DISCLAIMER
This is a sometimes raw, always brutally honest, and personal perspective account of my travels & the people I've met; NOT another cliche' travel journal. While pondering the word "perspective," please also remember: I am neither a travel writer nor engaging in public relations. Those seeking tourist reviews, happy talk, or support for any dime-store religion or ideology should leave... right now. This will be a HUGE disappointment, and offending you is quite literally the least of my concern. Comments are encouraged, but are necessarily moderated for the time being. As the movie said: "While agreement is not required, thinking for one's self is." Please check the agenda at the door... and enjoy!
Chris and I intended to meet Kevin early, but our late night made for a late morning. We hung around our spot in the desert before seeing Kevin return and making our way to his camper to say hi and start the day.
Kevin's a rare entity: one that should talk
more! He's a wealth of information. This Monday morning: what type of vehicle one can acquire cheaply, gets decent gas mileage, and has sufficient space for a full-winter Slabbing or living inside while moving from place-to-place. During our stay, Kevin playfully suggested,
several times, that we take one of his two remaining pit bull mix puppies. He had 4-other dogs who double as security for both people and coyotes... the later of which are heard every night. Kevin also had possibly the largest domestic cat I have ever seen, weighing in at 29-pounds, and serving as
Head Mouser.
The
Sit Down & Shut Up (SDSU) idea is simple to comprehend, and maddeningly difficult to follow. It's basically relinquishing control and trusting things to work out as they should,
without our interference. It's also having faith that eventually hindsight will make things apparent. For me, these moments rarely seem obvious: forest thru the trees.
I first feebly tried articulating this idea after its practice led to a "standing-down" of sorts which led, directly, to meeting my brother, Mike. In many ways, the time between September and January was an extended period of "
SDSU." I could not comprehend why I was returning to Santa Fe in September. I just knew that everything seemed to push me there. As is usual, looking back it seems glaringly obvious! Had I thrown a ego-tantrum and insisted on pushing forward to show off or "achieve" something, the remainder of 2009 would look much different.
El Jefe had taken the time to closely observe things, and I was surprised to learn that he decided the place intrigued him enough to take the day off and hang around. That's quite a big deal for him, and nice that we'd be able to hang for another day. Saturday is also Chris's Phone Day: the day he catches up with everyone. Unfortunately, this one involved unexpected complications in Denver. Needing to focus on that, he took his leave of Leonard & Salvation Mountain. The three of us congregated at the bunker to see what the rest of the day held.
Salvation Mountain
One of the first things to learn about "The Slabs" is its primitive clock. With no electricity beyond an occasional car-battery contraption or gas generator, there's little to do past sunset other than sit around a fire drinking beer. While I personally approve of such enriching activities, beer costs money- meaning people are usually in bed
EARLY. In fact, Kevin claimed to be in bed often as early as 6 or 7, and up with the sun.
El Jefe and I finally hit the road for California's Imperial Valley in the early afternoon. Five-hours later, after leaving Quartzsite, the Colorado River, Blythe, and 20-foot cacti behind, we were treated to a stunning I-10 descent into the Imperial Valley and Indio/ Coachella, before hugging the eastern shore of the Salton Sea to the scuttled settlement of Niland... home to Slab City.
The Imperial Valley from Above
The Salton Sea
El Jefe liked the idea of a road trip out of Phoenix and agreed to take me to either Indio/ Coachella, California or all the way to Slab City itself which is adjacent to the Salton Sea (the huge body of water in S. California that you can see on the map- and from space). The plan for Thursday: hang out after he got out of work. Friday morning: west along I-10 into California.
The ONLY reason Greyhound still conducts business is because it's a monopoly. Every year, they find new and astounding ways to baffle me with what I believed to be futility. I've since realized that "futility" is not the right term. They just don't fucking care... they don't have to! Why has this company been granted National Bus Line status? More on this latest vulgar display to come...
"Some Much Needed Reality: Haiti's been a shithole for a century. People dying everyday. Crime that made looting-for-survival look tame. All of the sudden millions of you "care" because you see pictures and CNN tells you to; showing you "care" by sending a txt/ writing a check? Before spouting how much you "care," show me what you were doing 2-weeks ago, or just write your $10 check and shut the fuck up." -TDB, 1/23/10
With most of the rest of the world, 2010 began quietly for us in Boise. Benefiting from her nearly 12-hours of sleep, Lynette was up and off to the Dilliards sale by 7am while the rest us were still snug in our beds... with Rum Runners and Champagne preparing to beat on our heads. I say "our" clearly knowing that I was likely the sole sufferer not named Mike or Lynette. I need the illusion-of-companionship at times. That being said, Shalain too was unable to function due to a massive hangover. I can't even fathom how she drinks like she does. Perhaps a meeting is in order?
