Winds of Calico
November 11, 2002
Heading west on I-40 from sunny Needles, AZ, we could see the dark clouds forming ahead. The weather channel had shown a very large storm approaching the coast of California. We hoped to beat this storm to Bakersfield, where we could wait out the storm in an RV park with access to overnight phone hookups and thus, Internet service. Because our mail had been delayed by the US Postal Service, we had missed traveling the day before, when the weather was great. We checked our RV Campground directory for RV Parks along the way in case the rains and winds arrived early. Sure enough, they did! As we passed between the Providence and Old Woman Mountains, the winds were pushing our 35 foot, flat-sided, sail-like motorhome into a wandering path, and caused it to shudder when we were caught in the vortex winds behind 18-wheel trucks.
On one long climb up over one of several remote, desert, mountain passes, an apparition appeared off to the left on a highway lane being repaired. It first appeared to be a tall fellow walking uphill. But he did not exhibit a walking gait. On closer examination, I could see that he was riding on a large unicycle -- leaning into the wind and the uphill climb. A short beep on our horn triggered a wave from our 40ish, bearded roadmate – but he did not take his eyes off the road. Oh yes, we had definitely arrived in California!
By the time we reached Barstow, the winds had exceeded my adventure threshold. If the winds were strong in Barstow, they would likely be much stronger and more dangerous in Tehachapi Pass – through which we must travel to reach Bakersfield. The local RV Park options were a KOA or a San Bernardino County park. We opted for the Calico County Park because the park description sounded more interesting. It was advertised as an RV park within the Calico ghost town. The $20 camping fee also covered admission into the ghost town. Walter Knott, of Knott’s Berry Farm fame, had purchased Calico and then had donated it to the county. Some of the old buildings had been restored and much of the history preserved. Although there are 31 shops, displaying such specialties as woodworking, crafts, rocks, spices, pottery or leather-working stuff, there is also a museum, restaurants, trails through the hills, tours of silver mines and lots of other interesting things. One of the most interesting components is the cemetery. One of the inscriptions, “Daisy Dooley (1887) She came to town one day, wasn’t long before she went astray, she leaves the town today, to a better place we pray” suggests the colorful characters that lived here. Or, “Slip McVey (1847-1884) he might be here today but bum whiskey and a bad gun put him away.” Or how about “Wes Wescott (1887-1898), Hung in his youth, ‘twas a sad mistake when we found the truth.”
“Sorry, Wes, for this small mistake,” we might add.
Anyway, after a day of roaming the town, climbing the colorful hills, enjoying the characters in its history and spitting sand out of our teeth, we decided that the wind was still too strong for traveling across the pass. Instead, we jumped into the Honda and drove to Upland to visit our son, Jimmy and his family, Shenda, Auston & Kynwyn. As we left the park and looked down across the valley, a layer of brown dust in the air obscured the hills on the other side of the valley. As we headed south through Cajon Pass and began the long descent into the San Bernardino area, the first drops of rain began to fall. The intensity of the rain increased as we descended until the heavy traffic on I-15 and the intense rain produced fog-like conditions as autos and trucks kicked up mist as they passed. The song about “It never rains in Southern California” by the Beach Boys or somebody, kept running through my brain.
When we felt a little unsafe at 55 MPH, some folks passed us at about 80 MPH. Now we faced a dilemma. If we traveled too slow, someone might hit us in the rear. If we went too fast, we risked hydroplaning. Although most autos traveled with lights on, we could barely see the tail lights in the car directly in front. We sought an optimal speed and kept a safe space behind cars in front of us until we reached Upland. Euclid Ave., which runs uphill from I-10 to Jimmy’s house, had streams of water running down both curbs, so that crossing traffic cut large wakes in the water as they passed. Shenda was arriving by plane from Washington, so we all went to pick her up at the Ontario Airport. Then we spent a few hours watching the Aggies beating Oklahoma on TV (Way to go Ags) and hoping that the rain would stop before we left for the return trip. No such luck! It continued to rain all the way back up to the high desert and continued to rain there too. But it did not rain enough in the desert to really settle the dust. When we arrived at the campground, we found that it had rained just enough so that the dust stuck to every raindrop on our motorhome. The wind was maybe blowing harder than ever.
The winds ultimately blew hard for three days before we could safely maneuver the pass leading to Bakersfield.
Over the years, we have greatly enjoyed the Mojave Desert. It is a great place to explore in the fall or spring, when temperatures are favorable for outdoor activities. But when the winds blow hard in the desert, there are better places to be. With the wheels on our home, we can seek out these preferred places.
No comments:
Post a Comment