We're all dreamers. From Walter Elias Disney to Walter P. Anonymous, each of us has a vision of grandeur floating about between his or her ears. Dreams give us hope. Dreams give us vision and direction. For some, dreams do nothing but clash with reality.
It was after a bit of daydreaming and a lot of reading that our '03 4Runner UNlimited was packed full of tools, munchies, and camping gear. We needed a close-to-home escape.
We had about 36 hours available, so what could potentially have been several days' worth of exploration had to be crammed into a day and a half. Our journey touched both the Space Age and the Stone Age against the backdrop of San Diego's backcountry.
We found the Space Age atop Mt. Palomar at the end of twisty East Grade Road. Here, the Palomar Observatory's white dome gleams in the sun by day and retracts to expose the powerful Hale telescope by night. The Hale telescope is no longer the world's largest telescope, yet it continues to be an important research tool for the scientific community. Visitors don't get to look through the Hale telescope, but there are several photos on display of images captured using the sophisticated optics of its 200-inch-diameter reflecting mirror. Gaze at the photos long enough, and it's easy to feel closer to the cosmos than to Earth. George Ellery Hale was the dreamer behind the Palomar Observatory. Hale didn't build the telescope or the dome, but it was his vision and scientific prowess that were responsible for the observatory's creation.
While the Palomar Observatory is both spectacular and significant, we were after more than just scientific supremacy and twisty paved roads. The Palomar Observatory provided a touch point to compare our next destination to. We were about to pay a visit, and homage of sorts, to another dreamer: Marshal South.
Joel Blumer makes his way toward the top. The trail is a well-beaten path, but it's still easy to lose the way when the route traverses sections of rock steps. Look for the dirt path on the other side of the rock steps, and you're on the right track. | 
Ocotillos jut toward the sky. The trail passes by several of these twisted desert guardians on the way to the home site. | 
This cement-lined pond was part of the water collection system. |
Marshal South was originally from Australia, where his father was a well-to-do sheep rancher. South's given name was Roy Richards, but he changed it to distance himself from his father after emigrating to the United States with his mother and brother in 1907. Although he'd grown up with wealth, Marshal South did not value it. Instead of material wealth, Marshal's ideal world contained an array of artistic media through which he could express his creativity. Marshal could work with words, wood, pottery, and paint to perfection.
Marshal South was one for whom dreams clashed sharply with reality. Marshal was neither a hermit nor a monk. He was a family man responsible for the well-being of a wife and three children. For 17 years, the South family lived on a rocky knoll atop Ghost Mountain. Called "The Great Experiment," the South family's existence was a tough one. Ghost Mountain had no water; every drop had to be collected in cisterns after falling from the sky or hauled up in containers. Civilization's closest outpost was, and still is, the hamlet of Julian. Ghost Mountain lies within the borders of present-day Anza-Borrego Desert State Park.
Although the journey to Ghost Mountain begins by turning off of San Diego County Highway S-2 onto a dirt road, the final stretch of a visit to Ghost Mountain can only be completed with hiking boots. The sometimes-steep hike to the South family's home site does not follow the same trail used by Marshal and his family, but it does give one an appreciation for what a tough existence living on Ghost Mountain must have been.
Although it wasn't a true-to-life Stone Age existence, parts of life on Ghost Mountain were very primitive. Wheat was ground by hand and baked in an adobe oven. Native plants were used for everything from food to clothing to household tools.
This photo, taken inside the dome from the visitor's gallery, shows the Hale telescope and part of the framework used to hold and position it. At the bottom of the telescope lies a perfectly-polished parabolic mirror that a whopping 200 inches (over 16 feet) in diameter. The mirror began life as a massive Pyrex casting done at the Corning Glass Works in upstate New York. The 40-ton casting was transported across the country by rail, and finally bought to the mountaintop on a trailer pushed and pulled by three diesel trucks. Polishing the mirror to its final desired shape removed 10,000 pounds of glass from the original casting, and took a full thirteen years. The mirror reflects images upward to what's called the prime focus at the top of the telescope. In the early years, astronomers would physically ride in the prime focus cage and look directly through the optics. Today, electronic equipment gathers the image data and feeds it into computers in a nearby room. | 
The Palomar Observatory perches atop Mt. Palomar at about 5,500 feet. This elevation is high enough to get snow in the winter and remain cooler than the surrounding lowlands in the summer. Since the Palomar Observatory is an active research facility, access to the telescope is limited to a visitor's gallery inside the dome. Visitors can take a self-guided tour daily from 9 a.m. to 4 p.m., and docent-led tours are also available at selected times and days. | 
The cistern system also included a covered reservoir made of cemented rocks, and steel barrels lined with cement. When rain would start, the family rushed to make sure the gutter was clear of debris so it would provide proper drainage. The first bit of water was discarded, for it carried all the sand and other impurities that had collected on the roof. After the initial water had cleansed the roof, the rest of the downpour was channeled into the cisterns. |