OnBlueUnderCanvas

The four of us — Kirk, his parents, Kevin and Val, and I — spent Easter Sunday in the desert. In the comfort of the car’s A/C, I read aloud the average temperatures of the summer months in Borrego Springs during our drive to the slot canyon trailhead. June through October: over 100°. Did I mention that’s the average? Highs are over 120°.

“People live here year-round?” asked Kevin.

Believe it or not, people do.

We all agreed: the desert is an amazing and unique place. But, there’s a reason why the Bible says Jesus fasted for forty days in the desert. It wasn’t supposed to be a walk in the park.

Spring temperatures in the mid-seventies for Anza-Borrego seem pleasant enough. Still, dawdling around outside the visitor’s center in the direct desert sun, I started sweating. A hike through the slot canyon would be shaded and comfortable.

Arriving at the canyon’s rim, we parked and made the descent on foot. The trail started wide, then quickly narrowed.

On the floor, it was quiet.

A close look revealed water’s fingerprints in the texture of the walls.

It was hard to imagine a flash flood ripping through such a quiet space.

After making it through the windy narrows, we could’ve walked the rim back to the car, but we opted to backtrack along the floor. Shimmying through the canyon was more fun. ☼

Interested in visiting Anza-Borrego? Go during wildflower season (March & April). The flowers are beautiful.

From far away, the desert looks dead.

Get closer –

but not too close –

and you’ll see beautiful life everywhere.

Barrel cactuses with crowns of flowers,

and ocotillos tipped with red-orange blossoms,

their branches covered in tiny leaves.

Cholla (choy-ya), looking fuzzy from afar,

reproduce by dropping segments of their branches on the ground

and attaching themselves with their prickly spines to passersby (including Kirk’s mom’s foot! Ouch.)

Not everything was blooming, or alive.

Dead cholla.

The rocks weren’t alive either, but they still entertained Kirk.

This baby barrel, with spines untamed, was my favorite cactus.

Cactus love. ☼

Kirk and I celebrated his 29th birthday on blue, under canvas. We rented a Catalina Capri 22 from Harbor Yacht Club and set off through San Diego Bay out to the Pacific.

I’m all smiles above, but after clearing Point Loma, I started feeling seasick. Going back and forth between the cockpit and the cooler below to replenish beers and food every few minutes was a mistake. I headed to the foredeck and hung onto a shroud to try to shake the nausea.

We tacked back and forth out in the ocean until the wind died and showed no signs of picking up. Kirk then pointed us back into the bay, sailing the boat by these lovable guys. They cheered me up immensely.

In the bay, the rollers died. I lied down on the cockpit bench, my head on Kirk’s leg while he steered. The boat gently rocked back and forth like a hammock. The afternoon sun felt warm. My nausea melted away. Now this was perfect.

The only thing left to do: birthday cake. I sang — albeit horribly off-tune — the Happy Birthday song to Kirk.

Now, how are we going fulfill our dream of sailing around the world when I get seasick from a few minutes on the open ocean? No worries, it’s figured out. Either 1) Kirk will cook while I stay above to man the helm and/or 2) we’re getting a catamaran. ☼

Two weeks back, my family met for a long weekend in Florida. We stayed at my grandparents’ condo in Punta Rassa, from which it’s only a few-minute drive across the causeway to Sanibel Island.

It was cold for a day at the beach, just 65 degrees. I was in my bikini for ten minutes before I had to throw my shirt back on. It was the warmest day we had during our entire trip, so we took what beach time we could get. Kelly found a frisbee in the surf. We tossed it back and fourth until the previous owner saw us and put two and two together. Mom scoured the beach for shells and played with her Canon Rebel; Dad read The Glass Castle.

[Above: Drinks at The Mucky Duck, a beachside restaurant on Captiva Island.] ☼