La Jolla Seals

Coastline of La Jolla

The last big thing we did while we were in San Diego was to drive up the coast to the little town of La Jolla.  It's right at the ocean and there's a spot where hang-gliders will literally jump off the cliff above the Pacific Ocean and sail around for awhile before coming in for a landing back in their original spot in the cliff.  It's right next to part of the UC San Diego campus so I expect there are times in good weather where the place is packed with people.  The weather the day we went was nice, but apparently not for hang-gliding. We didn't see anyone flying around, which was probably just as well.  Looking at the huge drop to the water, you couldn't pay me enough money to try that trick myself!  My dad thought it would be cool and I"m sure if my brother had been there he'd have been first in line, but there's no way I'd do that.  My definition of "can't" might be changing, but there are still things that cross the line into "won't". Hang-gliding above shark infested waters is one of those.

Protected cove with cool rock formations and beach

A little further down the coast we stopped at an area where there is beach access.  It's amazing the difference a few hours drive makes.  Two hours from Ocotillo and you're traveling through mountains with amazing boulders everywhere, then you find yourself at the coast of the Pacific Ocean.  My idea of beach coasts and oceans is mainly based on my experience with beaches leading to the Gulf of Mexico and the Atlantic Ocean.  Gentle slopes, lots of sand, etc.  The Pacific, on the other hand, is mountains, cliffs of rocks cutting off sharply to hit the water, and coves of sand and protected shores. At least, the area I saw was like that. Up the cliff you're in a town with upscale shops and a retirement community, cross a road and go down a flight of stairs and you're at rocky cliffs and little beaches with seals.

Seal, sunning himself

There are signs all over the place telling you not to bother the marine life because it's only your common sense (and the lifeguards protecting the animals) that keeps you from walking right up to a seal.  They sun themselves on the rocks in low tide and there were a few swimming in the protected cove who would even come up to the beach.  This particular beach is closed during calving season to guarantee the seals and their pups a little peace, but the rest of the time it's open.  We didn't go down onto the beach but walked along the walkway that let's you get a slightly elevated view of the water and the rocks with the seals.  I have to tell you, seals aren't that graceful out of the water. What makes them so perfect in the water makes them a lot like giant slugs when they try to move on shore.  And it reminds all SharkWeek devotees that seals aren't the only thing swimming around out there.  Even if I could swim, you wouldn't get me in that water! The seals can have it!

Seal swimming in protected cove

                                 

                                  Seal, risking his life swimming in the shark infested Pacific Ocean

San Diego Zoo fun

My parents came out to see the museum and the town before we all headed back to Long Island.  We had a great time out in Ocotillo, but Monday we did a little exploring in San Diego.  We checked out the San Diego Zoo and then drove up the coast to La Jolla where I got to see the Pacific Ocean.  It's amazing how, within a few hours drive, you can get such different scenery.

Meerkat!

The zoo was much bigger than I expected it to be, and has a really amazing variety of animals.  We saw meerkats, grizzly bears, polar bears, all the big cats, and some of my personal favorites: Striped Hyenas, New Guinea Singing Dogs, African Wild Dogs, and Maned Wolves.  Part of the zoo is right up against a middle school- it was a little weird to be looking at camels while listening to kids playing basketball on the other side of a giant fence!

Polar bears enjoying a mild December

We went early so we managed to avoid school groups and small children for the most part.  The polar bears were amazing. They're huge! There is an underwater viewing area for them so we got to watch one of the bears in the water up against the glass playing with a ball and really entertaining himself with it.  The New Guinea Singing Dogs were beautiful, with great brown eyes, and you could get up pretty close to their enclosure. They are pretty shy and sensitive to noise apparently, but one of them came up to the fence to check us out.  I'd never heard of them before, but they are now on my favorite animals list!

New Guinea Singing Dog, posing for the camera

Their two nearest neighbors were already on my favorites list: the African Wild Dogs and the Striped Hyenas.  Few people I've met agree with me on how amazing and cute hyenas are, but these guys were great.  It's too bad the zoo didn't also have spotted hyenas, which I sort of think are even cuter than their striped cousins. It's probably the only time I'll see a hyena in person, so that was one of the highlights of the trip for me.

African Wild Dogs, one of my favorites

As impressive as the variety of animals is at this zoo, I have to admit there were times when it couldn't compare with our zoo in New Orleans.  The maps weren't good and you never could tell what exactly the zoo had until you walked up to it, so you couldn't know if you were missing somebody completely awesome or if the map was just stupid.  They didn't even have a good overview of the animals you could see on their website, which you'd think would be a big deal.  The enclosures weren't great, many were much smaller than you'd think the animals would need, and many didn't really seem to be what the animals would be living in if they were in the wild.  Lots of mesh fences instead of the kind of pit and overhanging fence arrangements Audubon has.  And few educational plaques telling you about the animals you were looking at, beyond their species and where in the wild they can be found.  Maybe I'm just spoiled from how great Audubon is?  Although not even Audubon can be counted on for having members of the weasel family, beyond otters.  What kind of zoo doesn't have a whole section dedicated to mustelidae and how awesome they are?  At least this zoo had hyenas.

My personal favorite and the highlight of the zoo: the Striped Hyena. Isn't she cute?

Fossil Canyon Hike

Entering Fossil Canyon, in the Coyote Mountains

My last hike of 2012 was the first group hike to use the museum as their start point, and the hike itself was right in our front yard: Fossil Canyon, in the Coyote Mountains.  Any of you paying attention to my pictures will have guessed that the Coyote Mountains are my favorite view and I was excited to do some hiking there.  It was also exciting that among our intrepid group of hikers were my parents.  They came out to see what the museum and the area was like, and were interested to go on the hike with us.

Fossil Canyon, as you might guess, is known for fossils.  I expect most of the major ones have been taken out by geologists, archaeologists, tourists, and rock hounds, but you can still see some of the fossilized shells in the rock that remind you the area used to look quite different. That's one of the fascinating things about the area: as static as it looks you can also see the movement of the rock in the strata and fossilized clues that the area used to be under water.  We did see some shell fossils but the coolest stuff was the formation of the canyon itself.  I am always fascinated by the patterns of rock carved out by wind and rain, maybe because it's not even close to anything I experienced growing up.  When I try to explain to someone that there are no rocks in New Orleans I tend to get a lot of blank looks. When you're in an area like Imperial Valley it is hard to believe that there can be a place where there are no rocks.

Rock formation carved out of wind, water, and probably earthquakes

The hike was lots of fun, an easy walk for beginners and those of us who aren't in great shape. The weather was beautiful and so was the scenery.  One of the most exciting moments came when one of our hikers spotted a big horned sheep up on the ridge.  Apparently people can live in the area and never see them, but this one was hanging out watching us.  My little camera couldn't do it justice because of the distance, but if you zoom in on the picture you can actually tell you're looking at a big horned sheep. That was pretty cool.  Another animal checked off my desert bucket list. Now I just need to see (and get a picture of) a roadrunner and get a picture of our local coyote.  I've seen him around, but documentation of the sighting hasn't happened yet. And tracks aren't quite the same as an actual roadrunner.  But I'm going back out in January, so there's still hope!

You have to zoom in to see well, but that's a big horned sheep up there!

"Can't" is an ever-changing mark

Let me not to the marriage of true minds

Admit impediments. Love is not love

Which alters when it alteration finds,

Or bends with the remover to remove:

O, no! it is an ever-fixed mark,

That looks on tempests and is never shaken

-Shakespeare, Sonnet 116

Apologies to Shakespeare for altering his words, but as I look back on three months here in the desert, I have discovered that the word "can't" is an ever-changing mark.  What I would have said I couldn't do three months ago, and what I would say I can't do today, is very different.

Slot Canyon, Calcite Mine hike

Four months ago I would have said I couldn't move to the middle of nowhere CA's desert to build an archive.  I didn't have the experience, the knowledge, the abilities.  So I moved to Ocotillo to work at the Imperial Valley Desert Museum establishing their archive from the ground up.  Three months ago I would have said I couldn't climb a mountain.  I couldn't rock climb up a little slot in a canyon. Between not being in great physical shape, lousy balance (especially compared to my mountain goat roommates) and my own delightful TBI challenges, I couldn't have imagined climbing mountains, even small ones, to see the view from the top.  Now I'm posting pictures from the tops of (granted, small) mountains.

View from top of Coyote or Laguna Mountains. 12/4/12

I am by no means an extreme hiker at this stage. But yesterday we went on a "staff meeting" to hike Canyon Sin Nombre in Anza Borrego State Park. Last month we hiked the Calcite Mine hike. Both times we came to rocky slots of canyons that I would have looked at and assumed that was the end of the trail.  I watched others climb through and said "I can't do that." And then I did it.

I guess the point of this is that I am learning what most people already know.  Challenges, both physical and mental, are good for you.  There will always be things that you can't do. But just because you can't do them one day doesn't mean you shouldn't try it again in a month. Because then, maybe you can do it.

And since I'll be coming back here in January, who knows what "can't" will mean for me then?

My definition of "can't" is always changing.

Calcite Mine Hike

One of the things we're starting to do as a museum is have hikes on Mondays. Anyone who wants to come is welcome. I can't go on all of them because I am not an 'extreme' hiker and Neal, Jessica and a few of the others here really enjoy extreme Death-by-hiking type of hikes. They also tend to enjoy hiking to higher altitudes than I can manage.  But Sunday Jessica, Jacob and I joined the Natural History Museum Hike, from San Diego, which met in Borrego Springs and drove out to the Calcite Mine in Anzo Borrego Desert State Park. It was advertised as an 'intermediate' hike and good for kids and the elderly so I figured I had a shot at being able to do it.

Stratified rock formations at top of Calcite Mine

The Calcite Mine was used during World War II to quarry calcite and calcium sulfite for the war effort (i.e. making bombs). Today it's an amazing hike if you want to see rock formations and canyons formed over millions of years by wind erosion and the Colorado River, which occasionally would overflow its banks and flood the area, shaping canyons in the same way it shaped the Grand Canyon.

It was a 4 mile roundtrip hike, and we're not sure the altitude past 1,000 feet, but there were places where it was much higher. I only had trouble with the altitude when we got to the Calcite Mine itself, which I'm guessing was over 1,500 and maybe closer to 2,000 feet above sea level.  There were some really amazing formations, like Slot Canyon, which is a small canyon of smooth rocks barely big enough in some places for a person to fit through, and smooth enough in places that it is almost impossible to climb up.  I was proud of myself for only needing help climbing up in one spot.

Slot Canyon

There were some great places where you could see the stratification of the rocks, and you could see veins of quartz and calcite. None photographed well, so you'll have to take my word on that.  We stopped for lunch at the highest part of the Calcite Mine, which is the only spot I had real trouble.  Very little wildlife showed itself, although I have no doubt coyotes, bobcats, ring-tailed cats, jackrabbits, and others are around when people are gone. We saw evidence of rabbits and deer hoof prints.  Which was exciting because that morning Jessica and I were up at the museum looking at where our cacti were being eaten and found prints that were bigger than deer. So we maintain we have big horned sheep eating the cacti.  Which would be cool if we could ever see them in person.  On the hike up we saw a baby horned lizard, which is apparently becoming a rare siting.

Baby horned lizard, trying to blend in, with a comparison penny

 And I figured out how to use my camera for movie images.  Which could be cool in the future as I figure our what I'm doing.

Two Months and Still Going Strong

At this point I’ve been working in CA for two months.  Things are going pretty well and I’m glad I took the position.  I’ve adapted decently to living in the desert in the middle of nowhere, my two roommates and I get along and haven’t yet tried to kill each other in our sleep, and I think I’m progressing decently with the work.  I’ve started the survey of the off site storage facility and brought up about 20 boxes of materials that have been frozen and thawed a few times and am now starting to sort through them in greater detail to actually find out if what I thought before would be important still is.  So far most still seems important.   There are site survey reports of archaeological digs, maps, some analyses, and I’ve found about 40 pictures from a collection Jessica was afraid was completely missing (we’re supposed to have about 5,000).  Pretty soon I’ll be entering the sorted work into our software program, PastPerfect, which will not only be good for me as a new system to learn and put on my resume but will mean that I can (theoretically) connect artifacts and their paperwork.  This is exciting because it’s what I came out here to do.  Most of the artifacts we have now are separated from their paperwork so we don’t know any of their stories. Where were they found, when were they found, what else was there, what could it mean?  So getting things tied together again will be the highlight of my work here.  It’s different from what I’ve learned in school and other internships, but I’m enjoying looking at archives in a slightly different way.  My other fun project is working with our lantern slide collection.  Every Saturday I take a break from paper records and work on cleaning our collection of nearly 800 lantern slides, re-housing them into archival envelopes, and cataloging them to be found easily.  At some point we will start getting them digitized and put into Pastperfect as well.  Lots of possibilities once that happens!  I’ll probably do a blog just on the lantern slides later on.

Prickly pear cactus

On my personal list, I’ve done a few hikes and learned that while I enjoy hiking, I’m still very much a beginner and need to stick to the bunny slopes (so to speak).  We discovered the hard way that I get altitude sickness so it looks like I’ll be left out of some of the more interesting hikes because they will be at high elevations and I apparently can’t handle that.  I’ve seen a red tailed hawk, jackrabbits, and (the highest on my bucket list) a coyote.  The coyote reminded me quite forcefully to always bring my camera when I go outside.  I went out of the museum one morning to walk down to the road and open the gate and there he was, standing in the parking lot.  We looked at each other and then he trotted off.  I stayed put, watched him go out of site and knew that was going to be a good day.  And kicking myself for not having my camera to take a picture of a coyote maybe 20 feet away from me.  What are the chances of my getting close enough for another shot like that? Or even seeing one again?

Well the answer to that is: better than before.  I’m going home for a month in December but then get to come back out and keep working here for awhile.  We haven’t set an end date for my project, but I’ll get farther into it at least.  And I’ll work on finding a job that will pay more than room and board.  Sadly, some things in life are still all about money, no matter how much we wish it was otherwise.  Because really, it can’t get much better than this.  Building an archive from the ground up, helping get a museum going from the ground up.  Living in a place with so little light pollution that at night you can sit in the hot tub and see the Milky Way and all kinds of stars.  Hikes and coyotes.  How can my next job possibly top this?  

Coiled Clay with Kids

One of the major programs the Museum does is the Ceramic Arts Youth Program, known to all as the Coiled Clay class.  Each class gets two sessions, in order to build their own pots.  Neil and Jessica (usually) take one of our ollas (pots) to classrooms and talk to the kids about archaeology, the desert, making pots and why it was important to the people who lived here.  Wednesday a group of 16 kids and parents from home schooling groups in the area came out for Class 1.  Jessica and Jacob were out so it was up to me to help Neil. Having never done the program before, I don't think I was much help, but I tried.

Making a coiled clay pot- not as easy as it sounds!

Neil gave his talk about the museum and why it was important, then showed the kids (5-8 graders) some of our collection of arrowheads and points and explained why it was important that they not pick up anything they find in the desert.  There used to be arrowheads, ollas, and all kinds of artifacts just lying around on the ground and as late as the 1980s people talked about how many they would see on hikes. Enough people picked things up as souvenirs or used the ollas as target practice that you don't see that anymore. Which is sad, since it takes away so much of the culture we're trying to preserve. When you just pick something up you've completely erased it's archaeological value, and most of the story of that object is lost since it wasn't properly documented. The kids enjoyed looking at the different kinds of points, although some of our dating got thrown off when one of the moms told Neil that many of the kids were being taught Creationism and so believed the world was only 6,000 years old. Fortunately Neil had read an article about the 'New Earth' theory that talked about how volcanic eruptions like Mount Saint Helens could mimic what 'Old Earth' proponents claimed took millions of years to compress earth, and therefore turn an artifact dated 10,000 years old into a 3,000 year old artifact.  There was science involved in the article that I certainly didn't get, and I don't think any non-science person would try to (which is a whole different debate),  but it did require a little change on what Neil was saying.  He was more than up to the task. I learn a lot watching him!  Then the real fun began.  The kids got chunks of clay and got to try their hand at making the base of their own pots.  Next week they get to add on to the bases they made this week.

One of the few original ollas paddles left, from our collection

The basic idea we use is: take a foam ball for a base, cover it in a damp cloth. Flatten out some clay to act as your base on the bottom of the pot and then you make coils of clay and add them to the base. Rolling snakes out of clay vied with smashing the clay onto the table as the favorite part for these kids. Once you have a few 'snakes' on the ball you take a wooden paddle and smash the clay flat (another favorite and enthusiastically tried part for kids), so the coils disappear.  The real problem we have right now is that we don't have a kiln to fire the pots.  We keep trying for it in grants, but so far no luck.  We use a bar-b-q pit instead. The old clay we used worked fine. The new kind tends to explode in the fire. So we experiment and keep hoping to get a kiln eventually!

 The general rule of thumb is that it takes about 4 tries before you have a base worth keeping and using for your pot. One of our kids made a really good one his first try, which I think discouraged some of the others. But they got into it. What kid doesn't like playing with clay as a school project?

Jacob swears he meant for his pot to come out in this shape

Group Fun

Dr. Neil Hitch talking about the Ceramic Art Youth Program

This week the Museum has several groups coming for tours and programs. Today a group from El Centro's United Methodists Ladies Club came out.  30 people listened to Dr. Neil Hitch give a talk on the history of the Museum, where it is today, and where it plans to go in the future.  Jessica Brody, our Head Curator, gave a brief talk explaining the curation process of the museum, what our volunteers do when they come out, and a behind the scenes look at artifacts before and after they have been curated.  She encouraged anyone who was interested to come out to the museum and volunteer to get their own, hands on experience with artifacts.

Dr. Hitch also described several of the youth oriented programs the Museum is doing. One in its' third year is the Ceramic Art Youth Program  where Museum staff go into classrooms and talk with kids about clay pots as art and let them try their hand at making their own coiled clay pots. The ladies were kind enough to help try out a new project and got to play with Play-Do, turning coils of clay into the petroglyph designs painted on our Museum walls.  Much fun was had by all!  

Petroglyphs painted on Museum wall

Coiled clay petroglyph

Ocotillo Testicle Festival

Yesterday was a busy day at the museum.  Our newest intern, Jacob, arrived on Friday so Saturday was his first day at work. Two volunteers from Imperial Valley College, Phil and Ivan, came over and helped us with curating artifacts. Saturdays are my day for curating instead of archiving.  I'm working on the Percy Palmer lantern slide collection- cleaning them, re-housing them, cataloging them, and eventually they will be digitized.

Lazy Lizard Saloon, one of Ocotillo's  main tourist attractions

Right at 3pm we closed up and headed into town to the Lazy Lizard Saloon to attend the last part of the Ocotillo Testicle Festival. It's held by the Ocotillo Optimist Society and all the proceeds go to supporting local children's education- backpacks of school supplies, scholarships, playground equipment, haircuts, etc. I was a little skeptical of the Festival at first. The flyer described a BBQ with "Lizard Testicles, Lizard Tails, Lizard Parts and much more. The real thing (testicles) this year compliments of the Lazy Lizard." The festival was from 1pm "until the lizards come home" (which meant about 4 when the raffle prizes ran out.

Jessica tells the story of last year's BBQ when the locals convinced her the RoadKill BBQ really was roadkill (turned out to be chicken) so you can see the kind of humor we're dealing with in Ocotillo. This time there was potato salad, hot dogs, and other normal BBQ fare (including some awesome homemade chocolate chip cookies). There were also testicles. Not lizard, but bull. Jessica, Ivan and I manned up and tried them but Phil and Jacob declined. I don't know if that says anything to the psychologists out there or not.

Lazy Lizard Saloon

Let me just say up front: if anyone ever tries to tell you that bull testicles taste like chicken- they lie. It was actually pretty disgusting. I don't know how much of that was a mental thing, but frying them did not help. But I can now say I've done it, and that's pretty much the point right? It's always an adventure.

The Great California Shake Out

Yesterday was the museum's first time participating in the Great California Shake Out.  It's an annual chance for people and organizations to practice what to do if an earthquake were to hit the area.  It's a great time for going over emergency preparedness plans, kits, and drills, to make sure everyone in your family knows what to do in an emergency, and to make sure your home/car/business is stocked with up-to-date emergency supplies. The ShakeOut had over 9 million participants this year from all over California, and many other states participated in their own ShakeOuts.

For a person born and raised in New Orleans this seemed like a great idea to me. I know what to do in case of hurricanes, but with hurricanes you have some advance warning.  What do you do for earthquakes, which can strike at any time?  I got to spend a few weeks doing research on the ShakeOut for drills and procedures, and also for what the museum should have on hand for emergencies.  I talked with people from FEMA, NEDCC, various California agencies, and local museums to create a list of all the supplies the museum should keep at the ready.  Of course, many items (stocked food and water, crowbars, etc.) are really for worst case scenarios.  But as we learned from Katrina, it's better to be prepared for the absolute worst case scenario than be taken by surprise.

The day of the ShakeOut, at exactly 10:18am we had our earthquake drill. We practiced Drop, Cover and Hold On, getting under the tables and listening to the ShakeOut's recorded earthquake sounds (which were for a much more urban area than we are in, but we got the idea) and imagining what would be in the most danger of falling.  Afterwards we did a building inspection, making sure we knew the most likely problem areas and where to turn off the water and electricity if we needed to.  The big part for me was when I tested our Emergency Preparedness Plan.  We have a binder with a list of phone numbers of who to call in case of emergency- both museum board members and other museums who participate in maintaining a container of emergency supplies.  Happily the plan worked, and I was able to update several phone numbers and contact names during the process.  What amazed me was how few other organizations in our area were participating in the ShakeOut.  Several people I talked to had no idea what to do in the event of an emergency of any kind. Maybe because there's no official 'earthquake season' the way there is a hurricane season there isn't a concentrated push at certain times of the year to prepare people the way we do in New Orleans.  Maybe many people are just waiting for the problem to hit and then they'll figure out what to do.  Or maybe I was just talking to a minority and most people are prepared.  I certainly hope that is the case.  But the Imperial Valley Desert Museum is as ready as possible for the next earthquake to hit Imperial Valley. Now we just have to finish preparing for the apocalypse.

Photography 101

Sunset behind the Coyote Mountains, 10/13

One of our mottos at the Imperial Valley Desert Museum is that if you have to go to work- you should enjoy yourself. If you are going to have an event at work, you should really enjoy yourself. So this Saturday we enjoyed ourself at work by holding a Photography 101 class. A photographer from El Centro came out and talked to seven eager students about photographic tricks that can help out even amateurs like me. Most of us had the little "point and click" type of digital cameras that we thought meant we couldn't do more than point and shoot. Well, instead we started experimenting with all the buttons and options on our cameras that none of us had ever played with.

Sunset with the 'night' setting

Coyote Mountains with some gold, even though the purple didn't go through

                                                                          One of my regrets is that I can never get my pictures to show people what I'm seeing here. Especially when it comes to sunsets. I can't get the colors to mimic what I see when I watch the sun set. The purples and golds just don't come out. And I'm not a visually artistic person so it never really occurred to me to try for the more artsy, close up type of shots you see some people do. So I experimented with some of the different settings: landscape, dusk/dawn, sunset, close-up. My little Nikon doesn't seem to have setting controls for speed, just light, and I decided that while I can use practice (because let's face it, my pictures aren't that good)- the different settings don't always make much difference to the picture quality. But the class got me thinking and interested in experimenting with my shots.

Our geoglyph sculpture at sunset

Check out our museum's Facebook page and blog to see some of the cool shots other students took:
http://ivdesertmuseum.blogspot.com/2012/10/sunset-photography-event.html

 Today Jessica and I decided to take our new found willingness to mess around with our camera settings and headed out into the desert for a hike. There are some things that can still never be replicated. The panorama of desert and mountains. The jackrabbits that went running off when we came through and went way too fast for us to catch any pictures of them. But other things worked out. The sky came out amazingly blue. We played around with angles and close-ups to get different and cool views of cactus. I experimented with framing windmills with cacti in shots the way I did with the full moon a few weeks ago. Plenty of the shots came out badly but that's the great thing about digital photography isn't it? You hook the camera up to the computer, look at your shots and delete what you don't like. No waiting, no wasted film. And the only ones who suffer are you guys, because I post way more pictures than before and you have to look at them and pretend they are cool.

Barrel cactus and ocotillo on a ridge

Artsy cactus angle

Windmills and cacti

Cholla flowers

Windy Season

Windmills along the highway.

We have officially entered the "Windy Season" in Imperial Valley. When I first got here and looked at the windmills that were being built, I couldn't imagine they would actually collect much energy because there was never any wind. Then this last week something magical happened in the atmosphere and the winds have come to the valley.  They tend to range from 7-20 miles per hour all day and you can hear them whipping around the trailer all night long. Now I understand why people think windmills were a good idea here!

 The Ocotillo Wind project has been putting up windmills since before I got here and it is amazing to see how fast they go.  Three or four can go up in a day. I imagined they were big, complex things that took days to put up just one. But the main parts are built elsewhere and trucked in, then put up in a few easy steps. Base, pole, turbines. On to the next one.

Ocotillo Wind Project, in front of the Coyote Mountains

The wind project here is hugely controversial. I have yet to take pictures of my two favorite examples so you'll have to check back here later and I'll add them in.  One is a painted sign on a fence with the Grim Reaper and the message is along the lines of "Death to Windmills". Right across the street is a small market that put up a very large sign: "Wind Project Workers Welcome Here". That pretty much sums up the way the town is divided. Some are in favor of wind energy and argue that the project creates jobs. They point out that the area has been an energy corridor for over thirty years and nothing has been done until now, and say the people who are against the project should have spoken up sooner because it's a done deal now. Those who are against the project range from environmentalists (tearing up the desert and disturbing animals as well as digging up the Ocotillo cactus) to Native Americans (the land being built on is really close to sacred grounds, and may actually be on some of them) to townspeople who don't like the change in the view. They argue that no one hires local people to work on the project and while local resources go to supporting it, the energy actually goes to San Diego. Ocotillo won't see any benefits and gets all the problems.

Windmill, in the process of going up. 

In general I am in favor of green energy. Getting away from oil, fossil fuels, coal, etc. and moving towards clean, renewable, earth-friendly energy will always get my vote.  But last week Jessica and I went on a hike in a wash across the road from the windmills. There were cactus all over the place, river rocks and fossilized algae from when the area used to be a lake, and it was much more green and alive than you usually imagine a desert being.

 But as we were walking back we came across some huge, heavy machinery tire treads that had torn up the ground.  And just beyond that was the base of a new windmill.  We were really surprised to just stumble across one like that- we hadn't known they were coming onto the other side of the highway.  And it was a really great example of one of the reasons people don't want the windmills to be put up. The area was so different it was sad.  Lawsuits have prevented the company from starting up the standing windmills, but apparently don't prevent new windmills from being built, and in the end they will have only slowed down the inevitable.

UFO? No, just the base of a new windmill.

I'm not necessarily going anywhere profound with this post, just thinking about the changes in the desert and how even something I support, like green energy, is not always a completely good thing.

10/14 Update: Finally got the photos of the signs I was describing:

The downside of adventuring

Whenever we decide to do something, if we're smart, or overly cautious, we weigh the pros and cons. The ups and downs. The risks and rewards. Then we make the best decision we can make for ourselves with the information we have at that time.  There were not that many things in my "Con" list when I was debating coming out to CA, but leaving my family behind topped the list. As most people know, I'm lucky enough to be very close to my family- especially my parents.  One of the (only) pluses of not having a job was that I was living at home with my parents and could try to make their lives easier. Although not being able to drive, I'm not sure how much help I every actually was to them. I think emotional support was probably the only thing I was any good at, and until recently they didn't seem to need that much support from me.

When my grandmother got sick with cancer, everyone chipped in to help everyone else as best they could.  When I was offered the chance to come out to Ocotillo, the idea of leaving my parents to handle things without me and leaving my grandparents without knowing exactly how things would go for the next three months, was one of the biggest things to slow down my saying yes. But the doctors were so sure that some radiation treatments would help.  The right nutrition, plenty or rest, and when I came home my grandmother would be doing better than when I left. But that is not what happened. The change was fast, and I don't think any of the doctors saw it coming.  But it did, and today my mom not only lost her mother but had the hard task of calling and telling me. Because of how far away from the airport I live and my roommate/supervisor being out of town this week and into next for a conference I will not be able to fly home to support my family and attend the funeral. I will be here, keeping the museum open and pretending that everything is ok.

This is not the first time I've been on my own to hear news like this, and usually it comes to me over the phone. I've almost learned to associate phones and loss, and recognize the fact that it will be a small miracle if I can every actually be present when my loved ones need me to be there for them. Or to say goodbye. I don't know if that says something awful about me or just brings home the point that as we- friends and family- spread out in life and begin to have our own adventures, sometimes the only way we will be 'there' for someone is in our thoughts. On the phone. Email. Facebook. Maybe the frenzied popularity of social media is our reaction to how far away from our core of loved ones we become when we follow our own road.  There are loved ones we can always count on to say the right thing, to drop everything and come to us when we need them. I have always thought of myself as one of those people. But this week I have been reminded that while my family is full of people who would drop what they are doing to help in any way possible, they are also the kind of people who want, and expect, us all to do what we need to do. Even if that means not coming home.

Freezing temperatures and earthquakes

Today contained two important milestones for me. The only problem (if you want to call it that) is that I missed one of them.  At 1:30am a 4.1 earthquake hit about ten miles northwest of us.  Fortunately, based on our site check this morning, it appears that nothing at the museum was damaged.  Sadly, I slept through it. Does this mean it doesn't count as my first earthquake? Jessica promises there will be more where that one came from.   Hopefully not for a little while yet, since one of my current projects is to prepare a list of supplies the museum should have on hand in case of earthquakes.  I've been doing research online, contacted several local groups through email, and tomorrow morning I have a phone appointment with someone from FEMA for some more brainstorming.

IVMD's off site storage containers

The second milestone was as much for the museum as for me.  Today we brought our first couple of boxes up from the off site storage and put them in the museum's freezer.  All my library/archive friends are probably quietly clapping while the rest of my friends are wondering if they read that sentence correctly.  Papers in the freezer?  Yes. You read that right: papers went in the freezer.  Why the freezer you ask? Well, freezers are good for more than just ice cream in the archival world.  Papers that have spent the last thirty years of their lives in a non-climate controlled off site storage container do not get to go right into a nice, clean, climate controlled archive.  Who knows what sort of insects, insect eggs, etc. the papers are carrying? So they'll spend the next three days in the freezer, two days out, and then back in the freezer for three more days before we sit down with them and sort the papers into specific series and folders.  Jessica and I were happy to learn that the freezer can hold more than just the two boxes worth of papers we brought up.  So things will hopefully go a little faster in the future and I may start dividing my time more between the museum lab and the off site containers instead of being off site most of the time.

 

Imperial Valley Desert Museum Internship

The Imperial Valley Desert Museum, Ocotillo, CA

While I was attending my first Society of American Archivists (SAA) convention in San Diego this August I met a Simmons alum named Jessica Brody. She invited me to do an internship at her museum, the Imperial Valley Desert Museum, establishing an archive for the startup museum.  I thought about it for awhile, since moving to the California desert for three months had never really been in my plans, but in the end decided that it was an opportunity I couldn't afford to pass up.  How many people, especially new archivists, get the chance to be involved in building a new museum and archive?

 On September 12 I flew back out to San Diego and, an hour and a half by car later, was in Ocotillo, CA. Population: roughly 200.  Mere miles from the Mexican border and in fact, closer to Mexico than the nearest town with a grocery store here in CA. Literally in the middle of the desert.  Imperial Valley is said to be officially the second hottest place to live in the USA- beaten only by Death Valley. Temperatures ranging from 103-110 are the daily norms.  I've seen cloud cover once since arriving.  Needless to say it's a dramatic change from New Orleans, where everything is green;  let alone Lake Forest, Huntington, or Boston, where I discovered seasons and snow.  I currently live in a trailer with Jessica as my roommate, we walk over the desert ten minutes to get to the museum, and I'm learning all about hiking and desert survival.

While I am learning how the museum operates and how to take care of everything in it, my main focus will be establishing a paper archive for the museum.  The museum was originally established thirty years ago in connection with the archaeology department of the Imperial Valley College.  But the college no longer has an archaeology department and so a small board of trustees is opening the museum to celebrate local history all on their own.  What does this mean for me? It means a large number of documents that haven't been looked at in thirty years, with a lot of information connected to the IVC.  Many of the people who worked to build the museum worked with the college and I'm finding papers for them- classes they taught, archaeological surveys they performed, articles they wrote. My current job is to survey and catalog all the paperwork I find in the museum's off site storage so that I can begin deciding what will go up to the museum for conservation and more detailed organization.  It's a daunting prospect, and much more than I expected to start my career doing.  But there is a real opportunity to make a difference here and establish something meaningful.  It is truly an amazing opportunity to begin my adventure as an archivist.