A 13-year-old was served an order banning him from using the word “grass” anywhere in England and Wales.

…

In February 2003, a 16-year-old boy was banned from showing his tattoos, wearing a single golf glove, or wearing a balaclava in public anywhere in the country.

…

A 26-year-old West Lothian man has been made the subject of an ASBO after playing the Band Aid single “Do they know it’s Christmas” dozens of times daily to the annoyance of neighbours. He has been banned from “playing loud music, stamping his feet and dropping objects.”

And my personal favorite:

The oldest recipient of an order to date is an 87-year-old who among other things is forbidden from being sarcastic to his neighbours.

All under Labour governments! Just imagine what the Tories will do.

Share on Facebook

And change it does. From the piñon forest at the top, you descend through full-on deserts and semi-arid scrub.The Colorado River at the canyon’s bottom leads through varied environments, from red rocks naked and Martian to lush riparian habitats. The uncanny effect of moving vertically through these zones*, finding them nested one right atop the other, put me in mind of Gus van Sant’s 2002 film Gerry, in which Casey Affleck and Matt Damon do little else but go for a walk, get lost, and nearly both die. One of the most unsettling elements of the film is that though the two men remain on foot the entire time, the location shifts dramatically over the course of their hundred minutes, from sand dunes to salt flats, from Utah to Jordan to Argentina. The shifts aren’t subtle, visually, but they go unremarked upon; the effect amplifies the characters’ dangerous inattention to their path,  and heightens the feeling that they’ve come unmoored from their world and their lives.

the landscape changes

This, in turn, put me in mind of another movie in which a critical element changes without comment (save, perhaps, the film’s title):

Luis Bunuel’s That Obscure Object of Desire gives us a sexual battle between a couple that is really a triangle: Mathieu must content with the temperamental nature of his elusive Conchita, made more so by her portrayal by the Betty-and-Veronica pairing of Carole Bouquet and Angela Molina. As with the landscape in Gerry, the character of Conchita appears played by two different actresses with neither comment nor easily comprehensible logic.

This episode of Things That Look Like Other Things has been brought to you by things that do not look like themselves.

Extra credit, Gerry: “Nothing Happens To No One, The Death Trilogy of Gus Van Sant” by Holly Myers at n+1

Share on Facebook

Mumbles. Crop. Whip.

“No, see, in the interest of political correctness, The Man has prohibited us from ever using the word ‘whip’. So we call this a ‘mule motivator.’”

The chief of the Grand Canyon mule rides had the expert comic patter of tour guides, refined and rehearsed through day-in, day-out operations, leavened with cowboy poetry. Funny to hear ‘political correctness’ (at base, an ironic way of stating your opposition to civility) lingering on. He had his laugh lines down to a science (HJ’s mule was introduced to her as “Suicide”; her name was actually Marcy). This one stuck out–weird if you follow it through. Is it politically incorrect to say ‘whip’ because it suggests the stain of slavery or just the abuse of animals?

Technically, the implement is called a quirt.

Share on Facebook

I’ve returned to the dunes nearly every summer that I’ve lived in Los Angeles. It’s a long haul, but it’s awesome to introduce new visitors to the dunes. And the experience holds up in its own right.

The Eureka Valley Sand Dunes are good for a visit any time of day or year, with the caveat that in the winter, the rain may wash out the roads. This is my method…

Go as close as you can to the full moon, preferably in June, July, August or September. Before you go, check out the times of the moon’s rise and set.

From Los Angeles, it takes about four hours to get up to Big Pine. I’ve often gone with big groups; we’ve met at Owens Valley restaurants such as Imperial Palace in Bishop, the Still Life Cafe in Independence, or Rossi’s in Big Pine. A long dinner is nice for a group where people are meeting one another for the first time, and these restaurants all have a lot of local color, but now that I’m older I’m going to abandon the dinner stop in favor of getting out to the dunes earlier.

So — after some kind of snackage, get yourself to the Keough Hot Springs. Heading north of 395, turn left 7 miles north of Big Pine. There’s a road to your right just after the turn; ignore it, and take the second right (map). Park about 50 feet in, and find a pool. Clothing is optional. There’s a facility further up the road, but it’s probably closed by the time you get there. And I’m told the free, open pools are better.

Keep in mind the moon-set time as you relax/digest at the hot springs. The next part of the drive will take you more or less 90 minutes, depending on the quality of the roads.

Head back south on 395 to Hwy 168 and turn left. You’ll see a sign for Deep Springs Valley. After about 2 miles, you’ll see a sign for Death Valley Road — make a slight right turn off of 168.

The next 37 miles you’ll spend on Death Valley Road will not pass quickly. Hairpin turns abound. At Deep Springs, I learned two important rules of desert driving: don’t cut corners you can’t see around, and never swerve to avoid small animals. Rabbits and mice will cross the road suicidally in front of your vehicle. You might kill a few. That’s part of the deal.

After 30 miles on this road, the pavement ends, and you’re on a graded gravel road. If there’s been rain, you could get deep ridges, big rocks, or washouts. Take them carefully.

After 7 miles of dirt road, the pavement returns. About 150 feet later is the right turn onto Eureka Road. Then you’ve got 10 more miles of dirt, and finally, you’ll arrive at a simple campsite. Park…

…and strip! I like to leave a pair of flip-flops on until I’ve climbed the dunes past the scrub. If it’s cold, I might keep my clothes on for the first 100 yards or so. Then leave your shoes or clothes in a pile that you’ll be able to find later. If you’re worried about the moon setting, leave a flashlight sticking out of the sand.

The dunes rise 600 feet off the valley floor, almost the largest in North America. (Colorado’s Great Sand Dunes rise 750 feet.)  The next part is going to kick your ass. Find the ridge and walk up, up, up the dunes. It may be tempting to start sliding around as soon as you hear the hum (more on that later). But it’s worth getting some elevation.

The dunes tend to form a kind of L-shape — it changes all the time — so you’ll walk up and over to the right. Once you’ve found a nice steep slope, space out your group. Take a moment to listen to the voice of the desert, and then plunge down, everyone at once.

Your object is not speed but volume of sand moved. So swim down the dunes, wave your arms, make yourself a human sand blender. As you all tumble together, the sand you move will move against the sand beneath it. And you’ll hear the hum. It’s not like anything else.

You’ll also understand, if you were hesitant at first, why you’re best off naked. The sand is very soft (and the moonlight is forgiving). Clothes won’t keep it out, and will only trap it to irritate you. And it’s a very comfortable, supportive medium. For the sake of modesty or athletic support, dress as you need. But naked is the way to go.

After your run, clamber up — all fours works best — and do it again. And again, and again. It’s hard to slide all the way down and walk back around the base, because the scrub is murder on your feet. It’s worth it to keep climbing back to the ridge you walked up on and follow that back down.

There are two ways to camp for the night. The softest bed is back on the dunes; haul your blankets or bags back up there. If you want to sleep less comfortably but longer, camp in the shade of your vehicle. Standing in the campsite, facing the dunes, the sun rises on your left.

Returning to Big Pine in the morning, the Country Kitchen is always satisfying.

Dunescape 6 by Antelope Balloo on Flickr

My first year up from Los Angeles, I blew out a tire on a Nissan Sentra and went to pains to take a more rugged vehicle. This year we went in HJ’s Corolla and we were fine (though a Jeep did blow a tire). Check your tread; high clearance is preferable but not necessary (and a high car offers more shade in the morning).

Also, you’ll want to have plenty of water. I also like to pick up an energy drink and some Gatorade at the Mobil station in Big Pine before heading in.
View Larger Map

Share on Facebook