Saddleback Butte
"...[I]t is only by placing ourselves out of our comfort zones that we grow mentally and physically as people." (Scott Kyle, a fellow Californian who is training to swim the English Channel)
State Park. Notice the snow-capped mountains in the distance!)
Over shabbos I was feeling all frustrated with my life and angry at the world. These were clear signs that it was time for me to get away! So I pulled out my California maps and guidebooks and chose a destination: Saddleback Butte State Park, 17 miles east of Lancaster, CA.
The trip turned out to be a 190 mile wild goose chase. But it was not at all for naught. I discovered that driving is almost meditative for me. It quiets my mind. Picture me flying along the California freeways, windows down. It's still early in the day so the wind whooshing around me is still cool. Traveling north through the Sepulveda Pass, the city begins to slip away and the scenery transforms to California brush. And the farther I get from Los Angeles, the expanses on either side of me widen further and the brush intermingles with desert shrubs. As much as I love listening to music while I drive - and usually singing along - today I don't even turn on the tape. The motion of my car and the view outside quiet my mind. I breathe deeply and calmly and all the tensions melt away. I am able to think about things that need thinking about.
The terrain of California always reminds me of Israel. California's climate is similar to Israel's in that it doesn't rain in the summer. The plains of Israel are covered with sand and rock and low bushes, just like California. Both lands rise and fall unevenly, breathtaking in a way. The farms and small towns seem only somewhat more developed than those in Israel too.
So I drive and drive, up State Route 14 and through Palmdale and Lancaster. Both are as small and unmemorable as I expected. The only thing I didn't expect was quite how far my trip was taking me. Finally I arrive, and a sign points me to the Saddleback Butte State Park picnic area. But other than a single white car, the place is deserted. I'm both panicking and feeling more than a little stupid: These 3000 acres are more of a nature preserve than a park meant to be visited by humans.
I decide to turn right back around and head for home. Looking out towards the nature trail, I see an older couple on their way back. The car must belong to them. I figure I'll wait for them and talk to them for a minute before leaving. One of my purposes in this adventure was to see people - after all, my loneliness over shabbos was a big reason I went on this trip.
The couple turned out to be lovely foreign visitors who invited me to
join them as they ate their well-prepared continental picnic lunch (rustic
bread, salami, hard cheese, grape tomatoes, a long hot-house cucumber, and
farm-fresh cherries). Unfortunately I can't remember their names as they
were Dutch and quie unpronounceable. The husband is a professor of
Microbiology at a university in the Netherlands; he and his wife just
arrived in southern California last week for a 5-month sabbatical during
which he's working at USC. Apparently they were in L.A. a full year on a
similar exchange - in 1973! (I didn't bother to mention that that was before
I was born... 
)
So we chatted and they ate lunch. I had brought my own lunch but was
still too nervous to eat anything. We looked at maps - they still had
their rental car for five more hours and were anxious to see more sights.
They love the California desert scenery, and told me that of course Holland
is a small country and there aren't such open spaces there. I wished them
luck and got into my car and speedily was on my way back to civilization.
Instead of heading straight home, though, I went to Griffith Park. After the emptiness of the Saddleback Butte, I welcomed the Griffith Park Sunday crowds. Just a little patch of grass is enough for me, thank you. I found a shady spot to park my car and had myself a nice picnic lunch. Then I did an intense 35-minute bike ride past the Zoo and Travel Town, and back again.
I arrived home in mid-afternoon, tired, a bit sunburned, and in great spirits. I didn't find quite what I was expecting on my journey to the state park - and that is a lesson in itself - but all the tension and nerves and unhappiness were gone. I was my upbeat, cheerful self again. Maybe it wasn't such a wild goose chase after all.
Trivia: How did Joshua Trees get their unusual name?
The naming of Joshua as a "tree" is credited to early Mormon settlers who saw the tree with its upraised arms as Joshua leading the Israelites into the Promised Land. Its actual classification, however, is as a member of the lily family. In early spring months, creamy white blossoms begin to grow on the ends of the branches of the Joshua. The blooms last for several months, growing larger and larger as the weeks go by.
(Source: California Department of Parks and Recreation)
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