Topline:
In the shadow of last month's York Fire in California's Mojave National Preserve, almost nothing is left amid the rocks and sand, except the charred carcasses of Mojave yuccas, Joshua trees, and chollas.
What's next: Scientists are not waiting to see what the desert becomes. They're actively intervening with an ambitious years-long project to replant some 4,000 Joshua trees at Cima Dome.
Keep reading... for details on the efforts so far and how you can participate.
"The Country since leaving the Colorado has been a dry rocky sandy Barren desert." – Jedediah Smith, 1826.
Early western explorers who ventured into the Mojave Desert, like Jedediah Smith, often mischaracterized it as a barren landscape, devoid of life.
Yet a closer inspection of these sweeping landscapes reveals soil-hugging carpets of springtime flowers, native grasses and fragrant shrubs, alongside the more obvious cacti and succulents.
Where the desert lives up to its stereotype is after a wildfire.
In the shadow of last month's York Fire in California's Mojave National Preserve, almost nothing is left amid the rocks and sand, except the charred carcasses of Mojave yuccas, Joshua trees, and chollas. The soil is a mottled brown and black, and some plants have been reduced to mere silhouettes of char on the ground.
The moonscape is the result of a fire that burned quickly and widely, engulfing roughly 130 square miles of the preserve – including picturesque Caruthers Canyon, a boulder-strewn spot popular with campers.
"Caruthers Canyon is the prettiest place we had. It was a beautiful little pinyon-juniper forest up there," says Debra Hughson, who is the preserve's deputy superintendent. "When the pinyon-juniper burns, it doesn't come back. Not in my lifetime. Not in your lifetime. Maybe never."
This latest wildfire comes as a reminder of the unpredictable future facing some of the desert's most iconic residents. Warmer, drier temperatures are already stressing the preserve's spindly Joshua trees. Models predict those warming trends will leave Joshua trees with fewer suitable places to live. Scroll forward in time, Hughson says, and their range shrinks: "It melts like an ice cube on a hot sidewalk." On top of that, in recent years wide-ranging wildfires are also pushing the succulents into greater peril.
"They're already living on the edge," Hughson says. "What we're doing here globally is we're cranking up the temperature, and here we're also cranking down the rainfall, the precipitation." Joshua trees, she explains, are having a hard time keeping up with such swift climate changes. "Then you get a major stressor like this, that just erases the chalkboard."
What she means is the park's dense Joshua tree forests may never come back after a fire. A grassy savannah might rise up to replace them, with a few Joshua trees scattered throughout as a reminder of what once was.
Nowhere is that potential future on greater display than along Morning Star Mine Road, which cuts across the northern reaches of the preserve. On one side of the road there is a Joshua tree forest so dense it looks like a green wall at a distance, with a rich understory of drab greenish-gray bushes. On the other side there's a graveyard of blackened Joshua trees with sun-bleached buds. The ground is mostly bare, aside from patches of grass, and the color palette is black, white and shades of tan.
The road was a firebreak during the 2020 Dome Fire. Flames destroyed an estimated 1.3 million Joshua trees on Cima Dome, an area that was once the park's grandest example of dense Joshua tree woodland. The area's relatively high elevation was supposed to serve as a sort of sanctuary – a climate refuge where Joshua trees could continue to thrive amid hotter, drier conditions elsewhere in their range. Then, the fire came – an unexpected destabilizing force that casts that long-term trajectory into question.
Hughson trained as a geologist. She talks about the future of the Joshua tree and what might happen at Cima Dome as if she still assesses these seismic ecological changes at the tempo of geologic time. "In the end," she says, "the desert is going to tell us what it's going to be and it's going to show us what it's going to be."
Scientists are not waiting to see what the desert becomes. They're actively intervening with an ambitious years-long project to replant some 4,000 Joshua trees at Cima Dome.
Biological science technician Erin Knight walks through a graveyard of dead Joshua trees, near the remains of an old cattle operation called Valley View Ranch. Some of the plants have toppled to the ground. Others still stand, but they're falling to pieces; the branches that once stretched up to the sky now dangle and sway eerily in the desert wind.
"Kind of our own little chandelier here in the desert," Knight jokes.
Small chicken wire cages are scattered throughout the grove. This is where volunteers have planted baby Joshua trees, in hopes of resurrecting the century-old giants that perished here. Knight crouches down near one of the cages, and checks a numbered tag.
She says this seedling was planted on Nov. 6 last year, and a volunteer named it Bratislava — the capital of Slovakia. Unfortunately, this one's dead, as are many others at this site. In fact, in the two years this project's been underway, 80% of the roughly 1,900 Joshua trees planted in the burn scar of the Dome Fire have died.
"Unfortunately, restoring Joshua trees is more of an art than a science, and sometimes it works out really well and sometimes it doesn't," Hughson says. Some of the baby Joshua trees have been eaten, especially those without a cage. Others die of thirst, though volunteers and scientists at the preserve make their best efforts to water the baby seedlings.
"There's been hundreds and hundreds of volunteers that have participated. We even had a camel train packing water into these," Hughson says. Restoration work in the desert, she explains, is not for the faint of heart.
"It's a tale of failed experiments," Hughson says. "Go look at the literature on restoration in the desert, especially the Mojave Desert. And OK, 'Well, this didn't work.' Another paper on, 'Well, that didn't work.' 'OK, well, we tried this, and we failed miserably.' And the stories of success are very rare."
Still, hundreds of these Joshua tree seedlings have survived. Knight's colleague Ryan McRae found one nearby. It's only a few inches tall, and looks like the top of a baby pineapple. Knight looks up its name, and says it's called "Lychee."
It's still tiny, and McRae points out one of the huge challenges of restoring a forest with two-inch-tall seedlings. "These Joshua trees only grow about 1.5 to 2 inches per year. So if you can imagine a 10-foot-tall tree or so, you can get an idea of how many years or decades it would take to get to that height." At a conservative 1.5 inches per year – it would take at least 80 years to return this area back to the way it was before the fire.
"We probably won't see it in any of our lives," Knight says.
Kelso is an old railroad town in another corner of the park near a giant field of sand dunes. Behind a 1920s schoolhouse, there's a small beige building with two bright teal doors reading BOYS and GIRLS. There's no sign from the outside, but the GIRLS room is now a makeshift field lab.
"This is our seed lab," says Christina Sanchez, a seed technician. "This is where we're sorting all of the Joshua tree seeds, and where we store them before they go to the nursery." The nursery is a facility near Lake Mead, where rows of pots contain baby Joshua tree sprouts, ready to be transplanted into the wild.
Sanchez pulls over a big bucket, full of cream-colored Joshua tree fruits she and her team have collected. She takes one out and shakes it: "Sounds like a little rattle," she says. The seeds are about the size of roma tomatoes, but they're brittle and hard. She breaks one open with a crack, and reveals the black hockey-puck-like seeds inside.
A curious contraption that looks like a cross between an ant farm and a pinball machine hooks up to a shop vac blower. It's a seed cleaning machine, and when Sanchez switches on the blower, the seeds flutter through the chutes inside.
From here, she'll dump the viable seeds into big jars, labeled with the collection site, and put them in a big chest freezer. The freezer is already half full of jars brimming with some 300,000 Joshua tree seeds.
"This is the future of the species," Sanchez says. "This deep freezer here, this is holding our future."
Many of the Joshua tree seedlings planted so far have died, raising the question whether collecting and storing seeds is a gesture of hope.
"We're going to lose a species if we don't try," she says. "We just gotta keep trying."
Debra Hughson acknowledges that the replanting effort is just a "drop in the ocean," given the massive losses of Joshua trees here in recent years. "That's a few hundred we've managed, in a landscape that had 1.3 million," she says. "So you can do the math."
Numbers aside, Hughson expresses skepticism that people really have much of a role in "rebuilding" wilderness. "I don't think that wilderness areas can be built. They can be designated, but nature created it," she says. "We seem to be capable of destroying it ... but we can't create something that we don't really even understand."
Even so, the replanting project continues in October. The goal is to get 2,000 more Joshua trees in the ground over the next two years, and as before, the preserve is relying on wilderness-savvy volunteers. That human aspect, Hughson says, might be one of the most compelling reasons to do what seems very difficult, if not near impossible, on an ecological scale.
"It makes us feel better. You know, psychologically, there were a lot of people that got a lot of good feelings and satisfaction from helping with the Joshua tree planting," she says. "And to try to help makes you feel better about yourself and more hopeful about the future. And that in itself is a valuable thing."
Volunteers are needed to plant Joshua trees on weekends this October.
Park officials say to participate you need to have
Sign up form: October 2023 Cima Dome Joshua Tree Planting
Topline:
A vibrant sunset framed by clouds was visible across Los Angeles yesterday. Atmospheric conditions might have something to do with it.
The backstory: The high clouds yesterday were likely related to Hurricane Odalys, which was downgraded to a tropical storm Sunday. “We were getting some high-based tropical moisture coming in far away from the center of the storm,” Robbie Munroe, meteorologist with the National Weather Service, said.
What's next: High clouds are expected to stick around through at least today according to the National Weather Service, which could make for another picturesque sunset.
Angelenos looking up Saturday may have noticed a particularly striking sight — a vibrant sunset framed by clouds.
Tropical moisture coming in far away from off the coast could explain it.
“One thing that might have played a role in making it look awfully nice yesterday was those high clouds that were moving in.” Robert Munroe, meteorologist with the National Weather Service, said. “The way the sun was hitting the high clouds made some bright yellows and oranges in the sky. That moisture is actually related to probably mostly Odalys.”
Odalys as in the hurricane (since downgraded to a tropical storm) churning off the coast of Mexico, along with Hurricane Polo.
Neither are expected to make landfall here, but they're forecast to bring high surf, dangerous rip tides and potential flooding to coastlines already battered this month by Hurricane Marie.
The bright side is Munroe said those high clouds from yesterday will be sticking around through at least today, which could make for another pretty sunset this evening.
Topline:
An earthquake with a magnitude of 3.6 struck near Hermosa Beach, and it was reported as being felt as far off as Oxnard.
Keep reading ... for more on what we know for now.
An earthquake with a magnitude of 3.6 struck off the South Bay at about 8:40 a.m. and was reported as being felt as far as Oxnard.
The U.S. Geological Survey says it was centered about four miles west-southwest of Hermosa Beach. More than 1,500 people reported feeling it within the first hour after it struck. [You can report what you felt to the USGS.]
No significant damage has been reported, which is typical at this low of a magnitude.
The quake was below the threshold of 4.0 magnitude that triggers an alert on the ShakeAlert app.
We don't want to scare you, but the Big One is coming. We don't know when, but we know it'll be at least 44 times stronger than Northridge and 11 times stronger than the Ridgecrest quakes in 2019. To help you get prepared, we've compiled a handy reading list:
Topline:
Compás Discoteca, a four-person DJ collective, fosters community and connections with eclectic live vinyl mixing at restaurants in and near the Inland Empire.
The backstory: Ricardo Carlos, Elias Ruiz, Albert Piña and Adrian Silva have been friends for about two decades. They all DJ as a hobby and often share music. The crew decided to form the collective after seeing what they thought of as a "sign" in 2024.
On a Sunday night at the Mexican restaurant La Popular in Claremont, diners are eating to a soundtrack that starts with cumbia and jumps to J Balvin and Bad Bunny before landing on Luther Vandross.
That’s the aim of DJ collective Compás Discoteca — to bring connection and community through live vinyl mixing at La Popular and El Balcon in Ontario.
Ricardo Carlos, Elias Ruiz, Albert Piña and Adrian Silva have been friends for about two decades. They all DJ as a hobby and often share music. On a night out in 2024, they saw a sign: a parking space for a “compact car,” minus two letters.
“The C and T are missing — compá. Like, ‘We're compás,’” Carlos said, recounting that night.
Their DJ collective, Compás Discoteca, was born. “Compás” means “buddies” in Spanish and “Discoteca” means “nightclub."
When Compás Discoteca first formed, the members said Southern California’s vinyl-listening scene was more focused on track selection, letting songs play out in full. The collective wanted to bring more life to the experience by mixing music live.
“It just seemed a little stale,” Silva said. “I feel like we helped to bring some seasoning to that.”
They also wanted to play genres people wouldn’t normally hear together.
“You might hear us jump from funk to cumbia to hip-hop to disco, soul to house. We're just trying to take people on a journey with us,” Silva said.
Each compá takes their turn at the turntables for two 30-minute sets. And each brings their own sound.
Silva is the “party-starter.” He gets people dancing.
Carlos has a Latin bent, taking influence from his Puerto Rican, Salvadoran and Creole roots.
Ruiz lives for “jaw-drop moments” and brings records he thinks will surprise his fellow DJs.
Piña spins rare world grooves in the funk and boogie vein.
“He probably gets the most Shazams from us and from the audience,” Ruiz said of Piña. “But most importantly, you feel like you're hanging out and with some good music.”
Compás Discoteca DJs at El Balcon in Ontario on the first Friday of each month and at La Popular in Claremont on the third Sunday.
The vibes for Sundays are chill, they said, and Fridays are for letting it all loose.
“There's like an energy there, like, ‘Oh, man, we made it through the week.’ We try to feed off of that,” Piña said.
Compás Discoteca DJs at El Balcon (200 N. Euclid Ave., Unit C, Ontario) on the first Friday of each month and at La Popular (235 N. Yale Ave., Claremont) on the third Sunday.
Topline:
Joshua Tree has quirk, character and plenty of nature. Since 2024, it also has real New York-style bagels.
How? These bagels are courtesy of 29 Loaves, a home bakery operated by DIY baker and through-and-through New Yorker Richard Lee.
Read on… to find out what distinguishes a New York-style bagel from lesser ones, according to Lee, and how he learned to make his.
Along Highway 62 in Joshua Tree, a stack of high school lockers holds something the High Desert was missing: a real New York-style bagel.
For that, you have DIY baker Richard Lee to thank.
“I want a bagel. What do I do?” Lee remembered thinking after moving to Twentynine Palms in 2023 from Los Angeles, where he had lived for more than a decade.
It wasn’t just any bagel the born-and-raised New Yorker was craving, but the kind from back home that gives “a little crunch” when you bite into its crust — with a “chewy, softer” inside and a taste Lee calls “ineffable.”
“Like maybe a sourdough or an Italian bread,” he said.
A tinkerer by nature, Lee launched 29 Loaves in early 2024, bringing bagels he handcrafts in his licensed home operation to Twentynine Palms, Joshua Tree and surrounding communities.
“I went to the culinary school of YouTube,” he said, having watched more than 100 videos on how to make a bagel. At first, he relied on his own taste buds as a guide, before sending his creations to his family in New York to taste.
After months of overnight shipping, Lee said, “Even a UPS store is asking me, ‘Why are you doing that?’”
“I know it makes no sense,” he told them. “That's how I operate.”
Eventually, his sister gave the thumbs-up. To be extra, extra, extra sure, Lee went to folks living in the desert with New York ties to get their blessing.
“Attention is an ingredient,” Lee said of his bagels. It’s a philosophy he’s honed while running his other business providing IT services, which he now operates remotely.
“Garbage in, garbage out,” he said. “If you make a mistake or something falls on the bagel and marks it, it’ll end up that way as a finished product.”
Lee, whose father is Korean and mother is Brazilian, said his bakery is ultimately about food memories — and draws inspiration from what he ate growing up. The only other baked good 29 Loaves sells is pão de queijo, a gluten-free Brazilian cheese puff he makes.
But nothing rivals bagels. Sundays were often bagel days in his childhood home in the Long Island suburbs. As a teenager working for his father, Lee remembered they would make detours off the Long Island Expressway to grab fresh bagels.
“They were nice and plump, and they were so hot,” he said.
Father and son would eat them straight out of the bag — no cream cheese, no nothing.
“Those were the types of memories that I wanna bring here,” Lee said.
You can find 29 Loaves bagels in select cafes and markets in desert communities, including Indian Wells, Palm Desert and Pioneertown. Lee himself delivers orders within Twentynine Palms and Joshua Tree.
For a 24/7 hankering, there’s The Bagel Portal, at 61877 29 Palms Highway, Joshua Tree — look for a stack of lockers under a wooden A-frame in the parking lot facing the highway. You’ll get a combination code after making a purchase.
Go to the website to order.
