Anza-Borrego Desert State Park

Anza-Borrego Desert State Park is the largest state park in California. It lies on the eastern edge of San Diego County, with parts of it extending into Riverside and Imperial Counties. The park is well known for its wild flowers in the spring, hiking trails, camping, diverse animal population, and unique beauty. For now, the park is closed, like so many others across the country, due to CONVID-19.

It has only been in the past couple years that I discovered the beauty of the desert. I was born a mountain lover and used to turn my nose up at the seemingly barren, uninteresting landscape of the desert. A couple recent desert visits changed my view forever. The desert—Anza-Borrego, specifically—is anything but barren and uninteresting.

From a distance, the desert looks drab. From the inside, it is a colorful place. Flowering desert plants, patches of flowering ground cover, reddish sand, striated cliffs and boulders, and minerals of red, white, and black are just some of nature’s swatches this desert hides from those who don’t venture in. In the spring, Anza-Borrego explodes in color in the form of wildflowers, giving even the most desert-averse the gift of its underappreciated beauty.

This is a gorgeous example of spring in Anza-Borrego. This is not my photo. Attribution is given in the caption below.

I can’t take credit for this photo. Instead, this talented person took it: https://creativecommons.org/licenses/by-nc-sa/2.0/
Visit his flickr page for more.

If I had to choose between the mountains and the desert, I would still choose the mountains, for that is where my soul is bonded. Without the mountains, the Anza-Borrego Desert might be very different from the one I’ve learned to love. In this way, they are tied together, an attachment only nature can form.

Below are some photos I took during a couple winter excursions to Anza-Borrego this year. I had hoped to get photos of the wildflowers this spring, but social distancing happened. Hopefully next year.

Bobcat

B is for Bobcat

Today’s blog post is brought to you by the Letter B.

There are tons of things that start with the letter B, so I had a lot to choose from when deciding what I would write about for today’s A to Z Challenge.

I considered sharing that I got a backpacking backpack for my birthday, which was on Saturday. I also thought about writing a post about Boucher Hill Fire Tower—a fire tower located in Palomar Mountain State Park. Not only did I pass the tower on my last hike, it’s also where I spend a lot of my time as a forest fire lookout volunteer.

I could have written about barf, which is what I did on the trail two hikes ago after eight miles with a mostly empty stomach that was literally sloshing water around as I walked. Then there is the topic of backtracking. I had to do that on my barfy hike when I decided I didn’t want to cross a creek for the fifth time that day. That ended up being a mistake, but not worth sharing.

But as you can see from the title of this blog post, I am going to write about a bobcat. I was blessed on my Boucher Trail Palomar Mountain Loop hike (March 24) with the sudden appearance of a bobcat who popped out of the bushes, onto the trail, about thirty feet ahead of me.

I spent most of my hike worrying about the mountain lions that live in the State Park, so I’m surprised I didn’t automatically “see” a lion when the bobcat stepped on the trail. Instead, I “saw” a fox. It took a second to process what I was really seeing. When it turned to rush back into the trees, I was relieved to see its bobbed tail, confirming its non-mountain-lion-ness.

Before dashing off, the bobcat stared at me long enough for me to get a photo. Be warned, the photo is Sasquatch/Big Foot quality, so please excuse the lack of clarity. Also, a lot of people tried to convince me the animal is a mountain lion after sharing the photo on Facebook. I assure you, it was not. The cat’s tail in the photo blends into its leg, making it look longer than it is. I’ve seen a mountain lion in person; there is no mistaking when you see one.

Hi, little bobcat!
Definitely not a mountain lion… whew!

Why Hiking?

About ten years ago, I permanently injured my left foot during a love affair with long-distance running. The day my podiatrist showed me the x-ray of my fallen arch, I knew he would tell me the news I had dreaded hearing for months… that I needed to stop running. In a non-sympathetic manner, he informed me that I had the foot of a seventy-year-old and unless I wanted to be disabled in my fifties, I needed to give it up.

I felt like I lost my best friend that day.

Still grieving the news, I spent the next year trying to prove him wrong. My foot would feel better, and I would hit the road and trails, only to feel that familiar twinge of pain creeping back into my left foot. I repeated this cycle multiple times, but I never pushed it too far—I had no desire to return to living with constant pain.

The need to challenge myself led me to cycling and mountain biking, but I couldn’t fall in love with it. I like to be in control of my movement, and relying on two skinny circles attached to a metallic frame doesn’t appeal to me the way running did. I participated in a couple road cycling events with my husband—one in Palm Springs and one in San Diego—but after too many near misses with cars whose drivers weren’t paying attention, I was done with “sharing the road.”

Recently, I reconnected with my first love, hiking. Like a loyal family member, hiking has been waiting in the wings while I sought new challenges to test me physically. I never forgot hiking; I have always loved being in nature, using my legs to move through the miracle of it. I just never considered it a replacement for the challenge of running a marathon.

Then a day-hike led me to a small section of the Pacific Crest Trail.

I had heard of it and remembered someone saying it stretches from the Mexican border to the border of Canada. A section of the PCT has been in my backyard all my life, and I didn’t realize it. As I studied the iconic blue-and-white trail marker, I remember thinking, “Do people hike the whole thing?”

People do!

The tiny sign that gave me a fresh perspective on hiking.

While the PCT is what planted the seed to embrace hiking as a way to challenge myself, I have no plans to hike to Canada… not yet, anyway. The trail and its amazing travelers are my inspiration to take on hiking as a way to challenge myself with tangible, reachable goals.

Hiking is my new running. It is a return to my childhood. It is where I feel closest to my Creator. Hiking brings back the best memories of my dad—the man who helped me fall in love with the outdoors almost fifties eyes ago.

Hiking is good.