wacky tacky Icons: Pancho Barnes

If it seems that a disproportionate number of wacky tacky icons are of the female persuasion, it is only because these women are always doing awesome things and inspiring us in ways that leave us yearning to adventure more, accomplish more, create more, and be more.  Such is the case with 20th-Century America's most exciting stunt woman, aviatrix, rancher, and entrepreneuse, Pancho Barnes.

Florence Lowe "Pancho" Barnes
July 14, 1901 - March 30, 1975
(Source) 

Born into Pasadena society, Barnes was a rebel from year one.  Failing out of school and running away to Mexico on horseback are but two of her more-tame adolescent escapades.  An inveterate prankster, she once left a suicide note for her private school roommate to find as Barnes lay prone on the floor covered in red ink.  The fact that she had a penchant for raunchy storytelling and salty language made her first marriage to a minister an unlikely one.  The union resulted in a child but a conventional life was not to be.  An experienced horsewoman, Barnes took jobs as trainer and stuntwoman in traveling rodeos and in film.  There is so much to be said for and about Pancho Barnes; but with it so eloquently and expertly stated here and here, for wacky tacky purposes, we'll just stick to a few highlights.

1928

Barnes befriends actor Ramon Navarro and introduces him 

to photographer George Hurrell, aiding the careers of both.

(Source)

1930
Barnes beats Amelia Earhart's air-speed record, taking
her plane, "Mystery Ship," upwards of 196 MPH.
(Source)

1931
Barnes founds the Associated Motion Picture Pilots,
a union representing stunt pilots in Hollywood.
(Source)

1935
Barnes moves from Los Angeles to the Antelope Valley, creating a working ranch 
with enough room to test the latest in jet fighters and other aeronautical advances.
(Source)

1946
Barnes turns her ranch into the Fly-Inn/Happy Bottom Riding Club,
a members only resort/dude ranch/social club/air field for celebrity
clientele and airmen from the local airfield.

(Source)

1953
Barnes' victory celebration (aided by pal, Chuck Yeager) over the US Air Force
 and their attempt to expand Edwards Air Force Base onto her property, is short-
lived when an unexplained fire ravages her entire compound, leaving her home-
less and near bankruptcy in Southern California's most parched territory.
(Source)

Southern California is not known for its hill country.  Consequently, our hillbilly population is small, dwelling mostly under the shady canopies of Big Bear's pine forests and perhaps cowering beneath the stuccoed toadstools of Santa's Village.  Instead, the majority of our societal misfits find refuge way out in the desert, creating a new breed of banjo-playing, redheaded step-children known as "desert rats."  It should come as little surprise then that I love the desert, taking any opportunity to explore its eerily-quiet, sunburned landscape and dreaming of the day I too can claim full-time rat status.  When I learned that Pancho Barnes' last home was still standing in the tiny desert community of Boron, CA, we loaded the wacky wagon with provisions and hit the 20-Mule-Team Trail to the home of both Borax and Barnes.

The Barnes Estate
Not exactly the Hollywood House Hunting to which we've become so accustomed.

After four failed marriages, the protracted legal battle with the US government over land rites, and the mystery fire that destroyed her entire resort, Barnes ended up broke but not broken in the tiny town of Boron, a factory mining town.  Feeling betrayed by some of her best clients, Barnes retreated into her modest home in the Mojave Desert.  Because the door to the house was wide open (read: nonexistent), we decided to show ourselves in.

Our self-guided tour began as we entered under the faltering, homemade, lean-to porch arrangement.  It became apparent that even though the four-room, stone house sits on some acreage, the years of dereliction (evidenced by boarded up windows, graffiti, and general decay), have left it uninhabitable...nothing a little of Mr. Tiny's magic couldn't fix.

It was much darker in the room than this picture would indicate.
There was some kind of cellar but as it appeared to be just a giant
pit, I adhered quite strictly to the rules of my horror movie training.
DON'T GO IN THE BASEMENT!!!

The remnants of the restroom painted a somewhat sunnier picture.

But even a boisterous desert dweller needs her privacy...

Because she was such fixture of the "high desert," many members of the community feel like they knew her personally.  In fact, many of them only really knew her by reputation alone, their anecdotes supported by the recitation of now-legendary stories told by older generations.  One person we met in town remembered Barnes as a "real character" citing that it was oft said that "she had a face like a bag of worms!!!" 

We felt like we were touching a part of aviation history when we found
the basin in which she washed her hands and her bag of worms face.

Within one hundred miles of Pasadena, Boron is somehow worlds away from the privileged upbringing and rakish lifestyle Barnes had always enjoyed.  In a town perpetually under the spell of the sandman, it appeared that Barnes would live out her remaining days in utter obscurity.  Her high-flying adventures, however, could be forgotten by neither her community nor her Happy Bottom cohorts.  In 1964, having been reintroduced to some of her old friends and colleagues, Barnes was was named the "First Citizen of Edwards Air Force Base" and scheduled regularly as a guest lecturer until her death in 1975.  Since 1980, November 7 has been dedicated as Pancho Barnes Day, marked by a yearly celebration at the USAF Test Pilot School at Edwards Air Force Base.

"Where's the party?"
(Source)

We choose to celebrate Pancho Barnes as an icon all year long because, unpretentious and a little naughty, she pioneered aviation, women's rights, and wacky tacky living without even trying!  It's great to know that Valerie Bertinelli will always be there to celebrate with us - and that's no sack of worms!!!

Pancho Barnes starring Valerie Bertinelli (1988)

Cheers!

Mr. Tiny

Reckless Abandon: THANKful for Deserted Domiciles

It is that time of year again when we Americans show our gratitude for the abundance with which we live through a glorious display of gluttony and greed.  First we gorge ourselves on a disgraceful amount of food and then we trample each other for discounted electronics that we cannot afford anyway; seriously, every year the news is chock full of footage of people injuring (sometimes killing) their fellow human beings to get a TV/cell phone/video game console with built-in obsolescence.  Can you tell that I am a bit of a humbug when it comes to the contemporary holiday tradition?  Having worked in retail for many seasons, I like to count my blessings as far away from shopping malls as possible.  The furthest locale for my kind of gratitude is the desert and the places that remind me to be grateful for all that I have are the decaying, abandoned houses along the highway. 

There comes a moment in every fervent search for a very particular abandoned, desert house when one realizes that in the search, one has driven past a hundred abandoned, desert houses - all worthy of exploration.  As it turns out, the desert isn't just untamed winds and prehistoric flora, it is a vast frontier of never ending opportunities for exploring abandoned properties.  The combination of the feeling that you're doing something naughty with the opportunity you have to make up a history for the property and its former occupants turns what is really an innocuous activity into something very exciting.  So, with reckless abandon we set out to explore these abandoned wrecks.  

"Danny was here"

Our first stop was this abandoned house in Yucca Valley, Twenty Nine Palms???  Wherever it was, it was a sweet little house.  Based on the remaining fixtures and the style, the house appears to have been built in the late 1940's/early 1950's.

You know those times when you jokingly pretend you're modeling and
the result is a super-uncomfortable photograph that you insist on sharing
 with the world anyway?  This is not that...obviously.

Decorating by paintball - interesting choice.
The scalloped trim and the radius shelves made we want to move
 in and save this place.

Some wallpaper was still intact because it was on the kitchen ceiling.

A large service porch had a sink and room for washer,
dryer, ironing board, and storage.  Is it weird that I have turned
this into real estate shopping rather than a gritty examination
 of this abandoned, and undoubtedly haunted, shack? 

Speaking of all things haunted - even in the full light of day,
 the house was a little spooky and came complete with the obligatory
disembodied doll arm.

The landscaping and lawn ornaments were atmospheric
but all in all they left something to be desired.
I did bring a souvenir home - the Frigidaire name plate.

The climbing tree was pretty awesome though

And then there was the fiberglass go kart body
parked in the breakfast nook and another on the side yard.

It is hard to find logic in an abandoned desert home but we just couldn't get over the go karts; why were they there?  Were the previous residents professionals on the international go kart circuit?   Were they working on a fossil-fuel-free transportation system for city residents?  Were these rejects from Autopia that Disneyland was stashing in the desert?  The answer came a short while later when we followed the lighthouse in the distance.

Our beacon

Even in a defunct state, this stately architecture lit our way to our next abandoned location - a family fun center!

Complete with racetrack and more go karts!!!

Mr. Tiny had the bright idea to bring a bit of the lighthouse
 home but what does one do with a gable full of termites and
rusty nails?

Man, oh man, would I like this for the backyard though.
You know I love a good water feature.

A short but challenging course.

Smith's Ranch, while technically not abandoned, fell into the "abandoned" category because it was desolate when we found it; the dusty floor of this primitive drive-in theater combined with the fierce winds definitely lent a feeling that no one had populated its grounds in many years.

Smith's Ranch plays up-to-date pictures

While there are still plenty of flickers yet to be played at Smith's Ranch,
it seemed like a screening of The Last Picture Show would be entirely apropos.

We were feeling so high on our abandoned adventures that we thought nothing could bring us down...

And then Mary was taken out by a giant arrow.

Whether your celebrations find you heading to the middle of the desert or to the comfort of your family home, we wish you a functioning wacky wagon, a roadside filled with wonder, and a very Happy Thanksgiving - you turkeys!!!  

(Source)

We have much to be thankful for and while we are in a thankful frame of mind, we must again thank you for all of your support!  Thanks for following along and thanks especially for your wonderful comments.  In our next post, we will have an exciting announcement and an opportunity to show our gratitude with a GIVEAWAY!

Cheers!

Mr. Tiny