04/20/04 continued

Parties & People

 

This was the year of parties, 7 for me, nature/photo outings and a play. The word "parties" is overstating it; more like get-togethers. Six of them included Ron & Lauren Bastrup, her mother Elaine, their young adult sons Eric and Scott, usually a few friends of theirs, Eileen and/or I, Bill Bolster, and lots of dogs. Generally they involve everybody sitting around a fire outdoors or a wide-screen video inside enjoying light conversation, beer for some and wine for others, chips and good food until late into the evening when the visitors wander off into the night and go home.

 

(Note: the round clear spots that you see on some shots are not bubbles or Christmas ornaments. They are the camera's flash reflecting off of dust particles in the air.)

 

Bill's party, #3, down under the trees between his cabins, also included our new neighbors who are building, Rick & Carol Hiestand with a son and girlfriend; Charlotte & Zan, daughter & friend who have the horse ranch down below; and Sarah Munro, our next door neighbor, a journalist for the local paper.

 

I generally don't, or can't, really get into talking about people but I'm going to try it here at the risk of upsetting them. I almost unintentionally get into a mild and dry sense of humor such that many people don't even know it is humor. I have often gotten into trouble because some people took what I was saying seriously; they didn't know I was joking. Part of that mannerism involved keeping a very straight face. I have since learned that I need to throw in a slight grin now and then. So keep that in mind as I speak of our “local color”, a distinguished group of questionable individuals to which Ron says I do not belong because I am in reality only a “snow bird”.

 

This brings in another characteristic that I have noticed about myself. For much of my life, I did not like to photograph people. They usually came out as lousy shots. Objects, nature, dogs - no problem. Now I like to get some good shots of the people involved - many shots, if possible, so that I may end up with a good one. If I don't end up with shots of the various peopled involved, then I definitely get a strong sense that the whole story I'm trying to tell is incomplete. I am not very experienced at this. I try to take my camera with me wherever I go, 24/7, but then too often I completely forget to take pictures while something interesting is going on. I also feel like I am imposing and that the subjects are becoming very annoyed with me and my camera, and I do not want to annoy anybody at all ever. So, effectively, I just have to ignore that and take the damn pictures, knowing also that in most cases people do like to have their picture taken. To minimize annoyance, I am inclined to try and get unobtrusive candid shots, and yet I find that people like to know the camera is there and appreciate a chance to pose to some degree.

 

Robert & Hilde

 

On my final evening in Joshua Tree, I was invited to dinner by Robert & Hilde Fonda, renting Tom Atherton's place next door. They have two very big but quiet dogs, Rottweiler and Shepard mixes, named Agnes & Jake. Robert is full of enthusiasm for whatever is going on and is prepared to rip the shirt off his back to help anybody in need. Professionally he is a software engineer just as I was (though in a different age) and travels down into LA to work with his clients. They are both climbers and are on the National Park's volunteer SARS rescue team and I have seen them depart on missions to return late at night exhausted but successful.

 

Robert's grandfather was a New England Mayflower Howe and owned a 34 room house and waterfront acreage in Dennis where Robert spent summers during his youth, not far from our Cape home. Hilde is Norwegian and has traveled the world climbing mountains, even up to Nepal. She is the calm peaceful one who speaks softly. She is also undergoing therapy for cancer. Where Robert is constantly on the move getting things done, Hilde remains at ease and keeps their world grounded, making sense of it all. They both enjoy life and are fun to be with.

 

It was real nice visiting with them, casually laid back in comfortable canvas armchairs on the shaded deck in back by the quietly trickling stream and fish pond. Robert cooked the burgers on a barbecue as we discussed world events, Cape Cod, computer programming, Joshua Tree, rock climbing and other interesting subjects – however, he would tend to forget about the burgers. He apologized a couple of times during dinner so I told him not to worry about it; I could use them as chips in my rock walls. Hilde put together a big salad with her own home-made dressing and it was delicious.

 

Bill

 

Eileen & I and Bill tend to be somewhat monastic, maybe not Eileen so much, but especially Bill - I tend to see him as something of a monk without a religion, also an inventor, a daredevil - all done quietly; he doesn't say much. If you left it up to me or Bill, nobody would see much of us if they didn't happen to wander by at the right moment. I love the visits of neighbors and friends, as I suspect Bill does, but each of us is busy and focused on what we are busy at. Bill is currently building an elaborate 30 foot aluminum pole assembly that will adjust, turn and flip into various configurations, hopefully not when he is on it. Its ultimate purpose is to support a wind turbine to generate electricity. He also recently completed an iron contraption for attaching to his ATV that can pick up rocks and carry them to the steel trailer he built. This so he can build rock privacy walls near the pool he is preparing to dig and install. He has a large stockpile of naturally green, almost translucent, rock slabs that will line the pool.

 

Bill has an amazing collection of equipment and modes of transport. He has machines in his garage for almost any purpose. I recently took a heavy triangular chunk of steel down to his place that needed cutting. It was to be attached to a heavily reinforced section of the framing under the deck to provide support for the house trailer's tongue. However, it was too long due to a boulder sitting immediately below that section. Bill clamped it into a machine I had never seen before, turned it on and gently dropped its moving band of fine teeth down onto the chunk of steel - and walked away from it. A little while later the excess piece of steel fell to the floor and he shut the machine off.

 

 

While this was going on, he was making small steel steps for clamping and welding to his pole, so that he would be able to climb the pole as needed.

 

While this was going on, Ron was at the workbench rebuilding a disc brake from his son's Mercedes, Bill's clamp being perfect for holding the steel disk unit as Ron torqued (tightened) the bolts to a very exact specification.

However, they were having trouble figuring out what that specification should be - the specs in the Harley manual didn't seem right. I don't know cars. Ron & Bill do, even after a few beers, so I stayed out of it. Ron finally went home and got the manual for the Mercedes, and they seemed to be happy with the specs in that book.

 

That long chest high work bench in itself is a solid polished oak masterpiece of craftsmanship that Bill created back in his woodworking days, according to Ron. I'm not exaggerating; it is beautiful, and perfect.

 

As to transport, Bill probably won't have to worry about a battery going dead if he needs to run into town for milk. Aside from his standard variety enclosed pickup, he has a long beautiful dark purple Harley that he bought a year ago parked in his garage that looks like it has never been ridden. I've mentioned his ATV, but he also has a small front-loader that looks kind of like a modified forklift but instead of a fork it has a scoop type shovel. He bought this used on eBay a year ago so that he can lift the rocks up onto the wall he plans to build.

 

He can be seen riding around the neighborhood on any one of these machines occasionally - or flying overhead in his plane. He likes to hop the ridges on my hill. Though Ron refuses to fly with him, he has asked Bill to leave him the plane in his will. So I am asking Ron how long he thinks it will take him to extract the plane from my hill, with a minimum of disturbance to the terrain. I think that plane is going to be mine, by default, as salvage rights may apply here.

 

Bill has to be watched though. A week or so before I departed, I was driving through town when I saw his Harley parked outside the Park Rock Cafe on Park Blvd, the road to the Park (really), so I pulled over and nearly knocked the bike over because people don't see bikes and I am people. I found Bill sitting outside at a shaded table calmly eating a large sandwich, so I went into the gourmet cafe, bought a carrot cake and joined him. I mentioned the trouble with his bike, thinking he might want to know. In turn, he said that just for that, after I leave he is going to drive his machines onto my land and help himself to all the rocks that he can use. Being pretty much a flat-lander, he has even offered to buy my rocks and I have had to be increasingly firm with him that they are not for sale. I told him that I KNOW all of my rocks and if any of them disappear, I'll know where to find them. In fact, since he is known to be a rabid Hestonite (Ron is too), I won't give him a chance to shoot me, but I'll get my rocks back and maybe a few more besides. I hope he builds his wall with mine on the bottom.

 

Early in April, Bill drove by my place on his ATV with three cute smiling kids crowded onto the seat between him and the handlebars. They waved and continued on around the bend and out of sight. Then again and again, each individually, and then with an attractive woman on the seat with him, and then the next morning with all 3 kids again. This was fascinating; it is not something you often see. Ron and I have often speculated over the women in Bill's life and Bill has mentioned that he enjoys their company as long as they don't talk much. You hear about them now and then but I have never actually seen one.

 

Well now, here was a whole family and he certainly looked like a proud loving husband and father. I deduced that this could be a Rent-a-Family (you can get nearly anything in CA), but he later said that this was his cousin and her children. I thought that was a rather unoriginal explanation. Then he volunteered that they spent the night in one of the cabins he has down the way. Since Bill is not one to give explanations, I was immediately reminded of Shakespeare's quote: "He doth seem to protest too much." (or something like that).

 

Ron & Lauren

 

Ron & Lauren are the ones that bring everybody together and get things going. Well, Lauren is; Ron does as he is told. They are school teachers so it comes naturally to them. They saw that I was taken care of by having me to dinner once before Eileen arrived and twice after she left. Those meals were big and they were good. The final one was for Easter, so I brought along a big Walmart basket of candy and coloring books.

(It was either that or a Barbie doll kit.)

 

They also came and got me when they went off on two of their outings. One was up to an area I had been very curious about - up and behind the ridge on the opposite side of our valley. There is a long dirt road, La Contenta, that loops out and around and up. The area is actually part of the Joshua Tree National Park but without a gate and no fee or pass required. As we climbed in their old Chevy wagon, it was fascinating to see how much the terrain and vegetation changed, though of course much stayed the same. There were plenty of Cedar trees mixed in with the Joshua Trees and others. Near the top, we parked in the established lot above the Covington Flats area and then followed well worn paths on foot along ridge lines and up to the top of the highest hill which was called "Eureka Peak". The view was breath-taking. You could see much of our Joshua Tree valley (though not our homes) off to the right, Yucca Valley to the left and Palm Springs way down the mountain behind us. It was hazy; not a real clear day, but there was still a magnificence about it that kind of catches you by surprise.

 

 

The elevation of that peak is 5516 feet. Compare that to the peak of my hill which is 3866 feet, a difference of 1650 feet. The base of my hill where the trailer sits is at about 3200 feet. It was not too cold or windy up there though you could see some snow-caps in the distance.

 

I would have liked to explore the ridge that overlooks our valley though we did suspect that it might be quite a hike from the road with a few more ridges in-between. That will be another hike someday when time and energy permit. A part of that ridge is fenced off by a private artist's community that had established itself decades ago. Back at the peak, through binoculars, you can see that there is a significant house there, though I couldn't really make out any details.

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Another time we climbed into their VW Thing (that is the model name and appropriate) and drove up into the Park through the official gate and a couple of miles in until we came to a vast spread of beautiful wild flowers near Hidden Valley. Nobody planted these; this was mother nature doing her thing. They had brought along a pair of sophisticated 35 MM cameras and went to work with those as I wandered around with my digital camera. I saw their shots after they were developed and they were beautiful. Ron is thinking about putting together a calendar with those shots that can be distributed through local retailers.




For an informative and interesting article about how to do the park in your camper or otherwise, read RV Camping in Joshua Tree National Park.

Also, for a more recent equally fascinating and all-encompassing read about everything JTNP: The Joshua Tree National Park Travel Guide.
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Ron and Lauren have a nice good sized single story home with all the amenities that they designed and had built on land that they had purchased some time ago. It includes a four car garage which is not big enough for Ron's vehicular passions. The house is populated inside and out with artifacts, sculptures and paintings, etc. that they have accumulated in their travels around the western part of the continent, many from abandoned mining areas. To walk slowly around their place is like exploring an eclectic and fascinating museum.

 

The floor is a cool green polyurethane coated concrete which lends itself to a variety of animals and the numerous young people that travel between Scott and Eric's rooms and the kitchen. Their dog Max is a favorite of mine. He always has a friendly greeting for me whenever we come across each other. His older companion, Pearl, died a year ago of old age. Now they have a new puppy named Wookie, an Aussi Sheep Herder and a brother of Bill's Tillie, though one litter younger.

 

Their sons and some of their friends are some of the nicest guys you could want to meet, intelligent, mature and respectful. Eric has been attending Copper Mountain College near JT, and is about to leave for Cal Poly, the State University in Pomona, to study veterinarian science. Scott is still in high school with one year to go and no real plans for the future though he will probably go to college.

 

In the fenced enclosure out back, they have an Iguana lizard and 11 Desert Tortoises that they have rescued from the roads. In fact, they live on Turtle Road which has become something of a major thoroughfare. The tortoises have their own shallow pool and a low 6 foot fiberglass tunnel that they can hide under. Tortoises are reclusive by nature but they move fast when Lauren brings them their pile of lettuce which she buys daily. Now and then the Iguana climbs the fence but Eric seems to know where to find him out in the neighboring shrub.

 

Wild Animals

 

I came across a tortoise on one of the roads approaching my place. I had left my car for servicing at Action Auto in town and Dana, of Dana & Scott the owners, gave me a ride home to retrieve me later in the day. It was Dana & I that discovered this 8" tortoise crossing the dirt road approaching Bill's corner. I picked her up and set her on Bill's property where she continued on. Later, Bill mentioned that he had seen her passing by. (I asked)

 

By the way I do have a number of lizards myself, in fact 3 different kinds. One guy, whom I think you've seen pictures of in previous years because he likes to pose, now seems to have a mate. I had seen them around separately now and then, but I discovered them together when I went up to work on the road one day. They allowed me to take their picture once, then she split, though he continued to stand there and keep his eye on me. I believe they are Chuckwallas.

 

I also have toads – two kinds: a horned toad and a regular toad. The latter looks exactly like those back east except that he has orange dots speckling his hide.

 

 

Climbing The Hill

 

Eileen, Molly and I climbed the hill one morning. It took about an hour and a half to reach the peak, approximately 660 feet up according to a topographical map. Well, I reached the peak. Eileen & Molly stopped about 15 feet short refusing to climb another inch.

 

Here we were into our third visit to Joshua Tree and we had not yet climbed the hill. One reason I had not done this before was because I had been waiting until I could get a couple of insulated quart size water bottles designed to hang from your belt and a backpack into which would go an emergency medical kit, snake bite kit, a couple of ropes, granola bars and anything else we might need. The idea is that hands and feet must be entirely free at all times, but you still carry along everything you could possibly need, just in case. Well, somehow that never happened.

 

I tried to remember what I carried with me back in my 20's when I climbed up there rather frequently. I don't think I carried anything except my camera – not even water, so it could be done without all the necessary supplies. What was really significant this morning, perhaps the most important factor, was that it was not cold & windy and it was not hot and the sun was behind a heavy overcast that looked like it would stick around awhile, so I said, “Why don't we just go on up there”. Eileen said, “Sure”. It was later, about half way up, that I discovered that she didn't realize I meant all the way.

 

I wore a white jacket so it could be seen in case of emergency. I brought along the cell phone, spare battery, camera, a gallon milk jug full of water and a small plastic applesauce cup that Molly could drink out of. The jug was certainly better then nothing but it was too thin skinned, springing a leak when it scraped against a rock. Fortunately it was a pinhole but it meant having to carry the bottle sideways with the hole up. Eileen also brought along a squirt-in-mouth bottle of water but that didn't last long because she kept squirting it in Molly's mouth.

 

I was so preoccupied with making sure I had everything I could think of and wore the right clothing that I didn't think to check Eileen out. She wore a grey jacket and pajama bottoms. After we were about half way up, I noticed that she had no socks under her sneakers. She did make it all the way up and down without harm.

 

I did not bring the snake bite kit, first because there are no snakes about in February, but also because I had since read that the kits are actually a bad idea; they cause more problems then they solve. It is no longer a good idea to cut people up no matter what the reason. They don't usually die from snake bite anyhow. If bit, you just stay calm and go to the hospital. Of course, nowadays one can get on the cell phone and call somebody, like 911, or Robert.

 

This was the first time I had been to the top in 30 something years. It was nice to see some of my old arroyos. In 1968 I had sketched plans for a pond beside a pair of enormous boulders, together nearly the size of a house, with an imagined home out close to the edge where the road might come up and over. This arroyo is a little more then half way to the top and is reasonably easy to reach.

 

The climb from there is a bit more unnerving. I'm sure real climbers would think nothing of it. I certainly thought nothing of it while going up. When going up, all you see is the rock straight in front of you or up ahead. It is rarely straight up; more likely a slope of varying degrees from steep to easy. I stay away from the straight up places; it is climbers like Robert that seek them out; I go around them. Anyhow, the rock you see ahead of you is quite close to you and offers a comfortable sense of security, and you can see exactly where your next step and/or grip is going to be. Of course, you use good sense – making sure that you are gripping solid rock; not a soft projection that might break loose, and you make sure you put your feet onto something solid; not rock that seems to move when touched with fingertips or toes. Of course, it is not really a good practice to touch anything that moves or is soft.

 

When you are going down, the entire picture changes - drastically; suddenly there is nothing in front of you to offer that sense of security – just a great big wide open volume of air. Where you might want to put your next step is incredably way down below you. This is where you begin to wonder if they could drop the end of a rope to you from a helicopter. Heights scare the heck out of me. When I look straight down from high up, a kind of frightening dizzy vertigo grips and twists my guts, but that is no time to pass out, so I don't look. It is in your peripheral vision so you are aware of it but you don't have to look at it. Then when you do get down and you turn and look back up to marvel at your daring and amazing accomplishment, it looks like nothing. You hope nobody noticed that you were scared to death.

 

I had to help Molly up some of the difficult spots and so of course down them too, after giving Eileen a hand, in fact more so on the downs then the ups. That got hairy; I did not want to do this. In fact I did not want to go down them at all, but I couldn't see any other alternative. I had to do it; at times it was a matter of putting my feet out and sliding the heels down, hoping they would catch onto something before loosing my grip (physical or mental). Fortunately Molly seemed to know how to cling to me as I held her to my shoulder with one hand and gripped rock with the other. That's when I realized that it had been really foolish to bring her beyond the point where she could not climb on her own, but that's not something I really considered until I was on the way down and discovered that I really could use all four of my limbs plus any elbows, knees, chin, and any dumb luck that I could muster. But, of course, we made it down.

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

I did pan a series of pictures of the view west from that arroyo and then turned and got one of Eileen and Molly with the worst of the climb behind them. Otherwise, I took no other shots anywhere and I am now kicking myself. I guess I was too busy trying to get to the top before Eileen would quit and turn back, so she could see those vistas I remembered, and then too busy trying to get us all down without somebody getting hurt, including myself. I do remember realizing that I wasn't taking enough pictures, but thinking that I could return in a few days for that purpose. Never happened.

 

What is slightly perplexing is that the Bastrups make this climb fairly often and that Pat Dennis, a professional climber whom I met through Robert & Hilde, takes entire groups up through there. I suspect that they don't go all the way to the top; that they may only go as far as the aforementioned arroyo where they can turn north and descend into the small sculptured town park that is around the corner from our place. In fact, a few weeks prior I did get a pan of that side of my hill from the park so I'll include that here. By the way, what I call “my hill” actually belongs to a small number of people; not just me. I have 10 acres of it. The guy east of me owns 80 acres.

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

Bye

 

I guess that's about it for this year. However, if you check the web site from time to time over the next 6 to 8 months, you should see some new photo essays accumulating.

 

 

Copyright © 2004, Van Blakeman