desert fuckin blooms

Sweet ole jamie sent me a nytimes article about Death Valley in bloom. This was appropriate because our first date-- so many years ago --was a roadtrip to Death Valley (one of the hottest, lowest and driest place on earth) that segued into a romance in las vegas and a 3 year relationship culminating in mudville.

But this year, because of all the rains, Death Valley is in full surreal bloom. There is apparently even a lake that has miraculously reformed.

Death Valley is a great, great place for a first date. They have neat names like Devil's Golf Course, Badwater, Furnace Creek, Zabriskie Point (hey, wasn't that a movie?), Last Chance Mountain and more than its fair share of ghost towns. On the brighter side, there is a lovely little spot that goes by the name Skidoo. Also not to be missed, is the rare and allusive desert bighorn sheep. Devil's Golf Course, the lowest point in the western hemisphere, is a place that feels dense and sluggish, the kinda place you could happily fall into a deep, deep sleep.

So yeah, first dates. I asked him out, to a road trip to vegas. Much of the date though, gained significance on its first leg in Death Valley. We camped out under the stars, wandered around in the extreme climate and resisted the urge to discover each other for as long as we could possibly hold out.

I also thought we were going to die in the wilderness on this date. We mistakenly took an unpaved road, one which claimed it would ultimately lead to a secluded not-to-be-missed waterfall. 9 hours later, we were driving 5 mph on large boulders, although 4 wheel drive we had not. Nor did we have anything in the way of provisions (we were car camping after all) and we were running low on gas. The only car we had seen in the past 6 hours had a gun rack and wheels larger than my puny pickup. It was getting dark, we hoped we were headed for the town of pinewood, and I truly thought we would never see civilization again.

Somehow we finally did make it to a real road, at the other end of the park, and our relationship was consummated that very night in a motel in pinewood where I was most grateful to be alive. So you could say Death Valley kinda cinched the deal.

By vegas we were in love.

So here's to deserts everywhere, unexpectedly in bloom, and their limitless sheltering skies.