After years of talking about it, Carole and I (along with our visiting sibs-in-law Tom and Sherry) finally got our asses out to the Salton Sea this past Sunday to do a bit of exploring. One of SoCal's biggest evironmental conundrums, the current version of Salton Sea — there's evidence that there was another, smaller one three hundred years ago called Lake Cahuilla — has higher saline levels than any of our oceans, and is slowly dying as a result. Various attempts to turn the Sea into a popular recreation destination have foundered through the years, the most famous example being the Albert Frey-designed North Shore Yacht Club, which was built in 1958 but was already long abandoned by the time the Seventies rolled around.
Of course, the Yacht Club was the first stop on our excursion. The place seemed less creepy than I would have expected, but then again it was a sunny day; I imagine that the graffiti-covered, boarded up structure emits a much more malevolent vibe once the cold and clouds roll in. The Sea itself is absolutely gorgeous and peaceful, surrounded by purple mountains and home to an amazing variety of birds, including some very active pelicans; you can totally see why people would want to turn the spot into a vacation funland. Of course, when you look down at the ground, and realize that the "beach" is entirely made up of bleached shells, bones and salt deposits, it starts to feel a little less inviting.
People do still make it out to the Salton Sea for recreation, apparently — we saw a couple of beaches lined with RVs — and an intrepid few even live there year-round, in tiny communities like the unincorporated Bombay Beach. Founded in 1929 as a private development, Bombay Beach was actually a fairly happening spot until 1977, when tropical storms caused the Salton Sea to rise. An entire mobile home park wound up underwater, and you can still see the remains of the disaster today. Coming over the hill to beach was a true "Holy Shit!" moment, as we were suddeny surrounded by the rusting shells of old trailers and other debris. And, of course, there was an old organ just sitting there surreally in the middle of it all, as if the floodwaters had caused the local Jimmy Smith to abandon the instrument in mid-gig. I couldn't resist the photo op...
After rooting around the trailer graveyard for awhile, we slaked our thirst at the Ski Inn, one of Bombay Beach's two restaurants. It was the first place I'd been in years (decades?) that actually served Natural Light, but they also had a decent variety of things on tap — I had a Fat Tire, served up in a mason jar — and a round of beers for four people set us back only $7.75. The Sunday buffet spread looked a little dubious, but the folks were friendly, and for a few minutes it seemed like Bombay Beach wouldn't be the worst place to retire when the time comes. Of course, actually waking up there on a hundred-degree morning, with a vicious hangover and the smell of dead Tilapia in your nostrils, might have you singing a different tune.
It was truly a great day, best of '08 so far. For more pics of our expediation, check out my Flickr set here.
Totally random, as I was just doing a search for the Salton Sea, and came across your photos, but if you had come on Saturday, you would've witnessed 30+ photographers doing a huge shoot! We were using the piano you were playing with too :) ;)
Posted by: susan | January 15, 2008 at 06:44 PM
I picture some Hills Have Eyes kinda folks living there.
Posted by: phil | January 21, 2008 at 05:54 PM