on life and times Margaret Mead produced by California’s public television affiliate
- A documentary telling the story of a family that settled the nearby Anza-Borrego desert following the Great Depression
- An episode of Star Trek that features an example of the curious phenomenon known as “space hippies," which exist within the greater genre of science fiction
- A collection of news coverage shown at the time of the WTO protests in Seattle
- A film from the 1950’s depicting Thor Heyerdahl’s trans-Atlantic voyage with an international crew of researchers in a reed boat.
- A documentary on the 1972 advent of a hippy/egalitarian/spiritual phenomenon called the Rainbow Gathering which is now an annual event attracting anarchists and counter-culture people of every stripe.
- A 1970's cult classic film featuring Jimi Hendrix, called Rainbow Bridge
Thursday, November 18, 2010
Rancho Mirage, Palm Desert, and San Jacinto
With the Santa Ana winds gusting at upwards of 30 miles per hour and a week’s worth of provisions exhausted, Gordon decided it was time to make a run of I-10 to civilization. The timing couldn’t have been better, too, with my finally having corrected all errors on my passport and visa forms and consulted the nearest UPS licensee regarding hours and services. Gordon and I hopped into his Corolla and made the hour-long trek to the posh desert shopping oasis of Rancho Mirage/Palm Desert.
With the day’s heat not having fully arrived, Gordon elected to show me a hike at the nearby San Jacinto National Monument. Together we climbed through a canyon and up a dry ravine to a wild grove of palms that grew so close together that the dead branches that hung from their trunks appeared to form an almost impenetrable wall. For a while we basked in the shade of nearby rocks while Gordon regaled me with descriptions of something called the Rainbow Gathering.
Back in town we navigated the circuitous thicket of retail the posh twin desert communities had to offer, passing by golf courses and stopping at an old experimental carob grove which had once been written up in the LA Times. At last it was off to Clark’s Nutrition and PostNet (think Postal Annex, or Mailboxes, Etc.) to get passport photos taken and go over the instructions for the eleventy-billionth time lest commit an error that would lead to the delay of my passport and visa processing and thus not get in to the Peace Corps.
Having meticulously followed every instruction to the letter and turned in my UPS package for delivery, I breathed a sigh of relief, satisfied that I had taken care of the last order of business required to see to it that I wouldn’t miss my opportunity to serve.
With the day’s heat not having fully arrived, Gordon elected to show me a hike at the nearby San Jacinto National Monument. Together we climbed through a canyon and up a dry ravine to a wild grove of palms that grew so close together that the dead branches that hung from their trunks appeared to form an almost impenetrable wall. For a while we basked in the shade of nearby rocks while Gordon regaled me with descriptions of something called the Rainbow Gathering.
Back in town we navigated the circuitous thicket of retail the posh twin desert communities had to offer, passing by golf courses and stopping at an old experimental carob grove which had once been written up in the LA Times. At last it was off to Clark’s Nutrition and PostNet (think Postal Annex, or Mailboxes, Etc.) to get passport photos taken and go over the instructions for the eleventy-billionth time lest commit an error that would lead to the delay of my passport and visa processing and thus not get in to the Peace Corps.
Having meticulously followed every instruction to the letter and turned in my UPS package for delivery, I breathed a sigh of relief, satisfied that I had taken care of the last order of business required to see to it that I wouldn’t miss my opportunity to serve.
Wednesday, November 17, 2010
A Visit from Steven and Emily
The other day, Gordon announced to me that his long-time friend from Ojai, Steven, had called and was coming by, quite on the spur of the moment, bringing with him his partner, Emily. After some confusion over a missed phone connection, they arrived at Chocolate Mountain for their first time ever.
Steven, it turns out, is a masseur and reflexologist who used to run a spa in his back yard in Ojai that at one time rivaled the region’s nearby number-two spa, serving the likes of celebrities like Tim Burton. Steven told me he used to keep it booked solid and the competition referred to him as the “pirate spa” due to his being unlisted and operating in an under-the-radar kind of way.
He was duly impressed with the life Gordon had made for himself and prompted him to get out an enormous map of California’s geothermal water resources, the result of a government study in the 90’s. Gordon explained with enthusiasm the process by which he has staked his little claim amongst the hot springs of the region.
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| Before (in front of Gordon's tool shed, facing southeast) |
Steven, it turns out, is a masseur and reflexologist who used to run a spa in his back yard in Ojai that at one time rivaled the region’s nearby number-two spa, serving the likes of celebrities like Tim Burton. Steven told me he used to keep it booked solid and the competition referred to him as the “pirate spa” due to his being unlisted and operating in an under-the-radar kind of way.
He was duly impressed with the life Gordon had made for himself and prompted him to get out an enormous map of California’s geothermal water resources, the result of a government study in the 90’s. Gordon explained with enthusiasm the process by which he has staked his little claim amongst the hot springs of the region.
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| After |
Monday, November 15, 2010
Dump Day
I’ve stumbled into an odd little piece of Americana, Glamis North KOA, which is less than a mile’s walk from Chocolate Mountain Hot Springs and which, thankfully, has free wifi. Here I sit amidst ads and merchandise targeted at the motorhome camping and off-roading set, in a chair made in that whole-branch log-cabin style.
Today, as per his weekly ritual, Gordon and I hauled a load of trash from his place and the vacant place next door (which he also owns) in his 1950's GMC pickup to the dump less than four miles away. Gordon explained to me that he bought the place years ago from a compulsive hoarder who proceeded to spy from nearby to see what Gordon did with all the junk that was left behind on the property.
The place used to be a tilapia farm where geothermal spring water was gathered in man-made pools that now sit in front of Gordon’s ranch-style house and serve as a nice place to soak and let water cool before it is used on his date palms. The water comes out too hot for use, and must be allowed to cool also before it can be run from the taps in the house, so all the water we use on a daily basis is cold, including water I use to show each day. This is no real hardship for me since I had to do it for six months while I lived as a volunteer in Guatemala.
Today, as per his weekly ritual, Gordon and I hauled a load of trash from his place and the vacant place next door (which he also owns) in his 1950's GMC pickup to the dump less than four miles away. Gordon explained to me that he bought the place years ago from a compulsive hoarder who proceeded to spy from nearby to see what Gordon did with all the junk that was left behind on the property.
The place used to be a tilapia farm where geothermal spring water was gathered in man-made pools that now sit in front of Gordon’s ranch-style house and serve as a nice place to soak and let water cool before it is used on his date palms. The water comes out too hot for use, and must be allowed to cool also before it can be run from the taps in the house, so all the water we use on a daily basis is cold, including water I use to show each day. This is no real hardship for me since I had to do it for six months while I lived as a volunteer in Guatemala.
Sunday, November 14, 2010
Bombay Beach
The Salton Sea has a strange and storied past, the details of which are expressed in a documentary in far more and better detail than I'll try to represent here. The documentary is called Plagues & Pleasures on the Salton Sea and came highly recommended from Gordon prior to going down to Bombay Beach. In an amusing aside, the girl featured in the Bombay Beach segment who is very enthusiastic about sports and staying off drugs is now a volunteer at the North Shore Yacht Club which serves as a sort of museum and visitor center for the sea.
Bombay Beach, it turns out, is a very unique sight to see. Laid out on a grid of 8 blocks by 4 blocks, its actual connection to the sea itself has been severed by a levee perhaps 20 feet high of piled earth. While I was told that there’s a bar there, I was unable to find it. All a saw was motorhomes and double-wide manufactured homes, the nicest of which being situated furthest from the sea. Some lots contained abandoned or burned-out structures, decaying in the salty air. Here and there someone carted along in a golf cart. The only nonresidential dwellings I could find were the Seaside Baptist Church, a defunct grocery store, a convenient store, and a small hotel. I’ll be sure to stay there at least one night should I ever return.
Bombay Beach, it turns out, is a very unique sight to see. Laid out on a grid of 8 blocks by 4 blocks, its actual connection to the sea itself has been severed by a levee perhaps 20 feet high of piled earth. While I was told that there’s a bar there, I was unable to find it. All a saw was motorhomes and double-wide manufactured homes, the nicest of which being situated furthest from the sea. Some lots contained abandoned or burned-out structures, decaying in the salty air. Here and there someone carted along in a golf cart. The only nonresidential dwellings I could find were the Seaside Baptist Church, a defunct grocery store, a convenient store, and a small hotel. I’ll be sure to stay there at least one night should I ever return.
Saturday, November 13, 2010
Chocolate Mountain Hot Springs
Well, my camera has chosen an inopportune time to stop working. The views of the valley from here in the foothills of the Chocolate Mountains are simply breathtaking. My host, Gordon, was farming for years and even ran a hostel for a time before he carved out a little homestead overlooking Bombay Beach, the northern part of the Salton Sea, and the Santa Rosa and San Jacinto mountains to the west.
My time here so far has been somewhat more reposeful than in Hinkley. Each morning, I widen the basin around one of his smaller trees, an olive or persimmon, while he trims the leaf nodes from one of his several date palms down to the trunk in preparation to fit it with a metal apparatus for deterring the kangaroo rats which breed here in great abundance and which can greatly reduce his yield. Another way he combats the rats is with traps he sets for them, to release them a couple of miles down the road.
The situation here is somewhat more austere. Because the amount of work Gordon has for me is so limited (harvest is over and there are no new plants going in), it isn’t really worth it to him to provide food. While he doesn’t impose restrictions on my diet, I am not allowed to fry food in a skillet or bake things because his guests in the past have made messes doing these things. This leaves me to boil or steam my food or else eat it raw.
My time here so far has been somewhat more reposeful than in Hinkley. Each morning, I widen the basin around one of his smaller trees, an olive or persimmon, while he trims the leaf nodes from one of his several date palms down to the trunk in preparation to fit it with a metal apparatus for deterring the kangaroo rats which breed here in great abundance and which can greatly reduce his yield. Another way he combats the rats is with traps he sets for them, to release them a couple of miles down the road.
The situation here is somewhat more austere. Because the amount of work Gordon has for me is so limited (harvest is over and there are no new plants going in), it isn’t really worth it to him to provide food. While he doesn’t impose restrictions on my diet, I am not allowed to fry food in a skillet or bake things because his guests in the past have made messes doing these things. This leaves me to boil or steam my food or else eat it raw.
Friday, November 12, 2010
Mapping My Travels
Now that I have a place I can go for broadband, I’ve taken to marking on a public Google Map the places I mention on this travelogue, just for fun. You can check out my handiwork here:
http://maps.google.com/maps/ms?hl=en&gl=us&ie=UTF8&oe=UTF8&msa=0&msid=117702813592369502039.000494a3a33cde084688f
On an unrelated note, I jumped on a promotional deal Southwest Airlines was advertising for cheap airfare to Portland. I works out to about the same price as it would be to take the train and takes only 4 hours instead of 30. So, my return date is set for December 20.
http://maps.google.com/maps/ms?hl=en&gl=us&ie=UTF8&oe=UTF8&msa=0&msid=117702813592369502039.000494a3a33cde084688f
On an unrelated note, I jumped on a promotional deal Southwest Airlines was advertising for cheap airfare to Portland. I works out to about the same price as it would be to take the train and takes only 4 hours instead of 30. So, my return date is set for December 20.
Thursday, November 11, 2010
Joshua Tree: Part 4
After breaking camp and bidding Tim a fond farewell, Michael, Corey, and I neatly packed ourselves and all our things into Michael’s two-door Honda and made for the highway, checking out a breathtaking “key view” from which I could actually see the Salton Sea. After a brief interlude in 29 Palms to retrieve my next host’s number from my battery-dead phone, we continued south and west around the Little San Bernardino Mountains and east toward Indio and the Salton Sea.
End of the line for me was Clark's health food store in Rancho Mirage where Gordon, my next host, had arranged to meet with me. There I bid adeu to Michael and Corey and after a breif food shopping interlude rode with Gordon for about an hour to his small lot on a hillside overlooking the Salton Sea.
End of the line for me was Clark's health food store in Rancho Mirage where Gordon, my next host, had arranged to meet with me. There I bid adeu to Michael and Corey and after a breif food shopping interlude rode with Gordon for about an hour to his small lot on a hillside overlooking the Salton Sea.
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