Tag: Baker

The Bone Yard

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In the far back right corner of our property sits a grouping of trees and cactus and rocks. And a bone yard.

We bought this house and property from a lovely elderly couple. The bone yard is their work. I am no anthropologist but I’m saying its Dinosaur.

If I was my 8 year old self it would be. Guaranteed. Dinosaur.

Bones scattered as far as my 8 year old child’s eye and mind can imagine! Bones everywhere! Bones hiding under trees so there’s actually some shade and relief from the awful heat! Can it get any better?

My adult self is jealous.

Growing up I was told to go outside to play. Now people I want you to really think about that. If you have read my post “Desert Cred” you know part of my childhood was spent in Baker CA.” Gateway to Death Valley”. I’m living in the hottest, middle of nowhere desert and I’m told to “go outside and play.” That’s when I learned to catch lizards.

Thanks Mom.

Actually the 8 year old me had moved to a much larger desert town by comparison… Hesperia CA (This is 1976 and that was a joke)

Now, I had hoped, if I’m lucky, there is another child possibly my age living somewhere only miles away. But no, sadly my hour morning bus ride to school proved all ten or 12 of us desert children were separated by miles and miles of not much.

So I played outside alone. Don’t feel pity. I’m a desert kid. I’m desert strong. I can play outside in the heat alone. Please.

The shrubs and bushes and trees by my home in Hesperia did not have a hidden bone yard for me to uncover. Had it, I would have never come back inside the house.

I used to steal my mom’s spoons and go dig in the dirt, mostly believing I was digging a tunnel to my best friend’s house so we didn’t have to keep asking for rides to each other’s houses. 1976. No cell phones just one loud main phone ringing to announce that you want your friend to come over with her spoon to dig in the dirt with you. That means asking one of the Moms to drive you over in the station wagon, leave you there and then drive back a few hours later to pick you up. Oh and it’s 110 degrees outside.

So I would dig alone.

Eight year old me would have died and gone to heaven had I found ANYTHING let alone a whole bone! My little heart wouldn’t have been able to take a whole YARD of bones!

So yes, still after more than eight months living here I get twinges of jealousy when I glance over at the bone yard. I know I can’t just plop down there and dig with one of my spoons. It’s not the same. And I really don’t need to by secretly photographed doing that either.

The bone yard will stay as it is. No raking it up or clearing it away. This treasure is waiting for future generations to discover.

Superstition Mountain Museum

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Wanna go someplace fun? Something other than some big budget movie or a mall? You should. Do it. Take a drive over to the Superstition Mountain Museum. http://www.superstitionmountainmuseum.org

What a cool place!

Inside the Museum you get the honor of speaking with volunteers who are just amazing. Beyond the hospitality they show and the warmth, these individuals are a wealth of information.

We got the privilege to talk with Historian Jim Swanson while we were there and I hope to have many more visits with him. Though I am born and raised desert this man to me is the real deal. Riding horses into the Superstition for years now he has stories you can’t imagine. I felt like a city dweller next to him and I lived in Baker CA. so that says a lot! Think I saw a small twinkle in his eye, a moment of desert cred, when I told him that I had lived at the Gateway to Death Valley. But it PALES in comparison when you imagine him on horseback being shot at riding through the Superstition. I bow down not worthy. With really cool intense enthusiasm from a hardened desert veteran he shared routes to get some of THE best views. If you don’t go meet this man you’re truly missing out.

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Right down from our house used to be an old movie studio that made westerns. The Apacheland Movie Ranch. Elvis starred in one called Charro! That movie studio burned down but what remained they moved to the museum.imageimage

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imageimageSo not only can you get a tour inside of the museum itself but then you can wander around the old movie studio area and even head into the Elvis Memorial Chapel to get a picture with the King. imageThey show movies in there and keep the schedule in the gift shop. We met Doris volunteering in the chapel. She would be more than happy to take your photo with Elvis and hang out and talk. Her husband John volunteers in the gift shop. It is so nice to go somewhere that you are treated like you are welcome to be there and people talk to you never once looking at a phone. If that’s going back in time then yes, take me.

You need to go!

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Desert Cred

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I’m born and raised desert. Born in Las Vegas raised in the deserts of Southern California. I am one of a handful of people who can actually say they lived in Baker CA.

Not Bakersfield.

Baker. “The Gateway to Death Valley” is what the sign says if you stop there for soda or gas on your way to or from Las Vegas off the 15. Baker has a huge thermometer telling you it’s hot. Not much else to see. Death Valley is the obviously more famous attraction.

Our family lived there for a couple of years when I was in 2nd and 3rd grade. My father worked for the phone company. They housed roughly 30 families out in the middle of nowhere Baker so the workers could go to the different mountains and probably set up the stations and towers most of us use for phone services today. Or I could be entirely wrong and whatever they worked on 40 years ago has been replaced by a tiny machine. Truly no clue. None the less it was why I lived in Baker in the 70’s and was really the start of me being a desert kid. I remember catching lizards with some of the other kids and bringing them home to mom hoping to get to keep them as a pets.

From there work moved my father and everyone else in our Baker compound, ugh I probably forgot to mention, the houses where we were lived were all built in this community type style fenced in as a group. It became a minimum security prison later or so I was told! Any way they moved everyone to the High Desert. Victorville, Hesperia and Apple Valley. Dad built our house in Hesperia.

One of my chores growing up was weeding. Mostly tumble weeds but the usual prickly bad guys were there too. In oversized gloves dad had already used countless times that were full of thorns I would be sent to a section of fencing to clear along. Oh man my dad would get mad if I just broke the top of the weed off and didn’t try to get the root and all. I am not lying he would check. This is the same man who would say “Good afternoon.” to me at 9 am on a Saturday and scowl because I had slept in so late.

I lost part of my pinkie finger in an accident at the dump due to yard work. It’s a long story I will write at another time when safety becomes a topic.

What took me way too long to get at is I’m by no means a professional desert anything. I am not a plant/cactus expert, nature guru, whatever nor am I claiming to be or even in school to become any of that. No, I have just lived and done yard work in the desert a really long time so hopefully when I say it’s hot out or don’t touch that or you probably shouldn’t it’s with some old school desert credibility.

Here in AZ we have plants and animals that only live in this desert. I want to share some pretty awesome stuff with those of you who may never make it to this part of the world. Or maybe I can inspire you to come see it and experience it yourself.

In the roughly three weeks we have been in our new home I already have stories… and its with that I bring you this blog.