Ever wanted to live in the High Desert? Palmdale fence-to-fence with properties for sale. Large slabs of land, owner financing, free with a rebate, you name it. Bet you could get huge chunk for a really good price too! Two snags — it would be in the High Desert zone of California, i.e. in the middle of nowhere and it’s blisteringly hot — like 111. And how the heck do I know this?
Well, we had an interesting adventure last week, heading to the San Bernadino part of LA County for our son’s concert. I’m always up for a new journey, an exploration of territories yet unchartered in my life and sometimes I am pleasantly surprised. This was not one of those times. “Oh, it’s an easy four hours,” he said. Not bad. We would just take our time and enjoy the views along the way. Except that is not what happened.
South County to Paso Robles has to be one of the best routes to travel in the whole country. Wide-open empty roads stretching out into nothingness with well-watered vineyards both sides are a driver’s delight. No stress, no traffic, no nothing. And then things get a little sketchy. Highway 46, or the James Dean Memorial Highway — may he RIP — goes on a bit in its single-lane and road-worked plus 40-year traffic plan kind of way. People get really bored and overtake where they shouldn’t, so it’s a bit of a road for bad language and terrible accidents, has to be said.
We got turned off from the dreary but predictable highway 5 at about the Gorman turn off, which leads you through the attractive-sounding — it’s not — Antelope Valley and into Lancaster and Palmdale. Oh, my golly, Miss Molly. I think we were maybe in the armpit of California, and I had previously thought that was located in the Central Valley. No, this got the queen’s award for dismalness with its abandoned trailers and wreaths from two Christmases ago to its solo trailers in the middle of a nothing field that was going nowhere very fast. It was pretty depressing and extremely hot — the only saving grace being the buoyantly optimistic sunflowers that somehow survived and smiled on the side of the sandy road as we passed at a duly law-abiding 35 mph.
I learned a lot about Joshua Trees traveling through the High Desert. There are a lot of them, and they grow all over the place, regardless. “I have heard of them in songs,” I tell husband like a champ, and he looks at me with doubt. (He later verified my statement.) Yes, there’s no shortage of those things in this moonwalk of acre upon acre of nothing. Occasionally we would come across a solar farm — yes, now that is a very good idea, I would say, like a cheerleader. There is nothing here but heat and sun — better make something positive out of that! And still the real estate boards went on and on. Just out of curiosity, I need to look and see what 40 acres would cost you in no-man’s land in the High Desert. I might gasp.
Finally, we started crawling into what was obviously an LA suburb. San Bernardino. Oh, dear me. This was not a happy place either. It did not have the high desert charm of Lancaster or Palmdale, but it was equally down on its luck. Too many dreary dime stores and gas stations blending in with dodgy taquerias and small motels. This was a downer. Fortunately, our son and his wife had already arrived at the newly built hotel property there and we had lovely cool and airy suites to relax in with a pool and yummy breakfast.
The concert venue was downtown San B in a lovely leafy amphitheater situation. Sadly, we drove past tent city in the neighboring park to get there and you could see what the parks and recs department had to deal with. They had created a lovely “Sizzling Summer in the Park” event with booths, food and music for the crowds, yet the crowds did not want to come because of the tent cities. Oh California, what are you going to do about your enormous homeless problems that seem to pervade every city and never improve.
The show was lovely. Not an enormous audience by any stroke of the imagination, but a lovely and appreciative crowd who truly enjoyed the music. As we drove away, I felt sorry for the parks and rec department who had truly done their very best with what they had to work with and made grand efforts to generate an audience for their summer night in the park. I hope they persevere and emerge victorious. The homeless issue is an all-of-us issue and we need to really work on some concrete solutions that will work for them and the communities in which they reside.
Looking at the enormous slabs of land in the High Desert, one does have to wonder if, perhaps, a new town or two might be in order. A place where our needy folks can get the respect and the treatments they deserve — a place for them and their pets (often their only companions left in the world) — to rest, recuperate, rebuild and perhaps step out again into society as a mended individual. Some won’t make it, but at least they will be cared for within a system that is there for them and them alone. I see a village of tiny houses with medical and mental health professionals onsite and available to help those struggling on the streets. Really, California, is that too much to ask?
As the 4-5th largest economy in the world, I have to stand up and say you have a ways to go in terms of being the most civilized population in the world, but I do think it is doable. We have the money, we have the resources and — God help us, Palmdale — we have the space. From where I am standing, there is no excuse.
The road to San Bernadino was an interesting one, full of Joshua trees, solar farms and ideas outside of my own scope of influence.
