A Quick Study of Joshua Tree’s Wild Side

Joshua Tree National Park —  The line of hikers snaked up the side of the mountain, everyone cautiously following the leader over rugged, rocky terrain. It reminded me of a fourth-grade field trip, but Mrs. Brennan’s class was never like this.

“Dar, did you see this one?” a hiker called out, pointing at the ground.

“No, let me look,” ranger Dar Spearing replied, hurrying back down the mountain to the hiker’s side and crouching on the ground with an intent expression on his face. “Oh, I’m so glad you pointed that out,” he said. “Those are Canterbury bells. Aren’t they a wonderful color?”

The hikers clustered around him for a look at the flowers -- delicate, deep blue blossoms that were an incongruous sight in the parched, boulder-strewn landscape. There were a few ahs and camera clicks, and then we were off again, in search of other mountainside surprises.

“Wildflower Wanderings: The Beauty of Spring Blooms” was our Saturday class. It was among 21 weekend field courses scheduled this spring by the Desert Institute, an arm of the nonprofit Joshua Tree National Park Assn.

Friends Ted and Dorothy joined me two weeks ago for the class, which began with a three-mile morning hike to Fortynine Palms Oasis at the northern edge of Joshua Tree National Park. Like most everyone in our group, we hoped to see carpets of flowers. It wasn’t to be.

“We keep having photographers call and ask if it’s happened yet -- if the flowers are out,” said Isabel Erickson, a park volunteer who helped coordinate the class. “We say, ‘Well, if you look hard, you’ll find them.’ ”

Despite the drenching the Los Angeles area received a few weeks ago, the desert hasn’t had enough rain to fuel a bumper crop of wildflowers.

Even without the rain, flower seekers who look closely can see spots of color in tiny cracks in rocks, nestled along the side of a wash, in nooks and crannies along the trail. Bright yellow bladderpod, tiny white desert pincushion, giant red ocotillo.

Spearing was a font of energy, bounding along the trail and telling us about Joshua Tree’s harsh environment and the plants and animals that live there.

Besides the plants, we saw chuckwallas and lizards, ravens and kangaroo rats.

“Over there! Over there!” one classmate yelled excitedly as we rounded a turn. “What’s that black-headed lizard?”

“A black-headed lizard,” Spearing said matter-of-factly. Everyone laughed.

Our class ($45 a person) was completed in one day, but many Desert Institute programs are two or three days. Remaining spring classes, which run through May 18, cover topics such as desert photography, reptiles and amphibians, and edible plants. More classes are planned for the fall semester.

After six hours of hiking and flower prowling, we were glad we had made reservations at a small inn in the town of Joshua Tree. We had heard good things about Spin and Margie’s Desert Hide-a-Way. Funky, someone said. Eclectic, someone else said. It is both, with a little Santa Fe, a little Morocco, a little Mexico and a slice of ‘50s memorabilia to round things out.

“We keep doing new things and surprising ourselves at the result,” said Mindy Kaufman (Margie), who owns the Hide-a-Way with husband Drew Reese (Spin). The couple, who opened the inn 2 1/2 years ago, calls the mix Joshua Tree style.

The Hide-a-Way has only four suites, each with kitchen or kitchenette, and nightly rates from $105 to $140, double occupancy. Because the inn was full, Ted, Dorothy and I ended up sharing a suite ($125 plus $25 for a third person). But it had three rooms with beds -- or couches that converted into beds -- so it worked. We found Mexican serapes on the floor, African-print curtains on the windows and walls of burnt orange, teal and gold. The floor was dark blue. Among the thoughtful touches: thick towels in the bathroom, a selection of tapes stacked next to the VCR, plump down comforters on the beds, firewood laid and ready to be lighted in the inner courtyard.

We left the fire for later and went in search of dinner at the Royal Siam, a Thai restaurant in a strip mall in Joshua Tree.

The national park, with its tortured landscape of jumbled rocks, is a magnet for rock climbers. Royal Siam turned out to be the place they go to plan the next day’s climb.

The restaurant decor was a hodgepodge, but no one seemed to care. The 12 tables were full. Around us whizzed talk of notches, walls and chimneys as the climbers carbo-loaded on noodles and rice. Carbs weren’t the only popular feature: The Royal Siam has a $7.95 eat-all-you-want buffet Friday and Saturday nights. The drawback? The restaurant was so busy that the buffet kept running low.

Back at the Hide-a-Way, we lighted the fire, stared at the stars and enjoyed the quiet. The next morning I roamed the 3-acre grounds. Reese had landscaped with saguaros, prickly pears and beavertails. A pond occupied one corner. Another guest was reading at a picnic table. He looked up as I drew near.

“Cute,” I said.

“That’s what I said when I came out here this morning,” he said. “This place is cute, even though I hate to use that word.”

My friends and I gathered our things and drove back into Joshua Tree for breakfast at the Crossroads Cafe & Tavern. Its owners renovated this once-rundown bar into a cafe with rough-hewn wood walls, Southwestern decor and an interesting menu that draws lots of climbers. Our breakfast, eggs and French toast, left us full and happy.

By this time we had heard so much about hiking routes that we wanted to try some ourselves. We entered the park and drove to Hidden Valley. It has an easy (but not wheelchair accessible) mile-long loop trail that skirts popular rock formations with names such as the Great Burrito and the Sentinel. Each looks like the work of a crazed stonemason -- huge rock piles with fractured joints wedged against one another. We could hear climbers’ voices echoing off the granite and spotted them occasionally hanging off a high wall.

We rambled along the trail, enjoying the scenery and delighting in each new wildflower we spotted. Conquering rock piles must be nice. But appreciating wildflowers has its pleasures too.

Rosemary McClure is an editor in the Travel section.