A Big Rock - Really Big!

I (John) was recently asked if I would be interested in seeing a pot o noodle. Not much into instant foods, I declined the invitation.

“Dude, it’s really cool and not far from here.”

“I may have some Top Ramen somewhere in the pantry. Will that suffice?”

Turns out I was wrong on both counts. We didn’t have Top Ramen in the pantry, and the pot o noodle I was invited to visit wasn’t an instant dietary food source.

Pot o Noodle is not food, but the actual name of the giant rock near the town of Landers. In fact, it was once the largest free standing boulder in the world. That is, until sometime in the year 2000, when a huge section – oh, I’d say the size of a two-bedroom apartment – split from the main section.
It’s big, even with the piece lying next to it. The rock covers nearly 5,800 square feet and is almost seven stories high.

That ain't no can of noodles - it's just a big rock sitting there

I have no idea what Pot o Noodle stands for and the more I researched the name, the stranger the results became.

Let’s just say, Pot o Noodle, means, an extremely large piece of granite in the middle of the Mojave Desert that you cannot eat, looks nothing like noodles and wouldn’t fit in a pot anyway.

The Native Americans, who resided in the area of Joshua Tree, believed the giant rock and surrounding locale was sacred. Again, I have no solid understanding of why any particular area is considered sacred, but I feel that way about certain breweries. Not trying to be sacrilegious here; just saying to each man his own.

What is really interesting is all the – how does one politely talk about craziness in others? Oh, I know, the craziness some people adhered to what is aptly named Giant Rock.

For the record, I will never knock someone’s belief, no matter how crazy it may sound. I wrote that with a straight face.

Off Highway 247, near the city of Landers, is a humongous rock or boulder or big piece of granite just sitting on top of the desert. It’s big. A family of twelve could live on the square footage it takes up and maybe not see each other but once a week. For some families, that may be still too much togetherness – but, I digress.

The rock has been there for eons - that’s an indefinite and very long period of time. It’s also a term that can be used for exaggeration or humorous purposes.

Allow me to elucidate: Laureen and I went shopping and it took her eons to select a new purse. See, that’s used in a humorous or exaggerated way, because it only took four bloody hours, two malls and six stores, not an eon. On the other hand, I got lunch and two beers out of the bargain. Fair exchange, but I digress. Back to the rock.

Giant Rock has been there a long time and since it’s been there so long, it took on a persona of its own. Something almost mystical. Something that cannot be explained. Something that must be hiding the secrets of the universe.

In the 1930s, this big rock got the attention of Frank Critzer. He knew that tortoises and other desert life often burrowed beneath rocks and such to keep cool in the summer and warm in the winter. A great idea for burrowing critters.

So, Frank decided to follow the example of our reptilian cousins and soon Frank had dug himself a home, with the help of dynamite, beneath the largest rock on earth. He reported that his home beneath the rock never got above 80 degrees in summer, and never below 55 degrees in winter. Forget solar panels – he had found the perfect solution for comfort and relied on nothing but Mother Earth – literally.

Actually, Frank was a sort of a genius and not only built the home for himself, but set up an airport right near the rock on the dry lake bed. There would sometimes be one to two flights a week coming to visit Frank and his very unique abode.

If you miss the runway - there's about a million miles of desert to the left

It is rumored that Howard Hughes actually flew out to visit Frank’s home, invited by George van Tassel. Tassel was an auto mechanic (his actual history is a bit fuddled) who had met Frank and thought the man was interesting enough to maintain a friendship with. He would keep up that friendship until Frank died in 1942.
This is the realm where novels are created. There is mystery and intrigue about how and why Frank died on the July 25th of 1942.

Frank, not wanting to be totally out of reach with the world, had erected a tall radio antenna on top of Giant Rock. A German immigrant erecting the large antenna, living under a rock in the middle of the desert, attracted the curiosity of local law enforcement.

So, on that 25th of July, three deputies from Riverside County arrived to ask Frank certain questions. We all know the questions – it’s World War II, a guy of German heritage is lives beneath a rock in the middle of nowhere and has a large radio antennae bolted to the top of that rock.

That’s right, he must be stealing radio signals to listen to ball games for free.

As the deputies approached the hole that served as a doorway to Frank’s house, there was a terrible explosion. The three deputies received injuries, one very seriously, and unfortunately, Frank died during the explosion.

Was it an accident? That would be for the conspiracy theorists or novelists to determine at a later date.

Well, after that incident, Frank’s friend Tassel moved out there and became convinced there was something really special about the area. So special, that he believed alien life forms visited from time to time.

The largest rock on earth – why wouldn’t aliens want to visit it? The happiest place on earth, wasn’t to be built in Anaheim until 1955, so they had to have somewhere to go in the forties.

So, since that time, UFO enthusiasts routinely visit the area looking for signs of life from the heavens. Not sure that’s a great idea though – there’ve been enough Alien films (6) to know that never turns out well for the human race.

Calling all aliens, or humans who believe

But one thing, a visit to Giant Rock in Landers is a great experience. Fresh air, no crowds, and the history of this place is fascinating. Frank Critzer, was simply a man determined to find his own way in a chaotic time. Was he a hero, as some may claim? Who was George van Tassel? Those are questions only those reading their personal histories can determine.

But what isn’t in question, is Giant Rock is worth the trip. It really is. And, if I haven’t made the point, it’s really, really big. I mean, really. As in giant.