Slab City: A Wasteland for Today

The Last Free Place On earth

Not everyone is waiting for collapse to come right up on them as a surprise in the night. There are a few places where people have already begun to embrace the beginnings of a life free of complex society, and Slab City is one of them. It’s far from luxurious, but an eccentric group of people call this desert community home.

Built upon what little is left of an old military base in the middle of the California Desert, Slab City doesn’t have much in the way of modern amenities. In fact, to the best of my knowledge, they have almost no “amenities” at all. No power lines to bring in electricity from the grid and no pipes hauling in fresh water to the town. Those who live there have to sort out their own methods for dealing with sewage or trash. And what of laws, codes, and regulations? Who needs ‘em?

For those who call it home, Slab City gives them something much more important than comfort, or even security: it gives them freedom.

How it all Began

“The Slabs” as the area is called, was born when the U.S. Military abandoned Camp Dunlop, a military base of sorts near the town of Niland by the Salton Sea. They tore down all the buildings in the 1950s but left behind the concrete foundation slabs, because hey, why clean it all up, right? Though California officially got back its control over the land, it was too isolated and inhospitable for the government to really care about it much.

But some time later employees from an industrial company working nearby found the slabs, and they came up with the idea that it would make a great spot to build a little semi-permanent camp close to where they were working. Before you knew it, their campers and trailers began to form the beginnings of what would later become Slab City.

As the years and decades passed, people from outside the area were drawn to the improvised settlement. To this day, the residents remain a motley collection of the poor, the disenfranchised, snowbirds fleeing the cold north, and all sorts of other people looking for a way to live off the grid and away from the strictures of society and overbearing laws. This isolated desert community is populated by transient, freedom-seeking people, all living off the grid in trailers, tents, lean-tos, and broken-down vehicles in a remote patch of the California desert, near the shores of the Salton Sea. 

Life in the Slabs

You can come here to forget and to be forgotten. The Slabs has long been a destination for nomadic-minded, free-living people from around the nation. There are no property taxes to pay or utility bills to deal with, which makes it ideal for people trying to live life outside of the traditional “work-for-wages” system.

Today, the remote community has taken on some elements of a bona fide city. The streets have been given names, there’s a little library, a few locations that sell food and drinks, a fantastic little skatepark, and several places that are available to rent on Airbnb. There is even an internet café with Wi-Fi and coffee available (sometimes). Art is also an integral part of life in Slab City. One of the most popular attractions, located at the entrance to the Slabs is Salvation Mountain, a massive collection of stones covered in hundreds of thousands of gallons of colorful paint and decorated with all sorts of religious messages and symbols. It’s the life’s work of one of The Slab’s most famous residents, Leonard Knight, which brings in dozens of tourists a day, though most don’t venture past that spot.

Another interesting site is East Jesus, the main attraction of which is an elaborate outdoor art museum installation that’s open to the public year-round, featuring a wall of trashed televisions covered with witty messages, an old car adorned with doll heads, and many other oddities. Behind the museum is where East Jesus residents actually live, in a maze of trailers surrounding a communal living area. The place functions as an art collective where residents display their own sculptures and art installations. Most of them are made from salvaged and repurposed materials, demonstrating the residents’ zeal for self-sustainability. This kind of unique art from people forced out on the fringes of society is part of Slab City’s unique appeal.

During the cooler months Slab City’s population swells to over 4,000 as people – called “snowbirds” – come down from as far away as Canada to take advantage of the warm temperatures and free living. Some residents find solace in the simple life. Others have banded together to provide some escape from the monotony. The town has its own community and event center named “The Range”, which has regular music and karaoke nights and even hosts a yearly dance. There are bars in town too, like my personal favorite, “The Redrum Room” run by a very interesting character named Pirate Rob. And he is a pirate. Seriously.

The Camps

Slab City has over a dozen separate neighborhoods, or “camps” inside the town. Each camp is made up of a small group of people with their own individual rules and culture. People tend to gravitate to others with similar lifestyles and beliefs, and nowhere is that more true than in Slab City.

Some of the camps are quite extensive and well-known, such as the California Ponderosa, led by a man with the “earned” nickname Spyder. Spyder is one of the permanent local homesteaders in the camp, a true “slabber.” The central area of the Ponderosa is a makeshift kitchen-bar-outdoor living room, made out of repurposed wood, salvaged sheet metal, pallets, tarps, and a whole bunch of other assorted materials. Even with the lack of city services, the Ponderosa camp is quite comfortable. Spyder already has solar power, pigs, chickens, septic, RV space for seasonal residents and delivery of potable water. I believe his plan includes a much-expanded lounge area, a hydroponic crop system, and better septic.

Often, during the Slabs’ busy season, Spyder has a dozen people living in his camp, plus his own family. He charges each person a small fee in exchange for daily breakfasts and dinners. The Ponderosa even has its own outhouse and a shower facility. You could rent the “Honeymoon Suite” at the Ponderosa on AirBnB for a very reasonable price, and I highly recommend it if you plan to take a visit. Several of the camps in the Slabs operate under a similar premise, meaning visitors and snowbirds pay a monthly fee for some amenities, if they choose. Another popular one is Mojo’s Slab Camp, which has similar extensive offerings, mostly for those who bring their own RV or trailer.

Rabbitside is a very interesting camp in the Slabs. This spot is a very clever little homestead, with an experimental crop garden, chicken coop, water-purifying ponds and cockroach ranch (Good protein for the Wasteland). All of this is, housed in a shaded labyrinth of trailers and canopies serviced by a misting system that keeps the heat down a bit in the summer.

It is this kind of clever jury-rigging of salvage and scrap that makes the Slabs such a contradiction within a world running on the constant consumption and throwing away of goods. And, unfortunately, a world of throwaway people. Here we have a bunch of self-described stoners and hippies surrounded by the junk of “modern” society, which they have transformed into scavenged building materials. They have reshaped themselves and a tiny piece of the world, transforming a hostile wasteland landscape into a village.

Personality dynamics are something to contend with out there as well as Slab City encompasses a wide spectrum of humanity in one small desert plot, including addicts, former convicts, and people who would otherwise be homeless, but there are also others who just want to live their lives on their own terms and have no desire to be a part of the society that doesn’t want them. Look, the Slabs has plenty of drunks and tweakers who struggle to stay alive every day, but there is also a lot of creativity and ingenuity in this make-shift desert town.

“You will never find a more wretched hive of scum and villainy…”

Mos Eisley it ain’t, but Slab City is often reported as being a hub for shady persons and illegal activity, most notably the smuggling of drugs and stolen goods, in addition to violence running rampant. But, from my own experience visiting, as well as that of life in general, I have to say that this reputation is overblown and probably comes mostly from the type of people who end up with PTSD after witnessing someone shoplifting Skittles at their local grocery store.

So, is it safe? Depends on your definition of what “safe” should mean. If you believe that safety comes from an instantly available police presence that will protect you from your own lack of situational awareness or general disrespectful and entitled nature, then no, it is not safe. However, if you think you have the ability to keep from being a douchebag and are capable of watching your own valuables while not putting yourself in dumb situations, yes, the Slabs are quite safe.

I should point out that there is indeed a law enforcement presence in Slab City. Nearby Imperial County sheriffs from Niland and other emergency services will come when called and there is a military presence on the adjoining gunnery and bombing range, with caravans of troops often passing through on their way to and from a bomb damage assessment or whatever. There was also a recent series of arrests by U.S. Marshals who were looking for wanted fugitives. Even with the availability of law enforcement, most people will tell you that the locals aren’t very likely to call the cops for anything but the most dire of circumstances. People mostly take care of their own business out there, and stay out of the business of others, which is exactly how a community should function.

Slab City may be something like an old west frontier town, but it’s not a Hollywood version where they have shoot-outs at high noon every day. It isn’t lawless, but nor is it quite legal. There are some bits and pieces of private land here and there, but most Slab City residents squat illegally on public California land. Although if it is truly “public” then…

The code of ethics that most residents live by is to be tolerant, understanding, and sharing, but to mind your own life and stay out of how others mind theirs. However, many residents and drifter-type visitors are cash-poor, so there are drug issues, petty crime, and the occasional fistfight. For this reason, most residents have dogs and keep their camps secure. Again, just sensible living in the Wasteland.

I felt safe visiting Slab City. Welcomed, even. It is truly an all-inclusive type of community, and they recognize that everyone is equally a human being, regardless of whether they are a convicted felon or a retired military officer. Race, gender, politics, all unimportant and non-divisive. Who knows how life will play out, but in certain situations I could easily see myself carving out my own spot in the sand should the need arise.

Living the Wasteland Life

Transitioning to residency in Slab City is an informal process. You simply show up, find a patch of land that no one else has claimed, and set up a tent, shack, yurt, or motorhome. Just be sure to take some time to meet people and let them also get to know you. They can tell you where the truly unoccupied spots are, and perhaps help you find a way into one of the more established camps. Just remember, this is their town, and while it is not completely lawless, they will do with this place as they see fit. There is no rent, no property taxes, and no utilities payments. There are also no utilities, period.

So, living in the Slabs requires a good amount of self-reliance.

The nearest services, including potable water, are in Niland a few miles away. Almost all of what you are going to need will have to be brought with you. But it is no different than any other sort of off-grid, live-off-the-land style situation. Something you are probably familiar with already if you have been thinking about preparing for the collapse of society. Most residents in Slab City rely on their own expertise and capabilities to handle things.

Living in Slab City requires adhering to a certain code of behavior. While drug use is common, residents say that it’s usually confined to well-known areas of the camp, and that is not really a problem anyway. The most common type of crime is theft. For the most part, there aren’t really reports of vigilante violence in response to crime, but the community will deal with people who are involved in such misbehavior, and they probably won’t talk about it much.

Altogether, Slab City is as close to a self-governing commune as you’re likely to find in the U.S. And pretty close to the idea of what a post-collapse wasteland refugee settlement might start out as.

Without a lot of income, Slabbers tend to use more of a bartering system. Slab City doesn’t necessarily run on money. It’s not a place to really buy or sell things. Trading is how you get things done. So, factor that in.

Summers in Slab City are harsh. It’s 120 degrees consistently in the summer, and the summer is long. As the climate changes, heat is going to become more and more of an issue, as is water scarcity. Being able to survive the summer out here requires massive preparation and resources. Some people rig up misting systems and swamp coolers, but then they end up spending a ton of money each month on gas for their generators. And again, we are thinking wasteland here, there won’t be money and the easy availability of gas. Also, there are not as many residents in the summer, the “snowbirds” are all gone, so you won’t have very many people to turn to for help. While there can be about 4,000 people living in Slab City during the winter, there may only be a hundred or so during the summer months as people leave for less extreme climates.

Great! Should I go there now?

All in all, I highly recommend a little excursion to the Slabs, and perhaps even a bit of a stay. It may not be quite the wasteland settlement we will be seeing post-collapse, but it is a pretty good start and an excellent exercise in braving the frontier to get a taste of what just might be in our future at some point. Call it a vacation from society, or a practice run for the end of the world.

And, if you do go, look around for a while. Take it all in – the people, the atmosphere, and the calm – and realize that this is what has been done with the almost minimum amount of resources available for use. The entire place is almost entirely created from salvage, and very little goes to waste. The people there exist outside of the system that we are so beholden to for our own daily survival, and so fearful of losing, and yet they manage to survive quite well. Just think how it could be if it was properly planned and supplied from the start.

And then you just might be able to visualize what a real Wasteland town could be like.