It makes me think of that worship song "cause when we see you we find strength to face the day. In Your presence, all our fears are washed away." I miss that song. The church that Ive been going to only sings hymns and hipster music (not a complaint, just a statement) and I find myself missing all the songs I use to sing and at times wish could be done being killed. Ironic the things we miss when we didn't always want them!
On Monday evening I drove out to Joshua Tree National Park. I never realized how close it really is to San Diego. We drove through the dark desert searching for the campsite I had reserved. After Yosemite, they dared me to not make an itinerary.. I had one in my head but since I was sick until Sunday, I didn't actually have the energy to plan an itinerary so I decided I'd embrace the "just go with it" mentality. Ha. I am really not good at this. Sometimes I'm a little upset that I am not good at this and then other times when you're lost and being lectured by a park ranger in the heat of the desert, miles from your car the planning to a tee makes perfect sense!
So Joshua Tree is obviously nothing like Yosemite. It's desert. It's like the scenery you drive past to get to the river. It has its own version of vast as you look out and see rocky piles and meandering mini mountain ranges for miles and miles and miles. It also attracts a vastly different type of guest than Yosemite. Lots of rock climbers and lesbian hiking groups, very few families or kids. While I didn't dislike it, I didn't fall in love with it and was glad that we only planned to stay for a night and a day. Conveniently, National Parks are free on Federal Holidays, so I didn't even pay to get in.
I didn't double check anyone's work in our group as that is the opposite of just going with it. We slept in a pieced together tent that ultimately gave us an amazing view of the stars. The beautiful howls of the coyotes were far off in the distance. I forgot how much I love/hate tents. I am going to invest in one that is mine that is simple to put together and have a system for putting it away so I always have all its parts. I'm going to name it and love it. This tent though, I would have named Quasimodo had I spent more time with it. But after those good old desert winds picked up, it sounded like we were camping on the edge of an island in the middle of the Grand Canyon and we're going to be blown right off the edge in no time. With no cover for the tent, it blew around ferociously, hitting me in the face every once and a while and letting those winds wrap our bodies in coldness despite our best efforts to cuddle and be covered by all our clothes and all our blankets. I will probably never live down that I scoffed at Hannah for bringing a blanket bigger than all our gear put together and advised her to leave it in the car so we wouldn't have to carry it. In my defense, I had no idea we'd basically be sleeping outside with no protection from the wind. My bad. Alas, 5 hours later, completely unrested, we plugged on. I packed that tent up so fast, I was over it. We ate and refilled water and drove several miles to the west entrance. Where we got in for free and were warned to drive carefully so we don't hit-- not bears or deer-- so we don't hit TARANTULAS! Which sadly I didn't see at all. I'm always grateful to never ever encounter rattle snacks or rats, even if they are kangaroo rats. But I was really hoping we'd see or at least run over a tarantula. Maybe next time. We laughed at the various weird shaped of the joshua trees and admired their ability to survive such harsh conditions. We ooo-ed and ahh-ed at the "baby joshies" still so distinguishable from cacti or any other tree on the planet.
We laughed at the names of the landmarks like Oyster Bar and Hall of Horrors. At Hall of Horrors there actually was an old lady who tumbled down a few boulders, totally busted her leg and was rushed off as she lost quite a bit of blood.
We explored Ryan's Ranch Trail and Ryan's camp and the lost horse mine trail. We found the CA riding and hiking trail, the trail that we could have alternatively used to get there instead of driving. We searched and searched for Ryan's Mountain trail. Since I had no itinerary and hadn't done very much research I didn't actually know which mountain was Ryan's mountain, even when I was in Ryan's camp. Eventually a ranger drove by and my sweet kind friend decided to ask for directions where he scoffed at us and belittled our endeavors. "Often times you have to know where you are to get where you're going" he said in the snoottiest condescending tone followed by remarks of our ability to climb Ryan's Mountain. I swallowed my pride, thanked him for the directions and for the advice that was like a blow to the gut while I was down. I hate being lost. I cursed the moment I decided to not make a detailed plan of directions and events for our trip and I tried to not take the words from his overly-chapped lips too close to heart. And still his words lingered in my brain. They rang with truth for more than the trailhead and angered me at myself. I didn't know where I was. That could be said for a lot of things. I found the trailhead and powered up the first half mile keeping a pace that no one else enjoyed as I worked out my anxieties in my head and until my runny nose and sick lungs couldn't do it any longer. Then I decided to move past all my inner battles and enjoy my friends, our adventure, the first truly beautiful glimpses of desert scenery and my comfortable new adventure backpack that we named Quack VanTrail. We laughed about butts and how cold we were the night before. We mused over the many accents we had encountered. We laughed so hard when our friend asked us if she had dreamed she sang us "all about that bass" as a lullaby or if it had really happened- it was a reality:) and one of my most favorite memories so far!
We finally reached the top, it was pretty short, we took lots of pictures ate beef jerky and headed back down. Coming down is always fun. We had deep talks of learning to communicate our feelings and needs to the people around us, we talked about church and different types of people at church, we talked about where we did or did not fit in churches, we talked about the Rangers trapped lips, how hard it would be to hide behind a joshua tree to pee..we reached the car and journeyed on to Skull Rock and Jumbo Rocks and Chollas Gardens and down in to the 10 and home.
Despite my raging headache in the way home and the overwhelming awareness that we could only tune in to country music stations from Indio to Temecula, I still thought of the words of the ranger about knowing where I'm at to know where I'm going. He was rude, but it is true. It's still true for me. It brings to mind so many questions about what I am living for and who I do or do not share my life with and if there is in fact any point at all. Sometimes I am unsure and I could picture myself living on a mountain all alone. Other times, I walk into a preschool classroom and am greeted by a most loving group of children who take me as I am, wear me out and give me a snotty, messy hug before leaving. Oh to be like them!...in all their messiness,giving away their love without reserve or hesitation. To have faith and trust and hope in the people that come in and out of the room and to have to let them know it even if I'm suppose to be sitting quietly instead.I realize these analogies all jumbled together. I saw a pin earlier that said
"I am a blogger because I'm not a good rapper"
I embrace that sentiment. I suck at rhyming but here's my memories and heart and soul in a thousand plus words that may never hold value to anyone but me. And that's enough for right now. Beyond that, I leave myself to His divine mercies which are new each and every day.
&Here's some pictures too.
Until next time.
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