California Weird

Poor Florian made the mistake of showing me pictures of Salvation Mountain he'd taken a few days before I arrived in Palm Springs.  If you've seen "Into The Wild," you'll know why I wanted to see it for myself.  From Joshua Tree, we travelled southwest through the Orocopia mountains to the Salton Sea on a beautiful, barely trafficked two-lane blacktop.

Florian caught me in the act of one of my interminable photo ops.

Our route took us past farm workers in the Imperial Valley.

For a minute, I thought this might be Agent Orange's border wall.  It was long enough, and we had to pass a Border Patrol checkpoint 20 miles south.

Arko loves a window hang at speeds up to 40 mph.

The Salton Sea is saltier than the Pacific and 200 feet below sea level.  Few fish can tolerate the salinity but birds (and tweakers!) love the place.

Half a century after the Manson family achieved its chilling notoriety, you still can find cult-like, off-the-grid enclaves in California .

Arko was a little more irreverent than most visitors to the very colorful Salvation Mountain, constructed of painted clay and hay.  Think of your last paper mache project in grammar school, but on a much larger scale.

It's hard for even a non-believer like me to dispute the defining "God Is Love" principle, despite the cross at the pinnacle.

Black and white definitely accentuates the kissed by God vibe of this photo.

Interior sections offer welcome shade from the hot sun, even on a relatively cool afternoon.  Temps in the summer routinely top 100 degrees.

Salvation Mountain deservedly has been recognized by the Folk Art Society of America.

The same message appears on virtually every object.

Love the mailbox.

East Jesus is a hop, skip and a jump away.

The vibe there is a little scarier, or at least more ambiguous.

For example, that sign at Chateau Relaxo says "If I could have it my way, I'll have them all shot."

Yet a peace sign hangs nearby.

En route back to Palm Springs, we stopped a Bombay Beach, a development abandoned because the Salton Sea has shrunk considerably since the damming of the Colorado River. Like the impact of climate change, but in reverse.

Artists, some of whom continue to live there, use the near ghost town as their canvas.

This used to be water-front property in the 50s.

Looks like a former jetty.

Finned cars litter the area like beached whales.

Burning Man, anyone?