Loneliness has finally caught up with me the last day or two. I haven’t seen a friend in five weeks, which actually isn’t all that unusual for me even when I’m home. I just don’t seek out social interaction much, though I enjoy it once I’m in the situation, but on the road I think I need to start chatting people up more. You can only read so many books before you realize that the voices you give to the characters that come to life in your head are still a little bit you, and I’ve had a lot of me lately.
Coupled with this is that some of the social interactions I would typically have—with my neighbors, or with regulars at the gym I go to—are missing. Which reminds me that I’m also missing exercising at the gym and I think that’s affecting my mental health a tiny bit; even though I’ve been hiking a lot, it doesn’t make up for weights and a hard workout. I’d considered bringing dumbbells just to try to get a little resistance workout, then skipped it, but maybe I’ll find some. Or, I guess I could neanderthal it and just start lifting rocks over my head at the campground—there are plenty of them of all sizes. But then when you lift rocks how you not smash? Adam like smash thing with rock.
I think tomorrow a few hours before sunset I’m going to push myself and try an eight mile hike near my campsite at Joshua Tree National Park that leads to a palm oasis, a spot in the desert where enough water gathers that a small grove of desert palms have congregated in their own way of being social. So I will go and chat with them and whatever else I see on the way.
Supposedly there are desert tortoises in the park, considered a threatened species and California’s state reptile, but I’ve yet to see one and likely won’t. They take it easy in the winters and summers, burrowing underground for body temp control. It’s not hibernating exactly, just a way of life: they spend 95 percent of their lives underground. Some of their adaptations are wild, but after 20 million years on the planet, I suppose you’d expect them to have come up with some pretty cool shit. For example, they “dig depressions in the earth to catch rainwater and are able to store water in their bladder and significantly increase their body weight when tanking up after a good rainstorm,” says the national park service. Which seems like it would be a great adaptation for humans, too, so we don’t have to buy expensive water bottles.
Also interesting are the many reasons why they’re on the threatened species list, all of those reasons essentially coming down to humans:
“Several factors conspired to diminish the population of the desert tortoise. As more people moved into the western deserts, the resultant loss of habitat made a serious dent in the number of tortoises. With more people came more ravens, large black birds with a keen appetite for hatchling tortoises. The number of ravens has exploded in recent years, due in large part to their ability to thrive in developed areas. The factors contributing to their dramatic increase include more roads, thus more roadkill; landfills; powerline poles, an ideal lookout post for hungry ravens; and littering. Litter in the park attracts ravens, so please dispose of your garbage responsibly.”
I’m not blaming humanity—we have to coexist with each other and animals, but some common sense and a little decency go a long way sometimes in helping others thrive, both tortoises and people. It always blows my mind to see litter left behind in national parks, at campgrounds but even on more secluded trails. Please, just stay home if you can’t be bothered to take your garbage with you when you go.
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