On the first night at our B&B in Yosemite, I grabbed a book off the bookshelf called, The Prophet. It’s a book of life wisdom about a man, or a prophet, who has lived abroad for years and is about to make his journey back home. It felt wholly appropriate to be reading it in that time and place, as I was about to do the same.
As you know, I drove a lot during the California sister’s trip (ahem, no thanks to my partner-in-travel), and after that I decided to just keep on driving. After Elayne left, I joined my housemates for our last round of Highland Park food truck nights and sold my bed at exactly 8pm. The next day, it was time to drive my fully packed car to Phoenix.
The drive itself would take about 5.5 hours, but I’d been thinking of stopping at an art installation in the desert called Salvation Mountain. I was undecided about going, because it would add almost two hours and take me on a more remote path. However, a friend of mine had done it before on her solo road trip and she agreed that it would be worthwhile. I changed my course and headed southeast of the interstate.
The first scenic viewpoints I passed were of the Salton Sea (pictured above), which is this kind-of-creepy and very isolated body of water that seems very out of place in the desert. I stopped in the nearby town of Bombay Beach—population 295 and apparently the lowest community in the United States. “Community” might be a bit of a stretch because the town seemed to be made up of abandoned trailers spray-painted with anarchist messaging and signs saying “Hipsters go home”. It definitely had a spooky scary movie energy, but the kind you can’t help but keep watching.
I wound a little further past that town and mapped my way to Salvation Mountain. Its bright colors were easy to spot from the rest of the flat, sandy scenery. The air was steaming hot, but I was too impressed by this artist's and community’s dedication to mind.
After about half an hour of sweating in Dr. Seuss-land, I got back on path and continued the journey. Pretty soon, i found myself in the midst of some surprise sand dunes that extreme Star Wars fans probably know more about than me. Nonetheless, I was very excited to park the car again and stop at an overlook.
Later, I had to stop at a border checkpoint and nervously explain my intentions. It went fine, and the terrain kept changing and keeping things interesting. I was well on my way to Phoenix… (to be continued).