Light a Fire in the Center of your Self

I had such a great time at Crystal Crane, despite my initial hesitation. Desert landscapes can really bum me out, with how dry and desolate it feels, and the facilities at the hot springs were so developed that it was jarring, especially after coming from Juntura. Floating in the pool at night and gazing up at the universe was magic. The pool was huge, and never got too deep, but easily came up to my neck standing in the middle. We took turns, one of us floating belly-up, the other guiding gentle circles around the pool. It was meditative, and healing, and beautiful. The burrowing owls that lived there reminded me that life persists everywhere, and the cat who earned a job and a home there reminded me that we forge new bonds to create functional futures.

Our night at Crystal Crane was the last we would share with my folks for this leg of the journey. After dreamy morning soaks and a shared breakfast, we parted ways, and my parents returned to Portland with Jade and Brent while Wyatt and I continued South. I started missing them as soon as they left, but a part of me was glad for the sudden stillness. Luckily, I would see them all again soon!

The Alvord Desert is in Southeastern Oregon, a 12-by-7 mile ancient lake-bed East of tne Steens Mountain Wilderness. When we arrive, it’s already mid-afternoon, and it’s been hot for hours. Dusty, exposed earth appeals to neither of us as a campsite, so we explore down dirt roads until we find a miraculously green oasis – a modest stream that feeds a thin but verdant ravine. It is enough to offer us shade, and a cool breeze, both of which we neglect to take advantage of for an embarrassingly long time. Something amazing about hunger and heat: they have the power to completely override critical thinking. Hungry, hot, and irritable, we fought against the sun and the wind and each other to erect a shade tarp over our tent that wouldn’t completely restrict air flow. This was easily one of our grumpiest challenges, and we finally gave up and walked away from it to sit by the stream and eat and recover. Watch how quickly your attitude changes when you stop fighting yourself.

Calmed down at last, we could see that we already had everything we needed to be comfortable and happy. We could enjoy the oasis for what it was, what it offered to us: a beautiful gift. We were not alone in seeking out sweet relief. The water offered its bounty freely to all, and attracted a myriad of creatures, ourselves among them. We were smiling again, and light-hearted enough to explore our newest home. A large, well-camouflaged hare beckoned our attention up the road and deeper into the hills. Harsh landscapes breed hardy natives. Coarse, gnarled juniper, dry sagebrush, and sunbaked stones cooked to crystals. The more time I spent here, the more I could feel forces beyond my understanding working diligently day after day. How long it must have taken to change the structure of that rock into what I saw that day. When the moon rose later that night, we walked back out to greet it, battered by night winds and full of life.

The next day we went to the nearest town, a place on the desert edge called Fields, to fill the tires with air. We traveled a lot of rough roads this summer, and our campsite the previous night had been no exception. But first, we needed our bath.

Alvord hot springs is a concrete pool in the desert which pipes in hot water from the source which flows just next to it. The source is really cool, a steaming stream running from east to west with a thick layer of orange algae growing all along the edges. It’s clearly too hot to enter directly, so the pipes allow temperature control in the pool itself. A portion of the stream is diverted to the pools, where you can turn levers on and off, either letting more hot water in or stopping the flow outright. We enjoyed ourselves for a long time, using our sunbrellas to prevent the heat of the day from ruining the heat of the pool. Finally, toes pruned and minds relaxed, we got going. We had bought 24-hour entry to the spring, so we made plans to come back later that night.

In Fields, we struggled for at least an hour to make the air pump at the only gas station in town functional. The attachment fit poorly, and was actively deflating the tires more than anything. I was convinced that we would need to drive another 40 minutes to the next town, or else risk limping back with an actual flat. Wyatt was determined though, and finally, through sheer force of will, he made it work. Something I really admire about Wyatt is his tenacity and dedication; when he puts his mind to something, he shows up and works hard for it. Thanks to him, we had four full tires, and a full supply of water.

It was dark when we got back to the hot springs, so we went to check it out – but unfortunately the pools were full. Obviously we can’t people stew like we used to, nor did we want to. So we returned to our camp, this time just across the road at the sites provided with the 24-hour access. When we came back a few hours later, it was to an empty moonlit pool. There is nothing quite like a warm bath under the stars. Really, any activity is improved under starlight. I remember slumber parties with my grandma, falling asleep under star-filled skylights. It’s an honor and a thrill to witness what lies behind the veil, and to be reminded of our place in the fabric of things.

The next day, we got up early and enjoyed the pool one last time, then drove out onto the desert itself. Special awareness goes out the window there – what looks very close could be far, far away, and it wasn’t until we were well out there that I realized I wasn’t sure where we entered from. That being said, it was firmer than I expected, having come into the concept of a desert from the viewpoint of sand. This hard, cracked earth was just as inhospitable as the shifting dunes could be, and in the back of my mind an animal unease was growing. This climate was not suited to my survival, and my body was struggling to adapt. With temperatures rising day by day, and shady retreats few and far between, I could tell that Wyatt was worrying about me. Over the next few days we would have to decide whether we would continue on, or not. ..