A desert tested

Despite my passive attitude towards the color brown, I must admit I was completely taken over by the persistent desert hues of the Anza Borrego Desert in South East California.

Weather forecast that spelled cloudless skies with 100 degree plus dry heat had me worried. The wind made it worse as it only circulated hot air and sometimes fine dust. Working ten hours a day in such conditions had me considerably concerned.

At Font’s Point

But my apprehensions were unfounded. Sure, it was hot but it made me feel alive. The Sun was at his cocky best as he did not have to contend with silly little clouds. But with my glasses on, I could not help, but admire completely cloudless skies for miles apart.

Mars Anyone?

The desert seemed never ending. The endless dusty flats and caked riverbeds sometimes found themselves surrounded by ugly unloved mountains. On this terrain, the test vehicles unfortunately faced the bitter end. The engine radiators fumed at the dust level while the air conditioner simply gave up. The suspension articulated to their maximum capacity and the chassis creaked as if begging for no more.

Small hills, big ditches; gnarly cacti and weird bushes; some sights strange, some stark but all new. My eyes were defeated by the vastness of the desert and the views it offered. My insignificant self seemed at its insignificant best in these infinite badlands.

A layer upon layer of rock

As work wound up for the day, a few of us would take off in search of further treasures. A bumpy hard ride or a steep climb on foot, no matter what the mode of transport, the views were spectacular. Geologically significant canyons that had bared test of time lay lazily ahead of us. The wind and its abrasive dust made caves in sandstone rocks. And our voices echoed endlessly as we tread along on canyon ridges. In the night, I would look up at the infinite stars. I could not recall the last time when I had seen the Milky Way so clearly.

The wind caves

Finally then, with a wardrobe impregnated with fine desert sand my trip came to an appropriate end. Now, in the cold fall air of a green Michigan, I will miss the desert.

And its ability to make me re-realize the oh-so-rare joyful bouts of solitude