by laura beth
Alrighty. It's about time we updated and wrote about our stay in Slab City. That first weekend was great, then we kind of settled into life in the Slabs. All too soon, it was over and we were thrust back into life in Orange County, CA. now that the shock has subsided, I feel ready to talk about it. It may take a couple of posts, and we'll back date them so they make sense and are in order...
First of all, for those who don't know, or haven't read earlier posts, Slab City is a glorious place in the desert in the Imperial Valley in Very Southern California, south of Joshua Tree National Park, near the Salton Sea. Look at a map so you get the idea. Do yourself a favor and take a minute to read about the Salton Sea here so you can understand a bit of the landscape and the economic history of the area.
Slab City was once Camp Dunlap, a WWII military barracks. After the war, the camp was dismantled, leaving the concrete foundations or "slabs". Given the more or less undesirable locale (the Salton Sea, the depressed economy, the Chocolate Mountain Ariel Gunnery Range-bombs!, and the high summer temperatures-125 degrees!), the State of California has allowed people to camp or squat here for free since the early 1960's. The slabs themselves are not plentiful; most have been laid claim to, and the inhabitants will not give them up. Most people set up camp in whatever open space is available. Numbers reach the thousands in the winter.
In my opinion, there are more or less 3 groups of people. There are snow birds, usually retired people that live in places with cold winters (and flee them for warmer climates-hence the name), have higher-end RVs, and have some sort of pension or retirement income. Some snow birds come to the slabs year after year for the free camping. Then there are the free-spirited traveler types. These are people that are attracted to the culture and freedom of the slabs, but like the gypsy lifestyle, and will come and go on a whim, possibly visiting year after year, but not necessarily becoming lifers (Kenny and I fit in this category). Lastly, but most importantly there are the residents (as I call them). They call Slab City home. It's their primary residence. They have carved out for themselves a life there. They don't like going into town. Slab City is their world and they aren't going back. Some live there year round, braving the high temps, but most of them do stay somewhere else for the hot summer months. Quite a few people are know by clever nicknames: Bulider Bill built the Range, Solar Mike has a solar panel business, Beatles Mike, etc.
Now for the landscape. It is a desert. The ground is sand. Creosote bushes are the main plant life, along with a few trees. Camp Dunlap had roads (it was laid out like a grid) which are now pitted, yet drivable and there is some gravel. The ground is hard. The Coachella Canal runs through the area, but other than a natural hot springs there is no water. Camp Dunlap had a swimming pool, which is now a popular place to spray paint and skate. There are at least 3 large, concrete water tanks on the outskirts of Slab City which are also artfully decorated. The sunsets are spectacular, the sky is huge, and the weather is pretty much perfect during the winter. While we were there, the days were in the 80's, and the evenings were maybe in the 50's. There are huge cattle feed lots nearby and a lot of crops that are fertilized with manure. The Salton Sea has it's own unique stench, so at times the breeze coming into the Slabs is rather aromatic. This, of course, simply adds to the charm of the place.
The amenities are few. No plumbing, no running water, no electricity, no sanitation service, and the cell service is spotty. That being said, there is an awful lot going on here. Slab City really is a city in it's own right. There is a library, a golf course, a hot springs pool, a church, at least 3 social clubs, 2 rival live music venues that have someone on the stage every weekend (The Range and The Stage Door), to name a few.
There are no real buildings to speak of. Homes come in various forms. There are people motorhomes and travel trailers that still run and simply park some where, set up camp, and then leave at some point. Others live in RVs that will never again rotate their wheels. Other still have made fairly nice lean-to or rough structures of 2x4s and plywood. Some areas are clean of debris; other areas have loads of trash and burned out RVs.
The Slabs are only about 2 1/2 miles from the nearest tiny town of Niland, which has a few restaurants, small markets, a laundromat with free wifi, a gas station with free water to fill up your tanks, and a swap meet with a dump station. Another 18 miles down California 111, there is a brand spanking new Super Walmart. So the people of the slabs are not completely isolated, and anything they may need is close enough to walk or hitch a ride to (some have their own cars or bikes).
We parked near one of the social clubs, The Oasis, not far from where we camped last Spring. The Oasis Club hosts breakfast on Sunday mornings, and dinner on Wednesday evenings, $3 and $5 respectively. "Membership" costs $20/year and gives you club privileges including $1 off meals, daily coffee, ladder golf, use of the library, game room, television, porta potty, etc. Primarily, the club is a place to gather socially, and any time of day you can see people come and go.
Our first Monday afternoon in the Slabs, Kenny walked over to the Oasis to check out the rumored "happy hour" (show up with your own booze and b.s. for a while). Hours later he came back with a friend and stories of incredible Scrabble matches. Hence the beginning of our friendship with the wonderful, brilliant Mike Bright. Mike is a 53 year old Vietnam-era vet, former carpenter and science teacher from Silver City, New Mexico. He arrived in Slab City on Christmas Day, 2002. He lives just outside of the Oasis in Marge, a motorhome he rescued from a blackberry bush in Oregon. Mike is the lucky owner of a Cruzin Cooler. It's quite amazing and the envy of...well, me. Mike became our go-to person for advice, directions, information, and all-round companionship. We traded beers and stories and just really loved getting to know him. He even made us honorary members of the Oasis Club (we couldn't afford the dues), so we ended up spending time there often, doing dishes for meals and coffee.
A note on the Scrabble playing. Several guys get together often to play, drink, smoke, and give each other a hard time. I didn't have the opportunity to play, but Kenny did and was blown away at the skill level. They have Scrabble dictionaries, and a Scrabble binder with tips and rules. Almost every turn any given player could lay all 7 tiles down to make a word, both vertically and horizontally. Kenny played 2 games, lasting 3 hours at least, with scores well over 300. Crazy talk.
We also met a couple of brothers from Virgina, Ryan and Matthew Corson. Ryan showed up the same night we did, and Kenny met him at the community bulletin board. Ryan drove across country to check out Salvation Mountain, and loved it so much that he called his brother and told him to fly to San Diego to join him. They spent their days helping Leonard at the Mountain, but often came over to our camp to join us for meals or just hang out.
