Rand Mountains 2012-2013

Hitch 7 started out not with a bang, but instead, an extra night sleeping in our beds (which is equivalent to a cot for an SCA member). After the pre-hitch day ended, we spent that night in town so we could pick our CSA (no relation) farm box. The next morning we finished the last leftover tasks from pre-hitch day, packed up, picked up the CSA order and headed out to our campsite. During the four hour drive, we took a few wrong turns. Unfortunately, one of those wrong turns could not be corrected by a simple ‘spotter otter’. The path was too narrow and dangerous for the truck with the trailer to back up and turn around. After a failed attempt at going straight back, we knew that there was only one solution – to get girdled. We unhitched the trailer, pulled the truck around to the other side of said trailer and then got our girdling pants on (which happened to be exactly the same as our work pants we were already wearing). We deadlifted the trailer and pivoted it on the left tire. Once the trailer was back on the truck we set out to finally meet up with our fellow crews. Even after a difficult day with several tiring tasks, we still found time to socialize with the other crews.

The first full day with the other crews was spent relaxing, conversing and enjoying two amazing places. After a morning of chewing the fat, we came out of camp “rolling deep” as the kids would say in a convoy of eight SCA trucks. The first stop of the day was comparable to the aunt who always gave you socks at Christmas. At least that is what I was expecting, until I saw the dunes in person. Then I realized that Aunt Mary hit the lotto and bought me a flat screen. The dunes were absolutely gorgeous. Their size alone was mesmerizing to a mere 5’6 man like me. Thinking back to that day, it may not have been the size or beauty of the dunes but the strong feeling of community. We all felt like one giant family on the beach (minus the water and crabs of course). Later in the day, we washed the sand off in the local luxurious hot springs.

The first day of trail work on the China Ranch Date Farm was most definitely a refreshing experience for everyone. We mixed the crews together into different groups, enjoyed the leadership of a lovely BLM member and got to work in a truly astonishing atmosphere. My group spent the first day clearing a path for a new trail so a 200+ year old house could be preserved. Our BLM leader Rose told us the history of the house, which sparked a connection with the work that day. We also did some maintenance work with some other trails, but the work near the amazing artifact of a home was my favorite part of the day.

As the next few days passed by, we constructed rock stairs, built bridges, touched up old trails, carved out a new trail, and redirected the water flow of a creek. On our last day of work, the owner of the Ranch treated every SCA member to a free date shake and the BLM member presented their sugar-covered thank you as well with cake and candy. The free date shake was delicious (and it was the 5th one that I had the pleasure of consuming since my time on the ranch). During the last night at our campsite, we were presented with the option of going back to the hot springs or gong to a local heated pool. I chose the pool, but both groups had a wonderful time relaxing that final night. The next day was spent taking a serene drive through Death Valley. We saw Badwater, the lowest point in the continental United States, during the drive. While we were not able to hike through or camp in Death Valley, driving through it still unveiled much of its majesty.

With four days left in our hitch, we faced the daunting task of outreach. Outreach wasn’t discouraging due to some fear of speaking to the public or anything along those lines. It was the sitting. Siting in a chair for a multitude of hours is more tiring than an entire day of restoration work. However we made it through those two butt-cramping days and in the process handed out 269 permits and spoke to 378 members of the OHV community.
The second-to-last day of this hitch was my favorite. We drove out to Sage Canyon, where I did my Environmental Education presentation about meditation. After changing into a very comfortable gi I spoke about the history, benefits and techniques of meditation. I then led my crew in meditation and asked everyone to address something that has been bothering them. Luckily the meditation went well as everyone felt at peace. Bridget couldn’t help but smile for a short period after the session. The next few hours were spent relaxing and further developing one’s sense of self awareness. We finished off the day with our post hitch meeting.
It seems as if we can go nowhere but up as a crew at this point. Sure, we have hit the occasional snafu, but that is expected. And the fact that we can surmount those problems just shows how strong we have become as a crew. The actor Michael J. Fox once said “Family is not an important thing. It’s everything.” And nowhere does that hold more true than in the family that I call my crew.

-By David Patrick Selllari

With a panoramic view of break before our eyes we fluttered our feathers and flocked from our humble Ridgecrest abode-that, infrequently inhabited, still fails to feel like home. Without wings we took flight in cars along California highways and in planes pushing eastward.

The holiday break overwhelmed our senses. With sounds of San Francisco, brackish sea breezes, flashing faces of families and friends, we hustled and bustled. We were fueled by caffeine. We relished in the chance to push the snooze-once, twice, wait…for what reason did we even set these ticking, tiresome alarms? We found ourselves surrounded again by the electronic buzz and abundant amenities that demarcate the differences in our desert and domicile lives.

And before we had the chance to consider what really constitutes a period of revitalizing rest, we found ourselves bouncing along the barren roads that would bring us back to our quiet camp nestled at the base of Fremont Peak.

If given the choice, perhaps we would have preferred to stay where comfort is constructed and the familiar has a human face or at least lies at our feet. Maybe we would have waved a wayward farewell to the dust clouds and creosote stands. Perhaps we would have considered spending the year of the snake in a place where the slithering creatures reside in tanks. Given no other option, and committed to at least another twelve days, however, we did the only thing we could: we dutifully returned to the desert.
Hitch five consisted of our longest stretch of uninterrupted restoration work. Compounded by the fact that on any given day at least one of our crew members was struck down by the flu, the risk was run that exhaustion, stress, relative monotony, and the coldest nights encountered thus far, would erode our community carefully constructed on communication and cheer. When met with such adversity, however, we vivaciously responded with a collective spirit that could not be corroded. Whether taking on extra chores, combating encroaching negativity with a joke, or checking in with those under the weather a sense of solidarity and pro-sociality could be felt over the frigid nights in the field and fevered chills in town. While the pace of our restoration efforts was slowed, our commitment to creating a presence of conservation was still physically manifested.

Watching the sun set, I watched the shadows of creosote bushes and a distant Joshua tree fall. For a moment, I felt at odds with an environment where only the hardiest and best-adapted survive. Despite our inability to absorb the few centimeters of rain that fall on this cracked earth, however, I considered that perhaps we have begun to strike a balance in this harsh ecosystem. Chilled and almost completely enveloped in the subtle, natural movements we humans identify as silence, I was pulled back into the glowing white wall by the soft rise of laughter and the promise of artificial warmth.

Until next time,
-The Rands Crew

By: Bridget Tevnan

Just as the Rands crew was getting used to the ups and downs of a normal work hitch, our post-
Thanksgiving schedule up and turned the whole durned thang inside out. For those who prefer brevity, here's a summary: We handed out permits, we monitored a fenceline, we cut things with chainsaws, we played hosts, and we even got some rain (or was that just extreme condensation?)!

The crew began the hitch on what the rest of America knows as Black Friday, and like much of America, we woke up with full bellies from the previous evening's Thanksgiving festivities (in our case, this included the most local and organic turkey EVER, which even our crew vegetarian bravely sampled). Instead of heading out to contribute to the economy, though, we met up with several hardy folks from the Ridgecrest BLM, who cut their vacations short to devote their energy to the busiest weekend of the year of Off-Highway-Vehicle riding. On both Friday and Saturday, the crew split into three groups and each group joined a BLM member in three different locations in and around the Rands. Our task: distribute free permits and maps to people looking to ride in the area, with the goal of raising awareness about the importance of staying on maintained routes.

Thanksgiving weekend certainly lived up to the hype we had been hearing about since our arrival in September. The tiny “living ghost town” of Randsburg filled like Disneyland on Christmas with riders of all ages on dirtbikes and quads. Amid clouds of exhaust and dust, riders dismounted their vehicles to meander into the General Store for a milkshake, into the art gallery for a postcard, into an antiques shop for who-knows-what, or into the White House Saloon for what I can only assume was a presidential pick-me-up. Outreach provided the crew with an opportunity to sink our teeth into a whole new aspect of land management: public interaction. The experience was predominantly positive, occasionally entertaining, and undoubtedly eye-opening. At the conclusion of our two days of outreach, we talked to over 1,000 members of the public, and the crew felt we had gained a broader perspective into the minds of OHV community members.

Following a sluggish Sunday of fence monitoring that left us all thankful to be a restoration crew, we began our much-hyped training session: S212 Chainsaw! We endured a day and a half of classroom instruction in order to get to the good stuff-- hearing the growl of the engine and the whir of the chain, seeing sawdust fly, and feeling the satisfaction of making a really good cut and sending our “trees” toppling (safely) to the ground. It was a personal victory to overcome my fear of the tool, and a collective triumph to emerge from the three-day training as a Chainsaw Certified Crew.
The collage-like nature of this hitch received some added color from our friendly neighborhood wilderness crew: Grass Valley. They joined us for dinner one night, then for the three days of chainsaw training, and then got to be our guests for two work days (see below)!

Everyone expressed excitement to be able to head back into the field for the final half of the hitch. We were all looking forward to our new campsite, a new polygon in a more interesting area, and a fresh new set of incursions to tackle in a short time. We packed our whitewall, our coolers, our rummy cards, our poetry books, our cameras, and our Nutella and headed out for six days back home in the Rands.

The field didn't disappoint, and the desert even held a few secrets for us during this short time out. We woke up each morning to dewdrops glistening on our tents. One morning was even sheathed in thick fog, so that the joshua trees emerged like mystical creatures from the hazy ground, and the sun's rays diffused into a golden orb that dangled above Fremont peak during breakfast. During the day, the clouds kept the temperature cool and the horizon interesting, and sunrises and sunsets were a sight to behold every day.

We had four days to accomplish a chunk of our self-created work plan, and for two of those days we doubled our numbers. The Grass Valley crew helped us patch up a number of incursions, and brought a new and amiable dynamic to our work environment. Hopefully they enjoyed their time in the Rands, as we certainly got a lot out of being hosts in an area we now consider home. Program Coordinator Matt also joined us in the field, and we enjoyed hosting him and learning from him, whether it was whilst constructing a check dam or playing rummy back at camp.

It was fitting to end such a hodgepodge hitch back in the prettiest part of our little corner of the Mojave, and though diversity in the schedule is never a bad thing, I at least felt a rush of gratitude each night in the field as I looked up at the sky. What a great place to live, what a great place to share laughter, food, ideas, and a blossoming sense of contentment and fulfillment at having landed here in this little pocket of the desert.

By Irene Gilchriese

Howdy, and welcome to the Rands! Whew, two months have swept by as quickly as the desert breeze. We have a lot of catching up to do. The Rands crew shared these past months in the desert, a place quite alien to most of us, training for this year’s work and learning how to live in the desert. We have finally incorporated our sixth member into the crew bringing both new personality and a refreshed identity to this small community we have all thrust ourselves into quite head-on.

There is much to consider for what to think about the desert. A favorite quote I recently came across goes a little something like this:
This is the desert
There’s nothing out here
Nothing.
N. Karavasiles

Certainly the desert does upon initial survey appear to be a rugged, vast expanse as far as the eye can glean. Coming from the East Coast and growing up in the woods, it is admittedly an altogether different “wilderness” experience. The desert does ooze the majesty, the wisdom, and the palpable passing of days in the seasons. The desert is discreet, it remembers a history much too long to recount but shows no sign of age or time. The desert has a rough edge, drawing in and catching some unprepared for its needles, sun, wind. The desert, if given enough time, can evoke an other-worldly enchantment.

The patch of desert we call home in the Rand Mountain Management Area has a very different story than other groups in the DRC. According to Roberta Starry’s “Exploring the Ghost Town Desert: A Guide to the Rand Mining Area, its Natural and Historic Points of Interest” the Rands was the veritable pot of gold at the end of the rainbow and the site of substantial precious metal and mineral extraction. However, like most natural resource extraction sagas; the frenzy waned, the wagon was packed, and people moved on leaving behind the house, mine and all, to be reclaimed and consumed by the desert. Our first hitch placed us at ground zero, and the effect of such extensive mining was visceral with abandoned mines dotting the landscape and relics of the food cans scattered nearby. With arsenic in the soil and considerable bulldozing and digging crisscrossing the desert, vegetation was brown and the ground scarred with mine reclamation and restoration. Nevertheless, the Rands had quite a surprise for us on this hitch – the sighting of four Desert Tortoise hatchlings right in the midst of our first work-plan polygon.

After fearlessly tackling several small incursions the crew was finally tested with a four-hundred meter incursion cutting clear across the desert, a shortcut to somewhere for OHV riders. The length tested the resolve, the muscle, and the eyes to continually come back and stare down a formidable restoration project. Sure enough, Rands completed planned projects for the first hitch and worked well into the second and third hitch, successfully tackling seven incursions for our first stint at desert restoration.

In what appears to be an evolving theme among group conversations and meetings, food is at the forefront of the crews mind. When, how, what we eat – “How good does _____ sound right now?”- cue “Oooo (mouthwatering)”. Nonetheless, there is a shared passion for food which makes meal time a congenial experience, gathering in the cooking tent taking shelter from the ever-chilling temperatures.

By Noah Creany

Whenever someone asks me the question "Where are you from?", I like to point to my Ford Windstar parked outside. Though I am a native of Ohio; for the past five years, my life has been mostly lived on the road, traveling from one project to another. Upon graduating from Ohio Wesleyan University in 2007 with a degree in History, I found myself asking the same question that I asked when I started college, 'what do I want to do with my life, now?'

To begin to answer that question, I joined up as a Corps Member with AmeriCorps NCCC in Sacramento, CA. After two years of building houses and playgrounds in New Orleans, coordinating logistics in Mississippi, and fuels mitigation work in South Dakota and California, I found my answer in national service and conservation.

I first got involved with SCA as a Project Leader in 2010 on the Angeles National Forest (http://www.thesca.org/angelesnf), leading a crew dedicated to helping the forest recover from the Station Fire of 2009. Since then, I bounced around to work on a variety of other projects, such as building mountain bike trails in Utah, restoring desert wilderness areas in Needles, California, leading college spring breakers in central Florida, and chainsaw work on OHV trails for the Rio Grande National Forest in Colorado.

In fall of 2011, I took a break from the nomadic life and settled down in Durango, CO serving as an AmeriCorps VISTA for Southwest Conservation Corps, supporting their grant writing, marketing, and youth programming projects. For a time, I thought I would never pick up a pick maddock again, and that I had become desk jockey for good. One phone call changed all of that. After I got a call from SCA offering me a chance to be a part of the Desert Restoration Corps, I packed up my van again and hit the road for Ridgecrest, CA.

The thing that I love about programs like these is; that you can take six strangers from across the country, pack them up in a truck and head off into the desert for twelve days (without a shower), and put them to work on a project they have no experience doing; and they will not only excel at the project, learn how to live with each other, but also make an real impact in the community they serve.

Its going to be a blast.

I remember learning about plant metabolism in freshman biology and thinking that I likened my personality to the adaptations of a CAM plant. In much the same way that these plants use specialized carbon fixation to maximize the amount of time their stomata are closed during the hottest part of the day, I think that similarly I can adapt to the environmental and social challenges that I encounter. Through open mindedness and positivity I always seek to gain the most out of a demanding situation. Raised in New Hampshire, my passion for environmental preservation and outdoor recreation has long been a large part of my life. As a rising junior at Trinity College in Hartford, CT, majoring in Environmental Science and Anthropology, I’m thrilled to be taking a year off to quench my thirst for environmental and civic engagement in a novel environment!

Being unsure of what direction to take with regard to my studies in college, I immersed myself in a wide variety of classes. Upon taking my first Introductory Political Science class, I knew that I had stumbled upon something I could sink my teeth into. At the end of that semester I decided to declare a major in Political Science. The following semester I was introduced to the challenges surrounding environmental policy, energy, and sustainable development. This very quickly became an area of special interest and over the next few years I took as many classes pertaining to environmental issues as my degree would allow. I began to work with my academic advisor on extracurricular projects building towers and recording wind data for small scale wind turbines for various sites across southern New Jersey. Additionally, I became a skilled backpacker and undertook a Wilderness Survival Skills course to develop my back-country knowledge further. I was also able to spend several weeks in Yellowstone National Park during the summer of 2010 meeting with park officials and locals alike to discuss the challenges of managing natural resources. In my studies and extracurricular opportunities I found a deep seeded love for the environment and a devotion to expanding my understanding of modern issues.

As graduation from the college drew closer I began applying for and was introduced to the SCA and the many opportunities for experience they had to offer. I accepted a position with the SCA as a Visitor Use Survey Intern for Parks managed by the Army Corps of Engineers in Northern Georgia for the summer of 2012. During SCA training for this position, I was introduced to the DRC and the opportunities it held. As soon as I returned from training, I put in my application for the Desert Restoration Corps, and in early July I accepted my position into the DRC for the 2012-2013 season. I look forward to the chance to participate in hands on restoration work in the coming season.

Hello, my name is Noah Creany. I grew up in rural Pennsylvania with its mountains, streams, and forests out my back door. I recently graduated from Penn State University with a degree in Community, Environment, and Development and I enjoy traveling- seeing new places and experiencing its people. I am looking forward to getting acquainted with Southern California and am excited to meet the other SCA’ers who I will be sharing the wild Mojave Desert with.