Slab City - A Peek Into ‘The 'Last Free Place on Earth'

As I left Joshua Tree on a scorching 106-degree Tuesday afternoon, the idea of visiting Slab City popped into my head. Known as a strange hotspot for off-the-grid artists and wanderers, I figured, why not? It turned out I was only 30 minutes away as I, rather ironically, passed signs for Palm Springs.

Cruising through dusty back roads, and what seemed like a forgotten little town, I started to wonder if I was lost. Miles of nothing but phone wires and scorching sand stretched out before me. But I kept on, and suddenly, like a mirage in the desert, there it was - Salvation Mountain (the iconic face of Slab City).

With my car's temperature gauge reading a blistering 115 degrees, I practically dove out of the car, dousing myself in water for some relief. To my surprise, I was the only out-of-towner there, greeted by a local guy sporting a hat with antlers sticking out and his dog cooling down in a makeshift hole to escape the heat. He kindly (and rather surprisingly, given the totally unhinged nature of the environment) reminded me to keep my mask on, and we chatted for a bit.

I couldn't resist asking about what day to day life was like there and what the attitude of the community seemed to reflect. He confirmed that living in Slab City was indeed completely free, but that laws were still enforced (I had to hold back a chuckle.. it felt like we could have been in a scene from Mad Max). The contrast in population between seasons really left me astounded - he said the community grew from 200 people in summer to a bustling 2,000 during fall and winter!

After chatting, I hopped back in the car and drove around rather aimlessly for a little while. It really was a ghost town - apparently everyone was off together at some kind of market day to exchange vegetables and trading goods. Makeshift signs marked the roads and I noticed a compound that had assumed the title of ‘neighborhood watch’, with a big sign that read, ‘You Loot, We Shoot!’. The man living there was a war veteran.

I let myself be curiously guided through the eclectic mix of the ‘slabs’: run-down RVs, handcrafted shelters, and arranged "junk" that lent an air of intentional eccentricity to the landscape. Murals, sculptures, and poems etched onto flat surfaces spoke to the spirit of resilience, tenacity, and the courage to seek true freedom.

I finally weaseled my way over to the enclave known as "East Jesus," where iconic TVs mingled with a sculpture garden and a surprisingly intact abandoned airplane. Before finding a parking spot, a little shop caught my eye, where I was greeted by the enchanting Dot! She treated me to some wild stories as she showed me around her home, ranging from the macabre to the sobering.. inviting humor and introspection, equally. Her space was a never-ending maze of bright fabrics draped from every height, makeup and skincare strewn about, half-finished art projects, and strange and exciting knick knacks.

Take a listen to the recording I took as we walked together (audio download).

Leaving, I carried with me a newfound appreciation for life's endless possibilities and the transformative power of embracing alternative perspectives. In a world often constrained by norms and expectations, this desert oasis served as an important reminder that true freedom lies in the willingness to explore our own limitations and judgements.

I think one of the most expansive things we can do for ourselves is stretch our perception, and be open to a completely different way of existing. Our empathy deepens from this place, and our curiosity lends itself to bigger bursts of inspiration.