An evening hike in Joshua Tree Park

It was about 3:30 when we reached Twentynine Palms, the narrow town stretching along the highway north of Joshua Tree National Park where we would spend the night. We quickly checked into our hotel, dropped off our luggage and found the National Park office a little further back. There was still enough time left for a short hike. The ranger recommended Skull Rock trail, a loop short enough to complete in the remaining daylight and watch the sunset from there.

Just like last year, when we came from the south, the road climbed gradually but steadily, and soon the first big boulders appeared, just as impressive as I remembered. How these huge rocks can stay upright, so precariously piled upon each other, and not topple is hard to fathom. Sometimes they look as if a giant had stacked them haphazardly, at other times it seems as if someone had carefully shaped them to fit like an enormous jigsaw puzzle, reminding me of the Inca sites in Peru. 

The higher we climbed the more Joshua trees appeared by the side of the road, sometimes stretching far into the distance like a widely spaced forest, their crooked limbs pointing into all directions like eerie signposts. Cream coloured buds had emerged from their artichoke-like protective coverings, the single blossoms tightly pressed against one another, almost ready to open to their beautiful starry perfection, but not one of them was quite there yet. I checked often, hoping to show our friends what had so delighted me last year, but my wish was not granted. Other, smaller plants were more obliging: desert paintbrush and the chuparosa burning bright red, the deep purple flowers of the indigo bush, shrubs with clusters of tiny white flower stars. Cocoons of about the size of one to two fists frequently clung to the branches of the latter, and when I went to investigate I saw a black mass wriggling on the inside, and finally I found one where the black caterpillars had broken out of their nursery, ready to start feeding – on the leaves of this bush, I presume. Unfortunately I wasn't able to ask a ranger about this anymore, but maybe I can find out when we are in Death Valley.

The sun slowly moved closer to the horizon. We stopped from time to time to climb up one of the rough boulders for a view of the surroundings. Many of the rocks were topped with small human figures: it is hard to resist climbing up a gentler slope of one of these giant building blocks, their conveniently rough surface giving a nice secure foothold. 

We reached aptly named Skull Rock in time for sundown at 5:45. The sun, however, had pulled a veil across its face, so that only the brighter glow in the west revealed its position. Soon darkness would descend, and for us it was time to go back to our pleasant “El Rancho Dolores” motel.