Into the wilds of Joshua Tree

Desert camping dramas in the depths of winter & Rock 'n' Roll myth and legend

We have circled our three Winnebago RVs like covered wagons around the campfire on a freezing, brilliantly clear December night in the desert just outside of Joshua Tree National Park, in Southern California’s Yucca Valley. Named for the region’s twisted, bristled trees, this vast southern California wilderness is where the two distinct desert ecosystems of the Mojave and the cactus dotted Colorado, meet in a surreal high desert landscape of unearthly rock formations.

It’s also an area that’s steeped in rock’n’ roll myth and legend, starting with the bizarre death and partial ‘burial’ of Gram Parsons in 1973 at Cap Rock in Twentynine Palms, through U2’s ‘The Joshua Tree’ album and the community of musicians from Paul McCartney, Robert Plant and the Arctic Monkeys that have played warm up gigs and secret shows at Pappy and Harriet’s, a restaurant, bar and music venue in Pioneertown. Meanwhile, Iggy Pop, PJ Harvey and the Foo Fighters are among those who have recorded albums at Dave Catching’s Rancho de la Luna studio.

Our travel companions might not be music business royalty but they’re interesting nonetheless, as we’re making this trip with a couple of full-bore English eccentrics we’ve never met before who answer to the nicknames of ‘Bugs’, a distinguished Entomologist specializing in the study of the African Fruit Fly and ‘Pots’, a redoubtable Egyptologist. Two dear friends from London complete our party. Despite the freezing temperatures Bugs has resolutely kept his safari style shorts on all evening, whilst our woefully underdressed family has vowed to make a stop at the Yucca Valley Walmart to buy fleeces and extra blankets the first order of business in the morning. All that’s missing for our daughter are s’mores and marshmallows to toast, but otherwise she could not be more excited, as the family that ‘does not do camping’, finally sleeps under the stars in the desert.

Keeping the heating on all night in our RV would have flattened the battery, so reluctantly we retired to our freezing ‘overhead cab’ double bed wearing every item of clothing we’ve packed and spent a fitful night. As the heavy morning dew leaked through the rotting window seals onto our sleeping bag, I did the right thing and volunteered to clamber down the ladder to turn the heating back on full blast. We are the lucky ones, as the other RVs have neither heat nor hot water this morning, and to make matters worse our London friends have blocked the kitchen sink drain in their vehicle with their breakfast coffee grounds, which are now backing up their shower too.

From this inauspicious start has emerged a memorable day in which we took the panoramic six and a half mile ‘Black Rock’ hike up to a ridge past ghostly Joshua trees and ate our picnic surrounded by mountain peaks, some of them snow covered. Back at the RV Park it’s time to empty the sewage tanks on our vehicles- a disturbingly aromatic experience, which had me washing and re-washing my hands afterwards more often than Lady Macbeth. We then drove in beautiful afternoon light through otherworldly piles of boulders to Cottonwood Spring in the far south of Joshua Tree National Park for another convivial evening around the campfire. Sabrina barbecued some of the finest Korean short ribs we’ve had before or since, after the sun set gloriously behind our Joshua tree encircled encampment and we toasted our feet and the s’mores and marshmallows we also picked up at Walmart, on the flames.

The next morning over breakfast, after a second sleep-challenged night, the resolve of even the toughest members of the party is beginning to crack. Pots, of all people has spoken up first, demanding that Bugs immediately take her to the nearest motel, adamant she can’t stand another moment without a hot shower.

Levels of desperation for hot running water and clean sheets are not quite that elevated for the rest of us. So before breaking camp we scramble up nearby Mastodon Peak under cloudless skies, then take a (more than slight) detour through the Mecca Valley and the bizarre, flyblown Salton Sea, which will make that hot shower we’re all looking forward to so much, even more irresistible!