All Neighbors in Palm Springs, CA
Top Neighbors: The magic behind the mirrors
You will never have to pay to be listed as a top neighbor. Period. That important detail clarified, let's discuss how we arrive at two "top neighbors" for a given region:
Localism is a bustling collection of hyper-local communities, and the top neighbors should reflect those members who are most active. When ranking users in a given region, several factors are considered. To get your foot in the proverbial door, you need to have posted at least one "Localism" article or photo for the region.
The very best way to quickly rise to #1 is to post high-quality local content. Keeping a steady strem of incoming posts and photos will massively tilt the scales in your favor.
What doesn't count toward the top neighbor ranking? ActiveRain points and community sponsorships. The top neighbor spots will always go to the most active members in a region. We want to create a level playing field that encourages the growth of communities — talent and dedication are required to win the day.
Once past the reservation's tollgate—$8 per adult—the curving macadam bisects a pristine wilderness and you can choose which canyon you wish to explore that day—Palm, Andreas or Murray. We choose the former and head toward the glinting cars parked at the Trading Post and main trailhead. On the way there, we get a preview of what's ahead as we pass through the amazing rock formation guarding the canyon entrance.
The canyon immediately delivers. From the moment you descend the hilltop into the lush valley, you’re in a heady world of serene beauty, the San Jacintos thrusting up dramatically from the canyon floor.
As we are drawn into the green world, we pass through a picnic area and replicas of Cahuilla huts. The streambed, now flush with storm water, has become a wild thing coursing through the palms. One tall beauty in the middle has succumbed to the force, its shallow roots now pathetically upended. I wonder if it will survive.
We head deeper into the canyon and find ourselves off the trail, slipping on palm fronds and scaling granite boulders, looking for the errant path. It taunts us from the other side of the roiling water and it takes a while to figure out the original crossing point. We contemplate the situation, then Kirk and I gamely jettison our pants and shoes. Ignominiously clad in my white skivvies, I feel my way across the icy-cold water. Marianne laughs at us when she sees that the water isn't as deep as we surmised. She is able to ford the stream with rolled-up pants. Good thing since she isn’t wearing any panties!
Here’s a shot of me recrossing the stream at hike’s end, this time doing the same and with an audience to boot.
We walk barefoot along the sandy trail for a while, channeling our inner Indian, before replacing our footwear. Kirk chivalrously assists Marianne with hers.
The trail becomes a jungle-like tangle of palms, vines, cottonwoods and desert plants before eventually rising from the canyon floor to greet us with expansive vistas of rugged open terrain punctuated by brittlebush, cholla and barrel cacti, and ringed by the white-capped San Jacintos. Truly breathtaking.
Far off to the north, we glimpse a sliver of Palm Springs and the windmill farm, capped by formidable Mount Gorgornio.
We crest the mountain and enviously watch a group of horseback riders descend down into Palm Canyon before retracing our steps back to the trailhead. Now early afternoon, the trail is full of families and the sublime sense of solitude is replaced by the chatter of voices. 
Kirk, Marianne and I take one final look at the magnificent scenery and reluctantly depart, vowing to return again soon to essay another hiking adventure.
