Fish Creek Wash cuts through Anza-Borrego's badlands in dramatic fashion: a sandy wash that squeezes into a slot canyon narrow enough to brush both mirrors, with sandstone walls rising overhead in sharp, wind-carved layers. Running it in a couple of built rigs meant picking lines through soft sand and loose rock while the canyon walls glowed gold in the late afternoon light.

We camped up on a ridge overlooking the valley, watching the sun drop behind the mountains before settling in for the night. Anza-Borrego has a way of feeling enormous and empty in exactly the right way: no crowds, no noise, just desert stretching out in every direction.