I am shocked and really awestruck to say these words: One year ago today I was crying and sitting in this very R.V. after leaving Roswell to go on the trip. (I started writing on the 13th.) Later we would stay at Magnolia R.V. Park in Clinton, SC, to see my Mom's college. That is talked about in "Leaving and the First Day" my very first blog post. Wow, it has been such an awesome year and it's been hard to remember all the crazily fantastic things that we have accomplished and done in this excursion around the nation. I've been in silver rainbows, planes floating in the sky, helicopters, boats, giant bubbles, and have seen the weirdest things, giant bunnies on the side of the road, dead Moose also on the side of the road, and a man with an Afro and electric guitar on roller skates. One of the only things I haven't done would probably be rollerskating itself, but we have gone down really twisty streets and houses with stuffed animals and surf boards lodged to them. Our nation is truly full of just down right crazy stuff, and it's for you, reader, to go explore this quirky country, this crazy continent, this wonderful world. I didn't think I would enjoy this when I started last year today, but it's been stellar. You can't even imagine it unless you do it.
1. I got a book called Hondo by Louis L'amour, planning to try out his writing style for free, and I vowed to give many books away at the next R.V. park or the one after that with a German book. Dad said it was okay I did not exchange another book, but I still felt bad about it.
2. At the La Quinta I peed in an Office Depot where there was two markings on the stall that said, "Whoever is reading this is g@y..."
"Whoever wrote that is g@y"
Neither of you are g@y!
3. We saw someone's RV lot before going to the Salton Sea and all that.
4. Rebecca and I on one day, forget which one, went and by all the stuff behind the clubhouse with small bridges over fake streams and golf stuff, where a man asked us all about our life and was kind of creepy but looked really nice. We got on our bikes and rode away.
5. We went into the office where there was a lady named Gay who helped us select a dog walker for touring, on one day, and there wasn't a good one nor one available so we just tried to come home early.
6. We went to a car wash with a cool shopping area and nice seating, and Rebecca and I were left with no book as Dad looked at the people washing our car to see if they stole anything. I looked at a cool book of homes and bookshelves when we sat down, and took a few pictures of these really cool designs, beneath nooks and crannies, all that.
So let's get away from unimportant details and get to the blog post of what occurred on Tuesday the 6th. That yesterday we had attempted to go to Joshua Tree National Park, but alas it did not work. Our time at this wonderful resort in the Palm Springs area had been varied, with a repair man named Brian coming and fixing problems in our R.V. We just relaxed, in the pool and with football, and we also went on a hot air balloon and saw a salt sea, a mountain of salvation, and a city of slabs. See blog post called SSS for details.
This was to be our last day. But, besides getting ready and taking a last ceremonial walk around the park (you can get details about other walks from other blog posts past) with seeing Tom, who gave us his card and hoped we would have a good time. I was equipped with my video camera to see this large and famous park, and also with my book to help me pass the time. We, with lots of water, set off on the interstate to the right to Tree after leaving the middle and south of Cali, where our R.V. was. I wondered why the park was named that, after some tree named after Joshua, someone in the past who was a leader of pioneers or people in California? I'd ask someone when we got there. The surroundings, as we rode along, were hardly varied. It was a grey road, occasionally a town and gas stations, and brown jagged sheer mountains around us, with a grey scene below of desert dust and sometimes cacti in a bunch. I was really done with this environment, after four states of all this bareness (Texas, New Mexico, Arizona, and now CA). It seemed that we would have to bear the desert for a little longer, and maybe there were forests again. As we etched closer to Joshua Tree, I read about a shrewd old Celticneaderthral that was supposed to make a temple to the Gods, and about him getting the chunks of stone (even though everyone ridiculed him because wood was better) from rivers and the Wild Woman liking him. It was detailed, and the descriptions of the wilderness and the crispness of the writing was unequaled. It was a different kind of story, especially long also, and did have it's lengthy moments, but it there was some sort of element that separated it from all other levels of fiction and literature.
He made... oh I'll get to that later.
We had entered the very desolate side of Joshua Tree, not the side with the town actually named Joshua Treeville or something like that. I'll call Joshua Tree National Park JT from now on. Okay?
But before we were to go to this park everyone talked about, we had to see something Dad had seen online that morning, and I was excited to see the Civil War general's museum as we stopped at the small flat building with wooden platform and portable potty, and small rusty pavilion. It didn't show much to us, and wasn't what you would call a Smithsonian if you ask me. Mom wasn't interested in war heroes or anything, and Rebecca couldn't care less, so she read about the yucca which was the primary plant in JT, while Mom checked emails, talked to people on the phone... and... although she doesn't like me saying this...checked FaceBook. Sorry Mom but it is the facts and they must be known to the readers on the blogosphere. No allowance for a month?! Aww man!
But anyway, Dad and I walked up there, wondering if this would be okay. The wooden door, with posters and pamphlets galore, led to the museum. There was one square room, with a small shelf and some books of Patton. Unlike many Civil War generals, he was clean-shaven and it looked like a photo. Huh. He must of lived til the 1880's when the camera was invented. Anyway, there on the right side and hugging the entrance wall was a counter and a man with some desks behind, who was very nice to us. The rest of the room was full of panels about stuff I didn't look at. There was also a 3d map of the mountains and flat desert land, where Patton trained U.S. troops(wait they hadn't settled here in the Civil War) to fight in Northern Africa against the Italians. (Ummm, wait... hello, we didn't fight the Italians in Africa in The Civil War... but we did in WWII.) I was very confused, and confirmed with the man that Patton was a general in WWII. Without knowing it, I had confused the man with another general in the battle of Gettysburg, Mead, who the lake that is the reservoir of the Hoover Dam. It was a funny blunder on my part. Although, I was mistaken once more. People who are educated in the history of the dam will note that Mead was actually named after U.S. Commission of the Bureau (such an odd word) of Reclamation, Elwood Mead, who planned the lake and dam to be formed. So uhh now you know.
The price for this "museum" was $5 dollars each person, which wasn't much at all considering past museums, like $20 PER PERSON. We turned right after thanking him and then looked at the mass of artifacts, guns in cases, all kinds of old guns, and old army helmets, posters, and tools. There was all kinds of stuff from WWII. We fished around a bit, looked at the stuff in this one room museum, and saw different tank parts and machinery that were all part of the campaign. No greatly fonted panels, or any real form of flow in the writing... it just all talked about stuff from WWII. I learned that Patton liked fencing, and saw a mask, and also nurse stuff that was at the end of a long row of WWII guns. Tommy guns, German automatic pistols with the flat top and the square frame, and even harpoon guns. So really what was this museum besides WWII collectibles? It was called the Patton Museum but was that just because he had trained troops here and it had a little bit of artifacts about him. We looked around and I asked Dad questions about the time period and the guns that they used. It seriously was a World War, you know, with it being fought in the Pacific, and in the Middle East, and in Europe. Oh and Asia. It cost millions of people their lives and millions of dollars to be lost. Probably the bloodiest war in the world.
Well, after looking at some posters, we sat at some benches where a projector, fairly large, did a fuzzy and old video about Patton's life, and that area of the war in general. His ancestors had all been in the major wars of America previously and he wanted to be a hero when he grew up too, like many kids that age, but unlike many he would actually achieve it. He went to a military institute in Virginia after moving from his native CA(close to where we were then) and he then went to West Point where he dated his future wife named Beatrice Ayer. That's an interesting name. He was on their team in the Olympics, the Penthlon. He had really good fencing abilities, and we watched the movie showing pictures of him fencing, although he picked a .38 in shooting which didn't help him at all. After Olympics he became a swordsman at another school in Kansas. I wish I could fence. I like doing it with my own little sticks and fake swords, and I'm actually okay at it, twirling and all. Anyway, after that he went under Pershing in Mexico, and did several campaigns there. It showed some raw footage of the famous British general who after their times tracking men down and securing forts, made him a captain.
The rest talked about his success as a general and him training them in CA down here. Then his campaigns in North Africa. They interviewed old people who had trained under the general, and they said that he was stern and demanded a lot of you, but why they liked him was that he was a common man, talked like they did, walked like they did, and did like they did, without pretending he was superior or a big "I'm so great" air. Like he said one time, "I'm not there to make you die for your country; I'm here to make others die for their country."
Dad and I chuckled at this candid remark.
Patton was also controversial because in a hospital of the wounded he was visiting, he saw a boy who had no injuries whatsoever and said to him in a fierce voice why wasn't he out there fighting for his county. The boy cried before Patton looked him straight in the eye and slapped him right in the face. At that day and age they didn't know about PDSD. Post Dramatic Stress Disorder. It is a very sad thing, PDSD IS. And Patton's image was smeared, as the video said, as more and more people criticized him for his tough decisions and controversial measures. But he was a sincere man, a great leader, and led wonderful actions in battle that probably the war wouldn't of won without him. After the movie finished, we stood up and looked at the last few things. We didn't stay long. It had little to no captions, just small papers with stuff on it. The movie was alright, but it was out dated and a little boring. All the museum was was really just collected WWII artifacts, and there at the end were a few panels talking about Korea and Vietnam, all the stats of the wars, and Iran too. There were actual pictures here and the death total and some of the major campaigns. We made a full circle from the left down to the right to the right wall and down to the other end, and then to the middle to watch the movie. And we ended in the left corner of the far end with some funny cartoons and a biographical sketch of him. This was actually the only museum like part with glass cards and panel design. Well I think it's time to leave.
Dad got a few books of quotes and biography, probably because the museum didn't show him that much. It might of been worth the money to see WWII stuff, but honestly it was a fairly poor and sore museum. Outside, we told Mom and Rebecca about it, who didn't miss much, and then drove away to Joshua Tree National Park. I put the bags in the middle and resumed my book. And we resumed our journey.
The sign was very large and nice, black lettering and behind a rock orangish color which I liked. We slid into the park then. Not far from the entrance, we saw a Visitor's Center. I like how all of the NPS (National Park Service) visitor center's have their own unique architecture; it really makes them stand apart. This one had another black and orange sign, and white rock that had some wood and crosspatch terrace before going in. We parked and walked to the right of this area with bathrooms into a door, and the visitor center was actually a poor one also. It wasn't that it was small, but it had no museum! On the right a few panels with a gift shop and a children's area that was small and in the middle, with bookshelves, and on the left a long counter where employees answered questions. It was basically a large shop. We fished around the souvenirs and tees and books, but I saw nothing that rubbed me back, blew me horn, lowered me anchor. What am meself, a doggone pirate, aye? I got to stop talking like this.
Anyway, I asked them where the name of the park was conceived, and they said that it is legend that Mormon pioneers passing through Southern CA thought that the yuccas looked like Joshua, from the Bible, leading them to the promised land. You know that Moses, although the great remembered prophet, did not lead the Hebrews into Cannan, but his successor, Joshua, did conquer all the different gentiles around there and the whole Jericho thing. I think that J is probably the most used capitol letter in a name or place, for instance :Judah, Jerusalem, Jehu, Jehoshaphat, Jesse, Joshua, Jericho, Jeroham, Jezebel, Jehovah, Jesus, Judas, Jude, James, John, John Mark, the list could go on and on. Seriously it is used a lot!
But BACK TO THE BLOG!!!
Spencer: Dang your weird.
Be quiet. Okay, so Mom got a shirt, purple and it was a tee, talking about Joshua Tree. Dad and Mom had shopped that day, and for once I didn't get books, which I guess was a good thing. However, I did fish around in that kids area, and espied myself a book which I had actually been searching for: The Lorax... which the park had sponsored as it's message and trademark, because the yucca looks like Dr Suess's trees in his books. Why did I want to read it? Well, in the month of March they had made a cartoon production of the book and we had figured we would see it, and so I wanted to read the book once more before my eyes took sight of it in the theater. I sat down, as the parents left and sat in the car, and then Rebecca, after purchasing some stuffed animals, read it with me. His characters look funny, the painted colors funny, and the hilarious rhyming of the stories that our friend from Springfield, MA (we've been to a statue garden and exhibit about the man who stayed there) made. The story was funny, but very sad and creepy as the Lorax told the little boy with the coin his story. It was sad, of that guy making all the jackets with the funny names because people needing them, and taking down all of the trees with his factory and family, until their was none left. Oops, I ruined the story for you. But anyway, the Lorax came out of a trunk and tried to tell them not to do it, to little avail. It was a sad story but had an inspiring motive of it to converse trees and the environment.
We got in the car and drove off now to explore the place all these people had been talking about. We had left at 9 and it was already noon, so we would probably spend about an hour exploring and then take the rest of our time to drive back home, where we would spend an evening either driving around or just chilling, the last time we'd do it before leaving in the morning to Victorville. But let's get to the details of that now! The wind broke into a larger swept, as it had been going fairly well earlier and now got a little more windy. We even saw a tumbleweed,which was cool. On the side of the road, there was the trademark of JT, the green yuccas. Let me describe this tree. It has hard rough bark, fairly thin, with large branches and on the ends of those trees, green prickly circles that glisten like crystals in the sunlight, and the poky sticks looked very menacing. They dotted the sides, farther back, virtually everywhere, and when I was done with the park I would get tired of the yuccas. Little ones, big ones, twisted ones, all in a mass of brown bark and green spiky leaves as far as they eye could see. It really was like something out of a Doctor Seuss book. Who would've known his figment imaginations were really true?
Giraffes like coffee, soccer from Iran, silk cotton is in my toenail!
I love you mountain snow, you cherish my every giant P&J combo mix I fed to you,now for my radio expense rate!
Okay, in all seriousness, I'm going back to the blog bow. It's just I'm fairly tired and getting looooppppyy... yawn. I'm starting this in the morning.
It's the morning now.
They were twisted and sprawling, and around these small and large trees that were virtually everywhere, was a silky sand, light and airy, and also shrub growing by it. A little bit of cacti in a bunch again, and then a lot more of sand and dirt, flavored with the brown mountains in the distance, a classic look and approach to the old west, capturing the grisliness of the scene, the greyness also. But then you had the trees, menacing as the cactus also in the West, but at the same time happy and bright green. Still more lightens up the brown and beige of the desert, a blue expanse of sky, ever large and bright blue and never changing. For a little while we captured these trees on tape and camera, still marveled at these plant's uniqueness. After a while though, their prickly perfectness wore off, and the views were somewhat repetitive. However, I did not take to my book, however, heeding Tom's advice at sometimes just looking around and seeing the sights. As repetitive as it was, they were still really unusual. I had never seen a tree like it, and the weirdness was repeated as I rolled down my dust coated window and looked in HD, as you could say, at the tons and tons going back on either side, little shrub and sagebrush in between, such a desert tree!
The repetition was then lost as something else emerged into view. It was tons of flat and bumpy beige rocks, all in a giant stack and bumple, with some coming off and tramping on littler ones, in cool forms of balancing and staying together like cairns, probably how the stones were like when the Shrewd Celtic got them for the temple. It was really enormous and unlike anything I had seen, all those rocks in a stack like that. They were huge, and soared high to the sky, with their little shaded areas with two rocks on one side making an air space for anybody passing down. They were large and we got closer and closer to them, crossing the ONE stream we would see in this desert national park, on our left with some picnic tables. We drove around the mass of rock, just waiting for it to fall down on us. It was really awesome with all the stacked up sediment, balancing so perfectly that you just have to think if it was altered to one millimeter or one rock, they would all come crashing down. However, geologic forces have made erosion irrational and only the little one's fall. Still though, it did look foreboding. We got out of our jeep, daring the rapidly increasing wind, and then stood on top of a few rocks, claiming footwork and then being on the grass. Rebecca and I did argue though about who got a number of pictures where, and I went down in a small break in the rock which was shady while she smiled fakingly and put her hands on her hips to the camera. If you've seen those pictures you know it's something to laugh about.
Alright very well so (that's from an Irish professor in the book Ireland), we went on and saw some more about what they called "Jumbo Rocks." We even stood on the great feats of geologic forces. After a few minutes of that, looking up at these colossal giants, we ended the great yuccas and once more studied the brown mountains around the region. We were actually, as grand as it may seem(although it only counts for the mountains and the tons of yuccas, not the main road) , at the end of Joshua Tree National Park. We went down a few lasts dips in the road, and thereafter sheerly emerged down a hill after going through a tollbooth. Right at about that time, we saw one of the most crazy sights of the day. It was beige, khaki colored, and consisted of a giant dust storm that stretched over the whole essence of the town we had just seen. Wind violently battered the sides of our metal jeep by the tool and then as we went down also, the soft top increasing to the amount of noise. We had parked and I had bookmarked my book and cautiously gotten out, going to a nice building restroom on the left side of the road. And oh did that hurt. Particles of dust bombarded my open knees and arms, blinding my vision as I ran behind the safety of that wall, the wind blowing me right, left, forward, all in a confusion of beige and human skin tone. I went in the bad smelling restroom and then took a breath as I braved it again.
It became worse this time. It swarmed all around me, and I couldn't find the jeep as the shocking power of the wind swelled up my hair in one motion, crashing the bangs this way and that. I had sworn not to take a haircut until we got out of CA, but I was regretting that right now. I had to lodge my feet into the ground to get in, and it took ages to open the door when I had gotten at the car's side. Dust slapped my butt, as Rebecca leaned to open it, and then, as pale as a vampire, told her not too. If it open it'd either tear right off or smash my teeth out. At some point I opened it again, and then, with both hands sweating and sadly the dirt flowing on my book as it swished in, I shut it with several mighty heaves, and then panted inside. I said a witty remark and thereafter sighed and drank some water, wiping the dust and sand from my brow and eyes. It really hurt, like bullets from Iwa Jima. It was the craziest part of the day, and when I woke up that morning Ia never though I would experience it. We drifted toward the town, also named Joshua Tree, after spending a good time at the okay visitor center and then going through the park. My favorite part was the jumbo rocks.
The small place was a little brick main street, and boarded up beige wooden bars and gambling places, stuff like that. Right about at the entrance to this odd town, we saw a cafe that looked nice and had see-through windows on a high surface, and also had an outdoor patio area with umbrellas. This was with a staircase coming up on the right, joined with a wooden building that was scraped off and had seen better days, and had a long sign about something with the park's visitor center. However, we went into the line of souvenir shops, thinking we could find something better, before returning to the cafe. We parked towards the right wall in a broad alleyway, and I slid my book in the pouch on the back of Mom's seat all the way to the left before leaving. It did move my bookmark quite a bit as I pulled my hoody over, and took a handkerchief and tied it around my mouth and nose. I at least had some form of protection. It took ages to close the door, as I was pelted with dirt and dust. I finally heaved it in and then ran to the cafe, but I found myself being pushed back, crazily, and the swirls of red and orange dust crowded around me like a subway. I ran up the stairs, now under the shelter of a roof, and then sighed when you had to go around the left side of the cafe. I went in, glad I hadn't brought my book in all that mess.
It was like a normal cafe. There was a square counter with one side, a right side, and then the left side of it being the wall. In here were pre-made sandwiches, and ice cream and stuff. A black haired woman, young and slender who we would later know as Destiny (but I think it's pronounced differently) seated us at a circle table. To our behind in a cut out was a swing door to the restaurant, and that was directly parallel to the counter where Destiny was at. Such a pretty name.
We looked around at the weird paintings and abstract pieces before ordering. I had to give it to Destiny, giving people seats and then taking orders, and later giving them their food. It was like she did everything and she was the only one working there. And I believe, she was. A guy had gone out on his lunch break and left her alone, the cook did, and she was very good on her own in getting me that great chicken club sandwich or BLT, I forget which one I got. Rebecca, mac'n'cheese, and Mom a salad with Dad something unexpected. I think it was a bowl of soup. Well, after being served the satisfactory meal, Rebecca and I went past the counter into a door, swinging, that was also the bathrooms. We had had a great time at Patton's, the park, and this lunch all combined. It was a good and scenic day. But, I am not done yet. Past the bathrooms was yet another swing door. And behind it? A little gift shop on both sides and then kind of to the right a counter with three sides, and beige trim with nice park employees, even outside of the park. This was the visitor center with the rows of merchandise, and in the far corner a bit of the museum! I looked at stuff in the gift shop and then went to the museum, but it was all clear panels about wildlife and places in the park to go. Rebecca and I would pass back and forth between here a lot, bored out of our minds.
We did leave though and said goodbye to our faithful and dutiful waitress. And then, the cafe blew up. Oh no, Spencer didn't activate a bomb, but it just blew up, the dust did, hiding our view. So we quickly got back in the car, battered and bomboozaled by all this dust and sand and dirt. We slid out of that town fast, and then took pictures as we turned left on a loop back home on the freeway. Dust still hit and hit and hit.
Back at the R.V., we savored one night in and relaxed by playing football and sitting in our site, and then walking. We had had the best time in Palm S... well I'll get to that in the next blog post.
That was a fun and awesome day. Goodbye for now.
Patton: "Men, the Italians in North Africa are slimy and poky people. So what I want you to do is shoot these yuccas! Ready, aim, fire! (pause) I said fire! FIRE!"
Soldier: "But sir, there already is fire. Because of the dry climate and hot temperatures and you smoking all the trees are on fire. The Italians are already beaten!" ,
Andrew.
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| These are Joshua Trees |
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