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| no partners | | I take a book off my shelf I haven't looked at in years. It falls open to a page I find interesting. I am going to Anza Borrego and have a rough outline in what I want to do, but I change it. I have become a seeker, rather than a hiker. Information I might find in maps or in the written word encourages my forward progression in life, and as I am a visual person, if there are pictures it seals the deal for me.
Hiking is incidental if it gets me to the places I want to see. It might be a little, it might be a lot. It might be a here and there. There might not be a pack, but there is always a camera, or two.
I first explore around the ancient edge of extinct Lake Cahuilla. It occupied the Salton sink but something like 100 miles long from present day Indio to Mexico, and about 35 miles wide. It was only one of a series of fresh water lakes that this area held, only to dry out eventually as the Colorado river changed course multiple times, deriving the basin of it's source. I was looking for Fish Traps, the 300-400 year old kind. Placed with the open end toward shore, as the lake fluctuated in height the fish that swam in were trapped, then easy prey for the hungry humans in the area at the time. I walked quite a bit in the open, enjoying the endless flat plains of travertine coated rocks, millions of shells, and the general emptiness. I did find the old traps, a series of them, a few of many that is known along the old huge lake edge. Strange to think of in this dry desolation.
The air here is murky. Thousands of off roaders in Ocotillo Wells, the activity of the farms and the warm air makes things not clear. I do a little more driving about then dive off the side to hike in a slot portion of South Fork of Palm Wash. A short cooling down, it's pretty warm. I drive on to Coyote Canyon, to the third crossing in lower willows, not to drive the boulder alley but to hike in the riparian area. All the times I've been here I've always driven on, never stopped and walked. The third crossing is almost unrecognizable. Usually a watery tunnel of willows, it's open now and the spring driven water shallow although still a good flow assuming the Cali drought going on. I park and walk. The thick greenery is only passable by a trail using the old Jeep road through before it was rerouted. Grapevines, thick willows, catclaw and others. I get bored and make the mistake of thinking I will cut over to the road. I try walking in an area where at times due to deadfall I am 2-3 feet above ground, a rude awakening when I periodically fall through. I am soon bleeding and tired of thrashing about. Back to the route, humbled and out at sunset, locating a nice camp spot off Coyote Canyon road to lick my wounds.
Morning and a new destination. My book gives a brief paragraph describing a prehistoric rock quarry nearby, one of the oldest in the US, about 5000 BP, and evidence it was worked for many years, with very old trails radiating out from the site. One small problem, access is across private land; the information indicated permission could be had speaking with the land owner.
The day before I had stopped in, no one home, after all a long holiday weekend. I returned, no dice, then drove a dirt road, got to the power line road, drove, then parked some distance up a wash from that. My destination was now a cross country trek, avoiding the private land the road was on, but I could see the general area I needed from where I parked. What was a little walk?
I made good time in and out of it seemed many small rock strewn washes. I came across snippets of trails, no activity in a long time. When I hit the main wash, old tire tracks, quads. I was in the quarry area, with some adjacent more recent quarry activity.
I walked around, taking note of the beautiful rock, and the many, many worked pieces. Since there was more recent activity I got away from the road cuts and just walked in the rock. I saw some old archeo survey sites. I saw only one sure piece, appeared to be a hammerstone, perhaps an axe head. It had good heft and shape, although a little thick. I looked around, good views from here, of a lot of country, someone's home at one time. They would have had a great view of the predecessor of Lake Cahuilla.
I walked some more, thinking of nothing. Finally time to walk back to the unseen car. I picked a line and came in right on top of it. Perhaps Brians' route finding is rubbing off on me.
Drive to do some more locating of this end of the elusive Bradshaw trail. BLM has you going from the Hot Springs road way south on Hwy 111. I drive to the locked gate at the Dos Palmas preserve. I find out later that you are apparently welcome to walk in, about a mile, and roam around. I hike a little trail in some nearby palms, and see some pottery shards. Just can't get away from these guys, they are everywhere. I decide to camp by the Salton Sea again, at Corvina beach. Price decreased to five bucks.
It's a nice sunset and lots of teasing birds. I swear when it gets too dark for photographs they cruise only a few feet from the edge of the beach. Wake up to fog and rain. It's not cold or warm, just damp. Hopefully will turn into more rain for them.
I have an urge to return to Dos Palmas, decide to save that for another time. Good to start home a little ahead of the crowds.
Plus, I have that hike to do, later. More seeking for whatever it is I am trying to find. |
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