Desert Field School

Coyote Mountains 

Monday we spent the day exploring the Yuha Desert with Steve Lucas, an archaeologist and member of the Kumeyaay (the local Native American tribe).  He was showing us some of the geoglyphs that can be found in the Yuha and explaining some of their significance to the Kumeyaay.  It was a beautiful day, we learned a lot and had a great time.

Off roading in our Jeep we found some of the ancient trails made by the Kumeyaay over time (perhaps centuries), as they traveled from place to place depending on the changing seasons.  While there were plenty of other off road wheel tracks from vehicles, there were a few places where we could find the wider tracks made by tanks during World War II.  This area was where Patton and his troops trained for the deserts of North Africa and we’ve found several artifacts in our collection but this was the first time we’d seen tank tracks.

Off-roading and World War II tank tracks

Geoglyphs are earthen art made by Native Americans by tamping down the earth in a particular pattern.  Here, most of those geoglyphs illustrate Kumeyaay legends: the creation of the world, good and evil coming to mankind, etc.  Cairns and other rock formations are joined with the geoglyphs to recreate star patterns or mountain ranges or act as spirit breaks.  One pattern we saw shows the Milky Way and Pleiades constellation.  I was very interested in this idea since most of what I know about cairns and earthen/stone formations and spirit breaks comes from the Celtic tradition, which focuses on myths and crossing worlds, but does not try to recreate the land or stars.  There’s probably a thesis topic in that thought somewhere, but I’ll leave that to someone else to try.

The geoglyphs we looked at were all fenced off as the government’s way of managing and protecting them.  Only one had a sign to tell you what you were looking at, and that sign was more focused on explaining that geoglyphs are damaged by motorcycles and off-roaders and so are fenced off.  It left us wondering: is that the best way to protect the sacred geoglyphs?  Should they be kept secret as the best way to preserve them or talked about, maybe even used by the Kumeyaay again?  Is there a point in saving them if they are no longer in use? After all, isn’t the point of something being sacred that it is used/visited and continues to connect people to their ancestors and religion?  If you fence them off, should you put up more signs to educate the people who see them as a way of helping to promote respect and knowledge of the local peoples? 

Square geoglyph, possibly showing boundary lines

At the Yuha geoglyph another question came up: the question of erosion.  The earth is taking back the land the geoglyph was formed on, and eventually between wind wiping away the patterns and erosion crumbling the earth itself, the geoglyph will be gone.  What do you do about that?  Anything?  Nothing?  Who decides?  The land is managed by the Bureau of Land Management and the federal government.  Do they decide?  Do the Kumeyaay? 

Fossilized clay from the ancient ocean bed, today the Yuha Desert

One of the interesting things about the Yuha is that you can pass huge areas of ancient clay beds that remind you the whole area used to be an ocean.  It’s hard to imagine as you look around today how different the area looked millions of years ago.  I learn different things about the land, the plants, and the rocks every time I’m out in the desert with someone.  Hopefully some of it sticks so that the next time I’m out I can read the story of the desert a little bit more.  As someone who grew up in New Orleans, a land of no rocks, I’ve developed a whole new appreciation for them.  While I can’t read them as well as Jessica and most of the other people here, I hope I’m developing an eye for the rocks and the trails and the stories they have to tell me.  There’s no telling what I’ll learn next.  And that’s a great part of the adventure.

Yuha Desert on the other side of the Yuha Geoglyph

Stargazing Fun

Dennis Mammana & Steve Benton show guests the moon

In 2012 the first IVDM Stargazing party was the event that showed our community’s interest in the museum and launched the museum we’ve been working so hard to produce.  This Saturday was going to be another major Stargazing party.  Having heard about last year’s party since I got here, I was really glad I was going to have the chance to be at this one.  We were going to have Dennis Mammana, a professional night sky photographer, come and do a talk on the moon (Saturday was the first night of the full Cold Moon or Wolf Moon for those of you keeping score), people were bringing their telescopes out, and the event was advertized far and wide.  The museum is in a great place for stargazing as there is very little light pollution around us.  The windmills glowing red night lights make things a little weird, but now that the Texaco behind us has closed down we don’t have to deal with its’ bright sign and we get a really great view of the stars in three directions. 

Starting Tuesday Jessica, Jacob, and I began cleaning the museum from top to bottom and watching the sky.  Ocotillo’s weather is usually very predictable: sunny and warm, alternating sunny and windy.  In winter there are a few weeks of sunny but cold.  Since we were having an outdoor event Murphy’s Law kicked in this week and we had heavy clouds the entire week.  Normally not a problem, and at times even a nice change of pace.   But the closer we got to Saturday, the more worried we became.  Thursday made things worse by being the first time since I’ve moved here that it rained. All.  Day.  Long.  People called and asked if we were still planning on holding the event and we said yes.  After all, the lecture was indoors, and people could at least come out to hear a talk, eat some cookies, and check out the museum.  We cleaned like crazy and tried to keep thinking positively: it WOULD clear up for Saturday!  All day Saturday was cloudy but by the time people started arriving at 6pm things were looking up.  By 6:30 we had the first beautifully clear night sky we’d seen in a week!

The event was great.  Over 80 people attended, lots of them kids.  Many people were seeing the museum for the first time, others hadn’t been back since the party last year and were amazed at how different the building looked!  The talk was great, and accompanied by some gorgeous pictures of the moon that Dennis has taken over the years- the sorts of pictures I try for with my little Nikon point and shoot and will never, ever match.  Three large telescopes came out and everyone got the chance to see the moon up close, as well as a few of our favorite constellations.  I got to see Jupiter and 4 of his moons through our treasurer Steve Benton’s impressive set up.

Steve Benton sets up his telescope as the sky clears and the moon rises

To give the kids other options we had arts and crafts in the library and Neal Hitch and I did our coiled clay set up in the future archives lab.  I lost count of the number of kids that came to play with clay but it felt like at least 20 of all ages.  Several of them got into the spirit of making pots and competing with Neal to see whose pot would be best.  Others just wanted to play and made clay dragons, dice, little hearts with “joy” or “love” carved into them, and generally just had a blast.  I have no idea if they learned anything about coiled clay pots from the evening, but they did learn one thing that we say here every day: we are the most fun museum ever.

Clay dragon fun

A Little Something Different

I was trying to come up with something profound, or at least, thoughtful, to describe coming back out to Ocotillo, CA after having been home with my family for almost a month.  The sadness of leaving my family, the excitement of coming back to work and an environment I have come to love (even if it is far too cold at the moment).  But then something major hit the news and I decided instead to follow my friend Kyle Eichenberger's example and bring up current events in my blog. Don't worry, it probably won't happen often.

What current topic could I possibly have to weigh in on, you ask?  Perhaps you will remember last week when the results of tests and an autopsy were released in regards to the brain of former football player Junior Seau, who committed suicide in May.  Scientists were shocked to discover that Seau had a condition they call CTE, chronic traumatic encephalopathy "likely brought on by two decades of blows to the head as a football player, the report said."  Roughly translated for the non-scienctists: swelling of the brain from multiple concussions.

Who would have thought that repeated blows to the head would be a problem?  Apparently not NFL players, many of whom are now who are suing the NFL for keeping the risks of playing football to themselves.  The study suggests soldiers, who often receive concussions from blasts, may also have this problem.  Since the NHL isn't mentioned I'm assuming another study will be paid for to discover that NHL players are also at high risk of this "brain disease".  

CTE is not something that can be diagnosed until after doing an autopsy on a person's brain.  However TBI, or Traumatic Brain Injury, is both real and something that can be diagnosed while a person is still alive.  The symptoms are largely the same: mood swings, memory loss, depression, etc. are all symptoms of this injury.  However, I can speak from personal experience that the majority of 'mainstream' doctors like neurologists do not recognize this injury as something real.  If they can't see it with their own eyes, measure it exactly, then they believe it can't be real.  In my case, my neurologist is happy to prescribe medicine while actually believing I am nothing more than an hysterical female making things up.  After all, my concussion was years ago and I never lost consciousness.  I couldn't have a problem.

I have TBI.  It is not something I would wish on my worst enemy. And at this stage in my life, I probably only have a moderate case of TBI.  I am able to go to and graduate from grad school,  hold down a job, have a full conversation with people and even though I can remember very few things from  my life before the accident, I can now remember things from after the accident.  Why?  Because I have a doctor who thinks outside the box.  "Real" doctors like my neurologist were unable or unwilling to recognize a problem that my family, friends, and myself all saw. My chiropractor however, looks at the whole picture, reads everything he can get his hands on, and can quote in detail the heartbreaking number of our soldiers coming back with TBI who are not getting the help they need.  He has joined the small rank of doctors who have discovered a way to help sufferers of TBI.  HyperBaric Oxygen Therapy.  It helps.  Probably nothing can completely repair the damage done to a concussed brain, especially one who receives as many concussions as a professional athlete or soldier. The brain is a delicate and mysterious organ we will probably never really fully understand. But if 'mainstream' doctors will get their heads out of their tiny boxes and look at a larger picture, the whole body, and now the common sense studies backing up the idea that brain injuries cause severe physical and psychological problems in individuals, maybe something more can be done.  CTE may be an "invisible disease" only found after death, but that doesn't mean that a sufferer can't be helped while they are alive.  Maybe never completely, but any quality of life improvement is something to be thankful for.  Whether it will help enough to reduce the number of suicides in the injury sufferers (can you tell I don't like the term 'disease' applied to this?) is of course, impossible to tell.  But any help at all is better than they had before, and in some cases it might be enough.

If you get nothing else out of this semi-rant, remember this: your doctor doesn't necessarily have all the answers.  Even though he wants you to believe he does.  Listen to your body and what it tells you over what a test says.  You are more likely to know yourself.  

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.