Anza Borrego Badlands
While researching our trip to Utah, I was surprised to read that a "slot canyon" was only 83 miles from my house, out in the wide skies of Anza Borrego State Park. I did a little research and it looked -- at least on the computer screen -- really beautiful and interesting. So on this "special day" I decided to truck on out past Julian and down into the desert to see it all for myself.
The weather report looked promising yesterday. In fact, the only concern was whether I would bake my brains out. Unfortunately, the wind is back. It seems like I've written so often of the desert wind in the last month that I'll let ol' Ed Abbey have a turn:
"Time of the red eye, the sore and bloody nostril, the sand-pitted windshield, if one is foolish enough to drive his car into such a storm. Time to sit indoors and continue that letter which is never finished--while the fine dust forms neat little windrows under the edge of the door and on the windowsills. Yet the springtime winds are as much a part of the canyon country as the silence and the glamorous distances; you learn, after a number of years, to love them also."
--Edward Abbey, Desert Solitaire
Me, I'm having a harder time with it -- especially as I jump on my mountain bike and head off toward the slot. I'm being blown off the already-lousy dirt road and the roar of the wind is deafening, claustrophobic. But I grit my teeth, persevere, and the miles tick by. Soon I'm looking down into the narrow (but drab) slot canyon. It sure ain't Antelope Canyon. The only upside is the solitude is complete -- and there's something adventurous about pedaling into a remote sea of barren land, no one in sight, and diving down into the dry depths.
I leave my bike on the rim (little chance anyone will pass by today) and head in. Down below the wind completely dies away, replaced by a welcome silence as I disappear, completely, for a while.
The view from the top of the slot.
0 comments:
Post a Comment