They Call the Wind Mariah

We left the Joshua Tree National Park area, and travelled south and west toward the eastern shore of the Salton Sea, where we stopped at the visitor center--bird life abounded, especially the many shore birds like the black necked stilt.   We also heard a melodius call from a large black bird with a long tail darting between the palm trees--I could not identify him, although he was longer and narrower than a crow but about the same size with a longer bill and much longer tail.



The shore of the sea is made up of crushed shells like those from a barnacle.  A  few dead Tilapia lined the edge, but the water was blue and seemed serene:

We continued on to Anza Borrego, although we found service stations to be few and far between once past Mecca--the casino and the truck stop are the best bets.

Once we turned to climb up into the park, we passed miles of Ocatillo--so many
blooming that the barren desert had a red cast to it. 

Although we missed our campground turnoff due to a miscommunication between Liz and me, we eventually got to our reserved campsite, which is nice, although a little hot until the breeze kicks in (later, we would wish for the heat and lack of "breeze").  Lots of nature walks start from this campground and tomorrow we will be taking one very early.

Winds began to kick up during the night, but we had been experiencing mild windy conditions on the desert for some days, so didn't give them much thought.  Liz and I rose very early for our morning wildlife walk, remarking on the blustery winds, then headed out.  By the time we had driven the short distance to the trail head, the winds were much stronger, but we headed up the canyon trail anyway.  It was well marked, and an easy uphill grade, leading to an oasis.    Soon, the winds grew wto what can only be described as fierce, and I turned on the trail to avoid the stinging sand-blast of small gravel and sand--our footprints had already disappeared in the blowing wind.  Liz (Energizer Bunny, up ahead a ways), came back to see what I was looking at, and I told her I was just turning from the wind.  We walked a few more steps on, then the dust became unbearable, and back we turned to head home to the campsite.  I caught a glimpse of a roadrunner on the trail, but it quickly hid.

The wind was blowing steadily at near gale force by the time we got to the trailer, and the beds were hopping, with the canvase slapping and popping more than I had ever seen it before.  The winds grew in ferocity, and cointinued to buffet the trailer, and we brought in the slide-out.  I wanted to put up the beds, but Liz didn't think we could, and was afraid that we might be hurt.  At last I couldn't stand it anymore, and so we collapsed the beds from inside, hoping they would tolerate the wind better, then I went out in the gritty dust storm and put up one bed, rather easily, latching just one side, and leaving about two inches of fabric poking ou the other end--that bed would survive, I knew.  The back bed, which is heavier and higher, seemed to catch on something as I tried to put it up, so I couldn't do it.  Instead, I tied the canvas down with a rope and the secured the bed to the back bumper of the trailer, hoping that would help it survive. 

Lizzie was worried the trailer might topple in the constant windspeeds of 35-50 mph with gusts up to 80 mph, so we sat inside my car, which was also getting sandblasted.

 

We didn't realize that we had also experienced a power outage (as we were in the car), but decided to drive into Borrego Springs for lunch, as there was nothing more we could do at the campsite except watch, and maybe we could pick up some information on how long the storm might last.  That was where we learned of the power outage--no gas stations operating, no restaurants working, no stores open--the town was closed up.  We returned to the trailer, and as we drove into the campground there was a strange calm, a lull in the winds.  I hurriedly put up the other bed, closing it tightly into place and fully closing the other bed which had the bit of fabric left poking out.  Some sand had penetrated the inside, and I knew I would have a major cleanup of the trailer when I got it home, but at least it seemed to be surviving, and now the trailer was locked and secure.

A fan palm tree, the only native Southern California palm, is located in each campsite, and ours had held up well.  But across the road from us, a man in a campsite had over thirty huge vicious palm fronds fall on his site, landing fortuitously between his vehicle and his trailer, but piling up into a wooden hill over eight feet tall. He moved his truck to the next campsite just as the winds
picked up again, and there more palm fronds fell, still missing both his truck and the trailer.  We rode out the day in the trailer, slideout in, beds up.  That night, we cautiously put out the sldieout--the winds were still blowing, but probably only about 20-25 mph, so we decided to sleep on the sofa and the dinette table/bed, leaving the main beds folded and secure. The winds buffetted us during the night, bouncing the trailer, but we made it through the night. 

The next morning, we began to prepare to leave, and I noticed that my windshield looked like it might be micro-pitted--it will need a thorough cleaning at a service station to tell.  But it was obvious that the trailer had a dull finish--the sandblasting had stripped the wax from the new trailer.  Jose and I will have to re-wax the little Roo once it gets home.  As I put up the hitch, locking it onto the 4R8unner, the hitch sprung in little increments as I raised the jack--clearly the trailer had been bounced enough to move and put strain on the tongue jack, but it seemed to be okay.

We were constantly using Safari on the Iphone to check on the status of wind advisories for the highways around us, and decided our best route with the trailer was a southern one, as the higheway to the north was still under a wind advisory until the afternoon.  We headed out, catching a glimpse of a roadrunner just as we left camp.

We headed up the mountain toward Orange, and had absolutely no troubles climbing over the pass and dropping into the Lake Elsinore valley area, and reaching Orange.

The Orangeland campground is very nice, we have a pretty campsite #24, and I would readily stay here again and use this as  a base for visiting Southern California sights.

We met Holly, Lary and Shane for dinner on our first night, and ate in historic downtown Orange, which is really pretty.  The restaurant, Citrus City Grille, was great--the owner was wonderful and very solicitous, and we had a good time.

The next morning, Liz and I helped Holly and Shane clean and organize sopme of Lee's household materials.  Today, we are going to the La Brea Tar Pits.