Joshua Tree

When I hopped into the car to make my way to the desert the next day, so many things were reminding me of Southern Ontario in the winter.  Roads were covered with sand and the wind was starting to form dunes in a few places.  Had I snapped a black and white photo, I could have fooled anyone into believing it was drifting snow.   And opposed to the rust holes and salt damage we see so frequently up north, most of the older cars in the town had a severe sand-blasted look. 

The drive from Palm Springs to the northern entrances of Joshua Tree is easy and takes no more than 30 minutes.  I had researched the Park extensively prior to the trip, looking for good trail running options and I found a lot online.  Still, I dropped into the Visitor Center to get the local opinion.  Without hesitation, the Ranger recommended that I start with the Boy Scout Trail and then make my way into the Wonderland of Rocks via the Willow Hole Trail which was going to be another short 3-4 mile run.  That would leave me plenty of time to try out something else in the afternoon.

Joshua Tree is remarkable.  Truly, truly remarkable.  While the vegetation gets the prime marquee, to me, it’s the geology of the park that makes it special.  I appreciate that the world is old and that, over time, countless events will shift, shape, bend and break the environment.  But that still doesn’t adequately explain what I saw.  Rocks have no business being arranged like they are in Joshua Tree.   Massive boulders should not be placed neatly on top of one another and remain that way for eons with the San Adreas Fault just miles to the west.

The composition of the Boy Scout Trail and the Willow Hole Trail is very much like the trails at Torrey Pines.  It’s all very granular sand, but much deeper than the coast.  Still, it’s pleasant to run on. 

The environment is absolutely distracting as the Boy Scout Trail teases you into the Wonderland of Rocks.  Lonely rock piles are scattered occasionally off to the north and a long, intimidating mountain flanks you to the south.  One can’t help but think that you’re being funneled down towards some unknown destination.   As it turns out, that’s exactly what’s happening as the Willow Hole Trail apparently ends at a seasonal waterhole.

Initially, the Trails were wide and simple to follow.  The odd wash opened up making the choice of direction a little more open to interpretation; however, it was pretty difficult to go wrong with the rocks gently guiding the way.  The situation changed a mile or so into the Willow Hole Trail though.   The trail really tightened up and the rocks started to loom over me like angry parents (not mine of course).  Scampering over boulders and squeezing through openings made the running a little more challenging and enjoyable at the same time.

I knew that the Willow Hole Trail did not have a marked end.  So when I came upon a bit of an opening that I couldn’t find my way out of, I figured I had found it and turned myself around.   The return trip started out pretty laissez-faire.  At one point, I hopped up on a boulder and laid back to relax and enjoy the desert.   By the time I got back to the Boy Scout Trail, I was feeling energized and really wanted to let the legs go for the last mile of the run.  So I hammered it.  Unfortunately, my Salomon running vest has seen better days and my GU gels kept bouncing out of the pockets.   My annoyance level had peaked the third time I had to stop and “leave no trace”.   Annoyance quickly changed to confusion though when, after getting going again, I happened upon this in the middle of the trail.  Apparently, I wasn’t the only animal in the park interested in sunning itself.

I had my first true “It’s Always Sunny in Philadelphia” ohhhhhh sh1t moment.  Like I said, I was utterly and completely confused.  I had seen so many lizards throughout the run that a must’ve lulled myself into believing that that was all I was going to see.   So without thinking twice, I grabbed my phone and started snapping pics, getting closer and closer to determine whether there was a rattle on the end of it’s tail (there was). 

With the photo shoot over, my brain began working again and I thought, “what the hell am I supposed to do now”?  I’m no expert in the behaviors of rattlesnakes, so there was no way that I was going to just walk around it.

Thought one ... kick some sand in its direction.  That should get it going ... Fail.

Thought two ... throw a twig in front of it.  That should get it going ... Fail.

Thought three ... nice going idiot, you’ve probably just pissed it off.

Thought four ... he/she owns the trail.  Get off the trail, go into the brush and around it.

Thought five ... what in the hell is that?!  His/her friend slithered from one side of the trail to the place I was planning to walk.

Thought six ... I’m surrounded by f’ing rattlesnakes.  My brain exploded at that very moment.

I’m not sure how long I stood there dumfounded, but I eventually remembered that I had downloaded a Pest Control App on the night a rat terrorized my house.  So, I grabbed my phone again only to be disappointed that I had removed said app long ago ... though I doubt it had a setting for snakes.   With phone in hand, I started scrolling through my music, chose “Wrong” by the Archers of Loaf and did my best John Cusack, Say Anything impression in my last ditch, hail-mary attempt to secure myself safe passage.

To my shock, the snake actually started to move but it was taking its sweet ol’ time.  I looked down and noticed the whistle on my running vest so I began blowing madly into it.  The snake got going a little faster and I looked like a dweeb from Toronto who clearly had no business being anywhere but in the city or suburbs.

Eventually, the snake had made its way off the trail so I decided to make my move.  Initially, I planned to pass by it calmly and slowly.  But when its rattle started going, what was left of my melted brain went into hyper-drive and so too did my legs.   I covered that last half mile at a ferocious pace, jumped into my car and got out of dodge.

I am completely certain that I did EVERTYHING wrong with respect to how deal with an encounter with a rattlesnake (‘twas a Red Diamond Rattlesnake btw).  Looking back, I would have been completely safe just walking around it.  After-all, it wasn’t coiled so it wouldn’t have been able to strike out at me, but my method of “making a lot of noise to scare away an animal with no ears” ended up working so there you have it ...

To cap off an interesting adventure, I decided to swing into the Sonic resto that I noticed on the way to the park.  I’ve only ever seen Sonic commercials and wanted to check it out.   So, I ordered from the car and then waited in the car for my Sonic Dog to be delivered.  I mentioned earlier that this is a very windy place ... the wind farms, the sand-blasted cars ... the news report of the 18-wheeler that tipped over on the highway just the day before ... so you’d think then that the shtick of waitresses on roller skates would have been rejected long ago at this particular location.  Well, it hadn’t been and as I sat there watching my server, through the rear-view, make her way across the parking lot, I figured it would all end badly.  And it did ... sort of.  The poor girl was blown violently by a big gust of wind right into the ordering kiosk but, as though she’d been blown around a thousand times before, she didn’t go down or even drop a single thing.  When I asked if she was ok, she responded as though nothing had happened.  Where the hell was I?