It provides the perfect opportunity to directly see the progress I’ve made as a photographer and visitor to the parks. I’ve learned to shoot with intention and purpose—to tell a story with my images.

March 13–16, 2026

I thoroughly enjoy revisiting any park I’ve already photographed. It offers the chance to revive and deepen my understanding of the park’s beauty. It’s easier to bypass the obvious persona and spend more time capturing the heart of the park. I first visited Joshua Tree National Park back in 2019. It was the first trip that I began photographing my national park experiences. However, through a chain of unfortunate events involving a smash and grab theft, I lost all those photos. Therefore, I now find myself back in southern California once again looking to this desert beauty for fresh inspiration.

The drive from Santa Ana to Joshua Tree is a little over two hours and landing after dinner has us pulling in well after nightfall. Black Rock Canyon Campground, our home base for the next two nights, sits amid one of the densest Joshua tree groves in the park, so it is with great self control that I set up the tent and go to bed just imagining what these spiky silhouettes will look like in the daylight.

However, Black Rock will have to wait a little longer because before sunrise we wake up, jump in the car and drive to Cholla Cactus Garden. This is the perk of revisiting a park. I immediately know which sunrise venues are worth the effort, and Cholla Cactus Garden is one of the top national park sunrises I have ever witnessed. The scene is so familiar like coming home. We pull up to the sprawling grove of cacti and patiently wait for the sun to crest the eastern mountains. Cactus wrens flit back and forth just like last time. The growing light builds our anticipation for the moment the sun breaks the horizon.

Soon enough, the first rays pierce the sky and spark the tips of the cholla needles. In minutes the entire cactus forest is ablaze in golden light—a scene I am happy to replicate from my last excursion out here.

On our way back to camp, we take advantage of the cool morning temperatures to explore Arch Rock Trail—a short half-mile trail out to a curious rock outcropping capped off with a rock archway. It’s only 8:30 a.m. and already the heat is settling in, but hiking among the rocks keeps us cool in the shade.

After an hour or so, we exhaust our curiosity and drive back to camp after a satisfying morning in the desert. A quick stop at the Twentynine Palms visitor center and we’re on our way back to Black Rock Canyon, this time in the daylight.

And it’s true. I’ve never seen so many Joshua trees in one place before. This campground definitely deserves a closer look in our time ahead. But for now, we’ve heard tell that Joshua Tree National Park’s neighbor to the north, Death Valley National Park, is experiencing a rare 10-year superbloom. The perfect balance of heat and rain has germinated millions of dormant wildflower seeds hiding in the desert, erupting the valley in a bloom beyond expectations. So we put a pause on Joshua Tree and drive 4 hours north to experience this uncommon phenomenon.

After spending sunset in Death Valley we once again pull into Black Rock Canyon late at night. A blanket of stars maps the night sky overhead. I’m exhausted from the drive, but can’t resist the urge to test a few astrophotography ideas bouncing around in my head. Crawling into bed, I promise myself I will explore the nearby trails first thing in the morning.

And that’s a promise I can keep. At sunrise the next day, I wake up and quietly venture into the joshua tree forest. The soft morning light intensifies the desert colors. Cool greens and warm yellows dance on the bizarre twisted arms of the Joshua trees. It’s one of those surreal otherworldly experiences that only a national park can grant.

The sun climbs higher and I return to camp to pack up the tent and check out of Black Rock Canyon. Tonight we move campgrounds for our last night. I’m expecting great things. Ryan Campground, our new campsite, lies well within the park meaning even darker skies and quieter neighbors.

But before we make it to Ryan Campground, we must make the most of the cool morning hours so I suggest a hike back to Forty-nine Palms Oasis. It’s a bit of a strenuous hike, up and over a steep ridgeline, but rewards us with a lush desert oasis. Water bubbles up from springs in the ground and giant California fan palms cast generous shade swaying in the breeze. It takes everything in us to leave the respite of the oasis and hike back up and over to the car.

We make it back right before noon, just as the heat of the day sets in. Cooling off, we grab cold drinks in Twentynine Palms and drive over to Ryan Campground for the afternoon. We come to find out our campsite is the one of the best in the park, nestled under a large rock wall surrounded by desert foliage far away from neighbors. Couldn’t ask for a better setup. Relaxing around the campsite we watch rock climbers ascend giant granite slabs in and around our campground.

Rested and rejuvenated, we venture out for one last easy hike for the day. Stopping at Hall of Horrors, we scamper around the rocks exploring the myriad of slot canyons, caves, and holes to climb through. This place is awesome! A veritable rock playground. It’s a wonder I didn’t come here in 2019.

The rest of the day consists of dinner at camp watching the sun set on the landscape and settling in to watch the stars overhead. The benefit of warm desert nights is the chance to sleep under the night sky and fall asleep to the stars above. But before I do that, I intend to experiment with some night photography. With the moon below the horizon, now is my chance to catch the stars at their fullest. I’m in my element testing different exposure settings as the night wastes away. It’s 3 a.m. by the time I hit the bag.

Morning comes early as we must pack up for the airport and drive back to Santa Ana by noon. As always it’s difficult to leave a park I’ve come to love, but just as I didn’t know I would return to Joshua Tree this time, I never know what the future holds. While I wish I hadn’t lost those original trip photos, it is encouraging to compare that first park experience with this latest trip. It is the perfect opportunity to directly see the progress I’ve made as a photographer and visitor to the parks. I’ve learned to shoot with intention and purpose—to tell the story of the landscape. I’ve also learned to do my homework before arriving, researching which hikes are worth the effort and where to find the park’s true personality—when to linger and when to move along—the invaluable skills of park questing. Here’s to many more revisits now that my park quest is complete.