We had already risen to 2,613 feet when we got to the
tramway parking lot, and then had to climb a couple more staircases to the “Valley”
Station. It wasn’t until we were
actually aboard the tram car that we learned that the floor beneath us would rotate
360 degrees twice on the ride up so everyone could see every vantage point of the
ascent!
It was a delightful discovery for me, but an additional
challenge for Val, who is less enamoured of soaring heights. Fortunately, there was a sturdy handrail near
his spot in the car so that, even as we revolved, he had a firm grip on
something solid. He may have had less of
a grip on his imagination, but he didn’t give any evidence of it. He’s my hero.
As the car rose the steep incline, we could see the valley
drop away below and sharp, craggy rocks above.
From Sonoran sand and cacti at the bottom, the vegetation took on an
alpine appearance as we rose. We could easily have been on
a Canadian mountain by the time we reached the Mountain Station.
The tram car lurched and swayed gently at each of the five
towers it passed, eliciting groans and gasps from the height-sensitive members
of the group (mentioning no names), and giggles of delight from the daredevil
side of the crowd (ditto).
We learned that the tramway was the brainchild of Frank
Crocker, a Palm Springs resident who began dreaming of it in the 1930s, and saw
it become a reality in 1961. The current
revolving-floor tram cars were introduced in 2000, and there are only two others
like it in the world (Switzerland and South Africa) but this one covers the
greatest height.
Cool, fresh air blew through the open windows of the tram as
our altitude increased, and visitors pulled on sweaters and jackets in the
60-degree temperature at the top when we disembarked. A spectacular view awaited us – the entire
Coachella Valley spread out below, with a carpet of squared-off streets and
gardens in the civilized parts, and sandy desert surrounding it.
Far off to the south we could see, near the misty horizon,
Salton Sea, a large salt-water lake formed in 1905 when the Colorado River
flooded the valley and filled the deep saucer-shaped crater with water. Run-off from agricultural lands around it and
minerals in the ground brought about the saltiness.
The swath of valley below us was, in fact, the San Andreas
Fault – that famous whipping boy for every earthquake California has
experienced for hundreds of years. It
looked stable and peaceful enough to us!
We had a delightful visit and picnic lunch in the cool mountains before
returning to the 91-degree heat in our RV.
Thankfully, the restaurant where we’re going for Valentine’s dinner will
have AC!
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