I first came to know this special place from the air. Flying over the badlands toward the Salton Sea, I saw the ancient patterns of water, wind and geology written across the land.
From a distance, the desert appeared barren. At ground level, however, it was alive with resilience. Ocotillos waited patiently for rain. Wildflowers appeared almost overnight. Coyotes, roadrunners, bighorn sheep and countless smaller creatures flourished under conditions that would defeat almost anything else.
An emergency physician and helicopter pilot I know follows the annual Baja 1000, the famous off-road race across Mexico’s Baja Peninsula. Anyone with a driver’s license and the courage to tackle a thousand miles of punishing desert terrain can enter. When the inevitable accident occurs, my friend lands his helicopter and provides medical assistance. He began looking for a home in Borrego with enough room to park his helicopter. He considered the Borrego Air Ranch, but then an opportunity arose in the foothills near Agua Caliente. He bought an old ranch house in a remote meadow with two year-round oasis ponds.
Today, his helipad sits beside a treehouse perched atop six pylons in a grove of palms. Inspired by his desert retreat, I built our own: the
Pilot House at Borrego Valley Airport.
Why Borrego?
Because the changing landscape stretches toward the Salton Sea, and the night sky remains dark enough to remind us that we occupy only a tiny corner of an immense universe. Out here, silence has a presence of its own. It gives you room to think, to write, to remember, and occasionally to discover something new about yourself.
That same resilience is reflected in the people who live here; a genuine community of artists, pilots, business owners, volunteers, retirees, teachers, conservationists and those who arrived by unconventional routes. Many could have lived anywhere, yet they chose this place beyond the gravitational pull of the city, where they could create lives on their own terms. I also love that Borrego Valley has one of the finest general aviation airports in the Southwest. The Propeller restaurant could become a popular destination for aviators. All it needs is someone with the vision and determination to make it happen.
Years ago, I walked past a gravestone bearing these words:
Your Life Goes By in the Blink of an Eye – SO DO SOMETHING WITH IT.
I don’t know whose grave it marked, but the message stayed with me. In fact, it inspired much of my work with the Ram Media Foundation, KRAM-FM and the Borrego Sun. Bringing FM radio to the valley and helping preserve its community newspaper have been deeply gratifying. A community needs a place to tell its stories and a way to remain connected, especially when the nearest metropolitan center feels a world away. Borrego is a natural home for stories because the landscape already seems half real and half mythical. The Salton Sea shimmers in the distance like a warning… or perhaps a promise. Abandoned structures hint at forgotten dreams. Sudden storms transform dry washes into rivers. The desert constantly reminds us that nature is powerful, patient and never entirely predictable.
Most of all, I love Borrego Valley because it makes me feel more alive. Here, I can dream by day and step outside at night beneath the Milky Way, shining through the inky darkness. The pace slows, yet life becomes sharper. Borrego Springs is beautiful without being polished, welcoming without surrendering its solitude, and fragile without being weak. It refuses to be conquered. It asks only that we pay attention.
And when we do, it rewards us with something increasingly rare: a profound sense of place.