The Kelso Dunes: I’m driving through the Mojave Desert, north of Twentynine Palms after working on a Joshua Tree post, and the map app is telling me that I’m close to my destination, the Kelso Dunes.
But I don’t see any ‘dunes’ anywhere, only more mountain ridges in every direction.
After a few more miles of looking out my driver’s side window, I realize that what I thought were more mountains on the far horizon are actually, in some sort of optical illusion/forced perspective thing, massive sand dunes, rising in a series of peaks off the desert floor.
Wait a minute. We’re not in Kansas anymore, or Cape Hatteras for that matter. This is 45 square miles of sand, rising about a tenth of a mile into the sky.
When I pull into the trailhead, two things immediately come to mind; can I hike all the way to the top? (irresistible, but as it turned out, no) and can I get some great photos of a really unique landscape? (irresistible, and yes).
I headed out on a ‘trail’ of sorts, which quickly dissipates into no trail of any sort, as footprints on a trail in the sand are quickly brushed clean by the wind.
This is the part of the Mojave desert that actually looks like a desert; an abundance of just sand and sky, with a persistent wind and unrelenting sunshine.
Having spent some time lugging camera gear around sand dunes in Florida, I knew what I was in for; one of those ‘two steps forward and one step back’ situations where whatever energy I had set aside for hiking out here quickly gave way to the maddening inefficiency of walking in loose sand.
I powered on, getting some nice shots on the way to the top, walking on the upslope side of the dunes where the footing is a little firmer, until it wasn’t. I got about 3/4 of the way to the top but the sand got progressively unstable while underfoot and combined with the August heat (I know, I know) and about 28 pounds of camera backpack (I know, I know) decided to try again after a winter rain… with just an iPhone.
Speaking of rain… The other thing that caught my attention quickly was the plant life. I mean, scraping out an existence anywhere in the Mojave is hard enough, even for the humans, but making a stand in nothing but sand that’s been stripped clean of almost any organic matter on its tumbling, multi-mile journey from the Mojave river bed 33 miles to the west, is a big ask. But there’s a little secret. There’s some moisture down there lingering from the last time it rained.
These blades of grass and other plants in the sand take advantage of the fact that the dunes can actually store moisture for quite some time after a rain. The sand absorbs almost all of the water that falls and, as the sun returns, it drys and ‘bakes’ the surface into a cover that prevents further evaporation of the fallen rain below this newly formed, yet delicate, top ‘crust.’ There’s apparently enough of that moisture left below the surface to support the grasses and, further down slope, some creosote, mesquite and ricegrass plants.
And, by the way, don’t step anywhere near the plant life. You’ll expose that little bit of stored moisture underneath the crispy surface to evaporation and, well… kill the plant.
The sand has been carried here from dry season alluvial runoff of the Mojave River, many miles to the west. As the sand granules are picked up, then dropped, then picked up again by the varying pressures of the wind, they get refined to a remarkably consistent granularity and color. Most of the sand is quartz and feldspar with some black sand bits of magnetite. You might want to bring a magnet to draw some of the magnetite out of the other bits of sand.
This consistency adds to the starkness of the dunes, especially when cast against the clear blue and dry California sky.
This landscape is really a study of form and light. There are smooth, gentle circles, sharp edges, and big sweeping bowls of conical sand.
And as you take pictures here, you know the subject matter is fleeting. It’s constantly moving all the time in the wind. So if you come back tomorrow, it will be different.
The downside of all the wind and the motion is that it can get into your equipment. So, given the environment, you might want to consider leaving your newest lenses in the car, or at least cover them somehow as you trudge about in the blowing sand.
While we’re on the subject of ‘environment’, I often say that in the heat of the desert, it’s not the heat that will kill you, it’s the sunlight. And there’s plenty of sunlight blasting through the cloudless atmosphere. If you do get into trouble, you’ve got to find some shade somewhere.
Make sure you dress appropriately with at least a hat and long sleeves to protect your skin and arms. And bring plenty of fluids; you don’t really sweat out here as the humidity is so low, so dehydration can sneak up on you. In this setting, if you’re thirsty, you’re probably already dehydrated, so you need to head back to the car to get something to drink. Something you had better brought along for the ride. There’s no water fountains out here.
So, optical illusions aside, the dunes are a very real and unique environment and will certainly round out a visit to Joshua Tree or even Las Vegas. Get up early, bring plenty of fluids, sunscreen and sunglasses, and maybe leave your better camera gear behind. And see if you can make it to the top.
Photo Factor: The downside of all the wind and the motion is that it will get into your equipment. Especially your lenses and the lens barrels. I pretty much trashed a 24 to 120 mm Nikon lens. It wasn’t the newest lens that I own but it’s a handy focal length. But the sand just got inside the barrel where you twist the zoom and that was that.
So use something, anything, to cover your lenses in some way.
This situation just screams ‘polarizer’… Don’t forget to bring one.
I’d also pare down my camera backpack to a minimal amount of gear; swap the weight of that lens you think you’ll need with fluids.
Navigation: The trailhead/parking lot doesn’t have any higher features like a flagpole or tall trees that you can fix to as you wonder around the dunes. Pin your location with an app before you head out. I didn’t, and ended up walking about a mile out of my way to the campground, which has some trees. It would have been nice to avoid an extra mile walk to get back to the car, and something to drink.
By the way, if you happen to fine a pair of clear glasses lying in the sand, I could use them back. 🙂
Resources: Geology Underfoot in Southern California by Sylvester, Sharp and Glazner; National Park Service, Mojave National Preserve.
