Home ·· News Room ·· Prints ·· Licensing ·· Gallery ·· About Us ·· Contact Us ·· Articles ·· Services Photography Trip to Anza Borrego State Park September 9-10, 2006
	The plan, developed at a well thought ahead Saturday 7am, was to head out to Anza Borrego State park. On the way in, I stopped by the visitor's center to find out the current road conditions and any animal sightings. Nothing exciting other than the 104 deg F temperatures. The visitor's center has been completely remodeled. The volunteer workers seemed to be happy with the new setup. Bought a copy of Lowell & Diana Lindsay's "The Anza-Borrego Desert Region" which includes a handy area map. Headed out to Split Mountain Road, heading south of Ocotillo Wells (the world dune buggy capital) toward the U.S. Gypsum Company Mine Quarry to take a drive along the U.S. Gypsum Mining Railroad, completing a drive I was unable to do in my car last year due to wet weather conditions. Headed to the second trestle, once a nice wooden trestle, now a graffiti encrusted concrete trestle. The Carrizo Wash is the focal point of a huge watershed, hundreds of square miles in size. The hurricanes moving through the Baja, Mexico area bring up moisture out of the Sea of Cortez and create huge thunderheads, occasionally creating massive flash floods, filling Carrizo Wash. It just so happened that areas of the wash were still wet, creating a sticky desert mud that converts well-treaded tires to sand slicks. Unfortunately for me, the mud built up so quickly that it grabbed both front and back passenger side mud flaps and virtually tore them right off, the remains dangling by a small inch of plastic. As I discovered later, this was a $190 mistake. Drove along Carrizo Wash (EC 193) up to old Kane Spring Road, demarked by a barbed wire fence. From there, I headed west toward Bailey's Well and the old WWII airplane graveyard. The airplane graveyard and abandoned runway were easy to find (N 33deg 06.228' W 116deg 02.795') but I found no trace of Bailey's Well, a sparse wooden ruin, supposedly a few hundred yards southwest of the graveyard. Apparently the wooden remains were more sparse than I thought. Took a few shots of the collection of WWII airplane parts from outside the double barbed wire fence and was visited by a guy driving a Frankenstein vehicle checking to make sure I wasn't broken down. Very nice of him, actually. I indicated this was merely a map break to decide where to go next. After a quick read, the book of knowledge revealed there was a boiling mud pot six miles north of where I was. Seeing as the day was getting on, it was time to head on. Caught the SR-78 east to Pole Line Road and headed north. As I discovered later, I incorrectly chose the road with street sign rather than the unlabeled but correct road 50 yards east. My aired-down Toyota Tacoma and teeth enjoyed five miles of wobbling and undulating road. Moving along at a blistering 10 MPH, I anticipated an early morning arrival. Fortunately, I connected with the real Pole Line Road and made some real headway toward Gas Dome Trail. Trails out here are for vehicles, not the dusty stomp paths trudged by humans carrying the equivalent of a case of paper. By this time it was 110 degrees F and the air conditioning was keeping the cab a chilly 90 degrees. Not being deterred, I headed up to the strange water formations in the middle of the desert. The Gas Domes (33deg 10.694'N 115deg 56.995'W) are atop a flat hill covered in salt grasses in the alkali-whitened soil. There are two fenced-in paint pot looking holes bubbling with carbon dioxide from deep within the Earth. This looked like a great place to catch the pink hues of sunset across the landscape with thunder heads in the distant south. Not content with sitting waiting for that to happen, I headed down to the oil-test hole turned Artesia Well a mile south of the Gas Domes. The oil-test hole was drilled in the 1920's, ending with the crew striking hot water, ending the operation. In the mid-1930's, the U.S. Department of Interior capped the well and designated it a water reserve. Water still bubbles out of a pipe (33deg 09.977'N 115deg 56.537'W) west of the test hole. The sun was making it's daily dip into the west and spreading golden light across the landscape. Grabbing the camera gear, I attempted to capture the water rushing out of the pipe every couple of minutes. This water rush seemed to happen with decent regularity so it allowed me time to handle delicate camera gear in an increasingly uncomfortable wind driven sand blast delivering searing heat. Happy I'd captured what I wanted, I headed back to the Gas Domes into a blinding sunset, making it extremely difficult to navigate a narrow sandy wash in a vehicle with a 50% mud flap capacity. Up on the gas domes, the wind picked up skin scouring sand and delivered sweat-evaporating heat at a now cool 108 degrees F. Having only a few minutes as the sun dipped below the Cuyamaca peaks, I grabbed the Nikon D200, accompanying lenses and flash and protected the delicate glass from blowing sand determined to relieve me of equipment and money. Just as I set up, the sun began dropping below the western peaks and turning the thunderheads far to the south a delicate pink color. The perfect conditions for landscape sunset photography. Waiting until Earth's pink penumbra rose up in the eastern sky, I decided I had no desire to try and sleep in 95 degree heat with 20 MPH sand-filled wind gusts out in the Ocotillo Wells Vehicle Recreation Area. I tore back to Pole Line Road, connected with the daily driver friendly road and headed back to the 78 and headed west to Ocotillo Wells for dinner. Much to my stomach's dismay, Ocotillo Rose does not open until October so I am relegated to freeze-dried beef stroganoff. The one area likely to be protected from the wind is Fish Creek Primitive Camp just east of Split Mountain. I drove through the heated darkness to the camp and oriented the truck to block most of the now calmer breeze. Dinner was good and I set up my sleep area in the bed of the truck to stay cool as it was 95 degree F at 9PM. I'd put the freeze dried food container in the fire ring to prevent inquisitive visitors to my slumber area. Strange dreams came to me all night, making me think people were constantly walking around, ready to cause trouble. Every time I woke up ready for problems, there was nothing. Freeze-dried beef gives you some wild dreams. Discovered in the morning that I had visitors to the fire ring trying to chew on my leftovers. Now I know where the walking sounds in my crazy dreams came from - nocturnal coyotes looking for a meal. Ocotillo cacti were set against a beautiful orange and cobalt blue sun rise. This only lasts but a few minutes so I had to work quickly, stumbling up a granite rubble covered hill while avoiding any angry rattlesnakes. All rattlesnakes are made angry just by waking up every day. Not content to head home, I aired up the tires for highway driving and headed over to the Salton Sea since I'd never wandered over there in all my years living in southern California. I quickly found out why. If you are not an ecologist or birder, the Salton Sea is a place of death. Every line where the shoreline receded, a line of dead fish creates a staggered line along Navy Test Road. The people in Salton City are quite nice, offsetting the smell of the Sea. One of the airport sites considered for a new San Diego airport is located five miles west of the Salton Sea in the literal middle of nowhere at a fairly abandoned airstrip. Wow, I need to get paid to think up such crazy things. By now it was time to head home, so I drove on the Borrego-Salton Seaway, S-22, toward Temecula through Borrego Springs and up Montezuma Grade. Ocotillo Wells is a great place to visit and photograph. Perhaps not in the late desert heat and sand driven winds, though. Bring a reliable vehicle, don't drive foolishly and carry plenty of water. You never want to use your safety equipment because it means things have gotten interesting. But when interesting times happen, be ready. See some of last year's photographs here.
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