This is it. This is the moment that forever becomes engrained in my mind. A spark of sunrise to eventually ignite my 6 year quest to replicate this wonder in every U.S. national park.

November 2–4, 2019

The park that starts it all for me. Of course, I don’t know that at this time. I just assume I’m visiting Joshua Tree National Park to run a race. I had recently become obsessed with a series of half marathons in various national parks across the west. Joshua Tree just happens to be the next on the list. So my mom and I board a plane to arrive midday in Ontario, California, to start the 2 hour drive to our AirBnB in Yucca Valley.

The Joshua Tree Half Marathon is unique in that while most races begin in the morning to beat the heat, this race commences at sunset—a run under the stars. So after a day of traveling, I lace up my shoes for a night race. The sun dips below the horizon and the starting gun fires. Not really sure what to expect, I take off with the front pack, my lungs gladly drinking in the low altitude. Stars pop out overhead as the scenery fades away. The cool desert air is refreshing. Around mile 7, I catch up and pass a runner. Surely there’s more up ahead, but all I see is the white spotlight of my headlamp several paces in front of me. Mile 8. Mile 9. Mile 10, 11, 12. They must be far ahead I think. It doesn’t dawn on me until half a mile more that I’m in the lead. I dig in and crank out the last mile. What a weird sensation. I’ve never won a race before in my life! And here I am crossing the finish line first. Breathless, I hug my mom and collect my medal. As runners trickle in we have an awards ceremony. I ascend the podium and receive my prize: a yearlong America The Beautiful Parks Pass.

The next day, I put that pass to good use. Waking up early, we venture out into the park to take advantage of cool temperatures. Not sure where to start, we randomly choose Boy Scout Trail as our first hike. The golden hour sunrise casts rose gold alpenglow on the hills all around us. Round heaping boulders stack in odd shapes as the path weaves in and out. About 1.5 miles down the path, we veer right onto Willow Hole Trail. This is perhaps the best decision because the canyon of boulders grows close around us. The path weaves tighter and tighter turns. Cholla cactus and Ocotillo line the path in manicured fashion. Lizards skit across the gravel from shadow to shadow. We climb to an overview and take in the surrounding boulder fields. It is otherworldly—unlike anything I’ve ever seen before. I feel like an ant crawling over giant grains of sand to survey a sandbox.

Turning around we head back to the car and drive to famous roadside attractions: Skull Rock and Arch Rock are delightful, but not overly captivating so we only linger long enough for a few good photos and continue on our way. Further in the park, we find Keys View, a highpoint lookout over Palm Springs and the rest of the park. The view is far-reaching, but by now the sun is high in the sky and temps are reaching upper 80ºFs. So make our way to the visitor center to escape the heat, then head back to the rental house to nap the afternoon away, waiting for the cool of the day.

As the sun begins to set, we head back out the door. Hidden Valley comes highly recommended so we start there for a sunset view. The rocks turn hot orange in the westering sun. Shadows grow long as Joshua trees turn into silhouettes around us. Up the road we pull off at Cap Rock to watch the stars come out. Before long, an ocean of stars fills the heavens. The Milky Way is bright and vibrant in the deep black night. After an hour or two of stargazing, we retreat back to bed, ending our only full day in the park. Tomorrow we fly back, but not before a morning in the park.

On a whim, we decide to wake up at 4:00 a.m. to drive an hour to the famed Cholla Cactus Garden. I had read somewhere online that this was the spot for sunrise. So traversing the dark desert roads, we pull into the parking lot alone. Twilight turns to dawn as stars fold into the lighter shades of sky. I’m standing in a forest of shoulder-high cholla cacti. It’s a small patch in light of the surrounding hillside, but the cacti still outnumber us maybe 1000 to 1. The scene is incredible, but little do I know what is about to happen will set an obsession into motion that I didn’t see coming.

In a few short minutes, the sky grows pale yellow, then deep gold. Suddenly, a spear of sunlight pierces the landscape. Every needle on every cactus illuminates in a sharp yellow glow. The sea of cholla around me ignite in a forest fire of sunlight. I was not expecting this. I just wanted to see the sun pop above the horizon. The panoramic beauty leaves us speechless as we buzz around taking photos of the fragile beauty. Cactus wren flit about from cactus to cactus adding to the splendor. This is it. This is the moment that forever becomes engrained in my mind. A spark of sunrise to eventually ignite my 6 year quest to replicate this sense of wonder in every other U.S. national park.

We soak in the early morning beauty all to ourselves, as we fix a quick tailgate breakfast. Around 7:30 a.m. we drive back towards town. We still have a couple hours to spend, so we drive down Highway 62 towards Twentynine Palms and turn up an obscure road to reach the trailhead for Fortynine Palms Oasis. Everything so far has been dry and dusty. We are excited for a change of pace. A short 1 mile trail guides us around behind a ridge where nestled in the bare rock hillside is a grove of California fan palms—forty-nine altogether I can only assume. The atmosphere is noticeably different. The temperature drops a good 20 degrees. The sound of birds and fronds rustling in the breeze fills the silence. The smell of water hangs in the air. It’s amazing the power of water over a landscape—transforming a hostile environment to a thriving ecosystem.

If only we could spend more time here. Our visit is quick as we must head back to the airport soon. The drive back to Ontario is another 2 hours, but that gives us plenty of time to enjoy the memories together: the bulbous rock formations, the starry skies, and that cactus sunrise I can’t get out of my head.