BudgetTravel

Day 1: Palm Springs to Desert Hot Springs

It must've been the brochure I was holding that tipped off the rental-car agent that I was heading to Joshua Tree National Park. "You know, the Joshua tree isn't a tree at all," he said as he handed over the keys to a navy PT Cruiser convertible. "It's a yucca." Legend has it that the yucca was renamed by Mormon settlers who thought its upraised limbs and scruffy-bearded appearance resembled the prophet Joshua leading them to the promised land--which seemed like a good enough reason to bring my friend Josh along on the trip.

Jumbo Rocks campground (Joshua Cogan) NOVEMBER 2006 ISSUE • Table of Contents • Laos: A Tour That Even Loners Can Love • Buenos Aires . . . Then What? • Road Trip: Joshua Tree • Trip Coach: Switzerland • 40 Best Vacations

With the ragtop down, we drive northwest on Indian Canyon Drive, and we're soon greeted by the wind farms of San Gorgonio Pass. The 60-foot-tall gray metal poles are intrusive, but striking, and in any event harnessing the wind is better than burning oil. With more than 4,000 turbines, the farm is one of world's largest, and since we're in a convertible, we can hear the propellers whirring every time we stop at a red light. They sound like gentle waves breaking in the clouds.

About 30 miles later, in Yucca Valley, we reach Edchadas, a Mexican cafe popular with rock climbers refueling after a day at Joshua Tree. The lunch crowd is slow, but Josh and I don't mind. We order the lunch special--heaping plates of enchiladas, rice, and beans--and catch up like old friends do.

I'm eager to reach Desert Hot Springs, 20 miles south. Because it's built over a natural mineral-water aquifer, the town claims to have some of the world's best water. We backtrack a bit, as I'd made a reservation for a mud bath at Two Bunch Palms--now a ritzy resort, it was originally built by Al Capone as his western hideout. Little do I know what I'm getting myself into--literally. It's called mud, but if the smell is any indication, it could be fertilizer for my mother's garden. After a half-hour-long, neck-deep soak, I'm treated to a hot mineral-water shower, a steam, and full use of the grounds, but it's not enough. I smell like manure the rest of the day. Josh thanks me yet again for renting us a convertible.

At 5 P.M. we leave Two Bunch Palms for our hotel, a pleasant spot called the Emerald Springs Resort and Spa. Our room has turquoise walls, black furniture, and white duvets, giving it a '50s vibe. We go swimming in all three of the hotel's heated mineral-water pools, in the shadow of the San Jacinto Mountains, surrounded by cacti and bougainvillea. We fall asleep early, in anticipation of our first day exploring Joshua Tree National Park.

Lodging

Food

Activities