Elusive National Parks part II

Post 40

Sunbaked harsh desert landscapes have always intrigued me. There is something so foreign and mysterious about them that continues to draw me towards their unforgiving lands. They manifest themselves to be especially alien or novel since I grew up in the evergreen temperate rainforest of the Pacific Northwest. This differing contrast in terrain, flora and fauna from what I am use to, induces an alluring desire to know more about this alien world. 

The excitement within me to visit Joshua Tree National Park is essentially rooted in my love for desert landscapes. The implausible pictures I’ve seen of giant boulders precariously balancing on one another is alone enough to warrant a visit and closer look. And when you throw in the parks name-sake gangly awkward Joshua trees, it appears to be a Dr. Seuss-esque world of stranger than fiction objects.

In particular the Southwest deserts hold a special place in my backpacking heart. The time I’ve spent hiking and exploring the colorful slick rock canyons and uplifted mountains of the Colorado Plateau are some of the most cherished moments I’ve spent on the trail and immersed in wilderness. Having traveled to over 30 countries throughout the globe, the default question that I’m perpetually being asked is, “what is your favorite place you’ve been?” The answer is unquestionably Southern Utah. Because of this infatuation and resulting affection for the arid barren lands of the world, Becky regularly calls me a desert rat. I don’t deny it, but I also reserve the right to be called a river rat, tree hugger, nemophilist, but ultimately just a nature lover. 

Joshua Tree National Park was the last of California’s nine National Parks that we had yet to visit. Without question it was fully worth the wait to experience this gem of a park. Spending three days and nights hiking and camping within the boundaries was nowhere near enough time to appreciate this vast and dynamic environment. Just as in the pictures I’d seen, the jumble of rocks haphazardly stacked atop each other appeared dangerously close to tumbling over like a strategically elaborate maze of dominoes that a mischievous otherworldly deity had constructed for their own amusement. The Joshua trees themselves also seemed to be created for their own makers hilarity. The base and trunk of the strange tree gave the impression of it wearing absurd fuzzy pants. Extending further up the tree into the crown the trees appearance just became more comical as its random arms swept out in a ludicrous desperate fashion. The impression of the tree screamed that something had gone terribly wrong with their design or quite possibly the biology.