Disc Golf?

So I'm not so sure I'm proud of it, but it seems that I enjoy the pastime of disc golf. What is that, you ask? Well, pretty much as it sounds - its just like golf, but instead of using a club and ball, you just throw frisbees. Those "in the know" call them discs. Instead of holes they have "baskets" which slightly resemble basketball nets but their closer to the ground. Whatever.

You see, just before I left Redlands, the city put a small course in one of the local parks, and some friends and I got to playing fairly regularly. Now there is no chance that I will ever categorize this hobby as a sport, but it is something fun to do when you have some time and would like to take a lazy walk around a park.

Anyway, it just so happened that my first day in Milwaukee fell right in the middle of the Amateur Disc Golf World Championship that was taking place here in town. Wanting to take a break from unpacking and getting settled, I headed over to the local park that played host to this contest - which was just a short walk away. The following is a quick rundown of what I observed:

• I didn't see one person without some sort of portable collapsable chair. And they sure used them. It occured to me that real golfers walk 18 without a chair, and it takes at least twice as long to do that.

• Everyone had one of those big bags with more discs than I'd ever seen before. At least 20-25 discs per person. The bags even had backpack straps on them, to lessen the strain on their throwing arms, I suppose. Oh, and one guy had a baby jogger with all his gear in it, I guess he didn't want to strain his back.

• I saw one guy actually make his drive with his right hand while holding a cigarette in his left. I'm pretty sure I saw him take a drag, throw the disc, and then blow it out. Keep in mind this is the WORLD championships. Sheesh.

• There was a kid who took about 30 seconds eyeing up his drive, shuffled across the tee, and then proceeded to hold on to the disc way too long and threw it exactly 90 degrees away from the direction he intended. I let out a snort as I tried to refrain from laughing, hopefully he didn't hear me.

That being said, it was a very nice park and a neatly kept course, and everyone seemed to be enjoying themselves. Most were far more intense than I'll ever be when carrying fris...er...uh...discs, but for a relaxing afternoon or a cool down after a ride or run, disc golf might be just what the doctor ordered.

Salvation Mountain

About a week or two ago I stumbled upon a documentary on TV about the Salton Sea. I had heard of it before in passing, its in the desert out past Palm Springs and apparently has some ecological significance that some of our Envirmental Studies classes have interest in studying. Through this documentary, I learned that it has a colorful history which began when it was formed by accident from water escaping from faulty dams on the Colorado River and continues to be sustained by runoff from the many farms in the area. Not to get too much into it (google Salton Sea if you want to know more), but the newly formed lake is the largest in California, and due to the fact that it is below sea level, it acts as a "sink" since there is no outlet for the water draining off the farms. The land the water came to rest on was already very salty, and since the only way water gets out is through evaporation, it coninues to increase in salinity. Now it is very much like the Great Salt Lake, things float very well in the water.

Well, in the 50's and 60's, this area became a very popular vacation destination due fishing and water sports. State parks were formed, ammenities like restaurants and hotels went up, many plans for future development were put in place, and people were having a great time. However, at some point things went terribly wrong. It doesn't seem that anyone knows for sure, but the water got too salty, people dumped too much sewage into it, fish and wildlife started dying, and people may or may not have gotten sick from being associated with the water. As such, this once booming tourist attraction died about as fast as it was created, leaving a virtual ghost town of delapidated infrastructure and ecclectic people. There have been several attempts to reclaim the area - the most notable was lead by Sonny Bono but pretty much died with him - so the people left are either waiting for the next tourism boom or are just happy to be some place that they can be left alone (there is no real reason to even drive through the area, its WAY out in the desert and between nothing). All that is left are several run down, shanty like towns full of people driving golf carts (the closest gas is 20 miles away). Filled with ruins of what once was, it has a very post-apocolyptic and creepy feeling.

This area was also mentioned in the book Into the Wild, and between that and the documentary, I had a strong desire to check it out. It just so happened that Jeff was going out to pick up his dog at his parents place in Palm Desert, so we decided to make a day out of it and see what this place was all about. This is where the adventure begins.

Palm Springs is way out in the desert. Palm Desert is a little past that. After you get through Palm Desert you go through Indio and then Coachella. About 20 miles past Coachella out into the desert is the largest lake in California, the Salton Sea. So we get all the way out there and are driving past and through a few of the little towns I saw in the documentary. None of them had more than maybe 3 or 4 hundred inhabitants and it was just as it was depicted in the movie. Empty run down buildings, a few stray dogs, and maybe a few old, fat, and very tan people sitting in the shade smoking cigarettes. Don't ask me why, but it was fascinating. However, the coolest part was a little more down the road.

One part of the movie chronicled something known as Salvation Mountain (definitely google this one). We went there. It was nothing short of amazing. About three miles into the desert outside of one of these little shanty towns lives a man who has created something almost indescribable - but I'll do my best. Basically, it is a 50+ foot hill/adobe/garbage structure that a man named Leonard has been working on all by himself for the last 30 years. With materials he finds out in the desert, and hundreds of thousands of gallons of acryllic paint, he has made a giant "thing" he uses to spread his universal message of God is love. The main portion is on the hill, which is covered in every imaginable color of paint. Waterfalls, rainbows, flowers, birds, suns, waves, boats, bible verses, random designs, and words of wisdom cover every square inch of this hill. Attached to this are manmade caves of old tires, tree branches, and hay bales that he has either found or has had donated to him, all held together by the adobe clay from the surrounding area. In these caves he's embedded old car windows, photos, newspaper clippings, and an assortment of other trinkets and things...its one of those deals where the closer you look the more you find and you could spend an entire week discovering new things. Awesome.

For about 10 minutes, we were the only ones there. But to our great suprise, it would turn out, as we were about to get back in the car, we saw this little white station wagon rumbling down the dirt road to the mountain. Out of it jumped this frail looking old man with leather skin and silver hair. It was Leonard! And boy, was he happy to see us. He greeted us with a big friendly hello and enthusiastically said "if you've got a few minutes, I'd love to give you a tour". We happily obliged. From here we spent the next half our in the 110 degree sun with what might be the most interesting person I have ever met in my life.

At 76 years old and no more than 120 pounds, this little man in the desert was beside himself with excitement telling us the story of him and the mountain. He told us that 30 years ago he was driving through the desert with a hot air balloon that said "God is love" on it. Something happened to the balloon, and to replace it, he said he'd spend a week inscribing the same message on this particular hill. Well, 30 years later, he's still there, and he's still working on the mountain with the enthusiasm of an 8 year old on Christmas morning. Every few minutes, he'd apologize for going on so long and offer to tell us more if we had time. Luckily we did. He told us about his message of love and that it was all about you and God and the bible, and that religion and churches had nothing to do with it (but if you were in to that sort of thing "Just love the church down the street, too, and you'll be fine." according to Leonard). He was almost in tears with excitement of having the opportunity to tell us to love everyone and love God, and that God loves us and everything he's ever created. It might seem like the passion came from the fact that someone actually took the time to talk to him, but in the winter, he regularly gets over 100 visitors a day, and we were the second group through today at around 1:00 in the afternoon. Somehow, believe it or not, he managed to come off without seeming one bit crazy or psychotic. Not even preachy or pushy. Just a guy with a message who wanted to spread it in a way that nobody had ever thought to do before. Oh, and he lives in the same place he did when he first arrived - at the base of the hill in the truck he drove in on all that time ago, and from what I can tell, has no legal claim to the property whatsoever.

There have been books and movies about him, and he has art in various museums around the country. He's somewhat of a cult hero, and rightfully so. If I ever get back to Southern California, you can bet a visit to Leonard and Salvation Mountain will be on my itinerary.

So that's what we did today.