The High Desert

I decided, out of the blue on Thursday, that we needed to go camping Saturday night. I knew we were really close to the true desert, but we've never had a reason to venture out there. It was the perfect opportunity to check out the Mohave, which starts just over the mountains from us and runs all the way through Las Vegas and into a bit of Utah and Arizona:

Kimberly had a big important test Saturday morning, which is why our trip was one night only. She got back mid-afternoon and we headed out.

It's about an hour and a half from our door to Saddleback Butte State Park. The drive was absolutely stunning. From the valley, we climbed about 2,400 ft. through a pass between the Sierra Pelona and San Gabriel mountains. We saw all manner of hills, mountains, impressive mansions precariously perched, canyons, desert, and the crazy and unique rock formations that define the southwestern US. On the other side of the pass we emerged to find a vast expanse of flat arid land: the frontier of the Mohave.

After a nice trip through the desert, we arrived at the park. The primitive campground had 50 first come, first served sites. We didn't know what to expect so there was a bit of risk in driving all the way out there. To our surprise, when we showed up there was the camp manager and two other groups. No crowds to be found. We set up our site and headed for town to find dinner.

Kimberly and her tumbleweed. Our site, under a lean-to, is in the background.

The nearby town was an odd place called Lake Los Angeles (we were still in L.A. county, though this was about as remote in spirit as one could get from a bustling metropolis). Apparently, the town was once known as Los Angeles Buttes, but was rebranded in the housing speculation explosion of the 1960s. The natural lake, almost dried up and forgotten, was artificially filled, and brochures were printed with happy people playing water sports. After the initial sale, the artifical lake was left to evaporate.

Lake Los Angeles, from the top of Saddleback Butte, with the San Gabriel Mountains to the rear.

The town itself was small, quiet, and showed signs of economic depression. The dry lake, it seems, is a fitting metaphor for the state of things in general for Lake Los Angeles. We found a pizza place and ordered one to go.

It was a great evening, with a nice little campfire, surprisingly great pizza, games, and warm, fresh desert air. After the sun set we actually watched as the stars appeared in the sky, one by one, until they were too many to count.

I'm pretty good at building a fire in the damp woods of New Hampshire, but ANYONE could start a fire here. I probably could have just taken a match to our biggest log.

A bit of the dazzling desert sunset, captured by Kimberly.

The next morning we had a rude awakening as the sun came up, shining directly into our tent window, heating it to an uncomfortable degree by 7:30AM. Our only other goal for the trip was to summit Saddleback Butte, the park's namesake.

Saddleback Butte trailhead

The butte stands out from its surroundings, a hard rock holdout from the erosion and flooding that long ago formed the flat desert floor. The trail headed straight from the campground, across an open mile of desert, slowly climbing to the base of the hill, and then abruptly up the side.

By the time we reached the saddle between the two peaks, Kimberly was spent from a combination of heat and not having breakfast. I scrambled the last half mile or so to one of the summit to snap some pictures. It was amazing how fast things heated up as the sun climbed ever higher.

From one peak of Saddleback Butte, looking at the other

One more interesting feature of our trip: Joshua Trees. Relatives of agave plants (the plants whose nectar is the main ingredient of tequila), Joshua trees are found only in the Mohave, and actually help to define the limits of the desert. They are a very whimsical spectacle. I concluded that unlike most plants, for instance stately and uniform trees, these guys just grow and grow without a plan.

One of the largest of the countless Joshua trees we saw in the Mohave.

It was so great to get back out camping again. Now that we have a taste I'm sure we'll get around to it more often from now on. California offers a year-round climate for sleeping outdoors, and limitless locales to find adventures as unique as this one.

Busy

I haven't updated since December. First things were very busy with the move, then things were super busy at work. I have a lot of interesting things to share about our experiences with southern California life so far. I'll try to start posting some of them on here.

Oat Mountain

Our first hike since we moved to SoCal was Oat Mountain. Oat is the highest peak in the Santa Susanas, the mountain range that forms the northern boundary of the San Fernando Valley, where we live, and separates it from Santa Clarita.

click for larger map

The mountain can be seen from all over the valley. In fact, if you go up to the 3rd floor of our apartment building and look northwest, it's the prominent feature of the view.

Oat Mountain is 3,747 ft. high, rising about 3,000 ft. above the valley floor. The trailhead is located in the Michael D. Antonovich Regional Park, a little less than halfway up the mountain on Brown's Canyon road, an extension of De Soto Ave. Oddly, the road is full of "No Trespassing" and "Local Traffic Only" signs, even though it is the only route to this public space. We got freaked out enough to almost turn back before finally reaching the park and seeing other visitors.

The entire trip is fully exposed, as the mountain is too low and dry to be forested. The views of the valley expand quickly as elevation is gained. The hike passes by an LAPD training facility, complete with multiple helipads, one that was in use for a practice rescue mission while we walked by.

It's a steady 2.3 mile climb with 1800 ft. of elevation gain. There were several oil derricks along the path, some close enough to touch, which was an odd little distraction.

As the sun set, the temperature dropped. Eventually, I gave Kimberly my hoodie.

The views from the top were awesome. It was, however, more of a peak bagging experience than a nature walk. We've since visited a ton of other spots with a lot more natural beauty, but it was definitely worth the trip.

The San Fernando Valley from the top.

Santa Clarita, north of the Santa Susanas

Downtown LA, to the southeast. The US Bank Tower is clearly visible in the middle of the skyscrapers.

Moved to California

I have a cactus.

Update from the Road #2

We ended yesterday in Chicago, where we had some Chicago-style pizza for dinner and explored the downtown Michigan Ave. area. We definitely want to go back for a longer visit to Chicago.

Today we drove through Illinois, Wisconsin, and Minnesota, ending just over the border in Sioux Falls, South Dakota. Tomorrow it's 400 miles across South Dakota, stopping by Mt. Rushmore, and then across most of Wyoming. We'll end the day outside of Yellowstone so that we can travel through the park on Saturday.

Internet access is sparse on the road, so we've been communicating mostly with twitter. Our twitter usernames:

danpye
kimberlypye

Update from the Road #1

Written Yesterday:

Yesterday I finished up the rest of our errands, returning the cable modem to Comcast, shipping some packages to myself, canceling the gym membership, etc. and then we left Kimberly’s office at quarter of four. We drove through familiar territory, south on I-495 and then west on I-90, the Mass Pike.

The thing that first made me feel that this trip was different was the highest point sign in western Mass. It declares that the elevation is 1700 something feet and that it’s the highest point on I-90 east of South Dakota. I’ve passed the sign tons of times, but this time I passed it knowing that in a couple of days I would actually reach the point it mentions in South Dakota! It was kind of a crazy thought.

We’re on I-90 for a long time, from almost the start of the trip all the way to Wyoming. Last night we made it to Rochester, NY, or outside Rochester where I-90 passes closest. We stayed at a Days Inn and immediately encountered several people who were much friendlier than the New Englanders we’re used to.

The most exciting thing to happen on the road so far today was seeing Lake Erie while we drove through Pennsylvania. Just as they say, the Great Lakes are like a third coast. It was the first time I saw a lake that went all the way to the horizon.

We’re now driving through Ohio, pressing through all the way to Chicago, where we have a room reserved for the night on Michigan Ave.

Well, it appears that my life really has fallen apart.