Anza-Borrego State Park, Yaqui Pass ----------------------------------- anza-borrego state park, salton sea, salton beach, hwy 78, yaqui pass, bill kenyon, conservation, wilderness, rocks, geology --- Bill Kenyon Trail "This trail is dedicated to the memory of William L. Kenyon, Superintendent, District 6, State Division of Beaches and Parks 1947 - 1959. "Mr. Kenyon was an ardent conservationist, tireless in his efforts to acquire and preserve these magnificent desert lands for the people of California and the nation." --- Along the trail: lots of streaky white bands in rocks. One rock had a circular swirl, like an "O", a squiggle like a "W", and on another face a sharp edge like an "L". The white bands forming the letter-like curves was consistently an inch or so thick. In another place, a foot-wide streak of white crossed the trail, then zig-zagged down the slope. Lots of quartzite scattered, like big pockets or veins had shattered. --- The next night, Monday December 29: Plum Canyon, also in Anza-Borrego State Park. I hiked all the way up the wash, to a ridge where I could see down into the next valley. Where did the wash start? Why? It got narrower and more and more filled with sharp-needled cactuses. No clear start or reason for its paths. Lots of streaky, white-banded rocks. Some straight lines (the gneiss), but mostly schist I would say. The white bands percolated through many different types of rock on the way up the canyon. Some brown, some white, some green, some darker brown, some grey. Yellow rocks in places, gold? Red, quartz, translucent crystals... Vertical, thin-layered rock in great spires encased in other more granite-like rock. Prevailing lines that sank and rose, is there a crack, a fault where the inflection point occurs? --- This morning, Pine Creek Wilderness. Ran down the Espinosa Trail a mile or so. Sets of pullups on twisted oaks... Weather moved in. Holed up in a sketchy, dingy, cheap motel. Well, cheap if they give me my deposit back... The contrast in my mental and physical health between when I'm running around alone in the desert or forest and driving around trying to get through cross-town traffic is marked.