Fifteen hundred miles to White Sands (1/3) December 26 - 27, 2002 getting there turns out to be long and tedious business

	Joshua Tree NM yuccas and balanced rocks are so typical for this area

On the twenty sixth of December, we suddenly sailed into a week off. For a long time, we had pondered what to do with it. Not that California would have too few natural attractions, but one can manage to drive several thousand miles in a span of a week and check it out beyond the nearest fence.

Here in America, I have been probably most fascinated by deserts. Mountains, oceans, forests -- all those I had encountered in Europe already. Pretty few people, though, manages to live comfortably and happily in a desert, and so it remains a very exclusive, timeless landscape. I love it for its silence alone, which almost rings in your ears. No rattle of trains, engines roaring, human voices, dogs barking, door hinges squeaking, cell phones trilling, not even bugs buzzing, or quiet hum of high voltage lines. Nothing. Our deserts are usually found at high altitudes, and by winter they lose their deadly heat and stay warm and sunny. At times of sleet, a trip to a fake summer charges one with new energy. Hot, dry air forces you to stay alert, unlike in tropical paradises, where one drops into a dull laziness, while pineapples and coconuts fall into one's mouth all by themselves.

	Joshua Tree NM a desert manages to turn unbelievably colorful

A desert is terribly intense. Coming here, I suddenly found myself on an unknown ground. I grew up in a city so soaked in history, at a place where every corner saw thousands or millions of human beings, where every rock was turned over a thousand times and hands kept relocating it from one spot to another, where every inch of ground covers ancient graves, every dust particle was coughed out of thousand lungs. Perhaps that is the reason why desert strikes me so strangely, as a place without history, without alterations, without time.

Every part of a desert is different. Variations come in species of cacti and rugged bushes, types of bedrock, overall landscape shapes and their geological origin. In contrast with my original imaginations, you will only seldom find sand dunes here. One of the most famous locations is Death Valley, another one is White Sands. And so New Mexico became the destination of our new year's trip.

	At the foot of this "heap" of rocks we still had time and mood for taking funny pictures

On our first day, we drove through California Valley, already darkened by nightfall, calling it a day in Victorville. Our first desert awaited us on the next morning - Joshua Tree NM. Péťa had never seen it before, we got here last time in 2000. It felt good to see the familiar combination of yuccas and round rocks. Unfortunately for us, holidays had lured out into this "raw nature" approximately half of able-bodied population of L. A.; we had to drive off on a dirt road to achieve any level of privacy. High heaps of giant rocks invited us for an exercise. Hippo gave up on one ugly flat, thanks to his slippery shoes, Péťa and I chickened out one story higher -- not that we would not be able to conquer a ten feet rock wall, but a combination of no ropes with sixty feet drop-off under our butts, did not make it seem a good idea.

	Jumping cacti are terribly cute, but you can not pet them...

In long afternoon sunlight, we visited "teddy bear" cacti. Bigelow cholla really looks more like some cute, furry domestic animal, but its other nickname - jumping cactus -- is somewhat more accurate. Not that it could attack another creature, but its needles are very catchy and hard to remove. These cacti simply defend their juicy bodies from sunshine and from being eaten. During an early winter solstice sunset, we left this pretty park and before it was time to feed the Hippo again, we managed to move 260 miles and one time zone to the east -- to Phoenix, Arizona.

For some reason we had assumed that such a metropolis like Phoenix would offer countless options with regard to dining. After we drove through a lifeless downtown, among trees on empty avenues, lavishly decorated for the holidays, cowering under tall, dark office buildings, we began to feel quite nervous. Finally, Sid glimpsed Kaddy Korner Bar & Grill and so we found ourselves inside a classical American bar, right next to a group of cheerful dudes, who were watching a football game on a TV, sipping their beers.

	A jumping cactus in bloom

Our food order turned out to be a misunderstanding. Péťa, who refuses to digest any four-leg animal, received pieces of sausage in her marinara sauce. A cooperative waitress took the plate away, promising to change it, and our sad Péťa could only watch us enjoy our meals for a while. That caught an attention of the place's owner, who came to investigate why one of his guests was without food. He apologized and, as is quite normal, asked where we were from, having heard us talk in strange language. He said that his mother was a Czech (he used the word "Bohemian") as well and speed-dialed her on a cell phone to Nebraska, passing the apparatus to Sid -- to talk "Bohemian". Just imagine an eighty-year old lady, born in the U.S. to Czech parents, who gets a call at ten p.m. (or maybe at eleven, if she lives on the side of Nebraska that is in Central Time Zone). Her son tells her that he's got a surprise for her, and some stranger starts talking to her in a Brno accent! There's no doubt in my mind that she was surprised indeed....

Only reluctantly saying goodbye to this island of hospitality in a cold Phoenix, we still had to travel some hundred miles closer to our planned target of the day, Tucson, AZ. Driving was up to Sid as I had a Guinness in me. In a short while it became obvious that there were no heroic deeds left in us for that day. Next ramp took us off the freeway towards a random motel -- and we found it full. We drove some more and tried again, and again, several times. A frosty midnight in southern Arizona did not tend to cheer us up at all. Eventually we found available lodging, at the price of having pushed our endurance limits, already dented by a whole day of driving and seeing interesting places.

Copyright © 2003-2005 by Carol & Sid Paral. All rights reserved.