Dashing out Friday for hikes in Joshua Tree. Up this morning for one more bite of the hiking apple. Good chunk of miles at elevation. Mile high on first hike.
29 Palms Oasis Trail is free and officially part of the park. Short and sweet. Could do this hike every day.
Let’s also take a moment, remove our hats and salute to the stalwart souls who make any visit to Yucca Valley rock. A metaphysical feast of desert fools resplendent in piercings, tattoos and Art Cars in this case a bus.
New Vaudeville was a term of art coined some decades back. Musical hall, standup, variety artists, and street performers needed a new flow chart for what had come before, what was happening at the moment and where this juggernaut of new wave entertainment energy was heading. One of the purposes of this website is to simply make my show and production skills available. So there is that on offer here.
Fascinating conversation this morning about Feng Shui, permaculture and collecting edible plants in the Sonoran Desert. What’s on your plate? What are you cooking? Keep in touch, write me a note, let me know what you think we should do about making this a better world for those yet unborn ancestors who will be arriving here soon.
Confined to the Los Angeles Arts District for the past ten days, then before to Emeryville, and back and forth but nothing in between I am getting a bit long of tooth on this urban confinement. Clogged urban arterials no longer sing their heart-stopping song. I don’t want to be cheek to jowl at another standing room only event. I need a tent, trail, ridge and rattlesnake.
East to the border then crossing into open-carry Arizona where I’ll be packing my fully loaded Swiss Army knife, tent, hiking boots and Kevlar walking sticks. The forlorn desert town of Ajo is my first waystation. I’ll hold up overnight there, eat tacos and fight off Gila Monsters. I’ll more likely than not spend the evening gazing at stars, drinking tea and finish reading Abbey’s Hayduke Lives before I fall asleep.
The main thing is to wake up and be unfamiliar with where I have landed. The stranger and more lost-and-to-hell-and-gone I feel in the morning the better. Fix coffee, read, eat some grub, pack the tent, say two words to someone and then head east.
I got a date with a trailhead on top Mt. Lemmon on the itinerary. Will plan on a long hike. The idea is to let the mind and body wonder. Gaze down and find an animal track. Look up and see a raven. Stop every now and then have a sip of water. Put a handful of trail mix in my mouth and continue along my way. Cussing is part of the thing.
Somewhere mixed up in the driving, sleeping, and thinking is medicine to cure the confinement that’s been eating at me. The stop lights and homeless are a wearisome part of my day to day and I need a holiday from them both. I need some solitude slathered all across my need for space. I need some emptiness that might be meaningful if not downright useful. If I got even two words to rub together to spark a constructive conversation I’ll be the first to be surprised. I’m feeling like I haven’t a useful thought or gainful insight coming to me anywhere near or anytime soon. I’m looking for some restoration of the old psychic timbers so I may return and continue to participate in the construction of further delusions with the whole of humanity. Departing not soon enough but better late than never. With any luck this could be useful or produce envy or someone might criticize me for being a quitter while I’m gone. This is common to our circumstance in this era. Wish me luck or not.