When I was a teenager, and I got in trouble for smoking cigarettes at the mall, my mom grounded me. I remember curling up like a little shell on my bed, sobbing, as my mom gave me a stern lecture about the dangers of tobacco.
Suddenly, a sly look flashed across her face as she said, “But what kind of cigarettes were they? … I used to smoke Camels.”
Mine were Winston Ultra Lights, but that’s beside the point.
The point is that this story summarizes my mom. She knew the rules, and she played by them. But there was also a wild streak that she rarely indulged, a cheeky side that I only saw in bursts and flickers.
Today is the 12th anniversary of her death, and for some reason it’s hitting me hard this year.
I often wonder if she had known how it would end, would she have lived her life differently? I don’t mean smoking cigarettes or even tearing through a to-do list à la Queen Latifah in “Last Holiday.” But something in between. How would she have inhabited her days?
I think about how my mom occasionally took the long route home from church, the country road that meandered past a farm with peacocks, simply because she wanted to catch a glimpse of the colors. Perhaps she would have taken the scenic route more often. Maybe it would’ve been all scenic routes.
I remember how she denied herself pleasure simply to keep up appearances or to fit into a specific pair of pants or to follow someone else’s playbook, and none of that matters anymore. It never mattered.
Maybe today, in honor of my mom’s passing, you could indulge yourself. Eat a pastry you’ve never tried before. Play a new sport. Take the long road. Sing out loud. Wear something sparkly. Devour a mango and let it be juicy. Love something fiercely.
“We’re nothing but brief bodies,” writes poet Joy Sullivan, which is true, and we deserve to lead scrumptious lives. Do something wonderful and succulent today.
This year I set a goal of taking 52 different hikes with my family. You can read Part 1 here, which is about our 11 hikes in January.
That brings us to February, one of the best hiking months in Palm Springs. It’s post-holidays, so the trails aren’t crawling with people, and it’s pre-summer, so the trails aren’t crawling with rattlesnakes. Perfection!
Here are the 8 hikes we did this month.
Keep in mind: • These hikes are family-friendly, meaning they were good for my family. They are not necessarily stroller accessible or toddler-friendly. • I’m strategic about when and where I hike. Some popular trails get heavy traffic throughout the day, and I don’t feel comfortable on narrow paths with people who might not be wearing masks. So I go early or late. • Don’t take my distance as gospel. Hiking with a 6-year-old child involves a fair amount of wandering, so your mileage might vary. • Do check check a website like AllTrails for current trail conditions. I always look the map to get an idea of the terrain, and I read the most recent comments for any relevant info. • Please wear a mask when you encounter others on the trail.
North Lykken to Falls View, Palm Springs • 6 miles
We accessed this via the trailhead on Cielo Road, which is located in my favorite Palm Springs neighborhood. From here the journey appears so charming and not at all like the brutal killer it is.
I kid. Kind of.
After a quick but steep climb, the trail leads you through Chino Canyon, which is an isolated and tranquil part of Palm Springs. It’s particularly dreamy when wildflowers are in bloom and the whole canyon looks like a screensaver.
Okay, here’s the killer part: The hike was pleasant out through the canyon but surprisingly strenuous on the return. I partially attribute this to a lack of snacks and an unseasonably warm February day, but wow. Just watch out for that. We should have turned back long before I turned into a hangry goblin.
Lake Calavera Loop, Oceanside • 4.3 miles
We spent Presidents’ Day weekend in a remote yurt, which was wonderful and gave us new places to explore.
I really loved this trail system because it was a great mix of well-maintained, easy trails and wilderness with rock scrambling and overgrown parts. Also you can’t beat the excellent view from the top.
However, so few people were wearing masks that I wondered if Oceanside had defeated the virus and didn’t tell anyone.
The trail had heavy traffic at the beginning and end, but we were able to maintain good distance on offshoot trails in between.
Los Jilgueros Loop, Fallbrook • 1.2 miles
A quick loop around a sweet nature preserve. It seemed to be a popular place for birders.
Roadrunner/Chuckwalla Loop, Rancho Mirage • 3.1 miles
A picturesque trail system that ambles through the mountains around the Ritz Carlton — a five-star view for free!
Aside: We didn’t make that rock heart that you see in the photo, because I teach Everest to leave only footprints. But he was happy to stumble upon it!
Araby Trail, Palm Springs • 3 miles
This trail takes you past the Bob Hope home, a mushroomy modernist masterpiece, and into the hills beyond the residence. It’s so fun, especially in the spring when the hills are lush and verdant. Also it holds some surprises. I won’t spoil them for you.
Continue toward Berns Trail Lookout for a longer loop, which we did not do.
North Lykken Loop, Palm Springs • 1.4 miles
There are a lot of ways to access the Lykken in Palm Springs. For this hike, we used the trailhead on Ramon Road, and it was an entirely different experience than the North Lykken loop we hiked earlier in the month.
My son had such a great time here, because there were dozens of offshoot trails to explore, outcroppings to climb, and plenty of adventures to be had. Plus there are spectacular views of downtown Palm Springs throughout. We didn’t cover much distance, but we spent a few hours having the best time.
We could have continued this hike north, where it meets up with the Museum Trail. Instead we followed the map on AllTrails to make this a true loop, ascending via the steep dirt trail and returning on the stone “road.”
South Lykken, Palm Springs • 3.6 miles
I personally refer to this as Middle Lykken, because there’s another South Lykken trailhead at Oswit Canyon.
This is my very favorite trail in Palm Springs, because it’s both challenging but rewarding, and it’s always spectacular. Over the past few years, it’s rare to hike here and not see bighorn sheep, although you might have to keep your eyes peeled. (Other times, they walk right across the trail!)
Note: There’s no parking at the trailhead, so park on Mesquite close to Palm Canyon, near the Happy Traveler RV Park, and walk up the street until it dead-ends at the mountain.
Pushawalla Palms Loop, Coachella Valley Preserve • 4.6 miles
This trail is like traveling through an actual metaphor — you have to trudge through the desert to get to an oasis.
Multiple oases, to be accurate.
Follow a slender ridge along the top of a bluff before descending to the Pushawalla Palms grove on the desert floor. This is a cool oasis with water that has been brought to the surface from the San Andreas Fault.
Along the way back, you’ll pass through another collection of full-skirted palms and see even more water. Here we had a snack, lolled in the shade from the trees, and watched a flock of Gambel’s quail skitter about — a respite from the rest of the world.
I hike a lot, but I tend to stick to the same trails. I’m sure there’s a metaphor there.
So I set a goal to hike 52 different trails this year. Part of that was to force myself out of my comfort zone, but I think it’s also necessary for Covid times. Even though I can’t travel far, I still want to explore, I want to have new experiences, and I need to feel like I’m having an adventure.
It’s important for me to cultivate that for my 6-year-old son as well.
At the same time, we want to be safe and maintain distance from others, which is an additional bonus of 52 different hikes. Although I ticked some popular hikes off my list this month, I think this will push me to find some lesser-known trails and ultimately explore my area without encountering a lot of people.
Here’s how we did in January:
A few things to keep in mind: • These hikes are family-friendly, meaning they were good for my family, but these trails are not necessarily accessible for things like strollers. • I’m strategic about when and where I hike. Some of the popular trails get a heavy amount of traffic throughout the day, and I don’t feel comfortable on narrow paths with people who might not be wearing masks. Those are the trails we hike at dawn. • Don’t take my distance as gospel. Hiking with a 6-year-old child involves a fair amount of wandering, so your mileage might vary. • In each case, I’d recommend checking a site like AllTrails for current trail conditions. I always look the map to get an idea of the terrain, and I read the most recent comments for any pertinent info. • Please wear a mask when you encounter others on the trail.
Bighorn overlook, Rancho Mirage • 1.3 miles
We kicked off the new year with a quick hike to watch the sun rise over the valley.
There’s easy-peasy parking at City Hall, and the hike is a mild, half-mile jaunt up to the overlook, which connects to other trails.
Bogert Trail, Palm Springs • 1.8 miles
Bogert offers a pretty overlook of south Palm Springs and leads to junctions with several other trails. We opted to do this as a moderate loop, with the first half on the mountain, the rest on residential streets.
Randall Henderson Trail, Palm Desert • 2.8 miles
This one is a favorite, and we’ve been doing it since E was just a wee little guy, so I think it’s appropriate for many ages.
The trailhead begins at Friends of the Desert Mountains. The visitor center and parking lot were closed, but parking is available across the street or along the side of the road. (It is a very busy road, though. Be careful.)
Oswit Canyon, Palm Springs • 3.2 miles
I love Oswit Canyon, and I’m grateful to everyone who worked hard to save it from becoming a housing development.
This hike is particularly great during covid times, because there’s not one particular trail that takes you back into the canyon. Basically everything is a trail, so you can really maintain distance from other hikers.
It’s also a gradual climb (you don’t even realize you’ve gained elevation until you look back), and it feels like a real escape from the rest of the world. Bighorn sheep sightings are not uncommon.
Fish Traps Archeological Site, Thermal • 1 mile
This wasn’t much of a hike, but wow, was it cool. We found petroglyphs (and modern graffiti, sadly), shells, broken pottery, and best of all — hundreds of fish traps! Yes, in the desert.
Back when ancient Lake Cahuilla was here, the Cahuilla Indians crafted these ingenious stone traps to catch fish. You can learn all about that here.
Goat Trails, Palm Springs • 3.2 miles
These trails go on forever and branch off into multiple other trails, and I don’t even remember which path we took. Only that we reached an old horse corral that I’ve never seen before, and it was in the middle of nowhere.
This area is heavily trafficked, but the first section is wide. Then once the trail begins to branch off, it’s easy to maintain distance from others.
Earl Henderson Trail, Palm Springs • 2.3 miles
When I first moved to Palm Springs, I ran this trail multiple times a week. Unlike a lot of other trails here, it’s hilly; not a relentless, glute-killing climb. It’s also in the shadow of the mountain, so it remains cool on hot mornings.
Mission Creek to Stone House, Mission Creek Preserve • 3.6 miles
Mission Creek is a dreamy place, often overlooked in favor of other parks and preserves, and that’s fine with me. My son could spend hours tossing rocks into the creek, floating leaves in the water, falling off logs into the mud.
The main path will take you along the creek, next to desert wetlands that are popular with birdwatchers, and past historic structures to the Stone House. (Believe it or not, this used to be a dude ranch/resort.)
The trail near the Stone House links up with the Pacific Crest Trail, so you can pull a Cheryl Strayed and just keep going if you want.
Hidden Palm Oasis, Thousand Palms • 3.8 miles
This hike’s name is no joke. You’re walking along a bleached, somewhat barren landscape, then you head down a slope and SURPRISE! A hidden palm oasis. And it’s glorious too. Cool, breezy, a nice stop for a snack.
We’ve also seen a lot of horned lizards on this hike, and we love horned lizards for being the most metal of all creatures. Here, I’ll let you see for yourself.
McCallum Trail, Thousand Palms • 3.4 miles
This out-and-back trail at the Coachella Valley Preserve will take you to a large pond that is fed by underground springs (the result of seismic activity along the San Andreas Fault). Kind of. Right now the pond is closed due to desert pupfish reintroduction.
We continued beyond the pond toward Vista Point and Moon Country trails, then decided to save Moon Country for another day.
I always get a thrill at the beginning of this hike, which starts by the now-closed visitor center. An elevated wooden platform leads you through a marshy oasis with small ponds and shaggy palm trees. It looks and feels otherworldly, like Ewoks might hop out of the trees.
Bump and Grind, Palm Desert • 4.3 miles
This moderate trail is great for some serious exercise, but it’s also uncomfortably crowded. I once saw an entire bachelorette party on the trail — Mardi Gras beads, water bottles with penis straws, bridal veils and satin sashes, the whole bit.
We hiked this loop at dawn, and it still had too many hikers for my taste. On the plus side, this trail branches off into some other excellent Palm Desert trails, it offers a picturesque view of the town, and it’s easy to find and centrally located.
The top is closed every year from February 1 to April 30 for Bighorn sheep lambing season. We lucked out and made this hike on Jan. 31, so we were able to do the full loop. My son struggled around the 1-mile mark, but we took it slow and made frequent stops until we made it.
One interesting and occasionally brutal thing about my son, though, is that he tells me exactly how a story resonates within him. Like, within his body.
“That was so funny, mom, I felt it all the way up here,” he’ll say, drawing an imaginary line from his toes to his mouth.
“You scared me to here,” he’ll say, motioning to his hip. Then he’ll put his hand next to his chin. “Next time see if you can scare me to here.”
A couple of my tall tales were so bad, they didn’t even rank. “That story fell on the ground. I didn’t even feel it,” he said. “It didn’t touch me.”
It’s strange to be edited in real time by my own 6-year-old child, yes. But his feedback made me fiercer in my telling. I went bolder and weirder and wilder, all for the sake of garnering a reaction.
The body is more than 60% water, which is why music, chanting, and sound therapies have such an impact on how we feel. They change the vibration within us. (Think: That glass of water in Jurassic Park when the T. rex approaches the car, only you’re the cup of water.)
But I also like to believe on some level we’re made up of stories — at least 60%, if not more. So I can’t help but thrill at how my child receives a narrative and considers it a full-body experience. The stories are in his heart, up to his neck, even pooling on the ground around him.
This morning Everest and I took a walk and passed a sweet little cemetery in downtown Palm Springs. He immediately scrambled up the stone wall that surrounds the cemetery, positioned himself to hop down, and declared his intention to pick a flower for me. A flower from a grave.
He’s never seen a cemetery before, so he didn’t know. I shouted “No no no no no!” Then I explained to him what this place is, and how we respect the dead. We don’t touch monuments or headstones. We don’t stand on a burial place. And we never, ever pick the flowers.
He climbed off the wall and ran to my side.
“There are dead people there?”
Yes, I said. He and I talk about death a lot, which I didn’t expect to do with a preschooler. But our cat died a couple years ago, and Ev always has questions about that, and we talk about my mom, who is dead.
I try to be very clear and straightforward about this: There is no rainbow bridge in our conversations. I don’t use any euphemisms or evasive language. And I don’t promise him an afterlife. There is simply the body, which is buried or cremated, and the memories, which live on.
He asked more questions about the cemetery: Who are the people buried there? Will I be buried there? Will he be buried there? Why are they under the ground? And as I answered him, I mentally congratulated myself on this healthy conversation about death and dying and how well I had explained everything.
“It’s just weird,” Ev said as we walked away.
“What is, baby?”
“How all those people died right there. And in a line too.”
