Thursday, May 28, 2015

Pickin' Strawberries

This week I learned that the University has a sustainable garden project here on campus. Since all the students are gone, there are a ton of STRAWBERRIES just waiting to be picked.


Most of the produce from the gardens goes to campus dinning for use in the Commons, or to homeless shelters. 


The garden coordinator asked for employees to come pick strawberries. Pick a container for a homeless shelter and pick another to keep for yourself! At first I was thinking of just doing 2- and keeping one for us. But when we got there we saw tons of strawberries just rotting off the vine. We picked off all the bad strawberries so the new ones would get more nourishment. And then tried to pick only the ripest ones. Still- there were so many!


It was pretty hot so we didn't hang around for too long. But I learned that you can also rent garden plots for a season and I am definitely interested in that!

Saturday, May 16, 2015

Niland, CA

I have no blogging "rules." Which makes it totally fine that I wanted to break up the "Quirky Eccentric Desert Town Trip," into two posts. The post already had a ton of photos and in attempts to truly justify the er.. "eccentricity" of our next stop- I should write another post. I also wanted to give this post a plain title because Niland, CA is anything but expected and plain. Perhaps a proper title would be something like,

"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.


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.





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.


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.




Quirky Eccentric Desert Town Trip

This weekend was another one of those, "Ross get in the car we are going" weekends.
You look around on social media (even when you aren't trying) and see all these fantastical adventures people take "oOOoOo look at me and hubby!" "EeEEeee look and me and the pup!" and I sit and scratch my head about how people can accomplish such absolute feats as getting out of the house. Where does the car come from? Where does the money come from? Where does the time come from? Do these people have full time jobs with the horrible time-off accruals!?

And before I hyperventilate from the Spanish Inquisition I've conjured in my mind, I remember:

So much about life is making opportunities for yourself and taking risks -when you can. 

Which is so like me to make some wannabe deep and poetic statement with the world's biggest caveat at the end. Call it me, call it what med school has done to me. Having limited funds and no car keeps me pretty grounded. But when I have a full Saturday with a car and a travel buddy (oh yeah that husband guy), "gas money" tends to burn a hole in my pocket. The silver lining is that I have learned to stop waiting and start doing.

That doesn't mean I flew to Norway this weekend on that epic Travel Zoo deal. But I mean, when you learn the International Banana Museum is a mere hour and a half away- what's really stopping you?


Blink and you will miss it. Not the ice, bait, beer shop- next to it.



Signed- The Banagement.


The Museum boasts over 19,000 banana related items.


And the Guinness world record of largest collection devoted to any one fruit. Makes you wonder what the record is for any one vegetable.


Hopefully Cassie will forgive me. Hopefully she understands that it is just too much random and quirky for me to resist.


I really like the Michael Cera autographed photo on the bottom left. So much bananas! I got a chocolate covered banana and Ross got a chocolate banana shake. Delicious.


Next we were off to the wonder that is the Salton Sea.

Industrial Accident to Desert Oasis Resort to Polluted Ghost Town to Migratory Bird Habitat =
[Source]
As I learned about the area I dove head-first into researching the phenomenon. Here is my haphazard summary.


Back in the day (1950s) the Salton Sea was the place to be. The place sprung up with resorts and yacht harbors and vacation homes. Southern Californians would flock to the area for a weekend vacation. At one point they installed a 15-lane boat ramp in attempts to accommodate the crowds. It is reported that at one point the park had more visitors than Yosemite!

Definitely gasped at that.


Check out this cool video that does an awesome job of explaining the phenomenon and surrounding area.

Now, the Salton Sea is a bit of an eerie place. Pretty desolate. Pretty stinky. Though, I was prepared for the absolute worse, so I was actually a bit surprised.

WARNING DEAD FISH CARCASSES AHEAD.
Proceed with Caution!



Not to brag, but I've survived the Great Salt Lake, and that is beyond wretched.


The "sand" is actually crushed barnacles. And to be fair, probably a good amount of decomposing fish bones because the seaside is strewn with fish carcasses.



I think these tough mounds on the "sand" are dried up and hardened salt deposits.



There were actually some pretty cool pelicans out, so we had fun watching them preen, fly, and swoop down for fish.


Bird watching? Or creeper?

Next week were off to Bombay Beach, or rather, the ruins of Bombay Beach. "Fee Area" and "Hope you enjoyed your visit." Ha. Ha.



You know a place will be worth a visit if it's accolades include, "supposedly the most photographed abandoned trailer," by ghosttowns.com. Honestly the accolades probably stop there. In the 70's the area was plagued by a few floods that wiped out the area. The only thing more eerie than a portion of town decaying and half buried in mud is the portion of the town that is still... er... viable? Meaning, there are still people living/ squatting in trailers in that 10x10 block of town.



I had a weird fascination with the dilapidated mailboxes heavy with salty air and oxidation. But not so much that I wanted to stick around for the special event.

Bombay Beach is one of the lowest settlements in America, sitting at 223 feet below sea level, and marks the end of the San Andreas fault. So this sign seems very appropriate.



After our trip I found an article about Bombay Beach on Mental Floss. Really captures the essence of the area. Even better, you should really watch the video he made, the one I linked above, and here. And below. It has some footage from original promos for the Salton Sea. And also mentions our Next-Up adventure to Salvation Mountain as well.


I wanna know what Ross is thinking as he stares out to the sea. 


Ruins. Top center, looks like the "supposedly the most photographed abandoned trailer," has taken a turn for the worse(r/est). 


Venture out farther if you dare. 


But probably not the best idea. Ew. 


According to Anthony Bourdain this is a pretty great place to get a beer and hang out with the locals. 
"Lowest Bar in the Western Hemisphere." 


Before long we continued our journey south, A/C blasting, and digging into our stash of mad stacks of PB&J.


And most importantly, forsaking that worthless navigation because no one could direct us to where we were going next