californiadesertlands.docVIP

California desert lands ---- a tribute to sublime desolation 老鸭叔叔手打 a jet blasted overhead: gray thunder on the fly.the california desert sky is used by the armed forces for aerial practice, and though the jets are restricted to a certain distance above parklands, that doesnt mute them much . they sound like the concentrated fury of all the beasts of war. yet they seemed to fit this routh and wild place. under sporadic cover of F-18s, i bingoed on up to the mojave preserve, past yet another salt lake, another range of mountains newly wrapped in official wilderness designation, and a sidewinder on the road. It was oddly curled on the sand. it didnt move even for euclids roar. i stopped. it arched away a few feet, leaving characteristic S tracks. i saw what had kept it moored: it had been wrapped tightly around the dead body of another sidewinder. i always thought it only myth that rattlesnakes came back to dead mates. maybe not. Hard landscape, bad roads. now the jeeps battery started only about one try of three. i parked on a hill and climbed high into the granite mountains, crossing most of the ecosystems of the mojave preserve--- creosote bush to joshua tree forest and eventually to an aerie at almost 6,000 feet, rimmed with golden rock, where i dozed in cool sunlight, awash in the aroma of pinons. Driving up a straight road toward a wall of gray stone called the old dad mountains, i saw in the distance what looked a layer of brown stratus clouds floating against somber foothills--- 560-foot-high kelso dunes. Photographer peter essick and i hiked up into kelso dunes at sunset, just after a spring storm. light, wind, clouds, and moisture madly painted a scene full of color and movement. as always, the desert exaggerated. the reds are all scarlet, wrote van dyke, familiar with this flamboyance, the yellows are like burnished brass, the oranges like shining gold. the sky thrashed about with its great brush of wind, creating impossible delicacy in mere moments, then t