Day Five (08.27.09) Of all the places we visited, Salvation Mountain was the one that made me realize I was never going to forget this road trip. Much like the Salton Sea in general, this man-made mountain of paint is so incredibly different and unique, it's almost dream-like when you find yourself practically alone in a setting like this. Created by Leonard Knight, I first came to know of Salvation Mountain from the movie Into the Wild. There's a scene where Emile Hirsch's character is given a tour by Knight and I was captivated. I never really pictured myself getting there necessarily, but it's funny how those plans came together - how my interest in Indio lead to the Salton Sea which lead to Salvation Mountain.
Another interesting fact about this site is that it's built on government land and for years had been threatened with removal. Until 2002 when senator Barbara Boxer took interest and helped Salvation Mountain gain special designation as a national treasure - an honour held by only one other landmark, Mount Rushmore. The coincidence in this is that the last major road trip I went on before this one was to Mount Rushmore - you can see the edits here. Dave and I took full advantage of the experience. When we arrived Leonard was giving a tour to a group of girls, and we all met up as he told us we could walk the yellow path up to the top of the mountain if we wanted to. Naturally we said yes, we had no idea he'd let us walk on his art, but when considering how hands-on the construction must've been there's really no better way to experience it.
We walked the winding path, marveling at the intricate details (like the litte coloured flowers) and were rewarded with a spectacular view at the top. The setting sun gave the desert a rich golden hue, and the colours of Salvation Mountain only looked further saturated by the contrasting monochromatic landscape that surrounded it. There were miles of desert, hills, and small glimpses of civilization. None more present than Slab City - a community of nomads, off the grid. But ultimately, it was quiet and refreshingly secluded. A scene that almost forces you to be alone with your thoughts; comfortably at peace.
While the messaging (God is Love, etc.) is strong, and the display eccentric, there was nothing scary about Leonard himself. If there was one word I'd choose to describe him it's passionate. He really just wanted to make his mark, to express love, and devote his life to a higher purpose - whether religious or not you have to value his commitment and vision to make a positive impact. After we came down from the mountain and had our private look around, we approached Leonard to talk (see the next video). I'm still pinching myself that several thousand kilometers from home we found ourselves talking casually, face to face, with the man who built this hidden treasure in the middle of nowhere.
Had I been more on the ball I would've thought about getting this clip together before the Olympics. Instead, it took creating a new videography page to realize that there was probably more footage from my Alaska: Edits that I could showcase. I'm sure releasing my Indio Outio edits also influenced my focus on creating a few more travel clips this month too.
In my books, 1998 is a world away. I was just in my early teens, barely out of puberty, and still learning how to use my first video camera. The cruise I took to Alaska with my family was something that I probably appreciate more now than I did in the moment, which isn't saying I didn't have fun, I just didn't realize how unique the experience actually was.
The journey began in Vancouver. Still, the memory that sticks with me most was leaving the harbor and getting to see all of downtown and North Vancouver from the ship. There was just so much going on - boats, planes, people, etc. It's also a big deal to me that the photo of me shooting video standing on the deck (click over to the Alaska: Edits to see it) is still one of my fav pics, and the first picture of me ever in filmmaker mode with one of my cameras - as you can imagine countless others have now followed.
I would say there's a good chance of more of this old footage popping up as I get a chance to go through it again. At this point, so much has changed in the time that's passed, I feel lucky to even have this stuff to share. What a cool way to rediscover your own history.
Day Five (08.27.09) I first heard about the Salton Sea and the crazy history surrounding it on a Discovery Channel show in the months when the trip was still just a raw idea. The show mentioned Palm Springs and having familiarized myself with the geography, I quickly learned that Indio was a few short miles from the Salton Sea. If you've never heard of it before you may be thinking that the Salton Sea is just a giant lake in the desert. In reality, it's a remarkable (if not haunting) story about an accidental man-made lake that in the 1950's seemed to be on the verge of becoming California's riviera. Resorts, marinas, and residential development sprung up all around the lake - things seemed to be booming. What followed over the course of several decades was a continued increase in salt levels of the sea due to no fresh water access. This resulted in massive fish and bird deaths (in the millions) only worsened by the impact of the sea being contaminated by agricultural run-off. The shift started to impact the 'glamour' of the locale as the area gained a unique smell. Several floods also delivered crippling blows, and by the mid-80's much of the 'dream' of what the Salton Sea was intended to be was now in ruin.
It was the story and history that really attracted me. To get more of a sense of the impact check out these two great videos. The first is the Discovery Channel clip from No Reservations that initially educated me on the Salton Sea, and the second clip is an original promo for the North Shore Yacht Club - just in the early stages of restoration when we visited - but a site that had been sitting abandoned for well over a decade.
Standing on the edge of the sea, the heat was sweltering. Easily reaching 40 degrees celsius, the humidity in the air just stuck to your skin. It was still a beautiful setting, perhaps more so because of my understanding of what this place had once been. I tried to picture a marina full of boats, people water skiing, people coming and going from the yacht club - and here we were now all alone in the desert, that reality a distant past. An abandoned motel had actually stood right next to the yacht club and was just demolished at the end of 2008. The scene was a photographers dream, and I was disappointed when I realized it wouldn't be there - Google Earth was still showing the motel standing.
Dave and I headed further south, down the shore to Bombay Beach. Talk about post-apocalyptic. The flood zone is now a scene of rotting buildings and scattered possessions. An old trailer, an Airstream now without it's metal casing, is said to be the most photographed Airstream in the world - I followed suit. If you look it up online you can actually see the trailer over the years, including when the flood zone actually still had water in it.
All around us was proof that so much had just been given up. Whether it was residents leaving after the floods, the death of the local tourism, or the environmental toll that was making the area a write-off, it all seemed so sad and wonderfully fascinating. It seems an unfortunate upside, but the decline has actually created a novelty and experience that many travel to see and photograph first hand - just like Dave and I did. It really is a place like no other; a series of stories and plans gone wrong all linked around this suffering body of water. We continued our journey south, passing signs hinting at the approaching Mexican border, hoping to find enlightenment at Salvation Mountain.
