“The smoke tries choking the pacific sun, we rocket down the road like we’re shot out of guns, and if the house burns down tonight, I got everything I need with you by my side. And let the rest burn.” from If House Burns Down Tonight by Switchfoot
Southern California is home to various creators, from writers, artists, performers, and film makers. We thrive on dramatic tones, discordant notes, despondent second acts. We love the rugged extremes of the Southern California landscape. But the privilege of mild winters and variety of terrain comes with a cost. Wildfires are one of them.
The chance of a wildfire reaching my home in the desert is slim, but never zero. Often the riverbed on the edge of my city catches fire and ash falls into my swimming pool. But my daughter’s family was evacuated from the mountains in August. My son was evacuated during the current fires. Neither lost their home. But they could have.
The answer to the question I know you are thinking is it’s worth it. It’s worth it to live in an awe-inspiring land where dreams can come true. It forces you to take stock of what is important in your life, and it’s never a building. If the house burns down tonight, I want my family and pets by my side. I want my friends to be there, too. Everything else can be replaced. Or maybe not. But at least I know what is truly valuable.
One good way to procrastinate about writing is to do research.
Yesterday I was working on a ghost story set at the Salton Sea. My husband and I had been to the Salton Sea a few times. Twice we rode along the length of the giant saltwater lake with the HOGs (Harley Owners Group). Once we stayed at a nearby RV park with friends and went Jeeping along the north shore.
To a Californian accustomed to seeing hundreds of boats and jet skis on any body of water, it was amazing to see an empty lake with only birds flying above it. From a distance, the water looked bright blue, the blue of a calm ocean. It seemed out of place in the middle of a rocky, sandy desert surrounded by mountains.
After doing my research, now I understand the Salton Sea is an unfortunate and poisonous ditch.
The Salton Sea first appeared after man’s interference with the Colorado River. A canal broke in 1905, causing water to escape into a dry lakebed at the southern end of the San Andreas fault. At first, it was considered a lucky accident, and developers rushed in to build resorts. The state stocked it with saltwater fish to lure fishermen. The desert’s quiet was broken by the sound of ski boats and laughing families on vacation.
In the 1950’s, celebrities, including Frank Sinatra, the Beach Boys, and Bing Cosby, came down from Palm Springs to hang out at The Ski Inn bar and The Waterfront. A state park was established near Bombay Beach, a small community at the water’s edge. People began to buy property in the area. It became an oasis in the desert.
However, as local farmers pumped out water and desalinated it for their date palm and citrus groves, the remaining water in the Salton Sea became more salty and polluted with pesticides. By the 1970s, fish started dying and people started having health problems. With only trickles of water entering the lake and no outlet, the Salton Sea became toxic to animal and plant life. Not exactly where you would want to spend your vacation.
When the Salton Sea flooded in the 1970s, it took away part of the small community of Bombay Beach. Small homes and trailers were stranded in the salty water. As they sank into the water, a white crust formed around them, making them appear to be melting. Looters took valuable copper wire and the rest was abandoned. A dike was built around the remainder of Bombay Beach to preserve what was left.
Then the artists came. They took the post-apocalyptic ruins and made them into art installations. A retro drive-in sign points to a group of rusted, broken down cars set up in rows, pointing toward a white semi-trailer representing a outdoor movie screen. A small fighter plane was set up as a sculpture. A ruined house was decorated with bright-colored children’s toys.
An accident. A tourist destination. A toxic ruin. An artistic statement. The Salton Sea is all those things and yet more. Perhaps it reveals the limitations of man’s control over nature. Maybe it reminds us that we don’t know it all.
That was how I spent my Sunday afternoon. Looking at photos and watching videos. Did I finish the short story I was working on? Not yet. But it was fun digging into the past life of the Salton Sea.
Jodi Rizzotto 