JOSHUA TREE NATIONAL PARK, A Visit to Historic Keys Ranch, Guest Post by Susan Kean

Keys Ranch, main house, Joshua Tree National Park.

My friend Susan Kean loves to travel and has been a regular contributor to this blog. In February, she drove with friends to Joshua Tree National Park from her home in Redlands, California. I was particularly interested to hear about her visit to Keys Ranch, once a homestead and now a historic site within the park. Joshua Tree became a National Monument in 1936 and a National Park in 1994. 

Here is Susan's report.

I recently spent an overnight in Joshua Tree National Park with my friends Barbara and Sue. On our way out, we enjoyed the Palm Springs Aerial Tramway and walked around at the top of the mountain. There was a small amount of snow. The day was glorious, so the view from the top was magnificent.

At the top of the tramway.

Then we headed over to our lodging in the Joshua Tree area in an incredibly isolated location down about two miles of dirt road. 

Desert landscape with Joshua Tree.

The antelope ground squirrel is adapted to desert life, using its tail to shade itself from the sun.

It was a real adventure with a spectacular nighttime view of the stars.

Mining equipment at Keys Ranch. They mined silver and gold.

The next day we booked a tour of Keys Ranch. This was a mining and cattle ranch built by homesteader William Keys in 1910. 

He kept everything.

This was the chicken coop--to give the chickens a safe place at night from coyotes.

Since farming in the desert was very difficult, many other homesteaders left and he acquired their land. He built up a huge area of land which he eventually sold but on condition that he and his wife could live out their lives there. The person they sold it to gave it to the Government and it became Joshua Tree National Park.

View down to the Salton Sea.

Note from CA: You an learn more about the creation of Joshua Tree National Park in the excellent children’s book, Cactus Queen by Lori Alexander, the story of Minerva Hoyt, who campaigned in Washington, D.C. for the creation of the park. 

MURALS AT THE FOWLER MUSEUM, UCLA, Los Angeles, California

Close-up of mural created by UCLA students for Fowler Museum, Los Angeles, CA.

On a recent visit to the Fowler Museum on the UCLA campus, I was struck by the murals lining the walls surrounding the center atrium. Printed with colorful, overlapping images that repeated across the surface, they invited me to look closer. There are six of them—two with enlarged versions of the individual images, and four with the images much smaller, printed in rows and covering the entire surface of the canvas. Standing far away, each mural looks like a giant vertical carpet, filling the available space. Close-up the effect is almost three-dimensional, like an optical illusion, the designs shimmering in the air.

According to the information panel about the murals, they were created by UCLA students working with Brazilian artists and activists Monica Nador and Bruno Oliviera of the Jardim Miriam Arte Clube (JAMAC) in Sao Paolo.  (JAMAC fosters collaboration between artists, local residents, and activists to create murals, prints, and public interventions that reflect community narratives and struggles.) Through a series of workshops, conversations led to a design process, followed by stencil making, and finally a discussion-based construction of patterns that reflected the complex interactions between the community and the artist.

In the following photographs you can appreciate the complexity of the designs and the richness of the patterns and colors.  But to get the full impact you have to see them in person.

To find out about the meaning of the images and the source of their inspiration you can listen to interviews with the students HERE.. 

The Fowler Museum is open Wednesday 12-8 pm, and Thursday through Sunday 12-5 pm. Admission is always free.

ON THE “ROOF OF NORWAY” – IN THE JOTUNHEIMEN MOUNTAINS: Guest Post by Caroline Hatton

Kyrkja (north face), Jotunheimen National Park, Norway.

My friend Caroline Hatton, a children’s writer and frequent contributor to this blog, took the photos in this post in July 2025.

Jotunheimen mountains (J), Norway (N), Oslo (O).*

To see the beauty of Norway, my husband and I targeted three natural wonders: the Lofoten Islands, fjords, and Jotunheimen mountains, the highest in northern Europe. They were named after one of the nine worlds of Norse mythology, the home of the giants. Who knows? Perhaps giants really live up there.

To day hike for a week in and near Jotunheimen National Park, while driving clockwise around it, we picked up a rental car in Åndalsnes after visiting the fjord region. We had reserved lodging for three nights near Bygdin, two nights in Tyinkrysset, and three nights in Lom (Google Maps finds it as Fossbergom), our closest stay to the highest mountains.

Driving to Bygdin on a sunny day, we watched for shiny waterfalls on the Troll’s Wall mountainside, stopped in an evergreen forest for a short walk to the Knight’s Leap, a rocky gorge narrow enough for a knight of legend to have leaped across to save his beloved, and enjoyed going through small towns, villages, and farmland.

We had planned a day hike to “the most beautiful valley in the Jotunheimen,” Svartdalen (Black Valley), to see lush meadows below snowy peaks and glaciers. We would take the earliest boat at one end of Lake Bygdin, get off at the trailhead, hike to the valley, and come back down in time to catch the last return boat.

But three weeks before this highly anticipated day, I received an e‑mail from the boat company apologizing for having to cancel and refund all boat tickets for 2025. The lake level was too low to launch any boat, in part because of insufficient spring precipitation.

Fortunately, there are many other trails around Bygdin. We almost reached the nearest peak for a first glimpse of the Jotunheimen, but we turned around because it was too windy and too steep near the end.

Lake Bygdin.

Instead, we walked on a level trail above and along Lake Bygdin. We learned to speak Norwegian in no time, by echoing the local hikers’ friendly greeting, which sounds like “hey‑hey!” (or “hey‑hey‑hey” for extra cheerfulness).

The next day, our favorite of several walks was in cool misty air, complete solitude, and bucolic loveliness, across hilly pastures toward Leirungsdalen Valley. The only tent we saw faced the best view of lakes and snowy mountains.

Farm.

On the drive to our next lodging in Tyinkrysset were farms straight out of fairy tales. We stopped to hike up to a bench with a lake view on a section of the King’s Road, a 1790s royal-carriage road restored as a hiking trail. We took a break in a kafé where the Dutch barista had no decaf because, he said, “Norwegians don’t drink decaf. They want full power!” On my request, he gladly poured one tablespoon (~15 mL) of strong coffee in a mug and filled it with hot milk.

Øye stave church.

In Øye, we ate grab-and-go sandwiches on a bench above the first of the three stave (vertical wooden boards) churches we would see. In the following days, we would also visit the famous Borgund church and walk around the one in Lom. To compare the three, the Øye church is the smallest, simplest, and plainest, but its setting is the loveliest. The other two churches are larger, have more roofs upon stacked roofs, and crosses and dragon heads adorning roof ridges. The Borgund church is the most authentic stave church in Norway—the least changed since it was built nearly a thousand years ago.

The King’s Road.

From Tyinkrysset, we visited the Borgund church, then walked downhill from there on the most spectacular part of the King’s Road. From the river at the bottom of the hill, we walked back on a trail through woods and farmland.

Lake Tyin.

On the scenic drive from Tyinkrysset to Lom, Lake Tyin is where locals fish for trout. Restaurants offer it baked the traditional Norwegian way, served whole with sour cream sauce, roasted potatoes, and pickled cucumber.

We spent all day driving the ~220 km (~134 mi) that take less than 3 hours nonstop, because we slowed down and stopped and strolled around at every tempting opportunity. After the first hour and a half (which included some narrow switchbacks), we turned uphill onto the second half of Norwegian NationalScenic Route Sognefjellet (Road 55), which goes over the highest mountain pass in northern Europe at 1434 m (~4700‘) to link a fjord to the inland valley where Lom is. The road, open June-October, follows an ancient trade route marked by hundreds of cairns.

In the perfect weather we had, with no storm, rain, fog or wind, our drive was easy in a regular car.

Identifying a peak.

At Nedre Oscarhaug, the first of six formal Rest Areas & Viewpoints, the peak-identification machine, cleverly and beautifully designed by architect Carl-Viggo Hølmebakk, is more fun to use than an app and way bigger than a phone.

To identify a peak, align the vertical wires with its tip and look down at the metal bar pointing at the name of the peak. The official road website at the above link calls the device a “glass telescope,” even though it doesn’t include any lens and doesn’t provide magnification.

Restroom.

At the Oscarshaug Rest Area & Viewpoint, one minute up the road by car, the contemporary restroom was designed by architects, Jensen & Skodvin Arkitektkontor. It was so high-tech, I had to ask the nearest rocket scientist to show me how to operate it.

Stone sculpture.

At the Mefjellet Rest Area and Viewpoint, I bet every visitor takes a snapshot through the stone sculpture by Knut Wold. The sight of snowy mountains and turquoise lakes makes my heart race, so traveling along the road from one pull-out viewpoint to the next took me straight to heaven.

A steep river.

After the pass, Road 55 descends past waterfalls and rivers, down to farmland. But approaching Lom, two spurs go up the adjacent massif. One spur leads to the Leirvassbu Mountain Lodge at 1400 m (~4600‘). The other climbs to the Spiterstulen Tourist Lodge at 1111 m (~3645‘). The two lodges are on an extensive network of trails, including one that links them by following a high valley.

The next day, July 18, we drove 50 minutes from Lom to Leirvassbu and started walking toward Spiterstulen at a good clip. Before long, we slowed way down. There were simply too many lakes and snowy peaks and photo opps, including entertaining encounters with free-ranging sheep with long, intact tails.

We crossed boulder fields on lake shores. Walking over rocks covered by a snow patch was easier for me, a petite hiker, than for heavier people, because I didn’t sink. Stepping on exposed uneven rocks, harder to reach with shorter legs, was the exact opposite. Soon, it was clear that we wouldn’t come close to the halfway point between Leirvassbu and Spiterstulen.

But why keep walking when one has arrived? I took the photo at the top of this post, of a distinctive leaning peak, found a comfortable rock to sit on, and whipped out my grab-and-go sandwich of the day.

Spiterstulen Tourist Lodge.

On July 19, our last day in the mountains before going back to Oslo to fly home, we drove 40 minutes from Lom to Spiterstulen. The trail to Leirvassbu was easy, across meadows along a rushing river, with a couple of high wooden footbridges over silty glacier runoff.

The views of peaks and snow and ice at every step were less sensational than those of the day before. This made the experience less intense and, especially with far fewer hikers around, more peaceful.

Kyrkja (east face).

That is, until the first glimpse of the leaning peak I had reached the day before flooded me with feelings of completion. From that point on, I basked in bliss, even though I never quite made it to that landmark.

 Anyone wishing to hike from one lodge to the other, which may require arranging a ride back, should definitely consider hiking uphill from Spiterstulen to Leirvassbu, from quiet to rousing beauty.

 Footnote:

 * Credit for the globe image: Rob984 - Derived from Germany on the globe (Germany centered).svg, CC BY-SA 4.0 via Wikimedia Commons.

HAPPY 15TH ANNIVERSARY to THE INTREPID TOURIST: Sunday at the Pyramids—Notes from the Field

Teotihuacan, Mexico. Pyramid of the Sun.

Fifteen years ago, in April 2011, I launched The Intrepid Tourist. Its original purpose was to publish my accumulated travel writing, but soon expanded to include articles by friends and family. With a new post once a week since then, there are now more than 600 posts on the blog. And the total number of views is now more than a million. I thank all my guest posters and my dedicated readers who inspire me to keep it going.

This week’s post comes from a long-lost folder, recently discovered when cleaning out my file drawers.  Every trip leaves its impressions—of sights, sounds, smells, people, animals, places—all the things that make a place and an experience unique. In 1992, I was in Mexico, researching my book City of the Gods: Mexico’s Ancient City of Teotihuacan. The notes I found in the file folder are my first impressions after arriving at the site, a short distance outside Mexico City. None of the information in my notes appears in my book, which is about the pre-Aztec civilization that thrived at Teotihuacan nearly 2000 years ago. I’m not sure why I kept them. But as I read through my notes I am transported back to that day. They encapsulate what I like most about travel—the richness of all the little things that make each experience unique and memorable.

 Sunday at the Pyramids

(Notes from the field.)

Tent restaurants along the road—each with someone waving at passing cars—a woman in a red dress with a white apron.

Families picnicking on the grassy area along the fence around the pyramids—making a rope swing from tree, playing soccer, drinking beer.

Vendors on road by traffic circle with buckets of oranges, cactus fruit, large woody objects like coconuts.

Old man and child with donkey cart stopped in the shade, looking through the fence at the garden of our hotel—green lawns, white iron tables, flowers, children’s play equipment.

Dogs and puppies everywhere. Also, chickens, a family of ducks, sheep, goats, donkeys--all randomly grazing along side of road.

Wildflowers—little yellow and orange ones; tiny purple fireweed.

Whirling men on a pole seen from a distance.

Donkey drinking beer in front of a craft shop.

Man offering a maguey demonstration.

Children driving green and orange plastic go-carts on the cement plaza.

A parade—chanting with banners.

Parking lot jammed with cars and tour buses.

Young couples more interested in each other than the pyramids—laughing, touching, kissing.

Children racing up steps of pyramids and crawling through irrigation holes in walls.

Vendors slipping out of their pockets obsidian heads and knives, clay figures—“good price”, “very cheap”, “genuine”.  Also selling blankets, necklaces, plates, flutes, harps.  A constant repetitive trill of flutes and simple tunes on harps.

Japanese group posing for photo on Sun Pyramid, taking turns with each camera. “Say whiskey!”

Met an Australian couple pushing a stroller with two children—had been told to walk 1 km down wrong road. They didn’t speak Spanish. We were parked by a cactus garden on road leading to Sun Pyramid. Dick was taking photos of the hundreds of people going up the steps of the pyramid with his 500 mm lens on a tripod. [Richard Hewett was the photographer of my book.]

Passed by two soldiers leading girls on horses—later soldiers returned alone.

All day there was the sound of fireworks—later found out it was from a fiesta celebrating the Virgin of Guadalupe.

Streets in the town of San Juan de Teotihuacan decorated with strings of paper decorations.

Soccer game on field within the archeological zone.

For more about Teotihuacan read my post of Jan 29, 2018 about the fabulous exhibit at the de Young Museum in San Francisco.