The scene is classic cowboy country. You can almost hear the wind parching your skin. The trail is rocky, the vegetation sparse. A lone golden eagle circles in the cloudless sky. Only one thing wrong, pardner: what in heck are them there palm trees doing in the distance? An oasis? Huh? With no camels or sand dunes?
A trip to the Joshua Tree National Park, in California, is an exercise in surrealism. The park covers the junction of two deserts, the low-level Colorado and higher-altitude Mojave, each with a unique ecosystem, and protects
an area 40 times the size of Hong Kong Island. The incongruous Fortynine Palms Oasis - the end of our first short hike in the park - is not the work of some misguided movie maker but a geological fault that allows water to rise to the desert's surface.
'J-tree' receives as much rain in a year as Hong Kong averages in two weeks, but sustains myriad weird and wonderful desert plants. Chief among them are the Joshua trees, crooked-armed creations that look like something dreamed up by Dr Seuss, particularly when they flower, which happens in spring. The tree - a member of the lily family - is said to have been named by Mormon pioneers who thought the branches resembled the prophet Joshua beckoning them westwards.
Joshua trees are a big drawcard these days but, historically, they were once less popular. Nineteenth-century explorer John Fremont complained their 'stiff and ungraceful forms make them the most repulsive trees in the vegetable kingdom'. Cactuses also abound, their spikes primarily designed to discourage animals from grazing on them ... although park pamphlets warn hikers against the soft-looking 'jumping teddy bear' or 'jumping cholla', a cactus with spines that drive deep into the flesh.
In summer, the park bakes. But in spring, temperatures can be low enough for hikers to require warm clothing, even when trekking uphill. Another advantage of not visiting in summer is that the rattlesnakes are hibernating, according to a horrifically fascinating book about the creatures thoughtfully provided in our rented cabin near Joshua Tree Village.
More literature describes the heart-rending tale of the desert tarantula, which is not poisonous to humans but instead deserves our sympathy. For starters, the tarantula is prey to the tarantula hawk, a large wasp that disables the spider, incarcerates the creature and lays eggs inside it. On hatching, the wasp larvae eat the tarantula alive. Male tarantulas are also, famously, eaten by the females after mating, providing the mother-to-be with nutrition. Less scary species in the park include jackrabbits, kangaroo rats, stinkbugs, coyotes, lizards, bighorn sheep and 240 types of bird, including the roadrunner of cartoon fame and a type of wren that eats its own excrement.
