10. A Dry Oasis in Joshua Tree

Before I went to Rome in 2004 I read everything I could get my hands on about it. Guidebooks, expat memoirs, history books, archaeology magazines. Just all sorts. One of the things I read stuck with me all these years later. In a memoir about an Englishman who married an Italian woman and emigrated to Italy, he made a statement about Rome. He said that Rome was the kind of place that grew on you- you needed distance from it to appreciate it. It’s the kind of place you get nostalgic for. He said to give it a year after your visit to Rome. You go from thinking it’s crowded and smelly to suddenly sitting there thinking about how badly you want to return. You are now seeing it through rose tinted glasses. I hated Rome while I was there- I could not wait to leave. It was so crowded, noisy, dirty and overwhelming. Rome made me realize how much I like structure. I just could not get on board with the chaos that is Rome- the honking horns, yelling, the non-existent cross walks, the openly ogling eyes. But you know what... a year later I was practically crying to go back. I felt it in my bones- I wanted to walk along the Tiber, eat gelato on the Spanish Steps, kiss my husband in the Piazza Navona. I *needed* to go back. 

What does this have to do with our road trip through the desert? Well, Joshua Tree was another Rome for me. I did not get it. What was the appeal of the desert? It was isolated but not in the good way. I will say that A LOT of this had to do with the specific town we stayed in. I chose our accommodations well but did not choose the right town to be in. I wanted to be close to the National Park. Our accommodations had come highly recommended- and I too, would wholeheartedly recommend it. But holy moly is it a little oasis. A bright happy spot in what otherwise felt like a place full of outlaws who needed 8ft fences and large dogs to keep you away from their illicit dealings. We saw a lot of that while we were there. 

Basically we approached the desert and Joshua Tree all wrong. Did I do my research? Yes. This attitude of mine had nothing to do with research and everything to do with very high expectations and saving Joshua Tree for last. We approached Joshua Tree from what I would like to call the “back door”. We were coming from Arizona and drove to Joshua Tree in kind of a roundabout way. Has anyone seen “The Hills Have Eyes”? I hate that movie with a passion, and cried all of the way through it because it made me feel sick to my stomach AND it scared me. That’s besides the point, I bring this up because the “back way” into Joshua Tree feels like you’re in the middle of “The Hills Have Eyes”. You feel like if your car breaks down on that long, desolate road mutant people are going to crawl out of the hills to either murder you or kidnap you to be their sex slave. We saw one or two cars the entire drive from the turn off for State Route 177 to Twentynine Palms. One of them was an insanely tricked out Escalade with blacked out windows. They passed us at considerable speed and we just looked straight ahead. That is not the kind of car you provoke. It was a lonely road, it felt like the moon and both Daniel and I were wondering if we’d made the right choice. Was it just travel fatigue setting in? Quite possibly.

The straight and very isolated State Route 177

Remember the Rome story from above? Keep that in mind while you read this post. I’m gonna be negative, I’m gonna be critical and then I’m gonna tell you that six months later I was dying to go back!!! I was waxing poetic about the desert. I was longing for it’s unique space. But, before we get there I gotta hate on it a little bit. This is real life and these were my real feelings. I was a little bit of a “B” while I was there but you’ve got to remember that I had *just* come from Flagstaff which I was in love with *and* Sedona which is pure magic once you get away from the theme park that is the downtown. Also, as I mentioned I had HIGH expectations of Joshua Tree. I had heard nothing but glowing reviews. People talked it up like it was the most amazing place on earth. Well, guess what? That’s subjective. That’s how I feel about Zion, and you know what? You might not like it. At.All. Joshua Tree did not meet the expectations, but that’s okay. That’s my own fault. 

 We arrived at our hotel at 3pm. I call it a hotel but that’s not the right term for where we stayed. The 29 Palms Inn is a series of adorable adobe bungalows built in 1934. They don’t have kitchens so they’re not completely self contained but other than that they are perfect. I would stay here again in a heartbeat, I even felt that way in the middle of my Twentynine Palms hating mood that I found myself in. 29 Palms Inn is perfect. It’s located on the outskirts of town so your view is just desert and at night it’s free of light pollution. The stars were shining bright for us. Our bungalow was a pink little treasure named Dandelion. I chose it because of it’s location within the property. It faced the desert and distant hills, which made it incredibly peaceful. There was only one other couple staying in one of the bungalows near us so we had plenty of privacy and each one of the bungalows has a private walled in patio area. I wish we had stayed more than one night just to enjoy the property. 

Our adobe bungalow, Dandelion

 Our first order of business was finding and exploring the Oasis of Mara. I can’t tell you how excited I was to go to this oasis. There was a primal need to see water when everything around you appeared barren and dusty. It’s like your medulla is crying out for proof that you could indeed survive this desolate land. Lucky for us the Oasis of Mara was only a half a mile from sweet little Dandelion. Something we didn’t consider as we set off for that short trek was the temperature. A half a mile is an easy distance for us- at that time in my life I was doing 4-8 miles 6 times a week. But those were treadmill miles- many of them done with a fan blowing air straight into my face. This half mile was done in over 100 degree heat with no shade in sight. That sun was beating down mercilessly. We were miserable. I kept thinking of the beautiful desert oasis that was mere minutes away and telling myself that my sweat drench back was worth it. 

 Mara- which means “the place of little springs and much grass” in the language of the Serrano people- was first settled by them before the 1850’s. Legend has it that the Serrano people were told to settle at the desert oasis by a medicine man who told them that if they moved there they would live well and have many boy babies. They were instructed to plant a palm tree every time a boy was born. They planted 29 palms that first year, and there you have the inspiration for the town name. 

 In 1867 they were joined by the Chemehuevi who came to settle the oasis and live peacefully with the Serrano. By the 1870’s the first non-native Americans started to homestead the area, build homes, graze cattle, mine the hills and search for gold. This influx of people depleted the resources and by 1913 there were no Serrano or Chemehuevi left in the area. The Serrano put down roots at the Mission Creek Reservation while the Chemehuevi chose to move to the Cabazon Reservation where they had close ties. There is an amazing website that goes into great detail on the history of the Serrano and Chemehuevi people that I highly recommend reading. It can be found here: 29PalmsTribe.org

We found ourselves several minutes later very hot and a little bit irritable at the entrance to the visitors center. Finally, blessed shade! You never know how much you’re going to appreciate the overhang of the building until you’ve been in a desert in triple digits. We walked to the back of the building where the trailhead began and took in the oasis. Talk about underwhelming. There was a cluster of maybe 10 palm trees and a few lone ones scattered near the cluster. It was only when we started to read the informational signs and really look closely that you see the beauty. It was not what I was expecting at all. I thought it was going to be a cluster of 29 palms surrounding a lagoon. I imagined lush grasses blanketing the ground- it was almost tropical in it’s lushness in my head. What you find instead is dusty ground, sparse trees and varied types of cacti with their own gentle beauty. Subtle colors, diverse textures and blooms. We were fortunate to be in the dessert in late spring when the desert blooms were still showcasing their colors. 

View of the Oasis of Mara from the back of the visitors center

Mural of Minerva Hamilton Hoyt on the visitors center wall

Visitors Center

To my great disappointment we found out that the oasis has been dry since the 1940’s. That’s right, no water bubbles to the surface any longer. There is no lagoon, not even a puddle. The National Park Service pumps in water to keep the plants alive but that’s it. To top it off there was a fire in 2018 that burned many of the palm trees which is why we weren’t greeted with the sight of plentiful trees. What a sad little sight the Oasis of Mara is. I can’t tell you how disappointed I was in the moment. This is why it’s dangerous to have expectations- it’s best to go to places with an open mind and no pre-conceived notions on what you’re going to find. This is much harder to do in practice than in theory- but I do try to tell myself this now. Thankfully when I was able to sit in the courtyard of Dandelion later that day I could look back through my photos of the Oasis with new eyes. Look at that sky, the dusty pastel tones of the cacti, the way the cluster of trees offered much needed shade to the bunnies that were hopping everywhere. It might not have been the scene I was expecting but it was beautiful and vital in it’s own way. 

Burnt out area in the Oasis

The Oasis of Mara

What’s left of the Oasis of Mara

Blessed Sacrament Catholic Church as seen from the Oasis

 By the time we got back to 29 Palms Inn we were hungry. The town of Twentynine Palms doesn’t offer much beyond fast food, which we didn’t want. According to Google there was a Starbucks, so we settled on that. Coffee and sandwiches would do us just fine. GPS quickly took us away from the town “center” to the outskirts of town. We kept checking to make sure that we had typed in the correct address. Further and further away we drove and realized in short order that the Starbucks we were being directed to was on the military base looming before us. You know what else was looming before us? The guarded checkpoint at the entrance to the base. We made what was probably a very suspicious and illegal U-turn and hightailed it back into town. 

With the next nearest Starbucks being 20 miles away in Yucca Valley we decided to scratch that plan and just go to the grocery store in Twentynine Palms. Pulling up to Stater Bros. Market our hunger was at maximum. We decided to get sandwiches from the deli and eat them back at Dandelion, our little pink safe haven. Up until this point I was only underwhelmed with Twentynine Palms, I didn’t actively dislike it. By the time I left that grocery store I was what one would call a hater. Is that fair? Probably not. All I can say is the people in that grocery store, both patrons and staff were incredibly rude. Like, so rude that I was looking for cameras in case it was a prank tv show. We left that store with a hodgepodge of food because I was repeatedly ignored at the deli counter, while also being bulldozed by a fellow customer. Apparently in Twentynine Palms I become invisible? 

 I must have looked both miserable and fuming when I found Daniel in the store to explain why I was not in possession of sandwiches. He’s a good sport. He didn’t even bat an eye, just grabbed something else and told me not to take people being rude personally. I’m a friendly person and I come from a really friendly corner of the world- I am a fish out of water everywhere else. I really do take it personally- a trip to Boston had me so deflated that I vowed never to go back. This girl right here needs to get a thicker skin, because Boston is a beautiful city. 

 Our time in Twentynine Palms/Joshua Tree was short. We were only there for one night and had to leave first thing in the morning. The area of the town that we were staying in is actually quite lovely. I mentioned before that our accommodation was located on the outskirts of the city with the huge desert expanse rolling out beyond it. It really was a haven and a place I would return to one hundred percent. It was a beacon of light. 

 Originally comprised of wooden structures and called Gold Park Inn, it existed to the east of the current property. Sometime during the mid-1920’s the owner of the establishment, W.P. Roberts noticed flourishing palms trees on the west end of his property. He dug a 14 foot well and discovered water. The buildings that made up the Gold Park Inn were moved to this new location and centered around this new oasis. At this point the name was changed from the Gold Park Inn to 29 Palms Hotel. Between 1929 and 1935 the “new” Adobe buildings (which includes our gem Dandelion) were built. There are 4 structures that survive from that original Gold Park Inn incarnation- if you wander the grounds you’ll find Gold Park, The Faultline, #1, and The Hermitage. The original lodge burned down in 1965, leaving only its adobe fireplace, which still stands on the lawn. 

The restaurant at 29 Palms Inn

Our private courtyard

The Oasis at the 29 Palms Inn

The Forget-Me-Not adobe with beautiful mural

Bunnies ran rampant at the hotel and the Oasis

 After a weird dinner of jalapeño cheese bread and individual cups of Ben and Jerry’s ice cream I decided to go for a run and explore the grounds and neighborhood. I’ve decided that golden hour is when you need to see the desert. The way the light plays on the land and illuminates the flora is magical. My cold heart was beginning to thaw a little bit towards this area. It would be another 6 months before it thawed completely though. At this point (2 years later) I’m able to forget the negative things that came up and just dream of that pink pearl that sheltered us from the heat of the day and then the cold of the evening. By the time I went to bed that night I had a whole new appreciation for that solitary land. 

View from the courtyard of Dandelion at night

Old Schoolhouse Museum

 Remember when I said earlier that we approached Joshua Tree and Twentynine Palms from the wrong direction? The back door, so to speak. This is was no more obvious than when we departed that morning and drove West through the actual town of Joshua Tree, and then the positively bustling town of Yucca Valley. There we were unknowingly on the edge of “civilization”, thinking it was desolate and isolated for tens of miles around. Our minds were positively blown by these busy little towns after sleepy Twentynine Palms. Multiple grocery stores, car dealerships, restaurants, shopping centers. It’s clear that the bulk of the population Iives in Yucca Valley. It completely changed my perspective of the area surrounding Joshua Tree National Park. Some of my aversion was wearing away. 

Joshua Trees

Wind turbines near Whitewater 

 We left really early and took the long way home because we were tired of dusty, straight highways and frankly we didn’t want to come home via Bakersfield. We chose instead to take the 10 and brave the Southern California traffic to get to the 101 and eventually lunch in Santa Barbara. We longed to see the ocean again. Our drive home was delightfully uneventful but long. We longed to pick our pup up from the kennel and wasted no time getting on the road after lunch. 

Los Agaves Restaurant, Santa Barbara, Ca

The drive between Santa Barbara and our home in San Luis Obispo County is so familiar it feels like home. I always feel like I can breathe again on that stretch of road. While driving home we were already dreaming and planning our next trip. England was up next and we couldn’t wait. My Yorkshireman was homesick and importing tea and biscuits from Blighty just wasn’t going to cut it. Little did we know that 2020 would have something else in store for us…

 Ignorance is bliss sometimes.