My Summer Vacation in the High Desert: Plinking, Looking for Rocks and Old bottles

It’s only late in life, after getting past a stroke that kicked my ass, I’ve learned how important vacations are to my overall “well being.”

            In the last 10 years of my career I took one vacation, but the nature of my job forced me to work four of the ten days I took off. I regret that I didn’t take more time off,. As my work habits literally eroded my health.

            Now I take real vacations, and later this morning I’m taking off for three days in the high desert. My gear is already packed and loaded in the back of my car:  my geologists’ hammer (which has a pick on one end and a flat anvil on the other, my camera, a custom rebuilt Ruger 10/22 with a bull barrel, customized trigger assembly, new stock and a Nikon scope, and a 500-rounds of CCI Blazer .22 long rifle ammunition, water, ice chest with chow and a selection of tie dyed t-shirts, and of course my cell phone, quarter section maps and X300 notebook.

            Although I write mostly about venues like the East Fork of the San Gabriel River

, I also love the desert and still try to get out to it as much as I can.

            One of my favorite desert activities is the quaint American past time of “plinking” with a .22. I take a lot of pride in my ability to hit what I’m shooting at and the California desert provides ample safe shooting space for me to pop 200 to 500 rounds safely while concentrating on my shooting skills.

            I also love the desert for it’s geology.  There are a lot of old quartz deposits between Hesperia and Las Vegas and I’m going to try and hit at least two of them today. And in the high desert, where’s there’s quartz, there’s also ample evidence of failed gold mining attempts. 

            The thing I like the most about old Gold diggings are the remains of civilization you find on such sites. It’s always nice to bring home an old sun-tinted whiskey or soda bottle to add to my small collection in the backyard.

            There’s something else I really love about the southern California

high desert;. The sound of heavily laden freight trains blasting down from Las Vegas like blustery Zephyrs.

            Late at night I love hearing the south bound four-locomotive power packs. If you listen carefully you hear the distinct sound  of the incoming air going across wire grates in front of the diesel’s superchargers. And just as soon as you hear the locomotives pass, the sound changes and the desert quickly goes so quiet you swear you can hear the fabric of the ionosphere tearing as meteors slash overhead in an ink black sky.

            I’ve always found the high desert very exciting. The time I spend there today instantly reminds me of when I was much younger, listening to explanations of desert geography and man’s attempts to tame it while noting the distant braying of a wild burro miles away, trying to get a response from an equally distant wild burro. Of such small sounds, packs are formed.

            So for the next three days I’m off tgo rejuvenate my batteries, smash a few rocks, shoot my .22 at targets carefully paced 100 steps away, and generally watch shooting stars. And, I may even get up to Las Vegas

to replenish my supplies of maritime emergency signaling devices. Jim Forbes on08/26/2008

Comments

[Jack Hughes]

Have to agree with the holidays... you can't take too many! I just had a short break cycling down to Beverley (http://www.beverleyminster.org/) from York staying in the lee of the cathedral in a youth hostel housed in an old friary (http://www.yha.org.uk/find-accommodation/yorkshire-wold-moors-coast/hostels/beverley-friary/index.aspx). Very pleasant I must say.