He begansewing in Nebraska, but the fabric rotted one winter

Tag : straw fabric

This past weekend, we heeded the strange siren call of the SaltonSea and drove once again into Imperial Valley. As an amateurphotographer and a collector of stories, Imperial Valley has becomean obsession. There are incredible images at every turn andgenerous storytellers -- real characters with a weathered butreliable charisma. You meet them in the strangest places. This isthe story of meeting one in the middle of the desert.
I've spent a fair bit of time around the Salton Sea (though itnever seems like enough) and some surreal story always emerges frommy visits to the Valley. Last July, we went to Bombay Beach and Ihad a terrifying encounter with thousands (millions!) of fliestrapped in a car... OUR CAR! And I'm not talking regular ole flies;I'm talking flies that had just been hobnobbing on rotting fish. Apparently bored with miles of fish carcasses, swarms of fliesdecided to bum rush our car (more advice: even if you are in the110 degree heat of Bombay Beach, don't leave your car windowcracked. The flies will find you). And you know what? There'sonly one way to get rid of those suckers... you just have to get inthe car and drive. Imagine it right now, sitting at your desk,what it would be like to get in a sauna-like car with thousands offlies and the stench of dead fish -- now imagine having to sitthere with them all over you while driving as fast as you can withthe windows down so they would fly out. I'm telling you, it testedmy mettle and, well... I personally think I'm special forcesmaterial now.
Anyway, for this trip, I wanted to see Salvation Mountain and SlabCity, sans flies. Both places were featured in two recent films: a documentary called Plagues and Pleasures on the Salton Sea (narrated by John Waters!) and Into the Wild , last year's feature film directed by Sean Penn.
Slab City and Salvation Mountain are in the middle of the Mojavedesert, about three miles east of Niland, California, at the footof the Chocolate Mountains. Driving through Brawley and Niland, wewere a little worried about getting lost. Having left the GPS athome (another genius move), we figured we'd rely on the old schoolmethod of a paper map.

Words of advice: If you can't GPS, then you best not forget tolaminate.
It turns out Salvation Mountain isn't hard to find. Once you get toNiland, just go to Main Street (not that many streets to beginwith) and head east. Before the road bends, you catch a glimpse ofthe colorful, candy-like mountain in the distance. I can't imaginewhat it would be like to just stumble upon Salvation Mountain. Driving in the desert involves observations like: "wow, look atthat cactus," and, "boy, is it hot out here," and "I wonder ifthere are rattlesnakes," not "hey, check out the brightly-coloredmountian spouting Bible verse." And that's why you have to seeSalvation Mountain; it's so wonderfully strange and alien.

Salvation Mountain is the work of one man with lots of paint and asimple message: God is Love. Originally, Leonard Knight thoughthe'd spread the word of God through a hot air balloon,because...you know... why not?
He spent 10 years trying to raise the money for the balloon andthen decided he would try and sew it together himself. He begansewing in Nebraska, but the fabric rotted one winter, and whenLeonard moved to Slab City he discovered his project wasn'tsalvageable. It was time to give up the hot air balloon dream andfigure out what to do next. It occurred to him that he could painta mountain into the landscape. To that I just say: it's thedesert. Trippy ideas bounce off the land left and right. Onecould attribute Leonard's dream to the desert heat or his pureevangelism, but either way I'm sure glad he stuck to it.
Leonard estimates it's taken over 100,000 gallons of paint to makethe mountain, which is constructed out of adobe and straw. Leonardhas worked on it year round for almost 30 years. In the summermonths, he works early in the morning and naps during the extremeheat. If you visit, he'll be there giving tours, telling you abouthis mission, and posing for pictures.
Leonard lives right at the base of Salvation Mountain, in a vintagetruck with a makeshift cabin built on the back. The truck is alsopainted in bold colors with Bible verses. Leonard has noelectricity, water, or a bathroom. He's off the grid, but has anentire mountain to show for it.
Tourists and residents of Slab City and Niland bring him food andpaint. Some even stick around to work with him for a couple ofhours.
I read that some years back, a dust up ensued over whetherSalvation Mountain was an environmental hazard. There's probablytons of lead on that thing. Nothing much came of the controversyand in 2002, Senator Barbara Boxer placed Salvation Mountain on theCongressional Record as a national treasure. Leonard must havetold us this four or five times. He's so proud that someone thinksit's a treasure.
Leonard is 77 years old. Salvation Mountain is now protected, butit's all the more special when you can see it with him. Go visit. Bring him some paint or make a donation.
Leonard Knight is an outsider artist, a missionary, and a classicdreamer. You gotta love dreamers in the desert.