1/30/10: Slab City-Leonard & Salvation Mountain

Salvation Mountain

One of the first things to learn about "The Slabs" is its primitive clock. With no electricity beyond an occasional car-battery contraption or gas generator, there's little to do past sunset other than sit around a fire drinking beer. While I personally approve of such enriching activities, beer costs money- meaning people are usually in bed EARLY. In fact, Kevin claimed to be in bed often as early as 6 or 7, and up with the sun.

The Bunker

Adam, Melissa, and Jefe awoke early Saturday morning for a trip to the nearby hot springs. Even this is fascinating at Slab City. It apparently flows, preventing the water from stagnating and allowing the springs to be used as a 105-degree natural, communal bath tub! Other than paying $8 to rent a room in Niland for 30-minutes, or hopping in the nearby canal, this is the only way those not living in an RV can bathe. Jefe assumed that everyone jumped in the hot springs wearing their boxers. Jefe assumed wrong. Jefe was ambushed by a full frontal-nudity assault! It remains unclear as to whether he returned fire.

Chris and I awoke shortly after they returned. Adam & Melissa had since made their way to Salvation Mountain to begin toiling with Leonard and Chris wasn't far behind. Jefe and I took our time before walking over ourselves to see this obnoxious-religious-display yet world-famous piece of Americana. I had no intention whatsoever of volunteering my time to restore Leonard's art, yet couldn't articulate why. Something about all the volunteers just rubbed me the wrong way. Dedicating a couple hours out of one day to help out a decrepit old Slabber seemed like a decent thing to do, but there was something commercial about it; it smelled like the Red Cross to me. It wouldn't gel for a few more days; this was 2010's first "forest through the trees." Aww.

After finding Chris pushing a broom, we took our own separate little impromptu tours. I feel safe in saying that Jefe is not quite a Christian man. His visible reaction to this tribute to "God's Love" swung regularly between amazement and amusement! He had a mostly-silent permagrin on his face, and not due to receiving the Holy Spirit. I met Leonard briefly, and was rather surprised to get the same, "people just been loving me from all over the world" line we all heard in the movie. This struck me as a talking point, and rather than engage him personally I subconsciously chose to just watch him interact with the people around us.

I eventually saw what Leonard refers to as the "Into the Wild Room." This struck me as odd, disconnected, and quite a bit "Carthage." At the same time Sean Penn was filming his movie, filmmaker Ron LaMothe was shooting his Chris McCandless documentary, Call of the Wild. LaMothe took a much different approach, challenging many aspects and claims put forth in the book/ movie. One of the scenes in LaMothe's 2007 documentary (presumably before Penn's crew arrived) shows Leonard Knight having no personal recollection of Chris McCandless referring to him (11-years after the book was released) as, "that kid who went to Alaska and died in a van." Through the use of outtake footage, Penn's movie makes it appear as though Leonard had some sort of bonding experience with McCandless. Obviously, he didn't. Or, at least not enough of an impression to even remember him 14-years later.

What does this matter? It wouldn't in a world where horse-blind idealists were interested in critical thought. However, Leonard Knight- while appearing to be a half-crazed, uneducated, possibly learning impaired backwoods rube- has profited nicely from this inferred relationship. Like Alaska and the "Magic Bus," the story has sent flocks of McCandless Cultists into the Mojave Desert with Leonard as a primary attraction. Parched by a thirst for idealism, but drowning in Hollywood glitz, they gush at the old man as, someone who actually KNEW McCandless and is accessible.

But, not actually REMEMBERING McCandless, the idea that Leonard would build an "Into the Wild Room" into this project- his legacy; his ART- supposedly inspired by a vision from God, is baffling considering he likely never met the kid. Baffling that is... until you see the flow of traffic into the place! It's a bonafide tourist attraction with Largest Ball of Twine status! And, half of the attraction is Leonard himself! Because of his homeless, pauper image people steadily bring him food, water... and money. In fact, I personally saw all of these given, repeatedly, in the short hour I was there!

The most memorable was a group of college-aged girls who looked upon Leonard with an awe typically reserved for rock stars. They said their hellos and immediately announced that they had brought him a load of canned food... enough so it would be more efficient to move the car, rather than carry it! I envisioned a dorm room viewing of Into the Wild followed by, "He actually knew Chris, and what he's doing is amaaaaaazing! We should take him Spam!" I saw several people pony up hard cash, and have since discovered that there's even a website saying, "Donations are accepted only if it comes from the heart." I'm going to add that line to my PayPal link. God Bless!

Someone later implied how much he suspects Leonard makes from the Mountain when he pointed out that he's been targeted by thieves over and over again, and that he's having to watch one person in particular even now. Thieves talk. Another Slabber made an interesting point when he implied that Leonard rakes in hundreds of dollars per day: if he's such a man of God, why no ministry or charitable foundation with the money? Why not do SOMETHING with it? To be fair, there was a not-so-subtle tone of jealousy in his voice but the common thread remains: Leonard is NOT hurting for money. That was driven home even as we left that day and a volunteer implored us to take water or food saying, "we have more than we know what to do with." I thought of that particular woman on my way out of the Slabs for good... hitching a ride in a van full of kids going to Niland to sign up for "government cheese."

Of course, there's a flip side to this story. I later learned that Imperial County AND the State of California both wanted to kick all the squatters off of the Slabs years ago. What prevented that from happening was 1.) Slabber's injecting money into Niland's quadriplegic, methhead-deathbed economy and, 2) the money Salvation Mountain tourists bring to Niland. I had assumed Niland viewed Slab City as a boyle on the community's ass. To the contrary. Slab City's residents spending money in town is literally the only thing keeping it afloat. The old military base still generates money!

I honestly don't know what to think of Leonard Knight or Salvation Mountain other than it's an impressive piece of art built by an impressively tenacious individual. I do respect the fact that he's invented a way of life for himself, and that obviously sprang from a vision that he likely couldn't himself explain.

These days, by most accounts the behind the scenes Leonard is ornery, cantankerous and, as one close associate put it, "just an asshole." This is a far cry from the gregarious, happy image presented for public consumption. It reminds me of dealing with the multiple personalities of media divas! I would have liked to have met Leonard 25-years ago before pop-culture and the folk art scene got wind of him. It occurs to me that the Bible's "Camel Verse" may indeed apply to more than just monetary wealth; perhaps it's yet another indictment of success and the ego as well?

Meeting Leonard did reinforce the idea that personal "greatness" is a concocted Crock o' Shit. I don't believe anyone is any "greater" than anyone else. The difference may lie in the willingness to get off one's ass and follow a vision, and not be crippled by fear. Maybe in that sense Leonard deserves their money; perhaps they pay him (and others like him) to compensate for what they're too afraid or too lazy to do themselves?

El Jefe Diablo Blasphemer?

I won't bother with more religious/ commercial connotations, although I did see a 1993 LA Times article referring to Leonard as John the Baptist in the Desert! Do you suppose that generated some money? If there's one thing I've learned from other hitchers and the few panhandlers I've chosen to engage, "God on Cardboard" is the money-magnet waved over the wallet of the self-professed self-righteous.

BONUS PRICELESS ADVICE! NEVER give ANYTHING to ANYONE invoking the words "God Bless", "Blessings", or "Homeless Vet!" They're buzz phrases, like politicians exploiting child safety or advertisers shouting "Two Day Event" or "Breaking News."

1/29/10: Slab City, CA

El Jefe and I finally hit the road for California's Imperial Valley in the early afternoon. Five-hours later, after leaving Quartzsite, the Colorado River, Blythe, and 20-foot cacti behind, we were treated to a stunning I-10 descent into the Imperial Valley and Indio/ Coachella, before hugging the eastern shore of the Salton Sea to the scuttled settlement of Niland... home to Slab City.

The Imperial Valley from Above

The Salton Sea

Slab City is difficult to describe to someone with no frame of reference. It's nearly impossible to explain to the institutionalized. It was futile for me to tell Jefe what to expect, since I wasn't exactly sure myself beyond common basics. Slabbers often describe it as the "last free place in Amerika." They leave the term "free" intentionally ambiguous, but I quickly learned that it's "free" in both rent and state-of-mind. It's the real, unfiltered and raw freedom of The Jungle: with a definite sense of self-responsibility/ determination. The Zoo's caretakers are absent; there's no one to tend to you, your shit, or anything. There's no one to pay to do it, either. There are no utilities. No running water. No sanitation. No amenities of any kind... unless you consider empty concrete WWII-era training-bunkers an "amenity." In the Mojave they're a luxury; ones to be arranged for and reserved!

Coming in, I knew that primarily RVers occupy this abandoned Navy base in the winter months, biding time until the weather up north becomes tolerable... and the desert turns into a 120-degree summer furnace. I also expected a large degree of old-west lawlessness and was prepared to find everything from Rainbow types to fugitives on the run. The opportunity to see this mix of half-million dollar RV's & Mickey & Mallory Knox greatly appealed to me! I was curious to see if a collection of people could coexist in an unregulated, unmonitored environment. Or, whether the "regulated monitoring"/ expectations & separateness would prove to be the source of the any "expected clash." Was the common thread here something other than collecting wealth? Was wealth even a factor at the "Last free place in Amerika?" How, or would people organize themselves? What would this relatively primal, organic community look like?

I received a text from Chris late Thursday afternoon saying he had already arrived, met some people, and was helping Leonard Knight repair Salvation Mountain which was damaged in the storms of the week before. Leonard's at least in his late 70's, has been a Slabber since 1984, and become a kind of face of Slab City because of his now-famous tribute to "God's Love" standing as the unofficial gateway. He and his "Mountain" have been in various documentaries, and Chris and I were introduced to him the same as most folks over the past few years: Into the Wild. Since Jefe and I arrived later than expected, we'd have to wait until Saturday to meet Leonard and see his folk art icon.

Jefe and I met Chris at a small music stage, and after people watching while politely enduring some really bad music, Chris guided Jefe's truck out in to the desert and a bunkers occupied by Adam & Melissa. This would be Friday's camp. Chris had met them at Salvation Mountain and if memory serves, they recruited him to help clean/ repair while he was there. In typical Chris fashion, he now obviously felt an odd sense of obligation to Leonard although to my knowledge Salvation Mountain, particularly its disrepair, had nothing to do with his visit to The Slabs. After having just written my diatribe on the Red Cross, this reeked of...something!

Adam & Melissa were from the LA area, and interesting characters; Adam and I even shared a C-grade celebrity acquaintance who switched to TV/ film after we worked in radio together. We were joined around the cozy fire by Kevin: one of the more interesting characters I've met to date and one who would recur throughout my stay. Kevin lived south of Gallup, New Mexico and was at The Slabs to essentially use his role within Social Service's to provide a buffer from the state, and to help Leonard- who by most accounts was moving deeper into the Southern Hemisphere of Sanity- after starting only near the Tropic of Capricorn! As Kevin described it, they were providing team "assisted living" to Leonard so he could stay and continue working on his Mountain. There were several people who appeared to play a role, with Kevin acting as Leonard's "right hand" until Leonard "got sick of him" after 3-months... which happened like clockwork. Kevin now operated behind the scenes helping whoever was now awaiting their own 3-month termination!



Kevin is one of those interesting road dogs that you meet every so often, but are all too rare. He reminded me a great deal of Don Dufner and Alex Sardine in that he has a McGuyveresque quality about him; he could seemingly make and DO anything! At first I found him annoying because he seemed to think himself as The Perpetual Authority. The problem with my initial assessment was... that... he... apparently... is! He had insight on sailing etc. and was a historian on the Salton Sea area, which is a fascinating story in and of itself even separate of The Slabs.

Jefe was interesting to watch as well. He was battling conflicting ideas surrounding the now-familiar-to-the-reader conflict between safety/ security & freedom. He seemed to enjoy sitting out in the desert's dirt, and I believe began to see and understand that... yes, people DO actually do this in varying degrees. As we went to bed, there was some question as to whether he would stay another day, or head back to the comforts of civilization.

The brightest full moon of the year illuminated the desert floor as El Jefe sacked out in the truck while Chris and I continued to re-acquaint after not seeing each other since 9/19; four-plus months had passed since Port Townsend. While interesting changes had taken place with each of us, some things will never change...

Flash-free Moon Shadows