A Simple Travelogue Continues

The temperature, already well into the 30s, is due to reach 37. I quite enjoy that but protracted activity such as our previous two photo-shoots is not very practical. In any kind of exposure to the sun you can actually feel yourself burning and this was March. I have no major objectives now before reaching San Diego and my strange mind is already racing ahead to two trips to London and a week in Norway. Today, the laundry would be enough. If I feel really energetic, I might lift a pizza. The gardens of Inndulge, busy at the moment, are impossibly pleasant from one end of the day to the other. From the first moment the sun illuminates Mt. San Jacinto to the dusk when the same sun descends below the same mountain there is joy in the lushly planted garden. Even now, at only 6am, rich birdsong cascades across the grounds from neighbouring trees and gardens. During the day I shall see but probably never capture (on camera) humming birds; rather charming lizards will inspect me from the shade of the vegetation.

Yesterday was our second and main photo-shoot. We left Palm Springs a little early to try to be on the return journey during the greatest heat. It is a strange drive to Borrego Springs made easier this time by familiarity. In reality you are never that far from anywhere but the desert is real enough and the sun harsh enough to be prepared. Water is essential and S22 really would not be a good place to break down. The ravaged surface of Ramon gives way to a more confident blacktop as the route seeks I-10 and then 86S. The main roads glare white and sunglasses are (almost) as essential as water. It is hard to describe the scenery. You feel, in many places, you should leave the car and photograph it but, in as many places, the photographers mind and eye say 'no'. It does not look quite right, the light just a little hazy. I think you would have to be a landscape specialist to get the best out of it. I know from my first Grand Canyon visit that it is incredibly difficult for the camera to replicate the subtle striations of the rock formations. They change with the miles and with the hours. This is the geological equivalent of the English forest autumn and it makes you wonder deeply at the complexity of the eye. We are blessed to see so many variations, so much subtlety, so much beauty. At the same time, the harshness of the southbound journey is real enough. It is only 250 years since pioneers were punished by this land and today's roads, rail tracks and telephone poles do nothing to soften the unspoken threat. To the left, the east, The Salton Sea sparkles but somehow is not attractive. The desultory habitations which cling loosely to it, Desert Shores and Salton City speak of lost lives. It is hard to imagine why the people are there. In Salton City, an 'am/pm' gas station and shop is quite a smart, well kept oasis for, one imagines, mostly passing trade. Leaving the gas station, the roads of Imperial County give a rough ride before the more obviously maintained route through San Diego County. There are all sorts of activities not far from the road as you cross Anzo-Borrego State Park. We wondered how the RVs are cooled.

With a little time to go before a sensible lunchtime, we drove out to the further reaches of gently sprawling Borrego Springs and gradually regained our bearings from our curtailed visit of last time. In searing heat, I tried to capture everything previously missed and the bright light forced me to rare use of the viewfinder. I don't suppose any reasonable LCD screen could cope with those levels. I saw cactus but I stared hard at them and they left me alone so this time it was only going to be heatstroke and no puncture wounds. In fact, we took it in turns to leave the car so that we could leave the engine and a/c running. Greg became hypoglycaemic and the sun was still getting hotter so we fled to Carlees. We were not disappointed as one sometimes can be with a second visit. The food was excellent, the service at a busy lunch, very pleasant. If you go to Borrego Springs, you really should eat there.

The afternoon was not quite over. I decided to stop at Thermal Airport, now rather lengthily named Jacqueline Cochran Regional Airport. It is a substantial place with some interesting aircraft and I might go back without Greg. America has an uneasy relationship with its predominantly freight bearing railroads. I can't say I was pleased when and eastbound train stopped across the Airport Boulevard crossing but the situation quickly turned to my advantage. It was waiting for a westbound train to pass. Whilst the road has the most basic half-barrier to hold the traffic there is nothing else to restrict access to trackside. The photo opportunity was excellent and to be so close to the passing of powerful locomotives was not unlike standing next to an airport runway to watch take-offs.

Hwy. 111 seemed long as we continued through Indio, La Quinta and then Indian Wells before reaching the much more familiar Palm Desert and the remaining miles home. The journey gave me some ideas for our unplanned days off before driving to San Diego.