The Sandpit

The following morning, as I was removing the bike security, a couple of ladies who worked in the hotel, came over for a chat, curious about the bikes. As I was giving the normal story of our journey so far, Isi appeared and boy did this produce a reaction. “You’re a girl?” “On a bike?” “You ride your own bike?” They were full of awe and admiration with “Go Girl!” mentioned more than once. Isi would never call herself as such but this was yet another, clear example of how Isi is an inspiration to many - me included.

With no particular destination in mind, we headed north west, away from the Mexican border and across the less travelled areas of California and Arizona. No sooner had we left Yuma, than we came across a town called Felicity, with a population of just two. Jacques-Andres Istel created and named the town after his wife Felicia and are the sole occupants of the town. Jacques-Andres is the author of the children’s book, “Coe, The Good Dragon at the Centre of the World” and Felicity is shaped after this. Jacques-Andres is convinced this is the real centre of the world and has managed to gain affirmation from the Californian Imperial County and the French authorities - apparently, the only two authoritative bodies to do so.
Felicity is still being designed and produced and is the result of more than 2 decades of hard work and dedication by Jacques-Andres and his wife. There is a pyramid of stone and glass that envelopes a brass plaque that makes the actual centre of the World. The walkway leading to the church on the hill of prayer is flanked by 18 granite monuments, each being 100 feet long, 500 tonnes and depicting a chapter in the history of humanity. A 3D bronze sculpture of Michelangelo’s Hand of God is a sundial that also points to the church on the hill. Rather randomly, there is a circular staircase that starts from nothing in particular and leads to nowhere - a part of the Eiffel Tower’s original staircase and purchased at auction.

All the above information has been gleaned from the internet, after our visit. On the day, the town was closed to paying guests and, not knowing the origin, we were left with the feeling of this being some kind of religious cult and not the fantasy of (arguably) someone who has more money than sense. Having said that and knowing what I do now, I have to admire the dedication and conviction of one mans belief. A belief so strong to have not only created a unique place, but to have it officially recognised and given some establishment credibility, and not the fantasy world that it is (in my opinion).

Having left Felicity in our wake, the road deteriorated as we passed across the desert plains to join a better and more travelled road, where the only event of note was the passing of an immigration checkpoint. My theory is that the checkpoint is placed on one of very few minor roads that lead from the Mexican border and is there to identify and discourage smuggling of people who don’t have a right of access to the United States. All very well and dandy but, particularly with the cover of darkness, it would be easy to walk around this post. I guess they do serve a purpose as they are there and vehicles were being stopped - we were waved through with a smile so we never got to know what questions they may have been asking.

The road was full of RV’s towing 4x4s and dune buggies, from single seaters to 4 person seats, complete with roll bars, bucket seats and aerial whips that reminded me of the remote controlled cars I used play with as a kid (young adult with disposable income). We would pass by large areas containing hundreds and hundreds of RV’s, food and retail stalls and stages for different entertainment. As we wondered what was going on, we saw the Imperial Sand Dunes appear on the horizon and grow before our eyes. Either side of the tarmac road, the landscape changed from desert scrub to golden sands, with numerous buggies and the occasional 4x4 and motorcycles, churning their way through the sand on trajectories that only the driver could know. As we neared the top of the dunes, a car-park appeared and we spent a few hours just watching the various vehicles, whilst eating our lunchtime feast of bagels and cheese - Philadelphia, no less.

Vast swathes of the dunes are closed to recreational activity, as they are home to many species of flora and fauna that only exist here. The recreational use is limited to small pockets, with the Imperial Sand Dunes area being the largest. During the winter and at times of various holidays, the area can be home to many hundreds of thousands of visitors, who contribute enormously to the local communities and continue to enjoy the access afforded to them. Access is controlled by permits with availability running out quickly.

In case you’re wondering about the very large aerial whips, they are the first you can see of any vehicle approaching from the other side of a dune top. There are no roads or rules to how you drive the dunes, so potential for oncoming traffic is high.

Having consulted iOverlander, we aimed for Salton Sea campground for a few nights stay under canvas. As far as we could tell, we had to pre-book at least 48hrs in advance but, as before, we thought we would chance it.

As we left the dunes behind us, we entered a grid-work of irrigated fields that were quite an assault on the senses, after days of barren desert. With a few left and right turns, we continued a general direction of north west. At one such junction, we were following a local truck and had a cop car behind us. Isi chose this time to record some of the area and, since Isi is short of body and, seated, the camera would be filled with a dusty penguin and bug obscured wind screen, so she stood on the pegs. We neared a right turn junction with a stop sign and, just as the truck in front, we didn’t bother to indicate as it was obvious which way we were going. Unlike the truck in front but normal for us, we didn’t stop at the stop sign but rolled to a slow crawl, assessed the junction was clear and took the turn.

All of a sudden, the cop car lit up its lights and sounded the sirens. We thought we were in trouble but, to our relief, it was the truck in front that was his intended victim and we carried on our way, oblivious to the various California state laws we had broken. The ones we subsequently identified were: Standing on the pegs. This is specifically mentioned in the state law as a rider is not considered to be in control unless sat on the bike. Not stopping at a stop sign. Yes, very obvious and the same as UK law; and failing to indicate. Contrary to our training, indicators must be used regardless of what use they may be to other road users.

Finally we neared Salton Sea and the campground and having gained the attention of a very young but smartly dressed ranger, I was able to book a few nights accommodation. Not an easy thing to do as, despite the campsite being nearly empty, he kept saying we should have booked at least 48hrs previously. Eventually, we got booked in and rode off to choose our pitch…

Blown out of the Desert

Desert Life!