Day One: Joshua Tree National Park

Elizabeth Ashton Brewer
Oct 18, 2018
4 min read

Day one,

Scared to death to be traveling alone again, I jumped in my car on Monday in Arizona with the one suitcase I lived out of for over a year in Brazil, a sleeping bag from my friend Yu Sun, a pillow, and a lunch he had prepared for me; Bok Choy, rice, and pot stickers. I took a deep breath and revved my engine.

I had only driven two hours at a time before this trip. Phoenix to Tucson and that was it. My plan for day one was to visit Joshua Tree National Park and then drive to Santa Monica to spend the night with my girlfriend Janine.

Three hours hit, and I could not drive anymore. I bought munchies, and popcorn, and ate and ate and ate to stay awake. What the heck was I thinking? 'I can't drive more than 3 hours, how in the world am I supposed to drive over 40 on this trip? I have lost my mind'.

I barely made it to Joshua Tree National Park and when I did, I arrived at the visitors center and couldn't even walk in. I collapsed in my car, slumped down and admitted to defeat. I was prepared to sleep here and turn back around. Seriously, 'what the heck was I thinking?'

There were ten minutes left of the visitor hours and I barely made it out of my car and into the center.

Stumbling in, the park ranger looked me in the eyes. I started to cry.

So many emotions came washing over me. To get here I had passed through the neighborhood of my high school sweetheart and first love, who passed away years ago. My last moments in Tucson, my second love who became my family for 6 years, dropped off what was left of my personal and families belongings at the doorstep, and here I am back in America after surviving disgusting abuse in Brazil that haunts me every day. 'Who was I to think I could heal myself by driving into the middle of nowhere.' The tears wouldn't stop.

The park ranger asked me if I was ok and I answered honestly, "no," and surprisingly enough smiled, so grateful for his kindness. He told me to go sleep at cottonwood campground about a mile away. He asked if there was anything he could do for me, and I told him, "you already have".

Not prepared to drive yet, I wandered around a path circling the visitor center bawling my eyes out. As I tried to read through tears the names of all the plants that were labeled, a female park ranger found me. She gave me her number and told me if I was still around the next day, she would love to treat me to a drink. I never told her I don't drink alcohol, but knew it wasn't necessary. I was sure I would be turning back around in the morning. She too asked me if there was anything she could do for me and gave me the warmest hug I will never forget.

Here I was with no service, feelings of complete isolation as I had felt in Brazil began to panic me. I was crying so hard I couldn't even see the road.

Through squinted eyes, I saw a group of people camped at the campground. I had no idea what I was doing, or what on earth I was going to do.

I parked, got out of my car with my yoga mat, found a spot near the campsite and just laid down. I always would tell my students, "In order to heal first you must feel." That truth is a real pain in the ass.

I could sure feel, EVERYTHING.

A sweet young woman came over to me. Immediately, I felt safe. She introduced her group comprised of a meditation teacher and certified naturalist, a chef (who calls himself a Jedi), and youth leaders to me. Listening to my body, I knew this group of humans were safe. They made me dinner, and invited me to story time with the children they were leading. I remember looking at the story tellers water bottle that had a sticker on it that said, 'Breakfast'. We watched the stars and had deep meaningful conversations about the world and consciousness. I knew I was exactly where I needed to be.

I mentioned my impossible 'plans' to camp all the way along the coast of California, hitting Pismo Beach, Big Sur, do my laundry in San Jose at my friend Dustin's, sleep under the stars in Yosemite National Park, cross into Nevada and Death Valley National Park, then head to Utah and Zion National Park, finishing in the Grand Canyon, back to Tucson Arizona in 14 days.

"What an exciting Trip" the 'Jedi 'said. I giggled knowing full well I would not survive. I did not have a plan, the right clothes, the right gear, or any gear to be completely honest. I was just a girl with hope in her heart and a mission to...well I didn't quite know at this point, because I sure as heck wasn't going to make it.

The meditation teacher and certified naturalist named Christopher gave me warm blankets and a lantern. "You know," he said, "Before you hit Pismo Beach, you will pass by Santa Barbara and my favorite studio called Yoga Soup."

'Maybe I could just make it to Santa Barbara,' I thought.

I spent my first night sleeping at Cottonwood Campground.

I entered the park feeling completely isolated and instead found the deepest connection.