Hiking the Coachella Valley Preserve

October could easily contend for the perfect-month award here in the Palm Springs desert. If not for the month-long reseeding of lawns and golf courses—and the attendant ubiquity of forlorn expanses of brown—the days and evenings are pitch-perfect for eating and entertaining al fresco, enjoying the garden, not worrying about finding a shady spot for your car, and watching the pets savor the bucolic mornings. When I read about the nascent winter weather encroaching on other states, I remind myself how lucky I am to live in this unique paradise.

It's the optimal time to hike the myriad trails throughout the 60-mile Coachella Valley and so I don my dusty hiking boots and heed the clarion call of my group's ringleader, Sue Cook, aka, The Energizer Bunny. In the past week, I've risen pre-dawn and hiked thrice with Sue and Mary Pat Anderson, another stalwart member of our small hiking group. Sue and Mary Pat are good friends and Windermere La Quinta colleagues so a healthy dose of real estate chatter punctuates every hike's conversation.

This is our group's third hiking year and we commenced the new season with explorations of the 13,000-acre Coachella Valley Preserve on the east end of the valley north of the 10 freeway. The trail system here is designated easy, marked by low hills, washes and gentle canyons. Even though they're not arduous, my knees and ankles haven't borne up as well as expected and I'm still chagrined about the resultant aches.

The first trail we tackled last week was the Pushawalla Palms Trail, a 6-mile loop that we abbreviated a bit because of time constraints. It affords a magnificent view of the sweeping Preserve and several oases of California fan palms which pop up quite unexpectedly in the canyons.  There are more than 1,200 palms dotted throughout the Preserve, rising majestically from the alluvial gravel and sand deposits from the nearby Little San Bernadino Mountains and Indio Hills. The infamous San Andreas Fault bisects the Coachella Valley and it is the deep-water seepage encouraged by this great fissure that nourishes all the palm trees. The scenic dichotomy of green trees and gray scrub never ceases to amaze.

Rose-tinged Santa Rosa Mountains in the background.

Several of the palm groves bore horrendous scars from fire—trunks completely blackened—curious since it seems the desert terrain offers scant fuel to feed any kind of blaze. Few of the trees succumbed; most grow vigorously. Nature unbowed.

Here is a shot of Willis Palms, an oasis we visited on our second hike on the West Mesa Trail. The cerulean sky was shot through with blinding-white clouds. I really like this photo and may have to add it to my new website homepage.

Yesterday's hike to the Canyon Trail was our longest hike to date and I love the the photos I took as we march eastward toward the rising sun.

Atop Bee-Rock Mesa, you look down to Horseshoe Palms, a narrow ribbon of fan palms hugging the mountain base. We crested the mountain then circled way out to the flat mesa beyond the oasis and back again westward to visit a few more palm groves.

The California fan pan tree—Washingtonia Filifera—is the only species of palm tree native to California and was instrumental in the lives of the Cahuilla Indians who relied on it for food, shelter and tools. A mature tree with full "skirt" of rustling fronds delights all the senses.

Hidden in a small canyon is a gem of an oasis, Hidden Palms.

I am choosing the next hike and am assiduously perusing my bible, Philip Ferranti's 140 Great Hikes in and near Palm Springs!