Finding Family In the So-Cal Desert

Finding Family In the So-Cal Desert

A few days ago, our family spent almost a week desert camping, away from phone signals and internet service. We’d been soaking in hot springs, hiking through the desert, and splashing around in the torrid rain storms. Life was simple. And then…

We emerged into COVID-19 madness.

I imagine that, for most, this whole Coronavirus thing has felt somewhat surreal. For us, who’d been blissfully unaware of the developments, it has felt downright otherworldly as we scramble to find our bearings in this new reality.

Personally, I have spent the last few days hovering somewhere between panic-buying (we were late starting) and despair. See, we have tickets to France, and are due to leave on April 6^th for our long-awaited two-month trip. April 6^th also coincides with the last day of our US visa, so even if we cannot fly to France (which seems likely) we have to leave the United States. To go where, I haven’t the faintest idea…

When I sat down today to compile the photos of our last few weeks in Southern California, it was the first moment of OK-ness I’ve felt in days. Right now, I feel grateful for the time we have just spent, in a beautiful part of the world, with family. I’m going to focus on that gratitude now, and hopefully bring you a little reprieve from the Corona-madness.

Ok, here goes:

They just can’t seem to keep away from one another. Twenty-six days after parting ways with his grandparents in Mexico, Phoenix was reunited with them – now in the south-easternmost tip of California!

Our first couple of weeks back together were filled primarily with being together. My parents had had a few fun adventures in Mexico (most notably an epic train ride in the Copper Canyon), so we exchanged travel tales and compared notes as to how much growing up Phoenix had done in those almost-four weeks.

The campground we found ourselves in had a wonderful, heated pool, so we spent a fair few afternoons there enjoying good-old reliable desert sun. Phoenix, once cautious in the water, began launching himself off the pool steps under the water, where we’d catch him a second or two later and bring him up for air. It was a fun game, and we all looked on proudly. One afternoon, we hung out at the pool with little Milo, a twenty-month old from Quebec with a giant set of play-dough and a naughty personality. It’s always fun when Phoenix gets to play with another toddler!

One afternoon, all five of us took our bicycles to the bike path along Yuma’s slice of the Colorado River. On one end of the path was one of the best playgrounds I have ever seen, and on the other end was a giant train engine. Several trains passed by our campground each day, and one of Phoenix’ favorite activities was running to watch the train pass by, so needless to say he had a great time!

When we finally managed to peel ourselves away from our Yuma campground, we headed toward White Sand Dunes Recreational Park, spending two nights boondocking on either side. “Boondocking” means camping on a piece of land without facilities – no water or electricity, and no sites for dumping waste water (that’s why it’s also called “dry camping”). To boondock, you need to be self-sufficient energy and water-wise, something that my parents’ RV was not ready for until literally a day before this experience. They did a lot of work the weeks prior to make this happen – buying and setting up batteries to power their lights and plugs, and installing an extra canister of propane to power their fridge.

While our Big Blue Bus has a much better set up for this type of camping – with our solar panels, batteries and fridge – I am happy to report that my parents survived their two nights boondocking – and I even think they enjoyed it. Can you blame them, when your spot for the night backs onto rugged mountains with a distant view of sand dunes and an old mine to explore before heading off to bed with nothing but an almost-full moon to light the sky? It was the quietest night my parents had ever spent in their RV – and it was free!

We didn’t end up staying in the sand dunes, themselves, because it was the weekend and the place was absolutely chock-a-block with dune buggies and quads plying the dunes. It was actually dangerous to walk out onto the dunes because, man, those people are adrenaline junkies! (Rich ones, at that – some of their buggies were worth the price of a house!) Though the dunes reminded me visually of those we had visited with my parents a few years before in Morocco, the atmosphere couldn’t have been more different. I think I prefer the Bedouin/camel vibe, personally, but each to their own.

Our next stop was Agua Caliente Hot Springs, adjacent to the Anza-Borrega Desert State Park, and not far from San Diego. We had reserved five nights because it’s a popular place at a popular time (we have been encountering this problem a lot in the United States since arriving at the beginning of February), and unfortunately we booked during a very off-week, weather-wise. The day we arrived was cold and extremely windy – windy as I’ve only ever known in the desert – and half of our full days at the park were rain like I’ve never seen in a desert. There was so much rain that the ground couldn’t soak it up, and there was mud and dirt making waterfalls and rivers down the sloping grounds of the campground. The desert sure is a place of extreme weather!

Though we tried keeping Phoenix indoors when the rain began (with my dad and I visiting the indoor hot springs swimming pool a couple times), we eventually gave up. It was the first time Phoenix has truly played in the rain and, armed with his raincoat and rain boots, he loved it! He and Papa went on a long exploration of the campground on the hunt for frogs (they didn’t find any), and one afternoon, Phoenix played outside with a German girl a few months older than him while we chatted with her parents.

We did take advantage of a sunny afternoon to go on a nice desert hike through a wash and up a mountain. It was probably the longest hike we have done with Phoenix as a toddler, and it went so well! He spent part of it in a baby carrier, but he actually hiked a chunk of it, too, balancing on top of rocks, walking with a walking stick made-to-order by his grandfather, and climbing up a few surprisingly steep hills.

That hike sort of epitomizes our family’s experience of Southern California’s desert. As you begin the hike, you’re not especially taken with the landscape. It’s not obviously beautiful, as a seascape is, for example. It’s stark, dull-colored, without obvious signs of life. But as you walk further, quieting down your mind, looking more deeply and silently at your surroundings as your feet fall into step with the rhythm of the place, you see something more. A pop of pink at the head of a modest cactus; the distant howl of a band of coyotes; evidence of a bulging, powerful river in a small palm tree oasis at the end of the wash.

That’s the thing about the desert, I think. You have to work a little bit more to love it. To slow down, to really see. To appreciate the little flower buds among the thorns; the rabbits and road runners; the harshness of the environment. If you do, you may just be offered a special reward.

It’s a few days later that I’m editing and posting this blog. Our family has spent the last several days in Lake Cahuilla Recreational Park as we gathered our thoughts and changed our plans in the wake of COVID-19. It was a good place to regroup – quiet, un-busy, out in nature, and filled with that special grounding desert beauty that calms the nerves and the heart.

My parents left us a few hours ago to drive back to Canada. They will cross the border as quickly as possible (well, as quickly as almost 6000km takes!) Our little family, on the other hand, isn’t at all sure what the next few weeks will bring. So I think we’re going to go hide out in another nature-filled desert spot for a little while, until we receive clarity on our own next steps.

Sending you all my best wishes for health and peace in these trying times. xx