I’m writing this from the desert, with this as my view:
I got out here the other day and the first thing I noticed as I drove up was that it seemed that the Bear had gotten into my dumpster. This is not a metaphor.
The Bear claimed Pioneertown as its territory maybe a year or so ago. I haven’t had the pleasure of meeting her (I think) in person yet, but I’ve heard lots of stories.
She destroyed a neighbor’s outdoor kitchen, smashed his microwave, and terrorized his dog. Another went around saying he shot the Bear (which is not only ruthless but also highly illegal), but then a couple of months later, the Bear was back with cubs in tow.
I think the Bear likely came down to the desert from the mountains of Big Bear, but the only evidence I have for that is the presence of “Bear” in the mountain’s name.
There were neighborhood meetings about how to handle the Bear (I missed them) and lots of advice posted in groups online. I found out that I should get one of the dumpsters that you can padlock, so I did. But those only work if someone actually locks it, and when I drove up my dumpster was unlocked, open, and there were ripped up trash bags and trash on the ground.
On the scale of Fucked Up Things That Happen in the Desert, this one was pretty low. There wasn’t that much trash; it only took me a few minutes to clean it up.
When I first bought the house and was renovating it, I got an anonymous note threatening to report me to the Pioneertown HOA (there isn’t one) if I didn’t put wood paneling on my exterior columns or otherwise make my house — made out of stucco and built in 2007 — look like a house on the Western frontier. I ignored it. I think this ranks higher than my dumpster bear?
The weekend before I was supposed to start renting the house out, I arrived late at night and found tiny bugs covering the living room floor. Like it looked like a carpet made out of false chinch bugs (yes that’s their real name.) The next morning the well pump broke, so I had no water. Four thousand dollars later, the bugs were gone and I could flush the toilet. That may have been the same trip where I almost stepped on a small scorpion in my bathroom. I was barefoot. 1
Then there’s the neighbor who liked to steal electricity from me by running a very long extension cord from one of my outdoor outlets all the way to his property. I asked him nicely to stop doing that because I was trying to be, you know, neighborly, but it turns out that desert people take asking nicely as a sign of weakness.
I was back in LA when my gardener texted me that it was happening again, but this time the guy had set up a shredder outside on the other side of the fence, which is actually not even his property, it’s our other neighbors. I think he was trying to frame them.
This time I told him that I finally understood why the entire town has restraining orders against him (mostly true) and if he did it again, I was going to file one, too. So far so good. And now I love to make the joke that he was using my electricity to shred all of his restraining orders.
And then there was the time I saw this snake outside my living room window:
All of this is to say, the desert is a strange place. And I haven’t even gotten into anything about aliens, cults, or serial killers.
The most consecutive time I’ve spent out here was around three months two summers ago and during that time, I started saying things like: the desert does not want us out here. The desert wants to turn everything to dust.
Dramatic.
The desert is also peaceful and beautiful. It’s a great place to unplug and go inward, especially if you’re looking for creative inspiration. Curate your media consumption, turn off your phone, and go walk in the boulders. That’s what I was wanting to do out here over these past few days.
I’ll leave you with a few recommendations if you find yourself out in the Mojave desert, and one to make you feel like you’ve been transported out here.
The Desert Oracle Podcast is the vibe of the desert
La Copine is delicious
Pappy and Harriet’s is the best place to see a show
Red Dog Saloon is a great place to grab a drink
Mas o Menos is perfect for coffee and getting some work done
Until next time,
Tara
There’s no one to call in a situation like this, so I did what any desert dweller would do — I put on my cowboy boots and smashed it :(