Desert

The details: In 1946, when jackrabbits and homesteading World War II veterans dominated the dry, remote open spaces of the Morongo Basin, the Mesquite Motel went up along the main highway in Twentynine Palms. By 1962, it was called La Hacienda and had a tall, yellow, utterly utilitarian sign (and a little, rectangular pool). Later it became the Motel 29 Palms, the Sunset Motel and the Mojave Trails Inn. In 2019, owner Ashton Ramsey said, he bought it for $350,000 and dubbed it Ramsey 29.

The old yellow sign hangs out front. But Ramsey turned L.A.-based Kristen Schultz and her firm K/L DESIGN loose to take these 10 rooms in a desert-eclectic direction.

Furniture is hand-built, brick walls are whitewashed and coat hangers carry their own clever slogans. Headboards are upcycled from Italian military stretchers, canvas armchairs bear the words “soiled clothes large” and the new tiles on the bathroom floor say “29,” as do custom blankets and other items. The floors are concrete. Room 9, closest to the highway, now has triple-paned windows. Six rooms opened in 2020, the remaining four in 2024. Guests check themselves in digitally.

Ramsey plans changes around the pool next, including more palm trees. But he’s not shying away from the word “motel.”

“I’ve leaned into that,” Ramsey said. “You’ve got to be proud of what you are.” In fact, he said, “We didn’t just renovate a motel. We’re trying to renovate a town. If we don’t brag on 29, nobody else will.”

Spring rates typically start at $185 a night on weekends (plus taxes), $95 on weekdays. Free parking. Pets OK for a fee. (The hotel website routes bookings through Airbnb.)

The United Arab Emirates has quickly become a favourite holiday spot for UK travellers, and it’s not hard to understand the appeal

The United Arab Emirates has swiftly emerged as a top holiday destination for British tourists, and it’s easy to see why. Boasting diverse landscapes from deserts and oases to mountains and valleys, the UAE caters to all kinds of holidaymakers, whilst showcasing year-round luxury living.

Dubai and Abu Dhabi shine as the crown jewels of the UAE’s premium travel scene. However, merely an hour’s journey from Dubai sits a hidden paradise that guests have dubbed the nation’s best-kept secret.

Harry Leach ventured to Al Marjan Island in Ras Al Khaimah (RAK), the UAE’s most northern emirate, last November seeking thrills – and discovered them in abundance, reports Bristol Live.

Upon his arrival, Harry watched daredevils racing along the planet’s most extensive zipline, Jais Flight, hitting jaw-dropping speeds of up to 100mph across the 1.75-mile track.

He captured the moment: “Ahead of me, adrenaline junkies shoot across the world’s longest zipline, Jais Flight, reaching hair-raising speeds of up to 100mph on the 1.75-mile journey,” before noting, “Suspended in Superman positions, 4,869ft above sea level, I can just make out their gleeful shrieks as they reach safety after a three-minute dopamine hit.

“To my right is the Jais Sledder: a 1.14-mile mountainside toboggan on a low-slung track. It’s certainly not for the faint-hearted, and I’d argue far more exhilarating than any rollercoaster at Alton Towers.”

Harry summed up his experience: “This is Ras Al Khaimah, only a short 45-minute drive away from Dubai airport. It’s a thrillseekers’ dream destination while also a relaxing desert paradise.”

Harry enjoyed a lavish break at the five-star Mövenpick Resort, positioned on Al Marjan Island’s stunning coral-shaped isles, encircled by the Persian Gulf’s glistening azure waters.

“When I arrived in late November, temperatures were still reaching 30C and above, despite being on the cusp of winter,” he explained.

His trip was made even more pleasant thanks to an ocean breeze which helped make the intense sunshine more bearable – a crucial element for someone who must slather on factor 50 throughout the British summer.

The resort catered to a diverse crowd, from older tourists and youngsters to families seeking retreat, solo travellers in search of tranquillity, adrenaline junkies, and those content with lounging on deck chairs.

Harry found an array of activities at his disposal, including relaxing in the spa, immersing himself in an online gaming cave, trying out arcade games, watching over kids in the play centre, and enjoying frequent live shows.

After a strenuous gym session, Harry treated himself to what he described as the ultimate post-workout reward: “I followed up a tough gym session by treating myself to the best post-workout meal available: Mövenpick’s ‘chocolate hour’ – 60 minutes of complimentary eclairs, truffles and choccy fondue. It’s pure indulgence.”

Despite the number of options to keep him occupied, he felt that “There’s a lot going on, a lot to see, a lot to do, but it never feels overwhelming.”

“It goes without saying that Mövenpick, a well-established Swiss hotel management brand in Europe, has exceptional dining options – with four first-rate restaurants on site, all focusing on sustainability and fresh food, each with their unique style, character and draw.”

The Mövenpick Resort Al Marjan Island’s culinary heart is The Market, serving breakfast, lunch, and dinner, which has been hailed as the hotel’s vibrant hub by visitor Harry.

Sharing his experience, Harry highlighted the dedication to genuine dining: “It’s about creating meals from the heart,” a philosophy echoed by Chef Rajiv Ranjan Singh during a masterclass in preparing Switzerland’s cherished rösti.

The resort isn’t only renowned for its cuisine but also for its lavish Neo Sky Bar. Additionally, it provides views of the round-the-clock building site for the UAE’s first casino, expected to welcome guests in 2027.

This £3 billion project is set to boost visitor numbers to Al Marjan Island, a destination still establishing itself as a holiday hotspot, particularly amongst Western travellers despite its relatively young 12-year existence.

Looking back on his stay, Harry said: “I wasn’t sure what to expect when I arrived here. But after five days, I left feeling revitalised and refreshed. The warmth and friendliness of locals and the tranquillity of the island made it a tough goodbye on the final morning.”

He added: “Dubai gets most of the attention, and grabs the headlines, and perhaps that will always be the case.

“But I’m fine with that because Al Marjan Island is currently the country’s best-kept secret.”

Forget Malibu or the North Shore. Next summer, you can catch a wave in Palm Desert, 100 miles from the nearest ocean.

After years of delays, DSRT Surf, the Coachella Valley’s second surf destination, is expected to open to the public in the summer of 2026. The new complex will offer inland surfers a steady stream of machine-powered waves in a 5.5 acre surf pool embedded in the sprawling Desert Willow Golf Resort.

The complex, which will eventually include a 139-key hotel and 57 luxury villas, is the latest addition to a growing number of surf resorts opening across the country and the world that don’t require proximity to a coastline. Surf pools may not have the romance and drama of the open ocean, but fans say they can provide beginners and experienced surfers alike consistent waves for working on skills as well as introduce the sport to people who lack easy access to natural waves.

A rendering shows visitors riding machine-powered waves in a 5.5 acre surf pool.

(Beach Street Development)

And at least in Palm Desert, it also helps that the weather is significantly more predictable than at a seaside resort where a surf trip might be ruined by a week of rain.

“We often say if you could pick a place in the world to do this, this is absolutely the best place in the world,” said Doug Sheres, a partner at Beach Street Development, the company behind DSRT Surf at a ground-breaking ceremony in 2024. “Literally right here in Desert Willow, surrounded by the greens, surrounded by the lake, surrounded by the mountains, and 350 days of sunshine a year.”

The project, which was delayed by COVID and a complex permitting process, has been in the works since 2018 and was approved by the Palm Desert City Council in 2019 despite some residents’ concerns about water usage and questions about the wisdom of building a surf park in the middle of the desert.

The wave pool holds 7 million gallons of water and, because of evaporation, filtration and maintenance, it is expected to go through roughly 25 million gallons of water a year. However, as part of its agreement with Palm Desert, Beach Street Development has committed to replacing 1 million square feet of existing turf in the Desert Willow Golf Resort with native plantings, a move that is projected to save 35 million gallons of water a year while not impacting game play on the courses.

“Through this initiative, our surf pool will not use any incremental water above or beyond what is currently already being used today at Desert Willow,” the developers wrote on DSRT Surf’s website.

In addition to the wave pool, DSRT Surf will also offer pickleball courts, a swimming pool, jacuzzi, yoga classes, a restaurant and a skate bowl.

The opening of DSRT Surf comes just two years after the reopening of Palm Springs Surf Club 10 miles down the road. That club is built on the site of a former water park and features a 1.5 acre wave pool, a lazy river and water slides. It hasn’t always been popular with guests and neighbors — its wave pool was plagued with mechanical issues in its early months, and its machines and events have generated dozens of noise complaints, though management has said noise-reducing solutions are in the works.

DSRT Surf’s massive surf lagoon will be larger than four football fields and will accommodate 70 surfers at once. Although prices for hour-long surf sessions have not yet been set, Sheres said they are committed to making surfing in the desert affordable for the local community.

“We consider this very much available to all income levels and demographics, ” he said in an interview. “It’s wide open to everyone.”

WASHINGTON — When President Trump’s administration last month awarded a contract worth up to $1.2 billion to build and operate what it says will become the nation’s largest immigration detention complex, it didn’t turn to a large government contractor or even a firm that specializes in private prisons.

Instead, it handed the project on a military base to Acquisition Logistics LLC, a small business that has no listed experience running a correction facility and had never won a federal contract worth more than $16 million. The company also lacks a functioning website and lists as its address a modest home in suburban Virginia owned by a 77-year-old retired Navy flight officer.

The mystery over the award only deepened last week as the new facility began to accept its first detainees. The Pentagon has refused to release the contract or explain why it selected Acquisition Logistics over a dozen other bidders to build the massive tent camp at Fort Bliss in west Texas. At least one competitor has filed a complaint.

The secretive — and brisk — contracting process is emblematic, experts said, of the government’s broader rush to fulfill the Republican president’s pledge to arrest and deport an estimated 10 million migrants living in the U.S. without permanent legal status. As part of that push, the government is turning increasingly to the military to handle tasks that had traditionally been left to civilian agencies.

A member of Congress who recently toured the camp said she was concerned that such a small and inexperienced firm had been entrusted to build and run a facility expected to house up to 5,000 migrants.

“It’s far too easy for standards to slip,” said Rep. Veronica Escobar, a Democrat whose district includes Fort Bliss. “Private facilities far too frequently operate with a profit margin in mind as opposed to a governmental facility.”

Attorney Joshua Schnell, who specializes in federal contracting law, said he was troubled that the Trump administration has provided so little information about the facility.

“The lack of transparency about this contract leads to legitimate questions about why the Army would award such a large contract to a company without a website or any other publicly available information demonstrating its ability to perform such a complicated project,” he said.

Ken A. Wagner, the president and CEO of Acquisition Logistics, did not respond to phone messages or emails. No one answered the door at his three-bedroom house listed as his company’s headquarters. Virginia records list Wagner as an owner of the business, though it’s unclear whether he might have partners.

Army declines to release contract

Defense Secretary Pete Hegseth approved using Fort Bliss for the new detention center, and the administration has hopes to build more at other bases. A spokesperson for the Army declined to discuss its deal with Acquisition Logistics or reveal details about the camp’s construction, citing the litigation over the company’s qualifications.

The Department of Homeland Security, which includes U.S. Immigration and Customs Enforcement, declined to answer questions about the detention camp it oversees.

Named Camp East Montana for the closest road, the facility is being built in the sand and scrub Chihuahuan Desert, where summertime temperatures can exceed 100 degrees Fahrenheit and heat-related deaths are common. The 60-acre site is near the U.S.-Mexico border and the El Paso International Airport, a key hub for deportation flights.

The camp has drawn comparisons to “Alligator Alcatraz,” a $245 million tent complex erected to hold ICE detainees in the Florida Everglades. That facility has been the subject of complaints about unsanitary conditions and lawsuits. A federal judge recently ordered that facility to be shut down.

The vast majority of the roughly 57,000 migrants detained by ICE are housed at private prisons operated by companies like Florida’s Geo Group and Tennessee-based CoreCivic. As those facilities fill up, ICE is also exploring temporary options at military bases in California, New York and Utah.

At Fort Bliss, construction began within days of the Army issuing the contract on July 18. Site work began months earlier, before Congress had passed Trump’s big tax and spending cuts bill, which includes a record $45 billion for immigration enforcement. The Defense Department announcement specified only that the Army was financing the initial $232 million for the first 1,000 beds at the complex.

Three white tents, each about 810 feet long, have been erected, according to satellite imagery examined by the Associated Press. A half dozen smaller buildings surround them.

Setareh Ghandehari, a spokesperson for the advocacy group Detention Watch, said the use of military bases hearkens back to World War II, when Japanese Americans were imprisoned at Army camps including Fort Bliss. She said military facilities are especially prone to abuse and neglect because families and loved ones have difficulty accessing them.

“Conditions at all detention facilities are inherently awful,” Ghandehari said. “But when there’s less access and oversight, it creates the potential for even more abuse.”

Company will be responsible for security

A June 9 solicitation notice for the Fort Bliss project specified the contractor will be responsible for building and operating the detention center, including providing security and medical care. The document also requires strict secrecy, ordering the contractor inform ICE to respond to any calls from members of Congress or the news media.

The bidding was open only to small firms such as Acquisition Logistics, which receives preferential status because it’s classified as a veteran and Hispanic-owned small disadvantaged business.

Though Trump’s administration has fought to ban diversity, equity and inclusion programs, federal contracting rules include set-asides for small businesses owned by women or minorities. For a firm to compete for such contracts, at least 51% of it must be owned by people belonging to a federally designated disadvantaged racial or ethnic group.

One of the losing bidders, Texas-based Gemini Tech Services, filed a protest challenging the award and the Army’s rushed construction timeline with the U.S. Government Accountability Office, Congress’ independent oversight arm that resolves such disputes.

Gemini alleges Acquisition Logistics lacks the experience, staffing and resources to perform the work, according to a person familiar with the complaint who wasn’t authorized to discuss the matter and spoke on the condition of anonymity. Acquisition Logistics’ past jobs include repairing small boats for the Air Force, providing information technology support to the Defense Department and building temporary offices to aid with immigration enforcement, federal records show.

Gemini and its lawyer didn’t respond to messages seeking comment.

A ruling by the GAO on whether to sustain, dismiss or require corrective action is not expected before November. A legal appeal is also pending with a U.S. federal court in Washington.

Schnell, the contracting lawyer, said Acquisitions Logistics may be working with a larger company. Geo Group Inc. and CoreCivic Corp., the nation’s biggest for-profit prison operators, have expressed interest in contracting with the Pentagon to house migrants.

In an earnings call this month, Geo Group CEO George Zoley said his company had teamed up with an established Pentagon contractor. Zoley didn’t name the company, and Geo Group didn’t respond to repeated requests asking with whom it had partnered.

A spokesperson for CoreCivic said it wasn’t partnering with Acquisition Logistics or Gemini.

Biesecker and Goodman write for the Associated Press. Goodman reported from Miami. AP writer Alan Suderman in Richmond, Va., and Morgan Lee in Santa Fe, N.M., contributed to this report.

UNCERTAINTY looms over Saudi Arabia’s plans to build a high-tech mountain ski resort in the middle of the desert.

The project has met such substantial woes that the country is even reportedly in talks to relocate the 2029 Asian Winter Games.

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These games had been expected to take place in Trojena – in the futuristic city of NEOM in the north of Saudi Arabia.

But the project has faced substantial difficulties as the desert Kingdom scrambles to complete the resort in time, the FT has reported.

Trojena is planned to feature 30km of ski-runs – which will include the Asian Games’ 400m slope.

Snow for the ski slopes would be artificial, and would be pumped from the Gulf of Aqaba 200km away.

“Trojena will become one of the most dazzling destinations in NEOM and across the world,” says a NEOM spokesperson.

But for all the promise of a glittering, high tech future, NEOM’s many projects have been bogged down with delays and setbacks, with Trojena being no exception.

Amid construction woes, South Korea and China are reportedly being considered as alternate venues for the games.

But a source familiar with the project told the Telegraph: “The difficulties have been magnified by the schedule imposed on the project.”

Another said: “The Saudis are really committed to building something there.

“Maybe not on the scale that they have imagined in the first place.”

NEOM was announced as part of Saudi Crown Prince Mohammad bin Salman’s Project 2030 in 2017.

It came as part of a major push to wean the oil-rich nation’s economy off its reliance on fossil fuels.

As well as the ski slopes, it is expected to include The Line, Oxagon, Trojena, Sindalah and the Gulf of Aqaba Projects.

Yet human rights abuses and brutal conditions for workers looming over NEOM.

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As many as 21,000 are reported to have died during construction, but Saudi authorities have disputed this figure.

Human Rights Watch researcher Joey Shea previously told the Sun: “Unfortunately migrant workers in Saudi Arabia continue to face widespread abuses, some of which may amount to situations of forced labour, including at high profile gigaprojects.

“On NEOM, Human Rights Watch has found that ambitious targets set by Saudi authorities have tight and unrealistic deadlines which can lead employers to demand that workers continue to work under dangerous conditions.

“Migrant workers in Saudi Arabia experience illegal and exorbitant Recruitment Fees, limits to job mobility, obstacles exiting the country,  as well as serious health and safety risks.”

One NEOM worker previously told The Sun that the project’s management has “overspent quite a bit” since its announcement.

He said: “They were focusing on way too many things at the same time.

“They just wanted everything at the highest level possible. The biggest entertainment complex in the world. The biggest media studio in the region.

“No matter how much money you throw at the thing, it takes more than just money to make it work.”

Two scenes. Two storytellers. Two visions for a climate-altered American West.

On an overcast spring morning, I hopped a low metal fence off a lonely dirt road in the Nevada desert, following botanist Naomi Fraga. She assured me she’d done this before — these were public lands, after all. We were 100 miles east of Yosemite, out in the middle of nowhere, except I’d long since learned there’s no such thing as nowhere. The desert may look barren, but its mountains and valleys teem with life. And precious metals.

Fraga led me up a small hill, the soil chalky-white and rich with lithium, a key ingredient in lithium-ion batteries for electric cars. We moved slowly, not wanting to trample any endangered wildflowers.

Wait, were those the flowers? The Tiehm’s buckwheat I’d come hundreds of miles to see?

“Very tiny,” Fraga confirmed. “When it flowers, its flower stalks might come about 4 or 5 inches high.”

“It snows here in this elevation zone,” she added, roughly 6,000 feet above sea level. “It’s a very cold desert, and when it’s cold, Tiehm’s buckwheat is just lying in wait, waiting for spring.”

For a flower that’s spurred high-stakes litigation, detailed scientific study and global news coverage, it was pretty ugly, at least in its dormant winter state. The clumps of gray-green buckwheat looked almost like mold.

Clumps of Tiehm’s buckwheat near the planned Rhyolite Ridge lithium mine.

(Sammy Roth / Los Angeles Times)

For Fraga, the flower’s current appearance is beside the point. Tiehm’s buckwheat doesn’t grow anywhere else in the world — just here, across three square miles of Esmeralda County. She’s enthralled by its role in an ecosystem of pollinators and bighorn sheep. She’s awestruck by its ability to survive winter snow and 120-degree heat.

“I just have an enormous amount of respect for the organisms that make this their home,” she said. “I feel like it brings for a reverence for harsh living, and ways in which life will find a way.”

The question now: Can Tiehm’s buckwheat survive a lithium mine?

Fraga doesn’t think so. Bernard Rowe disagrees.

The day after I met Fraga, Rowe took me to the same area. We drove down the dirt road past the metal fence, to a spectacular basin where his employer, Australia-based Ioneer, is preparing to dig for lithium.

“The good thing is, this is a natural amphitheater, and it is hidden from really everywhere,” Rowe said. “You’ve got the ring of volcanic rocks that completely surrounds this basin.”

Sight lines don’t matter to an endangered flower. But contrary to claims made by conservationists, Rowe said the Rhyolite Ridge mine won’t drive Tiehm’s buckwheat to extinction. He noted that mining activities won’t touch any subpopulations of Tiehm’s buckwheat — although the quarry could come as close as a dozen feet.

“We had to make sure we put buffer zones. We had to map all the plants,” he said.

So who’s right?

Bernard Rowe, managing director at Ioneer, discusses the company’s planned lithium mine in Esmeralda County, Nevada.

(Jonathan Shifflett)

It would be easy to make the company look like the bad guy. After all, here’s a profit-seeking foreign corporation seeking to exploit America’s public lands in the name of environmental progress. Potentially at the expense of an endangered species. With only a band of hardy activists standing in the way.

It’s a good story. Arguably an accurate story. And yet…

And yet the climate crisis makes everything complicated. To phase out oil and natural gas — whose combustion fills the air with deadly pollution and fuels devastating storms, wildfires and heat waves — we’ll need enormous amounts of lithium, for electric vehicle batteries and solar energy storage to keep the lights on after dark. Most of the world’s lithium is currently produced in Australia and China, and at destructive evaporation ponds in Chile.

Those geopolitical dynamics help explain why lithium mining has garnered bipartisan support even as President Trump kills other clean energy projects. The Biden administration approved Rhyolite Ridge last year, then backed the developer with a $996-million loan. The Trump administration has let both decisions stand.

Already, Rowe estimated, the U.S. consumes 100,000 tons of lithium carbonate per year for electric car batteries.

“By the time you add in grid batteries, hand tools, recreational vehicles, cellphones … it will soon be hundreds of thousands of tons,” he said. “And into the future, it’ll be 1 million tons of domestic demand.”

Let’s say the Rhyolite Ridge’s critics are right, and the mine would, in fact, annihilate Tiehm’s buckwheat. Is that a reasonable price to pay for ditching oil-burning cars and shutting down gas-fired power plants?

The answer might depend on your vantage point.

Botanist Naomi Fraga examines Tiem’s buckwheat on a hill near the planned site of the Rhyolite Ridge lithium mine.

(Jonathan Shifflett)

Take Fraga. She was born and raised in Southern California’s San Gabriel Valley and is now a botany professor at Claremont Graduate University. She started doing research in Nevada a few years before the COVID-19 pandemic. She sees Rhyolite Ridge as part of a landscape so unique it might be a national monument were it in California.

Rowe, meanwhile, grew up in an Australian farm town. He was inspired to study geology by a university lecturer’s tales of travel and adventure, which led him to the mining industry. He’s spent 20 years splitting his time between Sydney and Nevada, where he helped identify the value in Rhyolite Ridge’s mineral deposits.

Part of the value is lithium. The rest is boron, a durable, heat-resistant metalloid. Rowe could riff for hours about the vast array of products that require boron, including steel alloys, carpet fibers, car parts, wind turbine magnets and many types of glass, including cookware, windshields, TV screens and thermal insulation.

Right now, Turkey is the world’s top boron producer by far. Rhyolite Ridge was a rare find.

“Most other metal deposits — copper, gold — they can be quite young, in terms of a few million years old. Or they can be hundreds of millions, even a billion years old,” Rowe said. “You don’t find old boron deposits.”

For Rowe, Rhyolite Ridge is treasure buried in plain sight. For Fraga, it’s just the latest example of callous outsiders attempting to exploit Nevada’s public lands — a history that began with silver mining and continues with housing development, solar farms and nuclear waste storage. Nevada is already home to America’s only active lithium mine, not far from Rhyolite Ridge. The Thacker Pass mine is also under construction near the Oregon border.

Angelenos driving electric vehicles ought to think about how their choices affect Nevada, Fraga suggested.

“There’s a real tension there, where we need to avert the worst of the climate crisis. But in doing so, we can cause real harm to ecosystems,” she said.

So how do we resolve that tension?

Tiehm’s buckwheat in bloom.

(Naomi Fraga)

I put off writing this column for three months because I didn’t have a good answer. How could I defend the mine when it might doom an endangered species? Yet how could I condemn it when we need lithium, and when so few large-scale clean energy projects don’t face environmental conflicts?

As far as the sparring parties are concerned, the facts speak for themselves. Ioneer points to a biological opinion from the U.S. Fish and Wildlife Service concluding that its mine is “not likely to jeopardize the continued existence” of Tiehm’s buckwheat or “result in the destruction or adverse modification of its critical habitat.”

Conservationists counter that when the Fish and Wildlife Service declared the flower an endangered species in 2022, the agency described “mineral exploration and development” as one of the “greatest threats” to the flower. The Center for Biological Diversity, the Western Shoshone Defense Project and Great Basin Resource Watch sued federal officials over their approval of the mine last year, contending they rushed the environmental review.

It’s possible we’ll never know who’s right. Ioneer is scrambling to secure new funding after the South African firm Sibanye-Stillwater — which was supposed to invest $490 million — backed out this year amid falling global lithium prices. Ioneer said this month it wouldn’t start construction until at least March. If and when the company is ready to start digging, the groups in the lawsuit could ask the judge to block construction.

But whatever happens at Rhyolite Ridge, these types of questions aren’t going away — especially in the American West, where public lands have traditionally supplied big cities with energy, water and food. We’ll need to be more thoughtful than ever about how we use land. We’ll need to get comfortable evaluating trade-offs.

In an ideal world, we’d never have to choose between lithium mines and lovely flowers. Or at least, we’d find ways to resolve these types of conflicts amicably — and quickly, because climate chaos is coming fast.

Sometimes it’s possible. Alas, sometimes we’ll have to choose.

This is the latest edition of Boiling Point, a newsletter about climate change and the environment in the American West. Sign up here to get it in your inbox. And listen to our Boiling Point podcast here.

For more climate and environment news, follow @Sammy_Roth on X and @sammyroth.bsky.social on Bluesky.

Out on the moody, flame-licked front patio of Mojave Gold in Yucca Valley, Ryan and Alexis Gutierrez took in their first goth show in their new neighborhood.

The couple had just moved to the high desert from the Inland Empire, and given the considerable face tattoo count between them, they’d been looking for some witchy fellow travelers.

After watching the electro project Tantra Punk’s set — a singer marauding across the stage, fogged over with blood-colored lights — the couple passed by a merch booth hawking fresh herbs planted in tiny metal pots. The two were pleasantly surprised they’d found their people here.

“I didn’t even know there was a scene for this out here,” Alexis said. “I literally just passed this place and thought it looked hip. We used to drive to San Diego for something like this.”

“It’s kind of slower out here in the desert, but there’s things like this that make it fun,” Ryan said, “Being in the alternative scene, having shows like this is really important to us.”

The six-week-old Mojave Gold is the most promising new entry in a desert music scene that, lately, has seen its share of high-stakes ownership drama at venues like Pappy & Harriet’s and the Alibi. Mojave Gold’s owners are betting on a more permanent, independent-minded scene for local acts and edgier nightlife in its wake.

“A part of why we moved here 10 years ago was that there are so many amazing musicians, and a lot more people live here now,” said the venue’s co-owner Cooper Gillespie. “I’m like, ‘Yes, bring on all the amazing music venues and new places for the music community to be.’”

The bar inside the nightclub is decorated in gold colors at Mojave Gold, a brand new music venue near Joshua Tree that’s counting on a continued interest in year-round nightlife in the fast-gentrifying area.

(Gina Ferazzi / Los Angeles Times)

While Joshua Tree is famous for its rough-and-tumble (if sometimes set decorated) roadhouse aesthetic, Mojave Gold looks more like it zigged left up the 111 from Palm Springs. A black and gilt disco vibe permeates the 500-capacity space, from the undulating wood ceiling made from salvaged Hollywood Bowl seats to velveteen booths and a winking poster advertising Quaaludes.

“There’s a purposeful make-out corner,” said Mojave Gold’s interior designer Brookelyn Fox, wryly arching her eyebrows toward the rear of the venue.

Mojave Gold’s attached restaurant is worth a visit in its own right (a cactus and citrus ceviche, charred cauliflower steak and a chocolate mole custard looked especially eye-catching). But in a small town with an outsize presence on the region’s music scene, it could help turn the area into a year-round tour stop in its own right and become a new festival-season mainstay.

“If you’ve got all these bands playing Coachella every year, well, only one of them is going to be able to play Saturday night at Pappy’s,” said Dale Fox, who manages the venue’s financing. “Now, there’s another place.”

Landers residents Gillespie and her Mojave Gold co-founder Greg Gordon are both former Pappy’s employees, working under longtime owners Robyn Celia and Linda Krantz. They suspected there was room for more live music than that beloved and hotly contested venue could handle year-round. They had their eyes on the former AWE Bar space since it closed after a brief run in 2023, with ambitions to rebuild it into a locals-first venue.

Patrons gather in the outdoor patio adjacent to the nightclub at Mojave Gold.

(Gina Ferazzi / Los Angeles Times)

“The space and the time we’ve had is so much more than we could have done in L.A.” Gillespie said. “Everything takes a lot of time and money in the city, and out here, I feel like there’s a lot more space in all aspects of your life to create. We’ll have national acts, but also bring up our local talent and give them opportunities to have a place to call their own.”

They got lucky when Liz Garo, the talent buyer for the late, lamented Alibi in Palm Springs, was unexpectedly free and looking for a new project in the area after decades booking the Echo, Regent and other venues in Los Angeles. The shows so far have spanned the modern desert’s full range of scenes — country dance nights, the scuzzy punk of Throw Rag, cabaret drag acts and gothic folk from Blood Nebraska.

“It was a part of some music scenes where you didn’t even know who’s playing, but you went to the Echo because you knew all your friends were going to be there,” Gillespie said. “That’s what we want this place to be.”

Mojave Gold arrives as a new crop of nightlife spots have opened to serve both desert lifers and newcomers to the small towns near Joshua Tree National Park. The Red Dog Saloon, Más o Menos and the ad hoc gay bar Tiny Pony Tavern have found their footing for more ambitious desert nightlife. There’s still room for more, Gordon said.

“The big surprise for me when we opened, is that there was not one moment where I felt a sense of competition,” Gordon added. “None of the other restaurants or venues had this kind of cutthroat mentality. There’s no zero-sum thinking. I think we’re still so young out here that … everybody adds something to the market.”

Patrons dance to music from local artists on Desert Gothic night at Mojave Gold.

(Gina Ferazzi / Los Angeles Times)

But passions about development run deep out here, especially after the pandemic-fueled boom in property flipping. The sad fate of the now-shuttered Alibi, the brutal court skirmish over Pappy’s and the gleaming nearby Acrisure Arena (which just landed the kickoff date and sole SoCal stop of Paul McCartney’s tour) prove that moneyed interests still have their eye on the area’s land and cultural scene.

For now though, the string of little desert towns are happy the Airbnb flippers have taken a beating and longer-term visions for local culture are taking root. “Shout-out to the city government in Yucca,” Gordon said, saluting. “They’re constantly thinking of ways to beautify the area and respect Old Town and encourage curated growth.”

Patrons dance to Tantra Punk on Desert Gothic night at Mojave Gold.

(Gina Ferazzi / Los Angeles Times)

The Mojave Gold team hopes that this sometimes-shaky boomlet of independent music in the desert can foster a scene like Silver Lake’s in the early 2000s — big enough to be nationally influential, but neighborhood-y enough to roll in twice a week and see where the evening takes you. Even if it’s straight to hell on goth night.

“A big part of those scenes were free or very inexpensive nights when you even if you didn’t have a lot of money, you could go out and have a great time,” Gillespie said. “I hope that the focus here is on fostering the local creative community and not just profiting.”

Josh Jackson’s “The Enduring Wild: A Journey Into California’s Public Lands” is a story of adventures across 41 California landscapes, with photos of beautiful places you are unlikely to have seen, in locations ranging from the Mojave Desert to the Elkhorn Ridge Wilderness in Mendocino County. Early on, the author lays out mind-bending stats: more than 618 million acres in the United States are federally owned public land and 245 million of those belong to the Bureau of Land Management.

Public lands, he notes, “are areas of land and water owned collectively by the citizens and managed by the Federal government.” These lands “are our common ground, a gift of seismic proportions that belongs to all of us.”

Drive across the United States and consider that 28% of all of that is yours. Ours.

Jackson’s assertion that we are all landowners is a clarion call amid a GOP-led push to sell off public land. The shadow of the current assault on public lands weighs heavy while reading this lovely book.

The book has endearing origins. When Jackson could not get a reservation for weekend camping with his kids, a buddy suggested that he try the BLM. Until that moment he had never even heard of the Bureau of Land Management. Yet, 15.3% of the total landmass in California is … BLM.

Jackson starts out with history: All these lands were taken from Native American peoples, and he does not overlook that BLM used to be jokingly referred to as the Bureau of Livestock and Mining. In 1976, a turnaround came via the Federal Land Policy and Management Act, which built a multi-use mandate to emphasize hiking and conservation as much grazing and extraction (a.k.a. mining). This effort to soften the heavy use of public lands by for-profit individuals and companies led to the so-called Sagebrush Rebellion and the election of President Reagan. Arguably, we’ve been struggling with finding the multi-use balance ever after.

Jackson’s first BLM foray was out to the Trona Pinnacles in the Mojave Desert, where he and his two older children camped, playing in a wonderland where “hundreds of tufa spires protrude like drip-style sand castles out of the wide-open desert floor that extend for miles in every direction,” while his wife, Kari, an E.R. nurse, stayed home with their newborn. The pandemic shutdown in 2020 inspired Kari’s suggestion, “Why don’t you start going to see all these BLM lands?”

Jackson’s love affair with BLM lands was not immediate, as just a few miles into his next hike in the Rainbow Basin Natural Area near Barstow, he was underwhelmed, like he was missing something. A few miles later, he sat and considered a Terry Tempest Williams quote from “Refuge”: “If the desert is holy, it is because it is a forgotten place that allows us to remember the sacred. Perhaps that is why every pilgrimage to the desert is a pilgrimage to the self.” Revisiting this quote on repeat, Jackson had an emotional shift, deciding to stop hiking and … start walking.

On his next trip to the Amargosa Canyon, Jackson began by reaching out to the Amargosa Conservancy, learning about the Timbisha Shoshone people whose ancestral land this is, about past mining and dozens of plant and animal species. Committed to going at the pace of discovery, he admired the enchanting, striated geology of Rainbow Mountain, cherished creosote, mesquite and the brave diversity of desert flora and was struck by the gaze of an arrogant coyote. On his return, he found that in three hours, he had only traveled … a mile.

Yet it was during this meander that his writing made a steep drop into seeing, feeling, connecting, plunging toward transcendence.

A highlight of the book is a repeat trip to Central California’s Carrizo Plain, first during a drought, silenced by its sere magnificence. After the heavy rains of 2023, he joined Cal Poly San Luis Obispo botanist Emma Fryer and was overcome by the delirious beauty of a superbloom, feeling like “I had wandered into the Land of Oz.” Fryer observed that the drought was so severe that only the hardy native seed survived within the soil, releasing their beauty the moment water allowed them to come to life. Seeing the same place twice was revelatory, both familiar and completely new.

It’s hard to tell if the places he visits gets more beautiful over the course of the book or his capacity to appreciate them and share his joy has grown. Despite the frequent paucity of BLM cartographic resources, apparently Jackson never got lost or worried about dropping the thread of a trail. Describing his father, Jackson might as well be talking about himself: “I have no memories of my dad being worried or fearful in unfamiliar situations.” Nevertheless, toward the end of the book, when he and his hardy father camped next to the rushing Eel River, Jackson did worry about bears breaking into their tent. Fortunately, the bears did not arrive but, inspired by William Cronon’s “The Trouble With Wilderness,” Jackson’s heart opened as he realized that “Nature” is not out there; nature is wherever we are.

Back in Los Angeles taking long walks with his daughter, past bodegas and car washes, he saw jacaranda, heard owls and coyotes and realized the wild had been here all along. An urban sycamore claimed its space regardless of enclosing cement and car exhaust, as spectacular and venerable as any sycamore in the state.

Can the places Jackson visited for his book endure public larceny? He is tracking the answer to this question, real time, on his Substack, where he’s currently describing the shocking attempts to sell millions of acres of BLM land.

“It’s been a wild few weeks for BLM lands. 540,385 acres in Nevada and Utah were on the chopping block to be sold off,” Jackson recently noted. “Everyone was talking about the land totals — but no one was showing what the landscapes actually looked like. So, I decided to go see them.”

Great advice: Bring a friend, pack water and go.

Watts’ writing has appeared in Earth Island Journal, New York Times motherlode blog, Sierra Magazine and local venues. Her first novel is “Tree.”

Seville is a popular tourist destination in Europe and is famous for its hot weather – but it could be set to become a desert in the next few decades

One of Europe’s “hottest cities” is a major tourist hotspot, but recent scorching temperatures have left some scientists worried.

Sunny Seville is celebrated for its stunning architecture, pulsating nightlife, and, not least, its glorious weather.

With an enviable average of 12 hours of sunshine a day and pleasant temperatures around 21C in March, the Spanish city offers the perfect city break escape while England endures often drearier climes.

Come summer, however, the story changes dramatically. The city faces blistering heatwaves with mercury levels that can soar to a staggering 45C, often proving too much for many tourists.

In recent times, soaring temperatures have raised alarm bells among climate scientists who fear Seville could be on the brink of becoming a desert, dubbing it the “Iberian oven”.

Nestled at the base of nearby mountains, Seville’s landlocked position means it receives hot winds from Africa, which sweep across its plains. Weather experts are issuing stark warnings, suggesting we are “walking into unknown territory… the city is turning into a desert.”

The peak of the scorching heat typically arrives towards the end of July and into August, although this can vary depending on wind patterns. Adventurous souls keen to explore this vibrant metropolis must heed the risks, particularly during the torrid summers when threats of heatstroke and dehydration are ever-present.

August 2023 witnessed the mercury hitting an astounding 40C, with temperatures consistently sizzling in the high 30s throughout the season.

Travel enthusiast Huw Owen recommends spring and autumn getaways for their gentler weather, but reminds summer tourists to find shade from midday until 7 pm and enjoy the cooler evenings.

Seville’s breath-taking Cathedral and Alcazar Royal Palace serve as idyllic sanctuaries from the intense Spanish sun, allowing guests to explore without overexposure.

The British Red Cross has come forward with essential guidance for Britons embarking on sunny escapades this year.

Dr Ellie Murtagh from the charity has offered invaluable advice: “If you are travelling to a country experiencing extreme heat, there are several steps you can take to keep yourself and others safe. This includes wearing sunscreen, staying out of the sun during the warmest hours of the day, drinking plenty of water and drinking less alcohol. You can also help keep wherever you’re staying cool by keeping blinds and windows closed.”

It’s crucial to acknowledge that extreme heat brings significant health risks, particularly for the elderly, pregnant women, and individuals with chronic conditions, so stay cautious and care for one another.

Los Angeles can feel like a microcosm of the whole world, particularly when it comes to dining. At some point, though, the road will call. Maybe it’s a two-hour drive into the desert, or a short flight to the Bay Area, or a quiet coastal stretch where the marine layer doesn’t burn off until early afternoon. There are reasons to go — and eat — everywhere in California.

Mexican, Chinese, Japanese, Korean, French, Ethiopian, Syrian, Italian: As you’ll find in this guide to the 101 Best Restaurants in California, these cuisines embody who we are, and they’re only the jumping-off point. Many entries on the list include additional recommendations, and the Times has previously published deeper dives (based on my ongoing statewide reporting) into San Francisco, San Diego and Palm Springs. More will be coming.

The Rukban displacement camp, which opened and was cut off in the height of the civil war in 2014, housed thousands of people.

The notorious Rukban displacement camp in the Syrian desert, a dark emblem of the country’s civil war, has closed, with the last remaining families returning to their hometowns.

Syrian Information Minister Hamza al-Mustafa said on Saturday on X that with the dismantlement of the camp, “a tragic and sorrowful chapter of displacement stories created by the bygone regime’s war machine comes to a close”.

“Rukban was not just a camp, it was the triangle of death that bore witness to the cruelty of siege and starvation, where the regime left people to face their painful fate in the barren desert,” he added.

The camp, established in 2014 at the height of the country’s ruinous civil war, was built in a deconfliction zone controlled by the United States-led coalition forces fighting against ISIL (ISIS).

The camp was used to house those fleeing ISIL fighters and bombardment by the then-government of President Bashar al-Assad, seeking refuge and hoping to eventually cross the border into Jordan.

But al-Assad’s regime rarely allowed aid to enter the camp as neighbouring countries also blocked access to the area, rendering Rukban isolated for years under a punishing siege.

About 8,000 people lived in the camp, staying in mud-brick houses with food and basic goods smuggled in at high prices.

But after al-Assad was toppled following a lightning offensive led by the current president of Syria’s interim government, Ahmed al-Sharaa, in December, families began leaving the camp and returning home.

Al-Sharaa has promised to unite Syria following the fall of al-Assad and rebuild the country at home and rejoin the international fold abroad.

Last month, al-Sharaa met with world leaders, including United States President Donald Trump, who announced that sanctions on Syria would be removed in a decision that would allow the country a “chance at greatness”. The European Union followed suit and also lifted sanctions. Both moves have given Syria a critical lifeline to economic recovery after nearly 14 years of war and economic devastation.

‘A castle in my eyes’

Yasmine al-Salah, who returned to her home after nine years of displacement in the Rukban camp and marked the Muslim celebration of Eid al-Adha, told The Associated Press news agency on Friday that her feelings are a “happiness that cannot be described”.

“Even though our house is destroyed, and we have no money, and we are hungry, and we have debts, and my husband is old and can’t work, and I have kids – still, it’s a castle in my eyes,” al-Salah said.

Her home in the town of al-Qaryatan in the eastern part of the Homs province was damaged during the war.

Syrian Minister for Emergency Situations and Disasters Raed al-Saleh said on X said the camp’s closure marks “the end of one of the harshest humanitarian tragedies faced by our displaced people”.

“We hope this step marks the beginning of a path that ends the suffering of the remaining camps and returns their residents to their homes with dignity and safety,” he added.

According to the International Organization for Migration, 1.87 million Syrians have returned to their homes since al-Assad’s fall.

King Mala wants to put it all out there. And she is — at a breakneck pace.

The 26-year-old alt-pop singer released her (positively) nightmare-inducing debut album, “And You Who Drowned in the Grief of a Golden Thing,” on May 2. Since then she’s been on the road, touring along the West Coast from Vancouver to Los Angeles in support of Canadian singer Lights. After her recent appearance with Lights at the Roxy, King Mala will return to L.A. for her own headlining show at the Troubadour on June 26.

When joining a Zoom call with The Times, King Mala, whose real name is Areli Castro, admitted to running on fumes. Having just driven from Portland, Ore., to Seattle in the wee hours of the morning, Castro was contending with a central theme of her album in real time: the chasm between her dreams and the limits of her corporeal form.

“There’s this struggle between the things you want and the things you are,” said Castro. “I just love the idea of playing with grandeur and gods while still maintaining a very like human and gross and visceral vibe.”

Despite it all, she’s maintained a sunny disposition — a stark departure from the moody and dramatic feel of singles like “Ode to a Black Hole.” The macabre visuals from her current musical era evoke the same mystical energy as “True Detective” and 2024’s surprise horror hit, “Longlegs.”

Born in the border town of El Paso to a Mexican father and Puerto Rican mother, the musician grew up attending Catholic church and listening to a lot of soul music, a genre she now describes as her “bread and butter.” While she doesn’t feel stereotypically Texan, Castro still feels spiritually yoked to El Paso.

“El Paso is very, very non-Texas,” Castro said. “When I go to the rest of Texas, I’m like, ‘This isn’t my Texas.’ I grew up on [the] border — Southwestern vibes — and it’s so different than Austin or Dallas. I feel like a desert witch.”

That desert witchiness emanates from the mesmerizing sonic loops and negative space deployed in her songs, which she pairs with “found” footage inspired by ghost hunting shows, ornate Catholic crosses and sandy landscapes captured in her music videos.

Castro also spoke with The Times about how she mapped out her debut album and the life experiences that helped shape her gothic sensibilities.

This interview has been edited and shortened for clarity.

When it comes to the aesthetics of the album, it employs a lot of religious aspects. What was the intention with that?
I love religious metaphor. I find it so grand and ancient and fun to use as a vehicle to tell a story. I’m very obsessed with the collective unconscious and how we keep telling the same stories over and over and over. So using stories that I really admire as the vehicle for this was really fun. There’s just a power struggle in this album that I wanted to capture. And it felt like using the metaphor of God and humanity and of, “How do you exist as a powerful person, while also still maintaining your humanity?” That was the whole point of the album.

Does that attraction to religion and these grand ideas come from your own habit or was it a thing from when you were growing up that influenced you?
I grew up very Catholic, like cradle Catholic. My grandma always wanted us to go to Mass, so we adhered to that. But I was home schooled and the home school community is very Christian. And so I was sort of indoctrinated into that for a good amount of my formative years — middle school [and] early high school. It was very harmful and strange.

It was very interesting to see how predatory the religion is. It’s looking for kids who are lonely and scared and promising solace, which is nice, but then there’s always a backhand that’s like, “Oh, but you have to do this and you have to adhere to this and you have to follow our rules.”

Yeah, I’ve got a little bit of religious trauma to say the least. … Once I was out of that cycle and community, I realized it’s really all very similar to a cult. At what point does a cult transition into just a full religion? Is it just enough people believe it? I don’t know. So that was a bunch of the stuff that I was thinking about as we made this.

What are some media that you draw inspiration from?
I’m a big, big, big horror girlie. So that was a big inspiration. I love that being a human is so gross and I feel like we don’t realize that half the time because we’re so used to it. I love body horror. I love [movies like] “The Substance” and “The Witch.” I’m very obsessed with Robert Eggers and the way he makes beautiful, beautiful horror.

Going into [the album] I wanted to do it the way we did humanity. I wanted it to be very gross and visceral and real and if we were going to do sexy, I wanted it to be very raw. And if we were going to do body horror, I wanted it to be very intentional and intense.

Do you feel like the grossness of being human is kind of beautiful?
I love it. We’re so weird, especially our relationships to each other. It’s so sweet and strange and we love to hold hands and touch our mouths together. It’s so cute and gross and funny. I love thinking of us like we’re aliens. Like if some other creature saw us, they’d be like, “What the f— are they doing?” It’s really funny.

Are there musical acts that you drew inspiration from for this album?
For this record, we drew a lot of inspiration from “22, a Million” by Bon Iver, from Radiohead, from old school hip hop and rap. Kendrick Lamar and old Kanye West … We had a big playlist. Phantogram was on there, The xx is on there, Portishead, Little Simz — she was a big inspo — Doechii, Rico Nasty.

I was drawing from a bunch of different directions. [The production team] knew we had to create this sonic landscape before we started making the record. We wanted to do analog drums and hip-hop beats with reverbed-out, textural guitar, à la Mk.gee. We just wanted it to feel alive and analog.

What do you want people to get out of your live show?
I want people to ascend and join the character. I want it to feel like a movie. I want these songs to live and breathe and sort of experience themselves through everyone in the audience. I think live shows create like such an energy between people. I want it to feel like we’re going to church, like we’re going on a journey together. That’s the goal.