For the entire last week of March, for Spring Break 2018 which happened to line up perfectly at the kiddo’s school and the University where I work, for a much needed vacation for a very busy family, and for our mutual, unadulterated love of the open road: Jeremy, Waits, Vesper, and I, went adventuring.

Six glorious days of desert exploration, 1,300 miles of criss-crossing California — from the southernmost deserts near Calexico, to the eastern reaches of the Nevada border near Las Vegas, and everywhere in between — we traversed not one, not two, not three, but FOUR National/State parks. We bouldered in Joshua Tree and we danced on beaches made of bones at the Salton Sea; we skateboard bombed campsites across Anza Borrego, and we washed away the dust in the healing mineral waters of the natural hot springs in Palm Desert; we followed a wise guide deep into the badlands, trusting her to lead us to treasure — which she did; we collected wildflowers everywhere we went and we cooked over campfires and we sang a thousand rounds of Hamilton and we slept in piles of puppies and people and it was all so indescribably perfect.

It was the best Spring Break of my life. Here’s what the first leg of our trip was like . . .

We left town early on a Sunday, which was perfect because we were heading south, and that particular Sunday just so happened to be the day of Vegan Street Fair! It was super easy to swing a detour through North Hollywood on our way out of civilization. I mean, what better way to prepare for a week away from modern luxuries, than with an everything-you-could-possibly-dream-of Food Festival??

We didn’t stay long, just an hour or two. Enough time to see some friends, stroll the length of the promenade, catch a bouncy castle, chow down on some plant-based grub, and get back on the road by early afternoon.

Leaving LA by 2 pm, we were officially on the open road. Desert bound. Ready for anything. Our trusty ancient Subaru, the same one that Jeremy has somehow been keeping alive and kicking for the last 5 years despite my constant inattention and borderline car abuse, was piled high with camping gear, coolers full of food, shovels and pickaxes (more on that later), books and games, and of course, snacks. Many snacks.

Compared to other California icons like Joshua Tree or even the Mojave, Anza Borrego isn’t a desert that gets a whole lot of attention. Which is funny, since it’s huge. Over 600,000 acres makes it the largest state park in all of California. It’s also the southernmost, with a rough and rugged terrain that’s formed primarily as the result of flash floods and rapid runoff tearing down from the surrounding Santa Rosa and San Jacinto Mountain ranges. Of all the deserts we visited, Anza Borrego definitely felt the most barren.

We reached our camp (nestled amidst a grove of Tamarisk trees — they taste salty, you better believe I tasted them!) in the early evening, and immediately Jeremy and I began to get set up.

As we had made our way through the campground, Waits had seen a number of kids hanging around various sites. So as soon as we parked, he bounded out of the car hollering “I’M GONNA GO PLAY WITH THOSE KIDS OKAY BYEEEEEE” and I have to tell you, that was one of my favorite things about the whole trip. I don’t know how it is where you live, but in this day and age, in southern California, you don’t just let your kids run off unsupervised to make friends with strangers. It’s just not something parents in the city do.

So watching him get to experience that reminded me so much of my wild latchkey childhood, and I was thrilled that he finally got to feel that kind of freedom. He made great connections with a couple of kids — those kinds of friendships that only last a few days but really make an impact. It’s such an important part of childhood, I think.

Vesper was full of energy after a day in the car, so Jeremy continued to set up camp while I did the only thing that made sense, obvi.

Half a dozen laps around the campground and she was tuckered out. It was actually the first time I’d taken her skating, and I was so pleased to find that she loved it! She ran alongside me and sometimes even pulled, which makes sense considering her breed. Now I’m really looking forward to more skateboard adventures with this perfect pooch.

The rest of the night was campfire cooking (I’ll be posting vegan camping recipes, coming soon), hot chocolate and marshmallows, starry latenight excursions, tempestuous winds that threatened to tear apart our camp (seriously!), and a tiny tent filled up to the top with cuddles.

But I didn’t take any pictures of any of that.

I love mornings around camp. I think it may be my favorite part of camping — how the air is so cold and the world is so quiet. You can hear every clink as you prepare the coffee, and work to build a fire. Your lips are dry and you can feel the layer of grime covering your skin, but for some reason it all feels sort of lovely. The fire is warm and there’s too much smoke, but it’s okay. You pull up a chair and sip your coffee and listen to the world slowly waking up: birds singing, people mumbling across the campground, children beginning to holler. Eventually, the smells of many breakfasts wafting through. The sun rises higher and the world starts to warm. Suddenly, you realize you can peel off one of the many layers you’re wearing.

I *love* that.

We hit the road for a day trip after breakfast, with a vague notion of where we were headed. I’d always wanted to visit the Salton Sea . . .

But Anza Borrego is vast, and we were in no hurry. We made our way through the desert landscape, stopping to marvel at the many changing topographies, everything from washed-out flash flood ravines, to giant fanning bajadas, to the seemingly endless plains dotted with short, fat chollas and tall, spindly, flame-tipped ocotillos.

I fell in love with those ocotillos.





Eventually we wound our way east, through the desert, towards the sea.

The Salton Sea is a very large, very shallow, very saline lake located directly on top of the San Andreas Fault line. It’s the largest lake in California, but the surface of the water sits hundreds of feet below sea level. It’s saltier than the Pacific Ocean.

During the 1950s, there was a push to build resort-style housing and developments along the shores of the Salton Sea, to create a sort of “Desert Oasis” tourist draw. Hundreds of homes were erected in small planned communities with names like Salton City, Desert Shores, and Bombay Beach. Sadly, the pervasive agricultural runoff created a highly-polluted lakefront. The noxious smell and rising salinity all but erased any hope of a fishing and leisure industry. Entire towns have been abandoned, leaving behind the strange, skeletal remains of a 1950s promise.

It’s not a hospitable place, but then again — what did they expect in the desert?

These photos were all taken along the western shoreline. It was so eerie being there.

We made our way from the southern edge of the western shores, up north, around the top near the Coachella valley, and back down along the eastern shores. The eastern side of the lake is very different, with multiple State Park Service Areas designated for recreation. Despite the lack of tourism, the Salton Sea still generates a lot of interest, mostly from ecologists who study the handful of salt-tolerant creatures who call it home.

It’s still not particularly hospitable.























That day, we drove the entire perimeter of the lake, then back across the desert to our happy grove of Tamarisk trees. At camp, we settled in for the evening, for another round of campfire cooking and hot chocolate and star gazing.

♥ ♥ ♥

To be continued . . .

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