There isn't much by way of trees or green vegetation to make it appealing to most folks, and it's also pretty dry and dusty.
Not to mention windy.
Most people, upon nearing a desert, fill up the tanks of their cars before heading into one and just do whatever they can to get through it as fast as possible.
However, beneath it's rough exterior, there is something about it that begins to grow on you after you've begun to vacation regularly in them.
There is a wild, alluring quality that stirs the desire to, "Go west, young man." (Or, in this case, Southwest).
To truly enjoy these wide open spaces and experience that wind-in-your-face, sun-shining-down-upon-you tranquility, one could start by packing the mini-van with camping gear, food and plenty of water.
However, it's much more fun to hook up a trailer full of 'toys' to an RV, pile everyone in and head out for the backside of nowhere.
And, if you're really using the old noggin, you'll send the guys on ahead to 'set up camp', while you stay behind to
Because when they arrive at their destination, it will be dusk.
They will scout out their own site, across the way from the larger parties in the area, which are circled up like modern day wagon trains.
And just as soon as they've set up camp, they will quickly mount up and head off for a long ride through the desert.
Sounds like the perfect recipe for fun, does it not?
It is. In a very "Wild West" kind of way.
However, there is one slight problem with this plan.
Upon getting back to camp well after dark, they'll find that desert winds can make things a bit chilly after dark, and they will set about lighting a fire for warmth.
And there is just something about lighting fires that brings out the primeval, grunting instincts in the male species.
It starts out innocently enough, fires providing the warmth they need.
Except that instead of chopping up the old Christmas tree to use as kindling on their campfire, someone will undoubtedly come up with the bright idea of just torching the whole thing.
It will burn like a raging inferno.
You will later learn that the height of said Christmas tree flames leapt high above the top of the RV.
Oh, and you know those warnings you see on labels and cans?
Things like:
and
Hmmm?
Well, they'll go unheeded, too.
Why?
Because after sitting around the fire for long enough to take the chill off, the young males of the species begin to get in touch with repressed instincts not often drawn upon in their regular more civilized habitat.
Indeed, they will look into those hypnotizing flames and begin to see all kinds of prospects for fun.
Things like making flame throwers out of cans of hairspray.
The adult males of the species appear to turn a blind eye to such behaviors, no doubt recalling fondly their own exuberance around the fires of their youth.
Which would be fine, except that hairspray will not achieve the results the young males were after.
In fact, they will go so far as to raid the RV for whatever flammable liquids are available.
Things like Axe deodorant spray and yes, sadly even Tinactin.
And when that runs out, the youths will plead with the adults to try whatever else is available. Things like aerosol chain lube.
They will discover the mystifying and wondrous truth that different flammable fluids achieve varying colors of flames.
And with much grunting and running about the perimeter of the fire, the young males will achieve even larger flames with their flamethrowers.
It appears they would do just about anything for their 15 seconds of 'flame'.
Giving themselves fully to the pyromaniacal tendencies instincts within, they will begin adding fuel to the fire.
Literally.
And do not worry, though it appears the adult males are nowhere in sight, they were, in fact, keeping close tabs on the youngsters while the adults
And contrary to what it looks like, the two young males on the left did not set the one on the right on fire. Purely trick photography.
Then, mercifully, almost as quickly as it had begun, the fluids were gone, and their fun came to an end.
One of the youths forgot about the verbal warnings from the adult males and tossed the empty can of Axe onto the fire.
It was the stuff of legends.
Something which the youths will speak of fondly for years to come, and share with their own offspring around those long distant campfires of the future.
Thankfully the can was plastic and not metal, or the evening might have entailed a trip to the E.R. to remove the shrapnel. Which might have entailed being airlifted out of that remote corner of the desert. It was nothing short of a direct answer to prayer that we did not have to learn this lesson the hard way.
I believe there is a perfectly legitimate reason for this behavior among males. Yea, even a Biblical one.
"...Man is born to trouble as the sparks fly upward." ~Job 5:7
"...Man is born to trouble as the sparks fly upward." ~Job 5:7
I jest.
It's probably more a case of "While the cats are away, the mice will play."
Because had the womenfolk been there, such things would likely never have occurred, and there would have been much making of s'mores and hot chocolate instead. And maybe some sparklers and party poppers if we could find them. You know, good safe fun.
:: :: :: ::
Early the next morning, the men rose with the sun.
Cousin S made a trail riders breakfast.
My own offspring would later tell me those were the BEST pancakes he'd ever eaten.
Hmmph!
He obviously doesn't understand yet the concept that everything tastes better in the great outdoors. (Because nothing, and I mean NOTHING beats mama's buckwheat pancakes!) Ahem.
After breakfast, cousin S works tending the herd, making sure everything is ready for the drive.
I was trying to figure out what looked so different about cousin S as I was looking through these pictures (taken by Jeff, of course), and realized it was that he'd recently shaved off his goatee.
Which makes him look a little like a celebrity...though I just can't seem to put my finger on which one exactly.
Oh, wait! I remember!
Yes, I think it's a younger version of this one, except without the hoop in his ear.
When all was in readiness, they mounted up and rode a quarter day's journey East.
They got to a place that looked like this.
See that fuzzy gray horizontal line near the white speck that appears to be a mirage?
Well it wasn't one.
It's still a bit too cold for the heat waves to play tricks on your eyes.
Nope, that was a little oasis in the middle of the desert, the recent rains having left some standing water.
Which invariably meant lots and lots of mud.
Opening up the possibility for a really fun and messy activity known as 'mudding'.
Which is best done in a dune buggy.
The low center of gravity makes it perfect for doing doughnuts and figure eights in the mud, and gives a lot of sideways slippage without fear of flipping over.
Even if you do, there's always the rollbar and cage to protect you. That's something I pray I never have to witness firsthand.
When the womenfolk arrived later that day, not even grandma was immune to the lure of mudding.
Grandson K took her out.
And slung up a lot of mud as you can see here.
She loved it, of course.
Even if she did end up with some mud on her Dolce & Gabbanas.
A small price to pay, considering all she'd have to brag about later with her homies.
Ahh, and the fun had barely even begun!
Because being out in the middle of nowhere was also the perfect place to bring along those BB guns the boys got for Christmas.
String up a bunch of balloons, make a row of empty water bottles and soda cans, and you've got yourself a mighty fine shootin' gallery.
And don't worry. Though it appears that they were warring with a neighboring camp, they were not.
That camp was due north, and they were shooting west. Or, for you directionally challenged folks, 12 o'clock to 9 o'clock.
Because when the womenfolk are around, every safety precaution is taken.
Wouldn't want any kids to shoot their eyes out.
Adults were always nearby to supervise things very carefully.
Which was why we made sure the boys wore seatbelts while tooling around in the family mini-van.
Once they got past the nervousness of "idle" speed, they really opened it up...took it all the way to 10 m.p.h.!
"Oh what fun it is to ride in the family mini-van, HEY!"
Of course, helmet laws, too, were strictly adhered to as well.
Even for Judah who spent a lot of time pretending.
Here, he pretends that he and daddy are on a ride.
Here they actually are.
See? Safety was our number one concern.
In the background, Miss A does her trademark "thumbs up" pose from her ATC.
Once again, Judah is pretending.
Because no way, no how would mama let him ride that ginormous motorized tricycle without a helmet, let alone all by himself!
Which, thankfully, due to the beginning stages of an oncoming illness, was fine by him.
For Judah, it was really all about looking the part.
For Judah, it was really all about looking the part.
There's Miss A again with her "thumbs up", tooling by with her five year old self.
Don't worry, she's a little pro! Plus, see? She's wearing her helmet.
And thus ends a fantastic weekend spent in the desert.
Oh, and on a side note, please don't ask where this place is.
Because if we told you, we'd have to shoot you. (Well, not really, but doesn't that just add such a dramatic flair to my story?)
However, we still can't tell you.
Sorry, it's the code of the desert. Take only pictures, leave only tire tracks, and keep mum about the best off-roading spots.
Because 10 years ago, when we first found out about this place, nobody else would be out there when we were.
Now, there are many. Far. too. many.
Oh,and because this post wasn't already long enough for your patience in reading all the way to the end, I've got a quick bonus question for you:
Oh,
What does that rock formation at the center of this photo look like?
Take a good long gander at it.
Okay, think you know?
Wait for it....
keep on waiting...
If you answered The Sphinx, you're wrong.
But...if you answered Jabba the Hutt, you're absolutely right!
See if you don't agree.
