The fog was thick, and the thin ribbon of a roadway disappeared around yet another hair-pin turn in less than half the length of a football field ahead of us. CA-1, the Shoreline Highway in Northern California, was empty except for our car and one other, with which we had been trading pull-out slots with for several miles now. But this time, instead of racing ahead, our roadway partner pulled in behind us, unwilling to pass up the views that had all but compelled us to stop.
Vivien and I have made many trips from our home in Phoenix Arizona out to the coast of California. From San Diego in the south to San Francisco in the north, twice a year, the ocean waves have always pulled us from our desert dwelling. On those trips west, with our beach destination fixed in my mind, I would pass the exit for Joshua Tree National Park, off I-10 West bound, going 85MPH, and would often say "next time," I'll have to budget some time to stop by and check out the park. Over the years, I had heard so many wonderful things about Joshua Tree NP - the great camping, the out worldly rock formations, the lovely hiking trails, the smaller crowds when compared against its Grand Canyon sister a couple hundred miles to the northeast.
