Twentynine Palms

A week ago I convinced my friend Terry to accompany me to Twentynine Palms.  Actually, he didn’t need much convincing.  He’s always game for a new adventure. 

On Saturday I met him out in Banning at 9:00 am, parked the car, then got into his roadster and away we went.  Twentynine Palms is a little over an hour’s drive from Banning, which meant that we would have plenty of time to make it to Chamber of Commerce for the 11:00 Tour of the Murals. 

Along the way we enjoyed the desert view and reasonably cool weather.  Terry saw a house near the road and asked me how I’d like to live there.  When I turned to see what kind of home he was talking about, I saw a deserted, dilapidated, one-room lean-to.   Typical Terry joke.

We arrived half an hour early at the Chamber of Commerce so we ate some of the snacks we’d brought and waited for the bus.  As the time approached and no tour bus showed up, I double checked the brochure to find a phone number to call.  That’s when I saw “Call for reservations” written at the bottom.  Whoops.  Our bus tour just became a walking tour…

Neither of us got upset and just decided to roll with the flow of the situation. Of course, I couldn’t get upset because I was the idiot who didn’t make the reservations. Fortunately, I had brought along a map of the murals, which meant that we could see them by ourselves on foot.  As we were walking along the mural route, Terry noticed an Army surplus store and wanted to go in.  Twentynine Palms is located right near a military base so there are a few military supply stores in town.  I wasn’t too interested in the wares until Terry pointed out a really interesting wool coat – a gray Swiss army coat that was my size.  He thought that I might be able to use it when I go to Ulaanbaatar, the coldest capital on the planet. Since it’s a man’s coat, it was a little small in the chest.  Terry said that it might work depending on what I was going to wear underneath it.  I said that I’d just put it on right out of the shower… because not much would fit between my skin and the coat!  Then I told him that it would be even better if I put it on before showering so that I could mold it to my body as it dried.  Terry wasn’t too convinced that my plan would work but bought me the coat as a gift.  He said that I could buy him lunch later.  So that’s how I ended up acquiring a wool coat out in the high desert.

We ended up seeing quite a bit out there: the Schoolhouse Museum; a funky, low-grade art gallery; an authentic Art Gallery; and the Twentynine Palms Inn.  Terry and I both considered buying pieces of art.  I liked a beautiful photo of a fabulous desert flower with a bee inside it.  Terry appreciated a digitalized photo that looked like a nebula.

We finally made it out to the original twenty nine palms that made up the original Oasis of Mara, a vital water stop for travelers.  My brother calls them “twenty nine stumps” because some of the palms have died and others are not exactly flourishing due to the loss of water caused by earthquakes.   There are other former oases called 49 Palms, really close by, and Thousand Palms, but we didn’t go see them.   We went to the Joshua Tree National Park visitor center, picked up a few brochures and talked about planning a camping trip to the park before I go to Mongolia.

We planned on seeing Pioneertown, a fabricated ghost town, on the way back but got sidetracked at the Cactus Mart.  I got poked by a few cacti while turning around and while trying to pry some baby cacti out of their containers.  Pulling the needles out of my skin was not easy. Terry was much smarter and used the long tongs that were available.  I didn’t notice them until after having drawn blood a number of times.

At the end of the journey, we stopped for a cherry pie before parting ways.  Terry, the “pie man,” as I call him, long ago started a tradition between of us of eating pie to celebrate, commemorate, commiserate or just plain savor.  Basically, Terry believes that pie is the answer to everything.   So another adventure ended on a sweet note.