Places That Were

East Jesus is a sculpture garden on the outskirts of Slab City, created in 2007 by Charlie Russell. After his death in 2011, a nonprofit organization called The Chasterus Foundation was created to ensure the sculpture garden's future. The name East Jesus is not intended to hold any religious connotations, but is a colloquialism similar to "bumfuck Egypt", meaning "the middle of nowhere".


Shortly after I arrived, a friendly guy came outside and told me to feel free to look around. He said everything was made from garbage and therefore could not be broken or stolen because it was, after all, trash.

A robot and his pet toaster

Surprisingly, I was the only visitor. I spent the better part of an hour walking around and admiring the sculptures, but no one else showed up the entire time I was there.
Several junked cars had been repurposed as art installations.





Many of the pieces had humorous or thought provoking messages.



Many of the sculptures were huge, and clearly took a lot of time and effort to build.

If Charles had been with me, we would have taken turns posing beneath this one with terrified looks.

I'd like to come back to East Jesus in a few years and see what new pieces have been added and how the old ones have held up over time.

I laughed when I read this, and then contributed a few dollars.

The lot adjacent to East Jesus

A nearby trailer

When I finished exploring East Jesus I hit the road to resume my course around the Salton Sea. Leaving Slab City and heading back out into reality was a strange feeling. Fortunately I had only just begun my road trip and didn't have to return to reality quite yet.


I had a quick look at a few more derelict buildings in the towns surrounding Salton Sea.


I stopped at an abandoned marina that stunk of dead fish, but enjoyed another beautiful sunset over the silver waters.

The salt covering the sand looked like frost

In some places, the layer of salt crust on the rocks was very thick.

I reached the abandoned Salton City Marina as night fell, and captured several grainy photos, disappointed that I hadn't gotten there earlier.




I ran into some teenagers who were looking through a storage container, lighting newspapers on fire to see inside. I asked what they were doing, and they said they were just looking for "shit to fuck around with." I think I scared them off because they left in a hurry.

I drove north and parked at a truck stop for the night. It was only the end of my second day on the road, and already I had seen so many amazing places. I could hardly wait to get started again in the morning to explore the amazing semi-abandoned town of Desert Center, CA.

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The colorful lump of painted straw and adobe disappeared from my rear view as I drove the bumpy dirt road to Slab City. I passed a small concrete structure painted with a cheerful greeting.


The little guard station was one of the few remaining relics from Fort Dunlap, a World War II-era Marine training base. Built in 1942, the base was dismantled in 1956, leaving only the concrete slabs for which Slab City is named.


A bulletin board stands along the inroad, crowned by a neat old bike. I was surprised to see how empty the board was. I guess I'd imagined more open invitations for community activities.


As on Salvation Mountain, Christianity is the only religion that announces itself. The Christian church stands near the bulletin board, two symbols of community at Slab City's entrance.


A group of signs along the main road point to some of Slab City's notable locations. I was intrigued by the alien crash site, wondering if it was some sort of art installation or if someone believed it actually was the site where an extraterrestrial vehicle had crashed. I never managed to find out.


The people of Slab City are incredibly creative. You need only glimpse their homesteads to see it.



I wondered if their creative potential only emerged after they disconnected from commercialism and conformity, or if artists' instinct had driven them to seek a more liberating environment.




In 1965 people began migrating to Slab City to live off the grid. The settlement lacks infrastructure such as electricity, running water, sewers, or trash pickup service, though the residents have found ways to live without them. Many homes have generators or solar panels.


Slab City has a cafe,


an outdoor cinema,


several 24-hour libraries,



and even a concert venue.



I like to support unique local businesses, so I stopped at the café. It appeared to be little more than a large tent with tables and chairs. I walked around but could find no counter or anyone who seemed to work there. A handful of people sat around a table, engaged in conversation, but I did not approach them because I'd read that Slab City residents are not crazy about outsiders. As I was leaving, a skinny old man with long white hair walked outside and pissed near the wall, not 10 feet from the doorway.

I headed over to East Jesus, a sculpture garden on the outskirts of Slab City. On the way, I came to a fork in the road. Literally. Beside it was a sign for West Satan, the ironically named piece of land next to East Jesus.



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