Landmark Review #900
For the last landmark review that I will pen before the Milestone Review #1,000; the spotlight is on a landscape that has been a major part of my life living in Las Vegas: The Mojave Desert. During my years living in Las Vegas I have grown attached to a place that is Sun City in lieu of Sin City. Over the past five years yelping, I have shared my adventures in the Las Vegas sun by writing reviews on the hiking trails and open spaces of the Mojave Desert. This review is a celebration of the smallest and driest desert of the United States.
My relationship with the open spaces of the Mojave Desert started from this checkin-location when I was a Florida resident visiting my brother in the summer of 2003. My first impression of the desert was of a land to pass through quickly between Southern California and Primm. It was a place that seemed intimidating. The signs at the rest stop warned of rattle snakes and spiders. The World's Largest Thermometer displayed temperatures higher than the Stratosphere. As we were cruising on Interstate 15 headed back from a day along the Pacific Ocean to Las Vegas, I'd never known that a year into the future that I would move to Las Vegas and that the Desert would become my playground. Instead of seeing spiders and rattlesnakes, I'd be hiking in harmony with bighorn sheep, bunny rabbits, chipmunks, birds, lizards, and other amazing wildlife. Little did I know that instead of wanting to race down the I-15 to Disneyland that the Mojave Desert would be my Disneyland with attractions including the Lake Mead National Recreation Area, Red Rock Canyon National Conservation Area, Death Valley National Park, Spring Mountains National Recreation Area, Sloan Mountain National Conservation Area, and the Valley of Fire.
From spending so many hours in the Mojave Desert, I learned that the desert being lifeless is just a myth. The Mojave Desert that I know of is a landscape of extremes. Driving on Interstate 15 motorists pass through a typical freeway landscape where the highway passes through the gentlest topography of the desert that include the Ivanpah Dry Lake where the freeway leaves California for Primm, Nevada. Only a few miles away from Interstate 15, nature abounds in the desert. Near Boulder City there is a Teddy bear cholla forest. Up in the La Madre Wilderness Area, hillsides of pinyin pine border a spring fed Creek. In the heart of Las Vegas, desert springs come to life in the Springs Preserve. In the shadow of Lake Las Vegas, the Las Vegas Wash is a river rapid rushing through riparian forest shorelines toward the Lake Mead basin. Up in Spring Mountain Ranch State Park, the desert is a forest. Five thousand feet higher the Mojave Desert is a bristlecone forest. In the Spring acres of the desert floor come to life in the wildflower bloom. I am grateful to have spent hours exploring these landscapes.
The Mojave Desert is a land of extremes. At 282 feet below sea level, Badwater Basin in Death Valley is the lowest elevation in North America. At the opposite extreme, at nearly 15,000 feet above sea level Mount Charleston is one of the highest elevations in Nevada.
The Mojave Desert is also a world of amazement. Valley of Fire is the home of the Elephant Rock and the River Mountains is the home of the Magic Tree. The most amazing accomplishment was creating a lake in the middle of the desert. Lake Mead really puts an end to the myth that the desert is lifeless.
I could write indefinitely about the Mojave Desert until hitting a brick wall with the Yelp character limit. Instead I will leave off with an early 1970s oldie by America called "A Horse with No Name." I have changed some lyrics. This oldie is a singing word picture that paints a picture of my adventures in the Mojave Desert:
"On the first part of the journey I was looking at all the light. There were plants and birds & rocks & things. There were sand, & hills, & rings. The first thing I met was a flower abuzz and cumulus clouds. The heat was hot & the ground was dry & the air was full of sound. I've been through the desert on a trail with no name, it felt good to be out of the rain. In the desert you can't remember your name because there ain't no one to give you no blame. La La La La La La. La La La La La.... " read more