"WTF" - which is what I said
or "Salvation Mountain" -which is what it is called
or "HOLY... IS THAT MAN WEARING A LOIN CLOTH?!" -which, yes I did wonder.
From Bombay Beach we headed south past the Salton Sea Mud Pots, Burrowing Owls in copper pipes, and bat caves. We missed the dusty road by the single "grocery store" in "town" and flipped a (no air quotes) U-turn to Slab City.
Your first warning.
Your second warning, not captured on camera. An old, bearded, sun-cancer-fo-sho, man in a loin cloth hauling about 4 or so donkeys on tattered ropes. Not sure if there were four or even if they were donkeys or mules or whatever. I was a bit distracted as the man came speed walking into the path of our vehicle and gave Ross the world's nastiest stink eye as he stepped on the brakes. It was a bit startling and we we wondering if we were brave enough to continue on.
Also a hogan, which had interesting little tokens and knick-kacks throughout.
Can you find the mark Ross left on the sign-in book? Also I love the postcard, "Universe closed, use rainbow."
Of course, the main attraction is Salvation Mountain itself. You can walk up the yellow brick road to the top of the monument- keep in mind that it is five-stories tall.
The view from the top.
Up at the top you can look down at what is known to be Slab City.
See all the little tiny dots out and about the landscape? Those are the residencies of Slab City.
How can I explain "The Slabs" without you falling down the internet rabbit hole? It starts with a decommissioned and dismantled naval training base. On top of those "slabs" a sort of campground was built. And that campground attracted squatters, drifters, hippies, snowbirds, and the like. Touted as "The Last Free Place," it's main draw is the ability to live off the grid. Some set up camp in tents and RVs while others settle in old naval bunkers, or just make their own shelter. It is reported that there are about 2,500 inhabitants between November and March, and 150-200 full-time residents. I can't blame them. Even when we went in May it was scorching hot.
Also, no water, sewer, trash, gas, electricity.
As said internet rabbit hole goes- I found another art installment, or rather evolving artist community called East Jesus. Are you as intrigued as I was? I didn't realize that this would take us on a few different (just cos we were lost) dirt roads through Slab City, so we could get up close and personal with the residents.
Eventually we wound our way to East Jesus. Not to be confused with West Satan. Definitely don't want to go there.
It's an interesting place. I think artists are allowed to stay there as long as they contribute to something for an hour a day. As you can imagine, things are constantly changing and evolving.
I also liked this wall of glass bottles. It's like the poor man's stained glass.
More desert.
And we hadn't. We were still about 50 miles north of the border. Nevertheless, an officer stopped us and in a very authoritative tone asked if we were both U.S. citizens, then let us drive on. This trip just keeps getting weirder and weirder.
We headed home since all of our stops were along the way. I really enjoyed the "texture" of these mountains.
The whole trip was pretty much what I expected it to be, a "Quirky Eccentric Desert Town Trip." But at the same time, nothing I could expect it to be.
or "Salvation Mountain" -which is what it is called
or "HOLY... IS THAT MAN WEARING A LOIN CLOTH?!" -which, yes I did wonder.
From Bombay Beach we headed south past the Salton Sea Mud Pots, Burrowing Owls in copper pipes, and bat caves. We missed the dusty road by the single "grocery store" in "town" and flipped a (no air quotes) U-turn to Slab City.
Your first warning.
Your second warning, not captured on camera. An old, bearded, sun-cancer-fo-sho, man in a loin cloth hauling about 4 or so donkeys on tattered ropes. Not sure if there were four or even if they were donkeys or mules or whatever. I was a bit distracted as the man came speed walking into the path of our vehicle and gave Ross the world's nastiest stink eye as he stepped on the brakes. It was a bit startling and we we wondering if we were brave enough to continue on.
Haha! J/k. Of course we did.
Welcome to Salvation Mountain.
Wiki it, google it, check it out here.
Here's the short version:
-Dude finds Jesus '67
-Dude makes HUGE brightly colored mountain as a dedication to Jesus and his beliefs '84.
Of course, the real story is much more interesting. Find it here.
It kinda gently pops up out of the barren desert landscape. As we pull up this similarly skin-cancer-for-days, sweaty, boardshorts, tank top, bucket hat dude motions to us. We roll down the window as he leans in deathly-close to me. But really, he was pretty chill and just wanted some donation money for the cats that they feed. Sure bro!
Salvation Mountain boasts a height of 50 feet and a breadth of 150 feet. That's probably just the mountain itself. Not the hogan or "museum." This art installation (as some call it) is massive. It's all built out of sticks, straw, adobe, and thousands of gallons of paint. It is truly impressive. The folk-art style and nature of it all is just very fun and fascinating.
I enjoyed winding through the museum portion, sticks and adobe.
Welcome to Salvation Mountain.
Wiki it, google it, check it out here.
Here's the short version:
-Dude finds Jesus '67
-Dude makes HUGE brightly colored mountain as a dedication to Jesus and his beliefs '84.
Of course, the real story is much more interesting. Find it here.
It kinda gently pops up out of the barren desert landscape. As we pull up this similarly skin-cancer-for-days, sweaty, boardshorts, tank top, bucket hat dude motions to us. We roll down the window as he leans in deathly-close to me. But really, he was pretty chill and just wanted some donation money for the cats that they feed. Sure bro!
Salvation Mountain boasts a height of 50 feet and a breadth of 150 feet. That's probably just the mountain itself. Not the hogan or "museum." This art installation (as some call it) is massive. It's all built out of sticks, straw, adobe, and thousands of gallons of paint. It is truly impressive. The folk-art style and nature of it all is just very fun and fascinating.
I enjoyed winding through the museum portion, sticks and adobe.
Also a hogan, which had interesting little tokens and knick-kacks throughout.
Can you find the mark Ross left on the sign-in book? Also I love the postcard, "Universe closed, use rainbow."
Of course, the main attraction is Salvation Mountain itself. You can walk up the yellow brick road to the top of the monument- keep in mind that it is five-stories tall.
The view from the top.
Up at the top you can look down at what is known to be Slab City.
See all the little tiny dots out and about the landscape? Those are the residencies of Slab City.
How can I explain "The Slabs" without you falling down the internet rabbit hole? It starts with a decommissioned and dismantled naval training base. On top of those "slabs" a sort of campground was built. And that campground attracted squatters, drifters, hippies, snowbirds, and the like. Touted as "The Last Free Place," it's main draw is the ability to live off the grid. Some set up camp in tents and RVs while others settle in old naval bunkers, or just make their own shelter. It is reported that there are about 2,500 inhabitants between November and March, and 150-200 full-time residents. I can't blame them. Even when we went in May it was scorching hot.
Also, no water, sewer, trash, gas, electricity.
As said internet rabbit hole goes- I found another art installment, or rather evolving artist community called East Jesus. Are you as intrigued as I was? I didn't realize that this would take us on a few different (just cos we were lost) dirt roads through Slab City, so we could get up close and personal with the residents.
Eventually we wound our way to East Jesus. Not to be confused with West Satan. Definitely don't want to go there.
It's an interesting place. I think artists are allowed to stay there as long as they contribute to something for an hour a day. As you can imagine, things are constantly changing and evolving.
I must admit, before my visit to East Jesus, I had no idea that dolphins are LITERALLY BEHIND IT ALL. Stay educated folks. This world ain't what it used to be.
Seriously.
As we walked in a resident, in his own way, greeted us. Something like:
"Everything here is trash. You can't break anything- it's already broken. You can't steal or taken anything, because it doesn't belong to anyone. If you die or get injured on that see saw that's not our problem. You have been warned."
He asked us how we found this place. As I timidly answered "the internet" he shot back, "Yelp?" He continued to converse with me, peppered with kindly spoken expletives and ending in, "Can you go on Yelp and leave a bad review so people stop coming here?" I think I like this guy.
He was definitely right, it was all garbage. Cool garbage though.
Ross's favorite was this elephant man.
My favorite was this wall of tvs. I like how the chairs are staring at it.
Close-ups of some of my favorites. I think I am turning into a conspiracy theorist.
I mean... too aware of lies!
I also liked this wall of glass bottles. It's like the poor man's stained glass.
More desert.
On our way back we passed a border patrol station. And although I felt like I had been in a different country and a different time, I was pretty sure we hadn't crossed any legal borders.
And we hadn't. We were still about 50 miles north of the border. Nevertheless, an officer stopped us and in a very authoritative tone asked if we were both U.S. citizens, then let us drive on. This trip just keeps getting weirder and weirder.
We headed home since all of our stops were along the way. I really enjoyed the "texture" of these mountains.
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