Stuck in Palm Springs

Our intent was to be here a week.  But unrelated to the small fiasco I wrote about in the previous post, we have had some bouts with an overheating engine.  The light would come on, typically going uphill, Husband would back off the throttle, it would go off.  So last week he found a truck mechanic nearby.  We're now on the third nonconsecutive day, of running tests.  At least the appearance of this shop encourages much more confidence than Smitty's did.

The culprit has been narrowed down to the fan controller and the fix will be either:  1. reprogram the controller, or 2. replace it.

Right now it's on its third trip to the mechanic, as we have had to work around his overloaded schedule.   At least we can drive it back to the RV park each time.  Might I add .... "bringing in" a motorhome is not at all like taking a car somewhere.  It must be prepped for moving which can take anywhere from 15 to 30 minutes or more (depending on how settled in we've been) and navigated out of the space it's been quietly occupying.  Plus, while it is gone, we are homeless.   So, to end a long, dull story, we are currently in limbo.

But hey ...... Palm Springs.  Who's complaining?  It's 70 degrees.  We have a swimming pool, a hot tub, pickle ball courts, miniature golf, friendly neighbors, and a large portion of south-central California to explore.  Which we've been doing.

About 40 miles away is Joshua Tree National Park which was created by God of course, but with the help of Dr. Seuss.  We did a quick exploratory drive there a few days ago and then returned to it on the motorcycle.  A few pictures:

These odd creations are the Joshua Trees after which the park was named.  I just learned, via a sign in the park,  the name came from Mormon pioneers who thought the trees looked like Joshua of the Bible, when "he raised his hands to the sky in prayer" ...... and if you can find this story in the Bible, please let me know ..... because I can't.

And this gem below is by the Husband, who loves to play with night photos and lighting ..... including that from headlights of a passing car.

But in my opinion, the rocks steal the show.  This one is called Skull Rock.

Below is the cholla cactus, (pronounced choy-ya).  Don't touch.  Those prickles are nasty.

When the sun hits it just right, it lights up.  (Not in this photo.)

We also did a motorcycle ride around the Salton Sea, a sad mishap of nature and man.

With no where to drain, it's very salty and is polluted by algae (mostly) and local farming pesticides (secondary) so it is more of a blight, than the lovely lake one would expect it to be.  The water is a blackish brown, with an odor.   It has an interesting history.

We stopped, along with a friendly group of Harley-riders, for burritos at a homey little cafe in the tiny town(?) of Niland.

Which sat next to this.

A couple of the towns we passed through on this ride weren't bad, but nowhere I'd choose to live.  (An understatement.)  In one area, you can buy a lake-front building lot for under $8,000.

It's sad, in my opinion.  Disclaimer:  I am not a fan of California.  Many of the coastal areas that I've been to are nice, but too many are plagued with crazy traffic.  A lot of what we've seen is seedy.  Palm Springs is upscale and appealing, but a few miles out, you're back to seedy.  The economy for many of the rural areas does not appear to be going well.  Mexican culture has spread across the border, judging by the music in the stores, products sold, and Spanish spoken everywhere ..... which I'm not at all saying is a bad thing, it's just very evident.  (Everyone here seems to have a favorite local Mexican restaurant they're happy to recommend.)   Poverty permeates the air in areas where it shouldn't be .... although, I can't think where it should be.   Some of the towns looked like the money spent to build them, quickly ran out.  A big part of the problem is the drought.  A lot of barren, dry land, that should be full of citrus and almond orchards, is for sale   And without going into politics, I'm not a fan of what's happening here in that department either.

So yesterday we hiked a beautiful slot canyon, called Painted Canyon, near Mecca, CA.  It was over five miles of sand, ladders, rock scrambling, and views.  If you ever do this, get a good map online and copy it to your phone.  They say you can't get lost if you stick to the trails.  We have proven that to be false.   (And we had a map!)

This canyon, they say, sits atop the infamous San Andreas fault.  I tried not to think about earthquakes during this part.

It's easy to see this was once a huge mud flow because the canyon walls were made up of dried mud which, apparently, anciently flowed from who-knows-where, picking up every type of rock along the way.  This is a close-up shot:

All in all, generally the scenery here is not pretty.   (Sorry, but I can't quite shake my inner Oregon snob.)   Too brown.  Too arid.  Too many mountains look like someone dug a big hole somewhere, trucked the dirt to here, and dumped it in big piles.  The really big mountains are pretty because they are still topped with snow and the palm trees are always way cool.  

Palm Springs itself is not what I expected.  Instead of it being all resorts, golf courses, and expensive boutiques as I have pictured for years, it has a charming, almost funky downtown with lots of shops, restaurants, and cafes .....  

.... where you MUST try a date shake (says my sister, Susan) from one of many shops who ALL say they make the best.

So I guess, if you have to be stuck somewhere, this ain't bad. 

Podcasts and other stuff

I admit it.  I really really like my new iPhone.  I resisted getting one until my little flip phone died.  The only upgraded feature I thought I needed was easier texting ...... but Verizon determined that going "smart" was the only way.

I had my iPad Mini which I dearly love.  The screen is big enough to READ stuff on it.  My fingers fit on the keypad.  It slips into my purse.  I had all I needed.  Life was good.

But I didn't realize the advantages of a smart phone.  The two biggest differences between phones and tablets are, obviously, one is a phone and one isn't.  And one fits in my pocket and one doesn't.

Um......yeah.   So?

My preferred form of exercise has lapsed from running back to walking.  I don't know if this is a permanent change or not, but since my sixties arrived a few months ago, I am cutting myself a little more slack.  I LOVED what running did for me and the pounds that it kept off, and I LOVED the events and social life it brought me.  But I didn't LOVE running in and of itself...... except for those wonderful two or three minutes at the start of a leg in a relay when I felt like I owned the world.  Regular daily runs were hard, boring, and lonely.

My phone has become my walking partner.  It talks to me about any subject I choose.   My iPad talks to me too, but it insists I carry it in a purse or backpack.  Pockets are better.   So.... how do they talk?  Podcasts!  Podcasts are audio commentaries, discussions, articles, blogs, or whatever can be produced via sound.  Podcasts are almost as good as walking with an actual person.  Almost... maybe.

I am always perusing the net for new podcasts and my cache is full of favorite subjects like politics, religion, history, and my latest obsession -- camping and/or RVing.  I'm powered by my frustration at Liberals in our government, and educated on how composting toilets work and why we all need one.  I am uplifted by spiritual topics and motivated to go camping in Yosemite.  I also can download audio books like the one I just finished about backpacking the entire Appalachian Trail.  And is it just me, or does everyone marvel at how the sound automatically stops when I get a call and resumes (on its own!) after the call ends?

Another cool thing about my phone is that afterwards, it tells me, via a GPS, how far I walked w/o me having to instruct it that I'll want that info at some point later on.  It just does it whether I ask for it or not.  (How it differentiates between miles traveled on foot and miles traveled in a car, I don't know.  Please explain that to me, if you do.)

If you are unfamiliar with podcasts, you can find them somewhere in iTunes..... or look for this in your app store.

Add it to your existing apps and then start searching for whatever topic you want and subscribe.  They're all free.  Or if you're really savvy and clever and can speak without stumbling over your own tongue, you can start your own podcast, like my friends Heather and Josh did.  They fell in love with backpacking on our last hike together and decided to tell the world.  I happily await their weekly episodes each Tuesday.

Anyway, give it a try.  Go for a walk.  I recommend conquering some thigh-killing hills to offset that weight you picked up, like I did since I stopped running.  Don't forget your earbuds and your phone and burn some calories while you catch up on the latest sordid scandals in DC, or the ins and outs of installing solar panels on your RV.  You know you want to.

Our Attempt at the Portland 4T Hike

When the rain stops, the sky clears, and it's Friday when Husband occasionally doesn't have to work ...... we play.

Things we like to do:  Ride bikes .... shop ..... hike ....... road trips .... and, um ....  Okay, so our list is small.  Always needing to burn some calories, I investigated a hike I'd heard about, presented it to Husband, and got the green light.  The Portland 4T.

The 4Ts are trail, tram, trolley, and train ... in that order, and it went like this:

We started at the zoo, or rather in the zoo parking lot where we stashed our car.  Then we headed south on foot across the freeway and up a trail that was still soggy from the downpours of the two previous days.  Stupid me for not thinking about mud in my choice of footwear.

This trail wound up through typical lush, soaked-in-green Oregon forest.

 Beyond this initial trail, we had the option of more trails or streets.  We chose the streets and left the mud behind.  There are 4T signs along the way, not to be confused with SW Trail signs which promptly led us off in the wrong direction down a road near where I lived during my high school years.  I love these older neighborhoods with unique designer homes that were obviously built before the concept of production building and "cookie cutter" sameness and before anyone had thought through the eventual need for a garage and actual parking.  Each home is a work of art, with colonials, craftsmans, victorians, cape cods, moderns, tudors, etc., all perched along the narrow roads.  No two are alike and I love them all.

After discovering our mistake we headed back up and arrived at Council Crest Park, the highest point in Portland, where the radio towers puncture the clouds.  The view is spectacular.

And when you are at Council Crest Park, you MUST stand in the very center of the rock pavilion and declare boldly, "Portland Rocks!"   I did not make this up.  Just do it and see what happens.

Then we wound down through more delightful homes wherein, I'm sure, people live happy/cozy lives, and made it to OHSU among Portland's massive complex of hospitals, medical school, and other health-related institutions, and to......

The tram (2nd T) ..... which gave us a free ride down to the valley floor (you only pay going up) and then we did another half mile walk to the Spaghetti Factory which we sadly discovered was closed for the afternoon.  Darn.  So we caught the trolley heading downtown (3rd T).  Now here's a curiosity:  You are supposed to buy a ticket at a machine at the trolley stop, which we did ....... but no one ever collected it.  We never even saw a driver.

The trolley took us (and a friendly but very loud woman with her "therapy/service" dog NAMED  GINGER AND SHE IS FIVE AND A HALF YEARS OLD, AND THEY'VE BEEN TOGETHER SINCE SHE (the dog) WAS TEN WEEKS OLD AND SHE'S THE SMARTEST DOG IN THE WORRRRLD, BLAH BLAH BLAH BLAH BLAH BLAH BLAH BLAH ............, to the grand old County library on 10th, where we escaped and began a search for food.  A few minutes away, we found a block full of sidewalk food venders and decided on Thai.  Then we found a low stone wall on which to sit, well away from the scruffy looking fellow asleep on a bench.

The food?  Meh.  It was so-so.  But the little gal inside was sweet.

We then headed a couple of blocks back to catch the Max .... Portland's public transit train ... AKA the last T. Again we dutifully bought our tickets from the machine and again, no contact with a driver and no one collecting tickets.  You have to wonder if we were the only dopes on the train who paid for the ride, because you just walk on and walk off.  No wonder it needs to be subsidized!  It can't be making it in fares!

The Max dropped us off in an underground station where we boarded elevators that brought us back up to daylight and ..... VOILA!  The zoo parking lot!  Right where they said it would be.  Who would have thought!?

All in all, it took us about four hours with about five miles of walking, and we're giving it a thumbs up.  You get woodsy forest, fascinating homes, gorgeous views, the city, and a few rumpled panhandlers tossed in for good measure.

****************

Tips:
1. Don't depend on the signs.  Either carry a good map or access to the internet and/or a GPS.  You will need it.
2. They sell fudge at the Zoo shop.  Just saying.
3. You may or may not decide to buy trolley or train tickets, but you didn't hear it from me.
4.  Pass on the Thai food.  You're better off with a burger.
5.  Plan for mud.  This is Oregon.  It rains here.

(Update:  I heard they do random checks and there's a nasty fine if they catch you without a ticket.)