#RSRSeesTheUSA Day 23: Joshua Tree & Pioneertown, CA
It’s my last full day in the desert, and it brought me some great things.
First, some bird watching. These red-eyed, mohawked cuties are phainopeplae (the black one with the white wing spots is the male, the brown one is the female), and I hung out with them on a nature walk this morning and listened to them imitating various other birds’ songs.
Second, some oasis watching. I decided—somewhat on a whim—to hike the 3 miles in and out to see the 49 Palms Oasis. I’m grateful to my body for being up for the hike in the sun, in non-hiking boots, and in less-than-stretched-and-strengthened condition.
(on that note, my plan is to find a nice place for a birthday massage and/or acupuncture session while I’m in LA… any recommendations welcome)
It was definitely cool to hike up and over and down rocky, windy, sandy desert hills and then to suddenly turn a corner and find green and running water.
Walking down, listening to a podcast about creative inspiration, heading for a shower and a nap and a late afternoon wander, this day felt like one of the more “vacation activity” days I’ve had on a lot of this trip. I still mixed feelings about taking anything that feels like vacation when I’m not working as regularly or financially-productively as I’m used to. I’ve been keeping my living expenses real low, and now—even for the cost of gas alone—it feels like money is flying out the door. Yes, I know this is rooted in problematic internalized capitalism. I live in a world of problematic internalized capitalism. ¯\_(ツ)_/¯
Third, some watching of… I don’t know what the hell Pioneertown is exactly.
In a literal sense, it’s a town that was built in the 1940s by Hollywood stars to look like a Western movie image of a mid 19th-century settlement. But in actuality, as I showed up practically alone in the late-afternoon slanting sun, it felt like I was somehow visiting Disney’s Western Land. Every other building seemed to have some reference to alcohol (“saloon” “likker”). The one actual live person I spoke with in the one actually open store wished me “Happy trails” as I left.
It was bizarre to feel like I was simultaneously on a movie set (it continues to be used as an active film set) and in a residential town (signs for locals, houses labeled ‘private residence’). It was bizarre to feel like these were somehow both modern functioning buildings (there were satellited dishes on them) and pastiche parodies of the whitewashed Westward Expansion mythos of the USA’s “Wild West Era.” Was I supposed to talk to the person in the store as though they were a character in the “Old West”? Was this all some immersive art performance, as a number of things seem to be in this area of the California desert?
Fascinating and odd.
Cloud of the day: this fluffy puff floating over the desert of Twentynine Palms, with its shadows on the valley floor
