Dos Palmas Preserve

The Desert Oasis That Knows How to Bounce Back

Some places make you work to find them. Dos Palmas Preserve is one of them, tucked away near the Salton Sea at the end of a few sandy dirt roads.

I have visited Dos Palmas several times with my community science collaborative. I was there in 2023 and 2024, just a few days after a fire had swept through, and I came back again in February 2026 to see how the preserve was recovering. The short version: the desert had quietly gotten on with the business of healing.

A little history

Dos Palmas has been a watering hole for a very, very long time. Fed by artesian springs bubbling up at the foot of the Orocopia Mountains, this oasis was a stop for Native Americans crossing the Colorado Desert for centuries. In the 1860s it became a stage stop on the Bradshaw Trail, watering gold seekers headed east for the Arizona mining boomtowns.

Then humans rerouted the plumbing. When the unlined Coachella Canal was built in the 1940s, it leaked like a sieve, and all that extra water pushed the palm population from a few hundred trees to several thousand. Today Dos Palmas is a Bureau of Land Management preserve, with lush pools, swaying fan palms, and a wetland habitat that is increasingly rare as the Salton Sea continues its slow decline.

We didn’t start the fire (or did we?)

On that 2024 visit, the burn was still fresh. You could smell the smoke, and the ground was scorched. One of our group had brought along her young son, who spent a good chunk of the hike cheerfully singing “We Didn’t Start the Fire.” I still smile thinking about it. Some soundtracks just write themselves.

As it happens, the fire did have a deliberate origin. The 2024 burn, officially the Palmas Fire, began as a BLM prescribed burn, set on purpose to clear out dead vegetation and restore habitat for two endangered species that live here. It jumped beyond its intended boundary and grew to around 75 acres before crews brought it back under control. Prescribed fire is a normal tool in a place like this, and as it turns out, the palms are built to handle it. 

Why the palms shrug off fire

By my recent visit in 2026, the recovery was unmistakable. New growth was filling in across the burn scar, and the fan palms looked almost unbothered (bar the scorched trunks).

That is not luck. California fan palms (Washingtonia filifera) are built for fire. The shaggy “skirt” of old fronds takes the heat so the living tree does not have to, and a fast-moving fire scorches the skirt and moves on while the trunk survives.

Fire even helps these oases. It clears out competing brush, and the main casualties are young palms that have not toughened up yet. Out here, the occasional burn is often better for a palm oasis than no fire at all, which is why prescribed fires are part of how the preserve is maintained.

Meet the pupfish

The ponds scattered through the preserve are home to the desert pupfish (Cyprinodon macularius), a tiny, tough little survivor that has been federally endangered since 1986 and remains so today. These fish are basically living fossils, relics from the Pleistocene, and they are the only native fish species left in the Salton Sea region.

They earn the toughness, too. Desert pupfish can tolerate water that is saltier than the ocean, low in oxygen, and swings through wild temperatures, conditions that would kill the invasive fish that crowd them out everywhere else. Their decline comes down to lost habitat, groundwater pumping, and non-native species muscling in. The preserve’s wetland management, including those prescribed burns, is part of an active effort to keep this fish hanging on. 

A good place to slow down

Because Dos Palmas is so far off the beaten path, it is wonderfully quiet. No crowds just wind in the fronds and birdsong. Bring binoculars. The wetlands draw herons, egrets, ducks, and if you are lucky and patient, the elusive Yuma Ridgway’s rail skulking through the cattails. This is a place to wander slowly and let the desert come to you.

A word on those dirt roads

The preserve is only reachable by a few sandy dirt roads, and I cannot stress this enough: do not bring your low-riding Mustang out here. The sand is deep and unforgiving, and a car that sits low will get stuck. We may or may not have spent part of our most recent visit helping a woman dig her car out of exactly this situation. No further comment. You do not need anything fancy or four-wheel drive to get here, just a vehicle that does not scrape the ground. Anything with normal clearance will do fine.

When you arrive, park at the gate. There is a parking area there, and from the gate you walk in to the preserve on foot. 

The Quick Trail Guide

Where: Dos Palmas Preserve, near the Salton Sea’s north shore, Riverside County, California

Managed by: Bureau of Land Management (Palm Springs–South Coast Field Office)

Distance: About 4.5 miles (7.2 km) from the gate, with the first and last 0.8 miles (1.3 km) on dirt road

Getting there: Sandy dirt roads. No four-wheel drive needed, just skip the low-clearance car so you don’t bottom out in the sand

Parking: Park at the gate, then walk in to the preserve on foot

Difficulty: Easy to moderate, mostly flat

Restrooms: Pit toilets at the gate and inside the preserve

Bring: Binoculars, plenty of water, sun protection, and patience for slow desert moments

Best for: Birdwatching, quiet wandering, and watching a desert oasis heal

Wildlife to watch for: Desert pupfish (endangered), Yuma Ridgway’s rail, herons, egrets, and migrating ducks

Heads up: This is a sensitive habitat. Stay on established routes, pack out everything, and leave the pupfish ponds undisturbed