winter 2002 the survivior newsletter ~ desert survivors

Survivorthe

The quarterly journal of Desert Survivors • Experience, Share, Protect • Winter 2002

2 The Survivor Fall 2002

Cover photo: trip leader Craig Deutsche at Font’s Point in Anza-Borrego state park, February 2002photo by Eric Rorer

Letter from the Editor

By Jessica Rothhaar, Communications Director

This issue, we continue our "deserts of the world" series with articles by two DS members who have traveled in the deserts ofNamibia and Morocco, and a review of a recent book about Africa. In the next issue, we plan to have some articles about theAtacama desert in Chile, by DS members who have lived and traveled there. If you’ve traveled through foreign deserts (Gobi

or Takla Makan, anyone?) and would like to write about your experience for the Survivor, or share your photographs with us, pleaselet us know.

This issue also highlights the increasing pressure being placed on desert water by population growth in Southern California, with twoarticles about Cadiz and the Mojave River. The authors of these carefully researched and well-written pieces, Li Miao and JoePendleton, will both speak at the first Desert Survivors Annual Conference on October 26. Li will lead a focus group to discoverhow we can do a better job of involving members in desert issues and advocacy, and Joe will give a short presentation on the effectsof suburban sprawl in southern California.

I am in a bit of a time warp; as I write this, we are preparing for the first Annual Conference in a few weeks. We will hold publicationof the Survivor until after the Conference, however, in order to include a report on the Conference. We hope and expect that thisfirst Annual Conference will be a terrific success. The Board’s goals are for at least 50 members to attend, and for those in attendanceto feel educated and inspired by the program. I have to wait, but you don’t, to see whether we achieved those goals.

How to reach us:

Managing Editor: Jessica Rothhaar……..... (510) 525-4921, [email protected]

Art Director: Hall Newbegin………... (510) 845-1418, [email protected]

Membership Inquiries: Steve Tabor……............. (510) 769-1706, [email protected]

DS on the web: www.desert-survivors.org

Submissions and Letters for Next SurvivorDeadline for submissions for the Spring 2003 issue is February 1. Articles are subject to editing; please read the SubmissionGuidelines at www.desert-survivors.org before submitting your article. Letters to the Editor should be 200 words or less and aresubject to editing. Articles and letters should be emailed to [email protected]; please include your full name, city and state ofresidence and phone number. Photos, maps and line drawings should be emailed or snail mailed to Hall Newbegin,[email protected], 3032 Tremont Street, Berkeley, CA 94703; hard copy will be returned to you if you include your name

Congratulations!Desert Survivor members Spencer Bermanand Lois Grunwald were married May 22of this year in a small campground in theOwens Valley. Spencer and Lois met on aDesert Survivor three-day backpack led bySteve Tabor in the Marble Mountains in thespring of 1998 and, by chance, met upagain on another Desert Survivor hike inJoshua Tree on Thanksgiving that sameyear. Spencer and Lois, who lived at oppo-site ends of the state, spent the next yearcommuting to the desert and the CentralCoast for weekend hikes, including severalon the Desert Trail. They now residetogether in Ventura County.

Web MasterWantedDesert Survivors urgently needs a webmaster to take charge of our website. Aredesign of the website is in the works and,with luck, will be final by the time you readthis. But we need someone to put in 10-20hours every month to keep the websitecontent updated, to "webbify" the tripschedules and selected articles and illustra-tions from the Survivor – in short, to bringDS into the 21st century! Ideally, thiswould be someone with experience in bothweb design and content. But we’ll takeanyone who knows how to webbify textand images and wants to put in the time,working closely with the board and otherinterested members. A number of boardmembers would be quite interested inworking with the webmaster to create areally useful, up-to-the-minute issues sec-tion. You’ll learn a lot, have something toput on your resume, and gain enormoussatisfaction. We’ll finally have a websiteworth publicizing. What a deal.

[Box Ad]

Policy wonk? Gear head? Want to getmore involved with desert protection? Jointhe hardcore: sign-up for the DesertSurvivors listserv and join the in-crowd.To subscribe, or for more information,send an e-mail to [email protected]. Please Note: Desert Survivorshas adopted a formal e-mail privacy policy

and will not share, trade or sell our mem-bers e-mail addresses to any other organiza-tion.

3The Survivor Summer 2002

Short Takes


Country Overview

Namibia, called South West Africa prior to 1968, shares borders withAngola and Zimbabwe to the north, Botswana to the east, and South Africato the south. It is a country double the size of California, with a populationof just 1.6 million. The Khoisan-speaking tribes now called the San(Bushmen), the Damara, and the Nama (Hottentot) were once its sole inhabi-tants. Their rock paintings in the northwestern stretch of the country datetheir presence back 20,000 years. These were, and some still are, hunters andgatherers. They are small people, most standing only a little over 5 feet tall, afeature that cost them in their many battles for the rule of more fertile lands.They now represent only about 15% of the population, grossly outnumberedby the taller and heavier Bantu-speaking tribes: the Owambo (50%), Kavango(10%), Herero (8%), Caprivian (4%), and Himba (1%). The Bantumigrated from the northeastern reaches of the African continent and arrivedin Namibia only about 500 years ago.

In 1884, a German investor named Luderitz bought up much of the south-ern coastal lands and later sold it to his countrymen for colonization under thename of South West Africa. Diamonds were discovered in 1908 while arailway was being built, and the boom hit. After World War I, South Africaadministered the country under a mandate from the League of Nations butignored instructions by the UN in the late 1940s to relinquish control andgrant South West Africa its independence. In 1966 the South West AfricanPeoples’ Organization (SWAPO) began its fight for freedom. In 1968 theUN declared the South African occupation illegal and accepted the nameNamibia in place of the one that had implied annexation. Namibia formally

gained its independence on March 21, 1990.

Nevertheless, Namibia remains very much dependent on South Africa for itsresources. Indeed, the South African currency, the Rand, is used interchange-ably with Namibia’s own Dollar and the currency value matches the Rand.The country is rich in minerals (25% of the GDP comes from mining inter-ests) and 60% of its labor resources is committed to agriculture, but because ofwater constraints, most of the agricultural product is allocated to subsistencefarming.

For a country as youthful as is Namibia, one would never suspect a thriving,smooth running government to be in power. In fact, Namibia’s government isconsidered a model democracy. It offers its citizens freedom of speech, freedomof the press, the right of association and religious affiliation. It has a bicam-eral Westminster-style parliament, regular elections for the House ofParliament and National Assembly, and, until recently, a two-term limit forthe presidency. Approximately 89% of school-aged children attend school andthe country’s literacy rate is a healthy 40% - impressive given the sparse ruralpopulation and the challenging cross-tribal issues. English is the country’s offi-cial language, so all scholastic and tertiary instruction is conducted in English,although German is primarily spoken in Windhoek and Swakopmund, andAfrikaans is the dominant language for the older generations. Many of thetribal people remain grateful to Christian missionaries, who provided themwith food, clothing and shelter while they attended mission schools and learnedto read. Between 80% and 90% of the country is Christian or a mottledblend of it coupled with a tribal religion.

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Namibia: The Other Promised LandBy Judith L. Kendall, Berkeley, CA

5The Survivor Fall 2002

I arrived in Namibia for the first time in April of 1999 with anAmerican music-teaching colleague, with whom I worked in SouthAfrica as a counselor at the international school. We joined upwith one other traveler, a young Swiss welder, and our intrepidguide, Andrew Holmboe, at the Chameleon Backpackers’ Lodge,for an 8-day private tour of Kaokoland, the northwestern region,by Land Rover. Little did I know then that Kaokoland wouldbecome the new love of my life, and that I would cast aside allplans of returning to the US in favor of a grandiose plan to immi-grate to Namibia. From November 1999 to July 2000, I lived anitinerant life in Namibia in a vain attempt to obtain a work permit.Though I could not obtain one and eventually had to leave, Ibecame more and more enchanted with what I saw of this remotejewel of a country tucked away on the other side of existence.

South from Windhoek

Namibia’s central plateau runs longitudinally along the spine of thecountry and is flanked by deserts: the Namib Desert along theAtlantic coast and the Kalahari Desert, which Namibia shares withBotswana and South Africa, along the eastern border. The NamibDesert competes with the Atacama Desert of South America forthe title of being the oldest desert on the planet. It covers anenormous expanse (50,000 sq kms), the size of Maryland and NewJersey combined. Its scenery varies from gray gravel moonscapeto lone mountains projecting up from hundreds of miles of bisqueflats, to elegant drapes of ruby-lipped apricot dunes that peak at amagnificent 800 feet. The southern portion of the Namib Desertis a highly restricted area. It is owned by Consolidated DiamondMines (CDM), a powerful Southern African mining company.Entering these "forbidden zones" without a permit is a sure way toend one’s life, and obtaining a permit is just shy of impossible. Inthe early part of the 20th century, beachcombers could becomewealthy in a day, as diamonds were strewn everywhere along thesandy shores of the Atlantic Coast. Don’t book your ticket yet,though: CDM tidied that mess long ago.

Two prominent coastal towns mark the Namib-Naukluft NationalPark’s northern and southern boundaries. Swakopmund, to thenorth, feels like a beach town with cafes and restaurants, B&Bsand hotels, and an adventure shop that will take the young andrestless sandboarding in the park. Although I didn’t get theopportunity to venture out on the boards, videos assure the adven-turous a grand time of mouthfuls and bottoms-full of the pulver-ous stuff. Instead, I ventured off to Cape Cross Seal Colony to beawestruck by 50,000 seals barking and crying about territories orlost young ones, and by the stench of those young who never didreunite with their mothers.

Luderitz, on the southern edge of the park (about 250 miles fromSwakopmund), is a quirky but charming little German town thatseems completely unaware of the tourists who contribute hand-somely to its fishing-dependent economy. A half-hour’s driveinland is a ghost mining town called Kolmanskop that was the cen-ter of the 1908-1915 diamond boom, that today has been all butswallowed up by the sands of the Namib.

The Kalahari Desert commences due east of the central plateau, atan elevation of 1,000 meters. The Kalahari is a desert not becauseof its annual rainfall, which is over 100mm, but because its sandy

surface allows for virtually no water to be retained. Even so, theKalahari’s sand dunes are vegetated and offer nourishment to anunusual collection of creatures. The gemsbok, or oryx, is speciallyadapted to survive the desert heat. Its skull carries an insulatinglayer of water that protects the brain from being cooked by soar-ing temperatures of 120 degrees. Some of the Kalahari reptilescan be found nowhere else in the world.

Southern Namibia has another fascinating geological wonder: theFish River Canyon. This canyon is purported to be the secondlargest in the world, second only to our very own Grand. As hik-ers descend toward the Fish River at the canyon’s base, they walkback in geological time, passing periods of erosion, faults, glaciers,fractures in conglomerates of limestone and other sedimentsdeposited by a sea, metamorphic rock that had been heated andcompressed more than a billion years ago, and finally to the bowelsof Namibian earth, where lava, shale, and sandstone date back to1.8 billion years.

Climbing down to the canyon’s bottom, wading in its cool riverand climbing back out is a full day’s excursion, but most opt tohike a 5-day route along the canyon floor. I’ve heard harrowingstories of those who took this route in the middle of summer,when temperatures reach 120 degrees, and barely survived. I’vealso heard flip-side stories of those who found frozen water bot-

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tles at their sides as they awakened from a semi-hardened statethemselves. The Fish River Canyon backpack/hike is challenging,but wonderfully rewarding.

North from Windhoek

Driving north from Windhoek along the central plateau’s veldt, afirst overnight spot after a 4-hour drive might be the 250-meter-high Waterberg Plateau. This is a lovely mecca of birds (I spottedmy first pair of Meyers Parrots right in the campground), flora(from lush fig tree forests to acacia bush, to grasslands), andwildlife (hyenas, rhinos, kudu and even leopards inhabit the plateauitself, while a pair of nearly tame, greyhound-sized duikers tip-toearound the wooded campground on their dainty hooves, giving coyblinks with their enormous black eyes and long frilly eyelashes).The campground is situated at the base of the plateau and is a per-fect embarkation point for a 5-day safari hike onto the plateau, orfor brief day-hikes to the face of the plateau. I will always

remember the discovery of the south-facing plateauwalls, coated with the vibrant colors of over 150 dif-ferent types of lichen that flourish from moistureseeping through the porous sandstone to the groundsbelow. Every 20 feet I was awestruck by another bril-liant work of nature’s art.

A few hours further north is the entrance to one ofthe three best wildlife parks in the whole of Africa:Etosha National Park (the others being KrugerNational Park in South Africa and the SerengetiPlains of Tanzania and Kenya). The defining featureof Etosha Park is the expansive Etosha Pan.Measuring approximately 40 miles long by 65 mileswide, this salty pan is the remnant of a dried lake thatevaporated 12 million years ago, when a continentalshift altered the slope of the land and the direction ofits contributing rivers’ flow. The pan now holdswater only for a few months after the December-March rainy season. Then a collection of contactsprings, water-level springs, and artesian springsquench the thirsts of the region’s lions, giraffes, hye-nas, cheetahs, elephants, zebras, black rhino, severalspecies of antelope and over 340 species of birds.

After many months of dry, parching heat, the water-ing holes are the central marketplace for the wild. Avisitor cannot walk or hike in Etosha Park for safetyreasons, but sitting in a car at a water hole is suffi-cient to view all of Etosha’s proliferation of wildlife.After a day’s viewing, spectators sitting around thecampfire tell many tales of death and survival wit-nessed at the holes. You’ll leave Etosha with bucketsfull of film rolls, a heavy coating of white salty pandust, and an expression of deep wonder on your face.

To the north and west of Etosha lies the land I fell inlove with, Kaokoland, one of the most exquisite andremote reaches of Southern Africa. Kaokoland ishostile to civilization: it fights every way we mortalsattempt to leash it. This hostility is Kaokoland’s sav-ior, and its fragility is its beauty.

Beautiful

• Pretty yellow wildflowers blanket the white rocky ground

• The Kunene River flows ever so serenely within its banks.

• The jungle life along the Kunene’s banks is beautifully lush.

• You’re free to travel anywhere you like: there are no fences,walls, or trespassing laws.

• The mopane trees have lovely butterfly-shaped pairs of leaves.

• Mopane worms are edible to the Himba and quite nutritious.

Hostile

• That yellow wildflower is called Devil’s Thorn. It’s not edible

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even to goats.

• The Kunene is filled with crocodiles.

• Malaria

• The quicksand here can swallow an entire car. Flash floodswash out the roads and leave behind boulders and axle-crunching, oil-pan-punching rocks.

• Mopane trees bring mopane worms, two inches long and halfan inch thick.

• Mopane worms bring snakes with deadly neurotoxic venoms.If a snake out here bites you, you’ll die. There are no doctorsor hospitals for hours or even days.

The Himba people of Kaokoland are striking. They’re still livingwith their tribal traditions as they have for hundreds or thousandsof years. They’ve only been exposed to modern society since the1980’s, and still used stone tools until recently. The Himba stillwear their traditional dress. The women have beautiful, ornatelybraided extensions and decorative cowhide hairpieces; they adornthemselves with lovely, handmade ostrich-shell jewelry and forclothing they wear merely a leather skirt. They coat their bodieswith ochre paste that tints their skin a glowing orange. Sadly, thetribal leaders believe that they will be the last generation to live bytheir customs. Many of the young Himba are leaving for jobs andthe excitement of the cities. Lighter, cooler Western fabrics arereplacing the leather skirts.

For three months, I lived and worked south of Kaokoland andeast of Etosha, at Etendeka Mountain Camp in NorthernDamaraland. This land is capped with one of the largest stretchesof lava in the world, from eruptions 300 million years ago. As faras the eye can see, from mountaintops and escarpments to lowplains, the terrain is covered with oxidized, highly ferrous (andtherefore red) rock. Ferocious seasonal winds from the southeastblow away any dust, soil, or chips from the larger volcanic rocks,leaving behind densely scattered, stumbling stones that twist theheartiest of hikers’ ankles and force all two-legged creatures tostick to the beaten paths. Low rainfall, coupled with this inhos-pitable soil, prevent grasses and other less hearty vegetation fromtaking root here. Instead, the landscape is dotted with with pale,dusty-green Euphorbia Damarana bushes that provide stark con-trast to the burgundy magma. These large, dense bushes, perhaps2 meters high by 4 meters wide, are wonderful safe havens forsmaller desert life like honey badgers, monitor lizards and deserthares. Their spiny stems, when snapped off, ooze with a poiso-nous sticky milk that is inedible to all but kudu and black rhino. Ahalf-crushed Euphorbia bush is an instant giveaway that either arhino or an elephant softened its night’s sleep with it; how recent asleep it was can be determined by the freshness of the milky sap atthe tips of the broken branches. The desert elephants will travelup to 70 kms to reach a water source and are a special treat to spotduring dry seasons.

The "elephant" of flora is the renowned Welwitschia Mirabilisplant found in some hidden spots around Damaraland. Theseplants are ancient beasts of 1000 years or more. They are not inthe aloe or cactus families as might be suspected, but of theconifer family. Thumbnail-sized charcoal black cones are sprinkledaround the split between its two broad gnarled and twisted aloe-like leaves, often 12 feet long. Survival depends on a mate nearby

providing smaller male seeds.

One last plant holds a special place in my heart. Every evening inthe fall months at Etendeka, as I walked along the red gravel pathfrom my cabin to the dining area of the camp, I smelled a deli-cious and powerful fragrance that permeated the valley. Theowner had never identified it in his 10 years there, and onlyshrugged it off as the desert grasses at dusk. My persistence paidoff. On my way from cabin to dinner one night, I caught a sniffof the lovely mystery perfume. I stopped dead in my tracks andinsisted that my flashlight reveal the source of such delight.There, in the midst of nowhere-and-nothing, was a single wispyfoot-high thread of a plant with about three quarter-inch widebeige blossoms, much like baby’s breath. When I bent down tointerrogate it with my nose, it announced with full-trumpeted sym-phony that IT was the source of the glorious desert perfume!Monsonia, that wonderful little ugly duckling, turned into desertglory. Monsonia, I’ll forever love its fragrance at Etendeka,Damaraland.

I have many tales to tell around the campfire from my time atEtendeka, from surviving elephant and black rhino attacks, to fol-lowing the first migration of lions to the camp in 10 years; fromtracking collared lions by microlight to the death of my best friendthere.

The African desert is the Biblical wilderness, the wilderness ofMoses, of Isaac, of Jesus. That wilderness brought me back to theessence of my purpose on this planet: the wilder-ness. There Ifound a loneliness that felt more robust and alive than any of myhappiest moments in the "civilized" world. That wilderness is thebirthplace of creation. There I could really hear, could reallybreathe in my presence on Earth and my connection with life.Nothing is senseless or meaningless or cruel there; it all has a life-giving purpose. There is order in wilderness, the order of nature.It is still alive…in A-FRI-CA….

Judy Kendall will be leading a private 2_ week tour of Namibia inApril, 2003, dates to be determined with participants. Interested

parties may e-mail her at [email protected] or phoneher at (510)612-8710. Space is limited, but preference will be givento Desert Survivors members.

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By Ron Cohen, San Francisco, CA

The share taxi was to leave in about ten minutes for the fourhour ride to the very small town of Zagora, the entrance tothe Atlas Mountains of Morocco. Here we would spend

five days trekking in the desert, a desert very similar in appearanceand character to the Mojave of California. The Atlas Mountainseventually merge with the enormous, majestic, barren dunes of theSahara. From Zagora, one could embark on a journey all the wayto Timbuktu , in the country of Mali, many hundreds of milesfrom here.

This desert trek had not been on our itinerary but, with indepen-dent travel, the unexpected arrives. Jan met the owners of atrekking company in a café while I was out looking for our night’slodging. On my return, I was informed of the impending trip,which would begin in two days. That night we went to town topurchase provisions such as fuel, flour, fruit, vegetables, cookies,sugar, mint leaves for tea and, most importantly, water.

The next morning at 6 a.m., we meet our three camels and guideZayaid. Zayaid had the most beautiful dark skin, with wrinkles oflife on his face, each one with a tale of his nomadic existence.During the next five days we would realize how kind, caring andgentle his soul was, rare amongst humans. Born in a family ofnomadic travelers, the desert was his home, and he knew its topog-raphy, its bends and curves, better than anyone. We needed nocompasses or topo maps, just Zayaid’s knowledge and his specialconnection to the desert.

We mounted the camels, our desert taxis for the next five days.Adorned with saddlebags carrying all we needed for survival, webegan to ride. After one mile our camel riding days were over, nowonly forty-nine miles left to walk. The motion of riding made ussea sick, where no ocean was to be found. Zayaid was astonishedthat we wanted to walk. I forgot to mention that Zayaid did notcommunicate in any language that could be understood by Jan orI. Over the next five days we would become very articulate in thesilent language of pantomime.

On our first day, we walked a total of 6 miles in an easterly direc-tion, from 7 a.m. to 11 a.m. The heat of the sun and sand searedour souls, and we stopped for a long siesta. We rested in what littleshade we could find created by small trees and brush. At about

three p.m. we started to walk again, and walked until 6 p.m. Thesun was setting and the air felt cool and dry on our parched skin.We had completed a day’s journey, about 10 miles. The terrain wastypical Mojavian in appearance, smooth substrate in some areas,rocky and erratic in others, but it was flat. There were no washes,alluvial fans or bajadas, and few animals or plants, but it was stillbeautiful, tranquil and romantic.

In our camp in the middle of nowhere, Zayaid prepared a wonder-ful dinner, complete with Moroccan mint tea. The tea ritual wasfascinating. Skillful preparation produced a delicious but verysweet tea. Zayaid adjusted the flavor four times before he was sat-isfied that the correct balance of sweetness and mint flavor hadbeen achieved.

It was time to put a glorious day to rest. Overhead, millions ofstars filled the heavens. No tent, no sounds, no bugs, no airplanes:pure silence. By the light of the moon, I could see the camelsreclining on their haunches to enjoy their rest in the tranquility ofthe desert night.

Our third day proved to be the most interesting and challengingfor us. We were very low on water and had, at most, one day’swater left. Running out of water in this dry, hot desert would be adisaster. Our inability to communicate with Zayaid now seemed tothreaten our survival, and we had to trust him. In about twomiles, Zayaid led us to a true desert oasis, complete with trees forshade and a well for water -- we were saved! However, when wedrew the water from the well, we found it was extremely cloudyand had particulate matter floating in it. Zayaid filled four 5-gallonbottles with this water. We motioned to him that we could notdrink this water, that it would make us extremely ill. He did notseem to understand and I thought we were finished. I wanted topour out the water to make a statement, something to convinceZayaid of our dilemma. We deliberated what to do, but we did notwant to anger him because we needed him, and we also neededclear water to drink. We continued to walk and, after another mile,came to another group of trees with another well. Out of theground we drew crystal clear water. Zayaid had known all the time,we realized: he knew what we had been trying to communicateand he also knew that we would find this liquid gold of the desertjust one mile ahead. I again showed Zayaid that the water in theold bottles would make us sick and he started to laugh, and laughhard. Then he showed us that the dirty water was for washing thecamels, not to drink. I am sure he thought us ignorant, two peoplewith no idea of where they were going next. Re-stocked with plen-ty of water to finish the trip, we made camp a few hours later, nowrelaxed and feeling secure.

The scenery on days four and five was delightfully picturesque,with panoramic views. As the trip came to an end and we saw ourhome in the distance, we realized we had become enamored withthe desert and our guide. Five days in a beautiful barren land andyet, as we all know, the desert is really very lush. It is amazing howthe desert has the ability to invade your soul with its silence,expansive space, majestic mountains and mystery.

The memories of those five days are eight years old, yet they con-tinue to excite me. I know I will never forget that journey.

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Five Days in the Moroccan Desert


Lava Beds CarcampJune 28-30, 2002, Tulelake, Northeastern CA

By Steve Tabor, Alameda, CA

With twenty participants, the Lava Beds Carcamp wasanother popular trip to a popular place. We did severalhikes in the National Monument, then spent the third

day in higher country near Medicine Lake. The air was hot, butnot unbearably so, and cool breezes helped quite a bit in mid-after-noon.

We met at the Visitor Center near the main caves loop, then didshort hikes in the well-lit caves nearby: Mushpot Cave and IndianWell. Mushpot exhibited most of the elements of lava tubes in thepark, all within a very short distance. We saw "frozen" lava spat-ters (cooled in place), sweeping lava flow marks along the walls,dripstone on the ceiling, and rubble rafted along on the bottom,now solid. We followed the curving tube to its end,where the lava had ponded behind a roof cave-in, thendisappeared down a hole. No way to follow it, so weturned back.

Indian Well Cave across the road was a giant window,opened out by a cave-in. Its bottom was a jumble ofrock. We could have followed into it, but we were slat-ed to do a ranger-led walk a few minutes later. Themouth of the cave was populated with some very fra-grant specimens of "desert sweet," a white-floweredshrub with pungent leaflets loaded with volatile oils.Wildflowers were blooming in the open.

We then drove to Skull Cave Road and joined a volun-teer ranger on a hike to two more caves: Big PaintedCave and Symbol Bridge. The ranger filled us in on thecommon names for many of the plants and explainedthe Monument's volcanic history. Both caves hadIndian pictographs on the walls, mostly abstract design.They were likely used in ceremonies, though their sig-nificance has been lost. It is even possible that theyhad been painted by tribes other than those living inthe area when Europeans invaded.

In the afternoon, we drove to Merrill Ice Cave for aranger-led tour. Unfortunately, we had not signed up atthe Visitor Center, but the ranger graciously allowedsome of our group in while I led the rest on a two-hour jaunt on the Whitney Butte Trail. The trail gaveus a good look at the sagebrush-juniper ecosystem thatcurrently prevails on top of the rolling lava plateau.Occasional lava rims poked through, most more than50,000 years old. Hiking these trails on the openplateau gives one a feeling of space and possibility.

When we returned to Merrill Cave, the ranger did aspecial tour for those of us who remained. Merrill isan ice cave that has lost a great deal of its ice in thepast few years, and no one seems to know why. Awinding staircase leads down into the cave, which isvery deep. The temperature hovers around 32-34

degrees F. all year round. Below, we could see the white ice acrossthe bottom. A twelve-foot wide hole had melted in the center.Park officials measure the changes from year to year, but can reallydo nothing to stop the melting. It was thought that too frequentvisitation may have done some of the damage, so now only a cou-ple of tours are conducted each week. Also interesting were stainshigh above near the ceiling, marks left by the ice when it oncefilled the cave to its brim, probably during the "Little Ice Age"from

1600 to 1840 A.D.

On the second day, we set up a car shuttle at Hospital Rock at thenorth end of the Monument, then drove back to Skull Cave for a9.4 mile hike across the plateau in the Monument's vast easternWilderness Area. The whole group was involved in this, and wequickly split up into a fast faction intent on lots of hiking, and aslow group interested in photography and wildflowers. I led theslow group. The first group got to the end by 1:00 pm. The rest

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of us arrived at

5:30 pm. Which group of hikers enjoyed themselves more is asubjective question.

As the six or eight of us lollygagged along on the trail, we notedmany wildflowers, including various buckwheats, variousPentstemons and Phacelias, locoweeds, pincushion flowers,lupines, and the rarest of all, Mariposa lilies. The latter were strik-ingly beautiful! Also nice were the grasses: native bunchgrasseslike needlegrass and grama, and good stands of foxtail grass.Junipers gave ample shade when we needed it. Open views wereinspiring at all times. With temperatures in the high 70s F. and astiff breeze, who could ask for more?

In the early evening, a small group of us headed for SchonchinButte, a nearby cinder cone, for a long view out over theMonument's center. Schonchin is isolated and elevated, and has alookout cabin on top. From the top, you can see the anatomy ofthe eruption below, where fresh basalt lava emitted from the baseof the cone in two places and spread out over the landscape. Wewere late enough to see and photograph long shadows over thelava rims to the north and west, but too early for the sunset, whichsome of the group interpreted as an oversight in planning. Later,other hikers did Schonchin at sunset and enjoyed a colorful skyshow.

The next day, some of the hikers went back home. The rest of uspacked up, got in the cars, and headed toward Medicine Lake onthe forested plateau to the south. At 6000-7000 feet in elevation,this plateau would be cooler than where we'd been so far. It alsoexhibited its own volcanic features to explore. We stopped at thenorth end of the Medicine Lake lava flow, actually a plug dome ofblack and grey rhyolite, some of it glassy obsidian. We climbedaround on the rock awhile, noting the huge trees growing on it,most from cracks in the rock. Western white pine and lodgepolepine were the main trees, with some ponderosa also. Mountainshrubs like chinquapin, cinquefoil and mountain spray grew in therocks, along with a different kind of Penstemon and other wild-flowers. From the top of the flow, we had a view out over thelake to the south and to forested crests all around its small basin.The rest of the flow was too blocky and unstable for further hikes,so we went back to the cars and drove to Medicine Lake for lunch.

At the lakeshore, we ate lunch and enjoyed the ambience: deepgreen trees, wide blue water, a bluer sky above. After lunch weswam awhile in the lake. The water was warm and quite refresh-ing. My car mates and I started back early, though others drovefurther to the east and investigated another rhyolite-obsidian flow,Glass Mountain.

Lava Beds is a good place for car campers who like their exploringlaid-back and easy. The campground is open most all of the year,and birding is reputed to be good at Tule Lake to the north inmid-winter. The Visitor Center offers so much information thatyou can plan your own ambience, and you can skip the HappyHour disputations.

Waucoba Peak BackpackJuly 4-7, 2002, Inyo Mountains, CA

By Paul Menkes, Berkeley, CA

Bristlecone Pines, steep and rough mountains and awesomevistas were the main pleasures on this trip to the InyoMountains, led by David Halligan. Eight Survivors enjoyed

what turned out to be a moderately paced four-day trip.

We met high up on the Badger Flat plateau in the Inyo. It was verydry. From Badger Flat we hiked east into Tamarack Canyon, fol-lowing the remains of an old four wheel drive road. We hikedslowly, pausing often to look at plants. One small tree excited a lotof interest. Grant thought it might be a ribes of some sort, as didDave M. Dina later did some research and concluded it was amountain maple (acer glabrum var. diffsum). We also started look-ing at the first examples of bristlecone and limber pines. We wouldbe spending the next four days amidst their splendor.

Eventually we left the canyon and started trending south-south-east. The track here gets faint to non-existent. But we did not haveto think about where were heading, thanks to Grant, who was veryfamiliar with the route. He got us right on track to a canyon wherethere is a ruined log cabin. It is not marked on the 7.5-minute map(though it is marked on the old 15-minute map).

We kept hiking until we reached a saddle at the head of WaucobaCanyon. There we camped in the bristlecone pines, near an oldcow camp. We had plenty of flat spots and lots of bristle duff,which made for lovely sleeping, and had easy access to many lovelyvistas, both east towards Waucoba Peak and Waucoba Canyon, andwest looking at the steep bristlecone woodlands.

The next morning we hiked up to Waucoba Peak. The mountainlies east of the main crest. We followed another old road (this onein much better shape) along the ridgeline towards the peak. Alongthe way we passed by many lovely stands of mountain mahogany.We saw mountain bluebirds and pinyon jays. And we saw cows.While Waucoba lies in designated wilderness, it still has a substan-tial grazing allotment within it.

The top of the peak is spectacular. It is a large, broad hump withbristlecones at the edges. Mathilde, a brand-new member fromParis, France, on her first desert trip, was especially excited by thesummit views. We could see the Eureka and Saline mountains, upand down the spine of the White-Inyo range, the Sierra Nevada,and more besides. We spent a long time on the summit beforeheading back.

Back at the saddle by Waucoba Canyon, we took a detour down toSidehill Spring, which is a 700-foot descent. After getting water, wehauled ourselves back up to camp and enjoyed our dinner.

The next day everybody but me headed south along the crest toBlue Peak. I went back to Waucoba Peak to recover my camera lefton the summit. Even though I had just hiked it the day before itwas an interesting walk. The peak was quiet and lovely. An addedbonus was seeing three bighorn near the summit.

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After the rest of the group visited Blue Peak, David H. andMathilde headed back to camp, while Greg, Dina, Bob, Grant, andDave M. continued south on the ridgeline. They came across along ridge that is unnamed on the maps and heavily wooded withbristlecones. At the highpoint they found a summit register with afew names in it. The informal name is Paradise Peak and, from allreports, it is quite wonderful, with great views and a lovely bristle-cone forest. The enthusiasm of everyone who went made three ofus plan to come back again next year and explore the eastsidecanyons and visit the peak.

That evening we headed down to the saddle to watch the sunsetover the Sierra Nevada. I have personally never seen a sunset soover the top as that one. After the sun sank behind clouds, thenbehind Mt. Humphreys on the Sierra Crest, rays shot in an arcupward, as if it were a gigantic laser show, and the gray cloudsbecame yellow and pink. The entire group spent 30 minutes ooh-ing and ahh-ing until the last bit of color left the sky.

Our trip ended the next day by heading back via TamarackCanyon. We had all connected or reconnected to the Inyo, thespiritual home to Desert Survivors and a very special place.

Rhyolite Ridge Carcamp

July 26-28, 2002, Western NV

By Steve Tabor, Alameda, CA

This three-day carcamp to the Silver Peak Range east ofYosemite was a hot one. Hot air drained our energythroughout, especially on the first day, when we enjoyed

only meager shade. The warm pools at Fish Lake Hot Spring pro-vided welcome relief when we needed it, and

old trails from yesteryear made for intriguing route-finding, tweak-ing my curiosity for more visitation in the years to come.

I had long been intrigued by the colorful volcanic rock west ofEmigrant Peak, which is visible from a long way off. On the firstday, we met on U.S. Route 6 north of Fish Lake Valley, then droveon a dirt road west of the north end of the range. We parked bythe side of the road, then took off across the fan in a northerlydirection. It was two and one-half miles to the base of the hills,

and we lost no time getting started.

On this first part of day one, we were walking away from the sun.The greenery in the vegetation convinced me that a thunderstormhad passed this way recently. In a normal year, the brush would bedry this late in the season and would have lost its leaves, but eventhe greasewood was bright green. We found traces of human set-tlement in odd places on the fan, probably left over from somegold rush or other.

We rested at the base of the hills, then hiked farther in, choosing agulch that drained the west side of Emigrant. By now, we werefeeling the heat. Nobody had much energy for a peak climb. Infact, we were frantically looking for a shady place to cool ourheels. In doing so, we hiked up into and out of several gulches incolorful mudhills. The hills were dominated by a rich rust-redcolor, but there were also black, grey, brown and cream-coloredhills. The color was even better than I'd expected. Getting on topfor a view, we saw a blocky outcrop with a narrow shade stripbelow a vertical cliff. We headed for it quickly, intent on a drink, abite and a snooze. We enjoyed all three, and none too soon either!

After lunch, we hiked around to the south side of the outcrop anddropped down the red shale slope behind to the gulch below.That gulch and the fan beyond comprised our route back to thecars. In the bottom, we hiked through volcanic rock into lime-stone and shale, passing a band of curious crystalline rock, felsiteor granite, below the sedimentaries. Soon we were out in theopen, hiking southwest into the sun. It was hot on our bodies,and got hotter as we descended the fan. We hiked quickly, intend-ing to spend as little time in the sunshine as possible. I walkedwith my thermometer out. The temperature fluctuated between96 and 104 degrees F. It was hard to tell which was accurate; if itwas 104 F., that would be a record for my trips. It certainly feltthat hot. By the time we reached the cars, the pretty red volcanicoutcrops were a distant memory, replaced by a desire for shadeand coolness.

We drove as rapidly as possible to Fish Lake Hot Springs for a dip.I was really looking forward to it. The air temperature was 96 F.The hot pool, the one with the concrete tub, was 106 F. The twoponds adjacent were 95 F. and 83 F. respectively. The lower poolscollect runoff from the hot pool and are subject to cooling fromthe air, so the water temperatures fluctuate with the seasons. Wespent most of our time in the cooler pools, with their populationsof bright orange carp and razor sharp water weeds that madeswimming difficult.

Refreshed and cooled, we drove southeast across the valley on thegraded dirt Mineral Ridge Road. On the way, we passed wild hors-es grazing out in the saltgrass. The road led us into Cave SpringCanyon on a pleasant drive, no problem even for passenger cars.Ten miles from the hot tub, we came to Cave Spring Cowcamp. Itwas an intriguing place for a camp, barren of vegetation due tointensive cattle grazing, stripped of all edible plants and coveredover with pulverized dried cow manure. Still, it was interesting forits old stone cabin, dynamic cliff rock, and flowing spring. Thecamp was right in the blazing sun, without even a single tree forshade, but a quick reconnaissance upstream had produced nothingbetter.

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We hid behind the vehicles for shade, then cooked dinner. Thesun finally set, but by that time nobody felt like a campfire. Weneeded the cool air of night, not the warmth of flames. We sataround candle lanterns and retired early. Tomorrow would be along day.

In the morning, we began a circumnavigation of Rhyolite Ridge byclimbing a high bank to the east. We ended up in a narrow defileending at a series of high cliffs peeling off the top of the ridge.There was no spring despite the map's allegation, so we continuedacross the base of the ridge to the next drainage, a huge trenchcutting back into the ridge with willows and wild roses in twoplaces. We bypassed this and headed farther along to the mainwash that led east.

These first two hours, we were in deep shade. Now, as the sunrose, we were in trouble. It was hot hiking in loose sand and peb-bles. We stopped for a rest, then hiked farther up, taking an earlylunch under a huge juniper. Here near the head of the canyon, wewere in Utah-style

terrain, surrounded by red and black and cream-colored outcropsdraped with dark green junipers and pinyon. We turned up theright fork, passing a beautiful cream and yellow buttress thatlooked for all the world like the Navajo Sandstone, complete withgreen trees growing in cracks and exfoliating rinds of rock peelingoff rounded surfaces. Following the drainage, we achieved thecanyon head with a view down off the east side of the range to

Big Smoky Valley below. And smoky it was! Visibility was poor,less than twenty miles, partly from California fires and partly froma curious temperature inversion that made the air murky andheavy. We rested here for more than an hour, exhausted by theheat and the sun's rays. It was good to lay down.

Later, we hiked south around the next rock knob and obtained aview of the ridges to the southeast and south. I pointed out anold jeep trail that would take us back to Cave Spring, but when westarted in that direction, I saw an old trail at the base of RhyoliteRidge that led

around to the southwest. I said, "Let's take it! Let's see where itgoes!" If it didn't pan out, we could modify our route to go theother way.

We were not disappointed. This was a great trail, put in probablyby prospectors or the Army in the 1800s, kept open since by deerand wild horses. The trail led under a magnificent arch, thenacross terraces and hillsides, into gulches and back out. We lost itonce, then regained it. It stayed high above the base of themountain, where we had excellent views. While on the trail, welooked down and saw a couple of four-wheel-drives on the jeeptrail. What a boring plod that would have been, compared to ourcurrent brush with history! We were in the tracks of the old onesand the wild horses now, much superior to the jeep track showingon the map.

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We followed the trail through the trees and brush. It led, as I sus-pected, right to the next water source, North Spring, halfway downoff the mountain at 7100'. The spring supported a small meadow.Water ran from a pipe into a small wooden trough. A couple ofus sampled the water and it was good. Wild horse tracks were allover the place. I noted it on the map, possibly for a future back-pack trip. It would be especially good if this trail linked up withanother that I suspect runs (or ran) right across the valley to theopposite rim.

From North Spring, we had a long view across the open inner val-ley at the head of Cave Spring Creek. Red Mountain (8957')anchors the ridge to the south. A long ridge runs along the eastside culminating in a peak at elevation 8380'. The valley is a rec-tangle roughly two miles on a side. Only Mineral Ridge Road anda couple of spurs running through it mar the sense of open wild-ness, and most persons driving through don't even get out of theircars. The view of Red Mountain, sticking way up, is especiallyimpressive.

The hike after North Spring was an anti-climax. We went back tothe cars as fast as we pleased, knowing it was all downhill, and tak-ing our shade where we could. The north side of Rhyolite Ridgealong the road was photogenic also, with the same Utah-esquelandforms, with colorful yellow, lavender and grey rhyolite in placeof sandstone. Rock layers were horizontal, stacked on top of oneother, extending out into the canyon in rounded buttresses, punc-tuated by sharp cliffs and deep clefts interrupted by little dry falls.This day's hike made me nostalgic for Utah in its early days, beforethe off-roaders took over, before the hordes of hikers brought onby Michael Kelsey and his never-ending series of saturation-levelhiking guides.

We headed for higher country on the last day, as we had done onthe Lava Beds trip. Some of the hikers left. The rest of us droveto Coyote Summit on Mineral Ridge Road for a climb of RedMountain. We started up the ridge on the south side of the peak,but soon ran out of energy. There was little enthusiasm for along, tough hike after the previous day's exertions so, when wefound a trail cutting across the peak's west side, we took it. Thiswas another old trail with brush and mature trees growing acrossand even in it. It almost assuredly belonged to the 19th century,and I couldn't help thinking that it may have been the continuationof the trail we had been on as we skirted Rhyolite Ridge. Thatwould be a treat, to connect the two up someday.

We struggled through dense trees, losing the trail, then regaining it.At one point, we became separated, and had to call for each otherthrough the trees. We came upon a lovely little rattlesnake in thewoods, curled around a stump. It even rattled, a rarity nowadays.At 8200', it was one of the highest elevation rattlers I've encoun-tered. We found many cut stumps from the old mining days, whenwood was used in the mining camps for heating and for thesmelters. We reached timberline on the ridge just below the hugebulk of Red Mountain. We were above the trees in Nevada'supper sagebrush community, windblown and barren, too dry forponderosa pine and too cold for pinyons. We stopped for a shortlunch and enjoyed the view across the inner valley toward RhyoliteRidge. Craig King decided to go back to the cars by climbing the

peak; he was fresh and strong, not having done the thirteen-milehike of the previous day. The rest of us retraced our tracks to thecars.

On the way out, we stopped at the hot springs again for a swim, asrefreshing as ever. Then we headed home, enjoying fresh air blow-ing over us through the car windows. We'd experienced enoughheat for the weekend.

The Silver Peak Range offers lots of hiking opportunities. Mostof it is good even in summer because of the ample shade. TheDesert Trail passes through the western half, but this eastern halfalso has its charms. Someday I'll be back to do the mystery trailson a backpack, to see where they go. There is ample water at sev-eral of the springs, which makes even midsummer backpackingeasier. On the topos I can see a long looping route that passesthrough North

Spring and over the windswept ridges west of Piper Peak, rightalong the crestline. I think I'll get out my map measurer and cal-culator to find out just how feasible it is, how many ups anddowns, and how long. As for the views from the ridgeline, it'sfutile to try measuring

those, except in units of inspiration.

Bodie Ghost TownAugust 16-18, 2002, Bodie, CA

By Jessica A. Ward

Nine Desert Survivors met in the Bodie parking lot andwaited patiently for our trip leader, Bob, to show up. Tenminutes passed, then twenty, then thirty, and finally forty.

The Survivors who were there -- Allan and his daughter Angela,Kelly, Loretta, and Loretta’s grandchildren Cody, Denver, Lil' Jess,Warren and me, were wondering where Bob was and whether ornot to start without him. Finally, we spotted Bob’s VolkswagenBus and the trip officially started.

We debated whether we should explore the ghost town or find acampsite first. We decided that we would find our campsite firstdue to the fact that a large group of historical preservationists,nicknamed the Red Shirts, were also in Bodie and we didn't wantour spot taken. We drove about two and a half miles on the roadto Mesonic and then took the first left turn up a dirt road. We hadto get up a sandy hill, which was difficult for some of the cars.After we all got up the hill, we had to drive over a rocky area,which also didn't agree with some of the vehicles. We marked ourterritory by parking the cars and setting up a tent.

After that we ate lunch and Bob talked to everyone about rat-tlesnakes, ticks, and other dangers. Bob then asked who would betaking notes to write the trip description, and Loretta volunteeredme. Around 1:30, when everyone was finished eating and every-thing was put up and away, we drove back to Bodie to explore thetown. We went off in a couple different groups and observed theaged buildings. Although none of us went, there was also a tour to

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Paul Menkes taking a break in Ash Meadows


explore a stamp mill. When everyone met up again, we drove backto the campsite where it was decided that we would go on a smallthree-mile hike to a river.

Bob and Mari drove the Bus to the river while the rest of uswalked along the dirt road. When we were almost there, Bob andMari drove back and told us they couldn't find any water. So we allpiled into the bus and rode back to the campsite. The kids rockclimbed for a while and then a fire was started and the kids sataround it and told scary (disturbing and grotesque) stories, whileeating dinner. The adults then took over the campfire and talkedabout several different things when the kids went to sleep. Theydispersed at about 10:30 when they began to get tired.

Getting up the next morning was very slow and it took everyoneawhile to get their food, water, and everything else together for thehike. When everyone was ready, a couple of us walked down thehill and waited for everyone else to come down in Bob’s bus.When they didn't come down, Warren and Loretta went ahead,while Alan, Angie, Kelly and I waited a little longer for the bus.After a couple minutes cloud of dust was seen and Bob'sVolkswagen started down the hill. They picked up those who hadwaited at the bottom of the hill, and then proceeded to pick upWarren and Loretta.

Trying to find the trailhead, Bob drove down a somewhat steepincline and Loretta started to panic. It wasn't until we got downthe incline that Bob realized it wasn't the right road, and turnedaround to go back up. Loretta was terrified as the bus started backup and, when it got stuck, she flung herself out of the vehicle.The Volkswagen got up without mishap and, leaving Angie andLoretta who wanted to walk, drove further up the road. Bob andMari dropped the rest of us off there and then went to park theVolkswagen further up the road.

Those of us who had gotten dropped off waited for Loretta andAngie. When they caught up, we all proceeded down a hill, wherewe were supposed to meet Bob and Mari. When we got there, wewaited for a while thinking that Bob and Mari hadn't gotten thereyet. After about twenty minutes we decided to go on ahead. Abouta mile up the trail, we ran into Bob who had just started back tolook for us. He took us back to where Mari was waiting, and aftera quick break we continued on our way.

We walked until we found a nice spot by the stream where we atelunch and some of the hikers dipped their feet in the water. Thetrail and lunch stop were very dusty and bug infested. After we fin-ished eating we continued walking. As we went on, we began tosee paw prints on the trail. It took us awhile to figure it out, butwe (mainly Bob) came to the conclusion that it was a bear print,unusual for that area. As we neared the point where we were sup-posed to make the loop back around, we spotted an old cabin andwent to explore it. The cabin was in bad shape, the wood was rot-ted and one of the walls had fallen apart. Outside the cabin, therewere a couple trees with writing carved into the bark; we came tothe assumption that it was a sheepherder's shack.

We went on ahead but, after we'd climbed down a rocky inclineand walked alongside the water, we realized the underbrush wastoo thick to continue. We decided that it was best to turn around

and go the way we'd come. The trip back was less eventful and thedust and heat were something of a torture to a few of us. As weneared the Volkswagen, a couple people began to get low onwater, but we made it back without anyone keeling over fromdehydration.

Everyone rode in the Volkswagen back to camp, where some ofthe adults rested, some talked, and the kids played on the rocksagain. That night was pretty much the same; the kids went to bedafter dinner, and the adults talked around the campfire. They chat-ted, once more, about many different things, until Bob fell asleepat the fire. The next morning consisted of everyone packing his orher things and getting ready to leave, and saying goodbye.

Jessica Ward, 14, has been on half a dozen DS trips with hergrandmother, Loretta Bauer. This is her first contribution to theSurvivor.

Lunar Crater Carcamp

August 31-September 1, 2002, Central NV

By Steve Tabor

This carcamp to an exotic terrain in Central Nevada was ashowcase of volcanic geology. We witnessed two genera-tions of eruptions: an early rhyolite sequence, now much

cut by basin and range faults, and a more recent sequence ofexplosion pits ("maars") and cinder cones with basalt lava. A pairof geology maps and a short monograph helped with the interpre-tation. Benign weather also helped; the intense heat of summerwas largely gone.

We did our first hike up a gentle trail to the rim of Easy Chair.The crater was about one-third of a mile wide, and had a flat floorwith a small clay pan in the center. The interior was fairly steep,but only a little bit cliffy. There was no lava at the base, nor weretheir any cinders on the sides. These are characteristics of maars,which are formed during steam explosions, not traditional erup-tions. The theory is that hot gasses rise on fissures into a moistsubsurface, causing steam to form and vent explosively.

In the case of both Easy Chair and Lunar, the explosions torethrough the valley floor and lava beds just beneath, showering thesurrounding area with debris derived from the older flows. Oncethe steam is vented, the event has ended. The only lava exposed is

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what shows in the sides of the pit from the previous eruption.Both craters are aligned along fissures and are backed by cindercones aligned on the same fissures. At Easy Chair, we hiked upthe cinder cone adjoining the west rim and climbed to the top,where we had a great view of the volcanic field to the east, southand west. Both east and west were long linear ridges of 25-mil-lion-year-old rhyolite, separated by faults that are parallel to the fis-sures aligning the cindercones and maars, roughly at 40 degreeseast of north. Also to the east, we could see the bright whiteexpanse of Lunar Lake, which would later be the site of our camp.To the west was Palisade Mesa, where we would hike two dayshence. Directly south was Lunar Crater, at the base of anothercinder cone. Its rim could just barely be seen.

After gazing at the scenery to the south, we walked north alongthe ridge for a short distance to look out over the plain. On theother side of Route 6 was a fresher basalt flow and cone, probablyonly a few thousand years old. We could also see the northernpart of the Pancake Range, the site of my late September fossilhunt in the limestones. In late morning, we hiked down off thecinder cone onto the east rim of Easy Chair. It was a steep bearto descend. We were slipping and sliding on loose cinders, roundvolcanic bombs and rubble.

When we reached the cars, we drove back out to the main gradedroad and headed south to Lunar Crater. We ate lunch on the rim,right out in the sun without trying to hide from it. The tempera-ture was a balmy 86 F. at an elevation of 6002'. In the afternoon,we hiked down into the crater on a rough route discovered by hik-ers Bob Wallace and Alan Brown. They'd dived right into thecrater without eatinglunch. Afterward, mostof the rest of us followedthem. The route wentdown through a loose andrubbly crack in the mainflow around the rim,dropping over short rockcliffs and loose talus. Wehad to be careful, movingthrough one at a time. Atlength, we got to easierterrain and dropped tothe bottom, which wasoccupied by a mud flatgrown to a healthy standof four-wing saltbush. Itwas good to be on stableground. It was an eeriefeeling to be at the bot-tom of the crater, whichwas completely enclosedand rimmed round bybasalt cliffs in almost aperfect circle. The cliffwas broken in only a fewplaces; I began to lookfor ways out. The mostlikely exit, and the mostinteresting part of the

rim, was off to the southwest, where a gulch had formed due toflood waters breaking through both the black basalt and the pinkrhyolite underneath. The maar explosion had blown all the waythrough both. We headed there to find a way out, and also to getinto the shade of the cool vertical walls drained by the gulch. Werested in the shade partway up the wall, enjoying conversation andthe cool water we'd brought. A half hour later, we started up thesides, aiming for a ledge cutting across the next to topmost layer.It was a huffer and puffer for me I took short steps and restedfrequently. The crux of the climb was the narrow two foot wideledge near the top. Once past that, we were okay. On the last rise,I climbed over the rim, stumbled, and put my left hand right intoone of the few small cacti present. Ten minutes later, I had gottenout most of the thirty spines embedded in my hand, using tweez-ers. The rest are still there three weeks later, festering under tinycalluses. At the rim, 430 feet from the bottom, we rested awhile,then hiked around the rim to our cars on the north side. As wedid so, some antelope passed by in the valley to our left. Otherhikers had seen them in the bottom of the crater. Along the way,we found obsidian shards on the rim and many fragments of pinkrhyolite blown out of the crater from the throat of the pit below.It must have been quite an explosion! The geological monographtells of a fragment of granite found here also, probably from sev-eral thousand feet down.

In late afternoon, we drove eastward toward The Wall, our hikingdestination the following day. Farther on, we turned a corner togo north on the graded road. Soon after, we ran into a dust pitoccupying the entire width of the road. It was seemingly bottom-

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less and we were submerged in billowing clouds of dust that cas-caded down all the windows. We were driving through an extend-ed part of the bed of Lunar Lake without even knowing it! Iprayed that we would not hit a rock or bust a wheel rim in anunseen hole, but there was nothing for it but to continue. If westopped, we might run aground or get stuck in the soft stuff. Aneighth of a mile later (it seemed longer), we hit hard dirt again,and I breathed a sigh of relief.

I saw a short road on a beach berm that led to Lunar Lake. I gotout at the lake shore and tested the surface of the playa, whichlooked wet. It was okay, so this would be our camp. Nearby was alittle pool of water! It must have rained sometime in the summer,probably the same rain that had greened up the greasewood in theSilver Peak Range in July. Fresh coyote, kit fox and antelope trackswere impressed in the soft mud. This was a true, if temporary,desert oasis!. As we were leaving the next morning, four antelopecame down to drink at the pool. It was a good sendoff.

The Saturday hike, to the top of The Wall and along its crest, wasa long convoluted one that lasted all day and into the night. Wehiked up a canyon that led to the rim of The Wall, diving behindrocks for shade from time to time. It felt hotter because we werehiking directly into the sun. Early morning is always the worsttime to be in the desert when you're traveling east. We got to thecrest and spent the rest of the day on it, with great views in alldirections. Up at this level, above 6500', we had plenty of trees forshade, but the hike was overlong, drawn-out, and too stressful forsome of the hikers. The farthest point at the south end of theridge was too difficult to get to, and we had to give it up, as we ranout of time in the afternoon. As it was, some of us didn't make itback until after dark (a practice not unknown on DS hikes in thewinter, but rarer in the summer when the days are fourteen hourslong).

I remember much about the hike: the great views, looking downon the slanted and fault-cut mesas to the north and southwest,beautiful stands of junipers on the plateau top, isolated specimensof Mojave mound cactus scattered here and there in the rocks,standing on top of cliff faces trying to figure out the intricatecourses of canyons that may or may not go through. At onepoint, we were forced down between giant fins of rhyolite andaround bulbous masses of rock heavily cut by fissures. Both thetop and sides of the rim had been eroded into fantastic shapes.The place reminded me of Arches National Park with its sand-stone fins, dry falls, domes and pinnacles. Many of the plants wesaw would be more at home in the higher mountains to the north,in the Park or Hot Creek Ranges. At one point, we found a singlemountain ball cactus. It looked like a baseball, 7/8ths buried inthe dirt and covered with short spines.

Once I'd decided to return to the cars, we hiked as fast as wecould to get off the rim. Being out all day, some of us had takenon a lot of heat and sun. Hikers were slowing down, and we hadto wait for them. It was sunset before we emerged from the lastcanyon, and a merciful sunset it was! Partway down, I'd sent thefaster hikers ahead to see if we'd be stopped by dry falls. Theynever came back, so I surmised that they'd made it through. Thatgroup made it back to the cars early, and one of them came backwith his car to pick up the rest of us. By that time, we'd hiked

thirteen and one-half miles; they'd hiked sixteen. A weary groupof hikers sat down to eat that night.

On the last day, we drove to Palisade Mesa for a half day hike toSandy Summit Spring. This misnamed spring is actually four milesfrom Sandy Summit, which is on the highway. We hiked a mile tothe spring, which was located in a narrow cleft cut into the mesa.It was a healthy jaunt, mostly on animal trail, to the lower spring,marked by a swatch of willows. Farther up was another springwith a larger willow patch, where water bubbled out of theground. The drainage had been swept over by a flashflood thatsummer. We hiked another half mile up onto the rim, where wehad a great view back down the cleft and out over the desert. Thetop of the plateau was a hardscrabble surface of bare rock withjuniper trees growing out of fissures. Across the cleft, huge finsand convoluted erosional forms bend down to the edge, the topsof pinnacles resembling the "beehive" erosional form of Utahsandstone, like those on The Wall. In her zeal for exploration, oneof the hikers, 15-year-old Dafna Bitton, strayed into difficult ter-rain, testing her climbing skills as she rose higher. By the timewe'd reached the top, she looked very small amidst all the fins andcliff faces. When we started back, she came down to meet us,reporting on her adventure. Partway up was a cave with owl drop-pings and bones. The climbing had not been that difficult, shesaid. After watching Dafna, both I and her mother were glad thather 11-year-old sister had stayed with the group. The younger girl,Ayelet, had been with us through the length of the previous day,on the thirteen-miler. The 600-foot climb this last day was, there-fore, no big deal for her. Both girls had lots of energy. I'malready lobbying them to become trip leaders.

In our three days, we witnessed most of the elements of the LunarCrater Geological Area. It's a great place for a car camp. Theroads are in pretty good shape: we encountered difficulty only atthe dust pit. Both The Wall and Palisade Mesa are WildernessStudy Areas, as are the many square miles of mesas to the south.A through road, rough in spots, divides the two. There is plentyof room to explore. Even the BLM recommends both forWilderness, probably because the rock is all volcanic and has "nomineral potential."

For information, call or write the Bureau of Land Management,PO Box 911, Tonopah, NV 89049-0911, tel: (775) 482-7800. Thegeology maps are U.S.G.S. Maps I-700 and I-719. There is anexcellent monograph, U.S.G.S. Professional Paper 599-I.

A Tale of Two (Nevada)Springs

By Bill Johansson, Stockton, CA

The very first desert spring I "discovered" was PigeonSpring, west of Lida, Nevada in Esmeralda County. Sincethen I have hiked to several other springs, including Indian

Spring, which is near Pigeon Spring, and Daylight Spring inCalifornia. It is a fascinating hobby, shared I’m sure by other

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desert lovers.

The highlights of my latest trip to Nevada were two springs,Powell Canyon Spring and Double Spring.

In the driest part of summer, in the month of September, myfriend Louie and I headed through the sagebrush of southernMineral County in the Nevada desert to find Powell CanyonSpring. The area we explored is in the Humboldt-Toiyabe NationalForest, south of Hawthorne. We knew we had found the springwhen we saw the lush vegetation. We could not see water, butthere might have been some hidden in the brambles. We hiked upthe main canyon for a while, then we followed a tributary. On theway back I tried again to find water at the surface, to no avail. Thesun broke out for a while, then partly hid behind the clouds.

We later went to find Double Spring, located in Douglas County,Nevada, south of Gardnerville. Despite the name, there are actual-ly three small springs almost right next to each other. The area wastrampled by cows, but there was water! I took a sample from themiddle spring. There is a Nevada Historical Marker just south ofthe springs.

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In an atmosphere of concern for national security and calls forpre-emptive attack, threats to the desert ecosystem remain veryreal. While the Bush administration actively works to protect the"homeland," it continues to undermine the protection of its publiclands, national parks and wilderness regions. Under this adminis-tration, environmental protections and review processes have beenweakened or eliminated altogether. Riding on an approval ratingof 70 percent, President Bush has recently announced his inten-tion to revisit the issue of oil exploration within the ArcticReserve. When our elected representatives consider opposition tobe unpatriotic and political suicide, who will fight to protect theenvironment?

Water Issues: CadizWater Grab ProjectOn August 26th the Department of the Interior signed the Recordof Decision approving the BLM’s granting of a right-of-way ofover 35 miles of desert for the pipeline and powerline to takewater to and from the Cadiz project site. Last November DesertSurvivors filed a protest in regard to the right-of-way analysis.Despite federal regulations requiring prompt notification ofprotest decisions in regard to records of decision, DesertSurvivors has not to date been informed about the dismissal ofour protest. Task force leader Bob Ellis discovered that the mapthat the BLM used to depict the approved pipeline alignment wassignificantly different that the Final EIR alignment map. Both theBLM and Metropolitan Water District (MWD) have stated that thiswas merely an "illustration" error. Both deny that any change wasmade from the Final. They also deny that the alignment depictedon the released map was even studied.

Despite this development, the project is not a sure thing. MWDhas not yet given its final approval. Public hearings are scheduledfor October and the coalition of environmental groups opposingCadiz, which includes Desert Survivors, will testify. Political pres-sure has made the MWD back off somewhat from their earliersupport of this project. It is significant that the issue has receivednational media attention, most recently in the national pages ofthe New York Times on August 31st. In addition, Senator DianneFeinstein has inserted language into the Senate version of theappropriations bill prohibiting the BLM from spending any moneyon the Cadiz project in the fiscal year beginning in October.Letters to Senator Feinstein supporting her actions can only helpher to stand tough in the face of her opponents in the Senate. Alldelays can be beneficial. Cadiz, Inc. is financially weak and, withluck, will go bankrupt before it can implement this disastrousscheme. [See also "Cadiz Project Awaits Final Decision" by LiMiao, this issue – Ed.]

Other Water IssuesSouthern California’s need for more and more water impacts

many regions in the state. California is required under the termsof a 1999 multistate agreement to reduce its overuse of ColoradoRiver water. California currently exceeds its allocation by 20 per-cent. Neighboring states like Nevada and Arizona are now usingthe allocations they once allowed to flow downstream. The Cityof San Diego, on behalf of its urban users, is considering a pro-posal to pay tens of millions of dollars to farmers in the ImperialValley to buy up their Colorado River water rights. This deal iscomplicated by concerns about environmental damage to theSalton Sea, which depends on agricultural runoff. However, SanDiego has sweetened the pot, and increased pressure, by offeringan additional $165 million over 15 years if farmers agree to take 10percent of their land out of production. The Center forBiological Diversity, Sierra Club and the Cabazon Band of MissionIndians joined together to file a lawsuit on September 4th againstSecretary of the Interior Gale Norton to protect the Salton Seafrom over-salinization. As California’s wetlands have disappeared,the Salton Sea has become increasingly important as habitat forhundreds of species of migratory waterfowl and other birds onthe Pacific Flyway.

Also in jeopardy is a plan to restore 61 miles of the lower OwensRiver. This stretch has been mostly dry since 1913, when nearly itsentire flow was diverted into the (then new) Los AngelesAqueduct. The story of the Owens River is the classic case ofwater robbery at its worst. Los Angeles was given the water itneeded to grow into a modern metropolis and a green, fertileregion of the state disappeared when the lower river was killed,causing Owens Lake to dry up. Under the terms of a 1997 agree-ment, the restored Owens River was supposed to flow again in2003. Now the Los Angeles Department of Water and Power isstalling to keep Owens Valley water for the city. [See also "TheLife of the Mojave River," by Joseph Pendleton, this issue –Ed.]

Desert Mines: BriggsMine ExpansionDesert Survivors submitted comments on the Briggs Mine explo-ration in early August. If permitted, the Briggs operators wouldbe allowed to bulldoze over 22 miles of new roads in a relativelypristine area of the Panamints, six miles north of the current mineand up to 4,000 feet on the mountainside. In our comments, wesaid the potential damage to the viewshed should require a com-plete Environmental Impact Study (EIS), and that no activityshould be permitted until a full assessment is done; this was themessage from the Sierra Club as well as other commenters. TheBLM’s Environmental Assessment failed to sufficiently address air

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ISSUES WATCHBy Janet Johnson, Hayward, CA and Bob Ellis, Berkeley, CA


pollution, reclamation and visual impact issues. In addition, theTimbisha Tribe has declared the Panamints to be sacred lands totheir tribe and have opposed any mining. Legislation pending atboth the state and federal levels favors stronger protection forNative American sacred lands. The state bill would amend bothCEQA and the Surface Mining and Reclamation Act of 1975 toassure that a measure of respect be accorded to sites sacred toNative Americans. Passage of these bills would also help theQuechan Tribe in its battle against the Glamis Gold Mine. Wedon't expect that BLM will follow our advice, and we expect adecision soon that will allow Briggs to go ahead and plow newroads. If support can be found, a lawsuit against the BLM toattempt to force an EIS is a possibility; DS would be asked to signon to this lawsuit as a co-plaintiff. This would be a precedent-set-ting action as no mining exploration up to now has required anEIS at this level. Supporters believe there is some chance of alawsuit succeeding, however, because of the national importanceand world-class status of the Death Valley region.

Off Road Vehicles:Surprise Canyon andUtah’s Red RockOn behalf of Desert Survivors, Dave McMullen submitted officialcomments to the BLM to support the temporary closure ofSurprise Canyon to off road vehicles (ORVs). Dave’s commentletter further supported amending the California DesertConservation Area Plan to make the closure permanent.Destruction of habitat, noise pollution, endangered species protec-tion, and protection of cultural sites were among the argumentsadvanced for denying any future access to ORVs. Damage inflict-ed by trucks being winched up dry waterfalls, stains from rupturedoil pans and gasoline spills near water sources are just a few of thereasons to support the closure of Surprise Canyon to any motor-ized activity. In a related ruling, the Tenth Circuit Court ofAppeals in Denver, Colorado issued a decision on August 29ththat the BLM can be held accountable for its failure to protectUtah’s red rock country from ORV damage. The Tenth Circuit’sdecision overturned a Utah federal district judge’s December 2000ruling which had dismissed claims by conservationists that theUtah BLM was permitting rampant ORV use to damage fragilesouthern Utah landscapes. The BLM has been placed on noticethat they must take responsibility for the management of publiclands.

Eagle Mountain LandfillThe Center for Biological Diversity recently announced plans tofile a lawsuit in federal court to block the landfill at EagleMountain. Environmental groups led by the Center and the SierraClub, along with local landowners Donna and Larry Charpied,intend to sue the landfill operators along with the BLM, US Fishand Wildlife Service and the Department of the Interior. At issue

is the defendants’ failure to maintain tunnels and ballasts that aremeant to allow desert tortoises to safely move over and under thetracks of the railroad, which transports the trash to the dump site.A previous suit is attempting to void the previous BLM land trans-fer, as well as enforce the reversion of certain of the lands to pub-lic ownership. Opposition to the proposed landfill, situated on theeastern edge of Joshua Tree National Park, has successfullyblocked the project for several years.

WildernessSeptember 3rd was the protest deadline for the BLM’s NECO(Northern and Eastern Colorado desert, south of I-40 and east ofJoshua Tree) plan. Desert Survivors signed on to a group protestheaded by the California Wilderness Coalition, which focused onthe BLM’s intent to install 22 new bighorn sheep guzzlers inwilderness areas in the desert. In addition, the Desert TortoisePreserve Committee filed a protest concerning the lack of an alter-native implementing the 1994 tortoise recovery plan. ORV groupsare also believed to have submitted protests. The BLM willattempt to resolve the protests by early October and come outwith a Record of Decision in late October on this plan. Thisrecord will be signed at the Department of the Interior level andappeal to the IBLA will not be possible. Also in September, agroup of "wilderness interested folks" re-visited the five proposedwilderness areas in the bill sponsored by Senator Barbara Boxer.They were updating survey data and looking for roads or any otherconflicts. Senator Dianne Feinstein still has not signed on as acosponsor of Boxer’s wilderness bill.

Steve Tabor submitted comments, on behalf of Desert Survivors,on several wilderness related issues. Desert Survivors opposes theconstruction of an exceedingly expensive fence inside the OwensPeak Wilderness to protect the burned part of Sand Canyon fromgrazing cattle. This is not allowed under the Wilderness Act. Asan alternative to building the fence, Steve proposed moving thecattle out of the wilderness. Steve also proposed a "No Grazing"alternative for the Pine Forest Grazing Allotment, which straddlestwo WSAs and one Wilderness Area (Black Rock Desert). Inresponse to a BLM proposal to use chemical herbicides to killtamarisk infestations in the Dead Mountains and elsewhere, Stevewrote and demanded that herbicides not be used around water.

Daniel Peterson of the Center for Biological Diversity has put outa request for volunteers. The Center needs help monitoring forcattle in excluded desert tortoise habitat in November, mainly inthe Barstow and Needles field office areas. People are also neededto participate in BLM weekend overflights of the Algodones SandDunes to monitor for off road violations in closed areas. TheSaturday flights will begin in mid-October. If interested pleasecontact Daniel at (909) 659-6053 x306 orwww.biologicaldiversity.org.

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CADIZ

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Cadiz Project Awaits Final Decision

by Li Miao, San Francisco, CA

The controversial Cadiz project to sell Mojave Desert water toSouthern California faces a vote by the Metropolitan WaterDistrict board as early as November, and possibly in January.

After years of exceeding its allocation of Colorado River water,the MWD of Southern California must come up with plans byDec. 31st to cut its excess usage. MWD’s joint project with CadizInc. would extract native groundwater from beneath Cadiz’ SanBernadino County holdings, as well as store water from theColorado River in surplus years.

The proposed purchase of municipal water from a private corpo-ration is unprecedented in California. But this water would comefrom more than private holdings. The aquifer under Cadiz’s prop-erty drains 1.7 million acres of public land, including five BLMwilderness areas and the Mojave National Preserve. These providehabitat for the desert bighorn and threatened desert tortoise.

Concerns have been raised about the feasibility of the project, andthe potential damage to the desert ecosystem. Both SenatorDianne Feinstein and Representative Jerry Lewis expressed opposi-tion on the grounds of creating another Owens Valley debacle,which generated huge dust storms and subsequent lawsuits.Feinstein is attempting to block funding for the Cadiz Project inthis year’s spending bill for the Department of the Interior.

But the deal has already cleared several hurdles this year. InAugust, the Department of the Interior granted a right-of-way forthe construction of a 35-mile pipeline and power facilities con-necting the MWD’s Colorado River aqueduct to the aquiferbeneath Cadiz Inc.’s property. Desert Survivor’s formal protest ofthe final EIR was summarily denied, on the same day that theagency signed the Record of Decision allowing the constructionon BLM lands.

Officials at the Interior Department and Cadiz Inc. said that themanagement plan is based on scientific scrutiny and careful moni-toring. But scientists from the Interior Department’s own USGeological Survey (USGS) and the Pacific Institute have ques-tioned the amount of native water that can be extracted, and thecosts of such a project. According to the USGS, the desert aquifercannot give up as much water as the MWD and Cadiz had claimedin their projections. The recharge rates projected in the draftEIS/EIR were 5 to 25 times greater than what USGS found intheir calculations.

Cost projections done by MWD consultants also don’t seem tohold water. An economic report from the Pacific Institute citedwater costs of $850 per acre-foot, 45% above MWD estimates.Southern California residents currently pay around $400 per acre-foot for wholesale water.

"The Cadiz project doesn’t make much economic sense," saideconomist Gary Wolff in a Pacific Institute press release, notingcheaper alternatives. "Unless, of course, you are a stockholder inCadiz, Inc." But Cadiz is financially on the rocks, and with a $64

million dollar debt coming to term in January, it stands to benefitfrom the deal. CEO Keith Brackpool is a major financial contribu-tor to Governor Gray Davis, who has put Brackpool on at leasttwo advisory panels concerning the state’s water resources.

With a year-end deadline to reduce dependency on Colorado Riverwater, the MWD is also looking at other plans that may be morecost-effective than the Cadiz proposal. While the board’s vote onthe Cadiz project is pending, Feinstein’s budgetary move to kill thedeal presents a wild card. After years of public debate, the fate ofSouthern California’s water supply could be determined in theweeks ahead.

[Hall, can you put the following text in a box, please, to highlight?]

For more information, visit the BLM weekly update of publishedarticles and reports:

www.ca.blm.gov/news/newsbytes/2002 and click on a recent link.

To take action:

Sign the National Parks Conservation Association petition oppos-ing the Cadiz project at: www.thepetitionsite.com

Attend a public hearing scheduled by the MWD; for projectupdates and schedule seewww.mwd.dst.ca.us/mwdh2o/pages/news/cadiz01.html

Thank Dianne Feinstein for her support in protecting the desert;for contact information visit http://feinstein.senate.gov/contact

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By Cathy Luchetti, Berkeley, CA

The invitation read, "Laura Bush requests the pleasure ofyour company at a breakfast reception and White HouseSymposium on ‘Women of the West," Tuesday, September

17, 2002, part of her Salute to American Authors series."Surprised, I tried to figure out the reason for the invitation. Myfirst book was titled Women of the West, and I had grown up inthe same hometown as George and Laura Bush. Moreover, I hadasked them for an interview for a current book I was writing. Hersecretary informed me that theinterview was "under consider-ation." Then came the invita-tion.

The symposium subject wouldbe three women writers whoare often overlooked today:Willa Cather, Edna Ferber andLaura Ingalls Wilder. Yet eachhad embraced the frontier, its rolling plains, starry skies, back-woods and deserts. What better setting to promote today’s envi-ronmental concerns? At the heavily-barricaded entrance to theEast Wing, I reviewed my position: mention Desert Survivors,wonder aloud what Archbishop Latour, of Willa Cather’s DeathComes to the Archbishop, would have thought about YuccaMountain? Muse that Little House on the Prairie’s Pa would havenowhere else to move today if he got nervous about civilization.And, what wild grasses would now wave for Willa?!

I joined a group of 30 or so women milling around the guardhouse at the East Entrance of the White House. ID’s werechecked, and the huge gates unraveled and lifted up, part StarWars, part King Arthur. Once inside, we were carefully escortedthrough a series of ornate rooms to a long table covered with pas-tries. I nibbled and drank coffee, meeting historians, museumdirectors, and authors. None of us knew what was happening—who was part of the "symposium?" Were we going to speak?Contribute? Discuss? And where was Laura?

The military guys nudged us toward an even more ornate room.Finally, the first lady! Petite and quite lovely, with one eyebrowcocked quizzically high, she introduced the program: six speakerswho would inform us about the lives of these authors, with time atthe end for discussion.

At the break I fought my way around Millie, the White House dog,to finally speak to Laura Bush. She was gracious and smiling. Iintroduced myself. She said something like, "um hum" and smiled,graciously. Military men suddenly appeared and it was time toreenter the symposium even though I still had much left to say.

The "Salute to American Authors" was different than what I’denvisioned but still, an altogether awesome and impressive event.As a historian, I felt the weight of time settle around me. Thelibrary that gleamed with oiled leather and polished wood had

once been raw planks and a dirt floor. The presidential succession,whether faulty and onerous or heroic and inspiring, was still freelyin place. And my thank-you letter to Laura would have anotherrequest for an interview.

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Attending A Salute to American Authorsat the White House

At the break I fought my way around Millie,the White House dog, to finally speak toLaura Bush. She was gracious and smiling.I introduced myself. She said somethinglike, "um hum" and smiled, graciously


Wildflowers of theEastern Sierra and adjoin-ing Mojave Desert andGreat Basin by Laird R. Blackwell, Lone Pine Publishing, 2002

Reviewed by Tamia Marg, Berkeley, CA

This flower guide is organized around four zones: MojaveDesert Scrub (to 4500 feet), Great Basin Sagebrush Steppe(4500-7500 feet, including pinyon-juniper forest), Mixed

Conifer Forest (7500-11,500 feet, including subalpine forest), andAlpine (above 11,500 feet). A few pages describe each environ-mental zone and, most importantly, where and when to see theflowers there. As the title suggests, the focus of the book is theeastern escarpment of the Sierras, including its interface with theMojave and Great Basin.

The plants of each zone are organized by the color of their flow-ers — white, yellow, pink or red, blue or purple, or other (greenishor multi-colored). The photos usually include both close-up andmidrange shots, capturing identifying details as well as the generalhabit. For identification at a glance, the salient points are highlight-ed in the descriptive paragraph, and the specific color, number ofpetals, and months of bloom are in bold along the bottom of eachselection. A sentence or two describes the etymology of the Latinname and mentions other common names. Where the plant isfound is noted by terrain type, county, and elevation, with exam-ples of areas, roads, or trails and what month flowers are bloom-ing in those places. If there are any related species, those are com-pared and contrasted. A quick key to the 366 species — more thana dozen pages of thumbnails of flower shots, sorted by color —

acts as a pictorial index in the front of the book. My only gripewith this otherwise excellent guide is that, while the descriptionsare thorough, any historical, cultural, or ecological facts about theindividual plants are sparse.

Tying the wildflowers into place makes this one of the bestthought-out guides I have seen. Its clear organization, layout, andeven the binding make it a pleasure to use, and the author’s pas-sion for his subject make you want to get out there and use it.

The Shadow of the Sunby Ryszard Kapuscinski

Reviewed by Janet Johnson, Hayward, CA

Ryszard Kapuscinski has been a foreign correspondent forthe Polish news for over four decades. He has reported onAsia, Latin America, and Africa, and befriended Che

Guevara, Salvador Allende and Patrice Lumumba. According tohis biography, he has witnessed twenty-seven coups and revolu-tions and was sentenced to death four times. But of all the placeshe experienced, Africa held his heart. He first arrived there in1957 and, as he puts it, The Shadow of the Sun is "the record of aforty-year marriage."

Kapuscinski has a vividly descriptive and poetic writing style thattranslates the passion he feels for the African continent. In thefirst story of the book, "The Beginning: Collision, Ghana, 1958,"the author captures the moment of stepping off a plane whichbegan its journey in northern Europe and has ended in the tropics.The wonders of the sights, the smells, the blazing light and theheat are described in a way that not only share them, but make youwant to experience them for yourself.

The stories told in The Shadow of the Sun span a period from1958 to the nineties. They take place in many different Africancountries, and cover many difference experiences. Some of thetales carry the adventure of being a foreign correspondent tryingto place himself in the middle of revolutions and military coups.Others give you insights to the culture of a region or tribe,describing something as simple as a village’s morning rituals. Andthen there’s the story "Salim." Hitching a ride across the Sahara inMauritania, Kapuscinski has no idea where he’s heading and can-not communicate with the driver who’s offered him a ride in histruck. It seemed like a good way to get out of the oasis he’s beenstranded in. That is until the truck breaks down. "A suddensilence awoke me. The engine had stopped, the truck stood still. .. . I stepped down from the cab. All around us, as far as the eyecould see, was desert. . . . A moonscape, delineated by a level hori-zon line: the earth ends, and then there’s nothing but sky andmore sky. No hills. No sand dunes. Not a single leaf. And, ofcourse, no water."

The Shadow of the Sun could have been a book of adventuretales, but it becomes something more because of the profoundrespect that Kapuscinski has for the peoples and cultures ofAfrica. In particular he tries to educate the reader about the cul-ture of desert peoples and their relationship to their environment.This above all is the beauty of the book and the poetry of its sto-

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Surprise WayBy Sam Moorman, September 2002

The others hike Fly Creek Canyonwhile one stays behind to soak a sore anklein the hot spring called Catherineand lounges around Black Rock Desertsketching flowersto i.d. later in the Jepson guide.

Gingerly he tries a small trek in flip-flopsheading without water into low creosotetoward something he quickly namesNipple Peak for its shape.With one glance back he sights a linethrough camp to Snowtop Mountainto orient a safe return.

Over this ridge should be another hot spring,yes, and another camp where last nightthey’d heard gunfire. Warily he moves insidethe deserted tent circleto secure a wind-blown canvas awning—then heads back; it’s time.

But halfway to the goal he halts—like we do at a big junction in life,because he spots a faint cross-trailand has nothing to do in this place, this day,but wonder where it goes…

The detour eventually contoursnear his campsite wherePat and Ralph are busy, staking a flapping tent fly.He hails and hollers into the hot wind,

but none call backlouder than his pointless burro trackwhere stacks of clods as regular as cairnscarelessly respond, Don’t all trails lead somewhereand all end much the same?But I used to want my life to mean something,a remnant of his soul replies, to go somewhere,not just fade into a clump of sage.Otherwise, what’s the use?What’s the sense of it all?

Yet his dusty boots plod on. Oh, there’s a jeep-track,quick route back—but he’s justnamed his little path Surprise Way,and now is bound to see it’s end.He moves across the rutted roadand downinto a warm stream hollowwhere he pauses, panting, hands on knees,while his distant drip of life’s mirage is sucked like dew into the sand’s burnt craw.

Then it happens! Next to hima sleek jackrabbit flashesfrom her hiding bush and bounds away."Oh, beautiful!" he cries, and it’s suddenly

Clear, where we are in this vast wilderness,clear, why he stands here listeningto warm water mutterabout sun medallions playing over its dark rippleslike fireflies swarming in the river of night—until his dry body’s glowlets him know it’s timeto follow this warm stream home.

Sam Moorman is a graduate of SFSU’s Creative Writing program.He lives in Oakland and has been a DS member for over 10 years.

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Mojave RiverBy Albert Geiser, Newark, DE

Crossing the Colorado, valuable thingsthere,We knew all along the resultsWould be ugly. The delta we didn't noticeWaters were not on the surface to see.

River aware of our weakness for rapids, sheKnew all along men's attentionWould be seeking source, some exposed waterAnd some comfort in the least shade.

She knew all along that greasewood and creosote,Their diving roots whispering toHer their fears, would be strongest against tideRising of these peoples' hard trails

Knew all along the red hills and dark thick treesWould elude the arts of an eraAnd people would name for science a cheesebush;A Mormon tea, a prickly cactus pear

Knew all along naming would be after their own,Spurge and milk vetch, rubberweek,And sandpaper plant, cord grass and seepweekPanic grass, mule's fat and beard tongue.

She learned it all from seashell sediments whereHer water is kept in small dropsBecause she heard it from the earth to listen;Not to any tribe of people, but to wind.

Men then came to collect the pelts, later didThe mining and put togetherGovernment geology, method of river runsCrews of science passing by the playas.

Are claiming back before anyone lived thereSilt down her Mojave's banksEroded feldspar shaping a past peoples' artResting magnetite under our war training bases.

She knew all along there would be sightseersAt Kelso, and howeowners to be inTheir trucks around Ridgecrest and those blindPursuits for the tortoise and chuckwalla

She knew all along their names would be putOn poles, and one called Cadiz,Would get the chance to poke around disturbingThe shyest roots, seeking her water to sell.

Albert Geiser has been a Desert Survivors member for 10years. He currently lives in Delaware, and is looking forwardto returning to live west of the Rockies soon.

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DS Business

[Story on AGM – Steve or Jess, photos from Janet w/ Dave M’scamera – pls hold a 2-page spread for this]

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By David I. Barr, Oakland, CATravel with Servas International

by Enid Pollack, San Rafael, CA

Want to be an "ambassador of peace" on your next overseas trip?Does a cross-cultural homestay sound like the way you would liketo experience your foreign adventure? Perhaps you are not plan-ning such travel, but would like to open your own home to a trav-eler?

As a member of United States Servas, you can do all of these.For more than 50 years, dedicated volunteers have developed theworldwide hospitality network known as Servas (meaning "weserve" in Esperanto).U.S. Servas countsover 2,000 host indi-viduals and families.They open theirhomes to travelersfrom around theworld, sharing a day ortwo, their language,interests, and culture.

Travelers are inter-viewed to ensure theirunderstanding of thecross-cultural intent ofthe program, andcarry a letter of intro-duction with pertinentinformation aboutthemselves. Aftertravelers register withServas, they receive adirectory of Servashosts in the country or area the plan to visit. Then, throughphone, letter or email, they arrange a two-night homestay or dayvisit with a Servas host.

After having been a host for about 10 years, I finally had anopportunity to be a Servas traveler in 2000. During my three-weekvisit to my daughter who was studying in Jerusalem, I was able toarrange three different homestays. The two Jerusalem hosts,although Americans, had lived in Israel for many years and offeredme breakfast along with my own room, valuable tourist advice, anda different perspective than I might have been able to see as anordinary tourist. My third Servas host lived on a kibbutz in thenorthern Galilee area of Israel. In fact, it was Israel’s second old-est kibbutz, Deganya Bet, established in 1920. My host and herparents had been born right on that kibbutz, and Servas provideda kind of armchair travel experience for her and her teenage chil-dren. In the town of Sfat, I spent some hours with a Servas day-host who enjoyed meeting travelers but was unable to provideovernight accommodations. She was the granddaughter of one ofSfat’s early civic and religious leaders. She took me to her family’s

original home in that mystical city and described the importantrole they had played in the history of the region.

On my return to the Bay Area, I stopped for a weekend in Zurich,Switzerland, and was hosted by a couple, both social workers, whohad traveled and hosted extensively through Servas. They took meto their two-hundred year old restored farmhouse about 90 min-utes out of the city, where I discovered the joys of that low-techsleep-comfort device, the hot water bottle.

As a Servas host, I have had an opportunity to meet travelers fromDenmark, Germany, Switzerland, Japan, Australia, New Zealand,England, and Belgium. Some had one or two children with them,

while one was a 70-year old woman trav-eling alone on anaround-the-worldadventure. EachServas experience,without exception,was educational, enter-taining, and a lot offun!

If you would like tohelp build peacethrough understandingamong Servas’ morethan 14,000 hostsworld-wide, moreinformation is avail-able atwww.servas.org, oryou can contact me at

[email protected].

Desert Survivors traditionally has a booth at the fair, as it is a greatvenue to get out the word about the beauty of the desert, let peo-ple know who we are, and hopefully attract new members. For thelast two years, Desert Survivors has also entered the parade downSolano Avenue that kicks off the Stroll. Desert Survivors of anartistic bent got together two years ago to create a giant rattlesnakethat could be carried in parades such as at the Solano Stroll andEarth Day, in order to make us more visible as an organization.The result of their effort is Seymour Desert, our 18 foot long rat-tlesnake. And a darn good looking snake he is, too.

Seymour was a huge hit at this year’s Parade. Many thanks to theDesert Survivor volunteers who showed up to help us bringSeymour to life for the parade: Lawrence Wilson, SuzanneCourteau, Craig King, Dan Seneres, Jessica Rothaar, Steve Tabor,Cassie Beals, Merle Norman, Janet Newman and Paul Menkes.Many thanks also to Vic Quarello, who staffed the booth while wewere slithering Seymour in the parade, and gave us a nice cheer as

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Giant Rattlesnake Spotted at Solano


we went by.

Admiration for Seymour started right at the beginning of theparade. I heard several parade monitors say, "wow that’s cool,"when we stretched Seymour out to his full length. [I heard a cou-ple of people call out, "Best float in the parade!" as we passed –Ed.] Both sides of Solano Avenue were packed with people for theparade. Steve and Suzanne lead the way carrying the DesertSurvivors banner. Seymour followed along behind, with Lawrenceworking the all-important head. There were lots of little kids andthey really liked Seymour. We snaked from one side of the streetto the other along the parade route and the kids were fascinated bySeymour. It was interesting watching their reactions. Theyseemed totally oblivious to the people carrying Seymour andfocused entirely on Seymour’s face. He does have big eyes andimpressive looking fangs, and a long shiny black tongue. The adultspectators liked Seymour as well and we got lots of cheers andapplause as we went by. Great pictures of Seymour were in theBerkeley Voice and the West Contra Costa County Times the nextday, accompanying their articles on the Stroll. The photo captions

identified us as "The Desert Survivors, a nonprofit desert conser-

vation organization." Good visibility for us as an organization. Ifyou haven’t seen Seymour yet, come on out to one of the eventswhere we parade him around. You’ll be impressed at the talent ofthe Survivors who made him.

After the parade was over we draped Seymour over the top of theDesert Survivors booth. The booth attracted a lot of people. Wehad a nice display of maps and photos of the desert, including amap of the California section of the desert trail. Our box ofbones, rocks, fossils, and a tortoise shell attracted attention too.We had literature to give out such as trip schedules and informa-tion on joining Desert Survivors. We sold $190 worth of stuff,more than ever before, and gave out 100 trip schedules, so hope-fully we’ll get some new members through interest in our deserttrips.

All in all, the Solano Stroll was a lot of fun for the Survivors whohelped out with the parade and the booth. We will be there againnext year, so keep an eye out for a call for volunteers. Helping outwith the parade and booth is a great way to participate in, and

enjoy, one of the best street fairs anywhere.

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Non-ProfitOrganizationU.S. Postage

PAID

Berkeley, CAPermit 648

Experiencing, sharing and protecting the desert since 1978

Join Desert Survivors Today!Desert Survivors members become part of a nation-wide network of savvy desert hikers and activists. Benefits include:

Four quarterly issues of the Survivor

Over 40 free trips per year in varying locations and difficulties. Trips are open to members only.

Social events including potluck parties, picnics and slide shows

Opportunities to get involved in all aspects of Desert Survivors, including preservation campaigns, hands-on desertconservation projects, and running the organization.

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Name.......................................................................................................................................................

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City.....................................................................................State....................Zip..................................

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Membership Fee/Donation Enclosed $20 $30 $50 $100 Other $___________

I can help with PR newsletter website house parties other:______________

Mail this form to: Desert Survivors, PO Box 20991, Oakland, CA 94620-0991. Desert Survivors is a 501©3 organization; duesand donations are fully tax-deductible.

For a copy of our current trip schedule, call (510) 769-1706 or go to www.desert-survivors.org

Make checks payable to Desert Survivors.

RETURN SERVICE REQUESTED

P.O. Box 20991 • Oakland, CA 94620-0991

Desert Survivors

winter 2002 the survivior newsletter ~ desert survivors

Documents

desert water

desert issues

theatacama desert

ds members

southern california

deserts ofnamibia

hall newbegin

editorby jessica rothhaar