Painted Canyon

It is mid afternoon when we leave the Patton museum. We drive from Chiriaco and follow Hwy 195 along Box Canyon Road descending towards Indio. We pass the canal on the flats and turn northwest along the hills and follow the road that parallels the San Andres fault zone. Rugged hills are on our right and the saltine flats are on our left.

Memories of my childhood engulf me. I remember, as a child, driving with my mother, along the irrigation canals to go to my kindergarten in Mecca. I remember exciting camping and hiking expeditions up painted canyon where the canyon walls narrowed and I could touch both sides of the canyon with my outstretched hands. The rock walls were a glorious mixture of burnt oranges and yellow ochres, swirled together like partially mixed cake batter. At one point, the canyon was so narrow and fractured and the ascent so steep that a rickety wooden ladder was nailed to the rock face to the help hikers climb to the next level of the canyon. I remember with awe, that my father would magically repair a rotted rung of the wooden ladder, making it possible for us to continue our hiking adventure. My short, little girl legs needed help to ascend steep and narrow sections of the canyon and my parents were always behind me, giving me a push up to the next level. The adventures that I experienced in Painted Canyon have significantly influenced my life and my expectations of travel and adventure to this day.

We drive two miles up the canyon along a beautifully graded gravel road. It is late afternoon and the day is overcast, so the wonderful jumble of mountains that make up this area of the San Andres fault is not optimally lit for photographs. I recall camping here, on a Girl Scout expedition, when one of my scout mates discovered a beautiful black, hairy tarantula. To the arachnids dismay, our troupe adopted it for the weekend and it went home with one of the girls to become a family pet.

I drive my father to the end of the road. There is an expansive, well graded parking area and we sit for a few minutes to gaze further up the canyon. From this point on, one must be on foot and I watch a a small group of hikers enter the mouth of the canyon.