[MUSIC PLAYING] Don't let the name fool you. Slab City is not
actually a city. That's kind of the point. This unincorporated
California community, located in the desert about 190
miles Southeast of Los Angeles, appeals to people
who want to live on the fringes of
traditional society. But what is life
actually like when you're hanging out in the
blazing heat with no power or running water, miles away
from any signs of civilization? Today, we're going to
explore the daily realities of living in Slab City. But before we get started, be
sure to subscribe to the Weird History Channel and leave us
a comment letting us know what other unusual cities you
would like to hear about next. Just in case it
wasn't already clear, life is not easy in Slab City. That's because the area upon
which the makeshift community exists wasn't designed as
a place for people to live. It's built on the remains of a
World War II era Marine Corps training camp, Camp Dunlap,
which was shut down in 1961. The name Slab City refers
to the concrete slabs that remained on the site
after the base was disbanded. Comfy. Geographically
speaking, the community is located within a sedimentary
basin known as the Salton Trough, most famous for the
shallow, landlocked, highly salinated body of water
known as the Salton Sea. However, thanks to some
resourceful residents, there are a few amenities
to be found in the area. One tent features a wireless
router and serves as a de facto internet café giving locals
limited access to the outside world. There's also a pirate Slab
City radio station, a church, and a library
featuring a selection of, not just books, but DVDs,
magazines, and video games. A drained swimming pool serves
as a makeshift skate park, and there's even a PO box
that can receive packages from UPS, FedEx, and Amazon. There's no post office though. The federal mail system still
doesn't recognize Slab City formally. These projects not only
provide important services for the locals, but
can also help stave off boredom, which is a pretty
big problem when you live off the grid in the
middle of the desert. They don't exactly
have a football team. While some people
clearly move to The Slab for a peace and quiet,
there's really not much to do and
nowhere really to go. Once you've read all those
magazines in the library, better just start over
again from the beginning and just pretend to be surprised
by People's Sexiest Man Alive issue. The closest recognizably
civilized town is Niland, California,
which is walkable in a pinch but significantly less
sweaty if you have a ride. The town has two stores,
SoCo and [? Mize, ?] providing access to
basic fundamentals, like gas, cigarettes,
beer, and snacks. But if you can press
on another 35 miles or so to the larger
town of El Centro, they've got a
Walmart and a Costco, where you can bulk
buy tons of items to keep you sustained
in The Slab. Plus, they have
those $1.50 hot dogs. These kinds of supplies
are vital for Slabbers because The Trough is not
a friendly environment in which to grow your own food. A few Slabbers have managed to
raise chickens on their plot, providing fresh access to eggs. But most fresh produce
has to be brought in. With a near complete
lack of infrastructure and social services,
making a life here requires some
amount of sacrifice and a lot of determination
and planning. First and foremost,
Slab City seems to appeal to unconventional
types, Mavericks, who feel penned
in by the demands and expectations of
daily life in a big city and want to live life on
their own terms, which is understandable. How many have thought
about moving off the grid after getting that
millionth AOL disk in the mail? Some also come to
Slab City to lay low. As photographer
Donovan Wylie who has worked on projects
on The Slab once said, there are clearly people there
who don't want to be found. Despite their different
reasons for being there, the Slabbers have formed
a genuine community. An open stage
venue in the middle of the city known as The Range
provides a performance space. And any local artist or band
is welcome to get on up there and showcase their work. The Range is also the site of
Slab City's annual prom party, marking the end of
the winter season before the weather heats up and
drives most of the residents out to other areas. And that's not just a cute name. Locals apparently do
take the opportunity to dress up and treat
it like a real prom, although, presumably with
less tearful breakups and trips to raid your
parents' liquor cabinet. That said, experienced
Slabbers do recommend that new arrivals
plan to live entirely self sufficiently at first
and to give the community time to gradually accept you. It's not all makeshift
libraries and DIY proms though. The Slab has become a
destination for hard partying. It's a popular place
to go and do drugs and has become a haven for
drug and alcohol abuse. Anyway, I guess it
really is like the prom. This has led to some tension
between long-term residents who prefer The Slab as a
low cost and libertarian option versus newer arrivals,
who see it as a place to get wild and unhinged. Still, visitors and
former residents generally describe Slabbers as
friendly and inviting and proud of the little
self-sustained community. [MUSIC PLAYING] Living on The Slab
is also a good way to cut down on your
personal spending. Slab City isn't
formally incorporated as a town in the
state of California. So setting up a little makeshift
home for yourself there can save money on both
rent and property taxes, provided you're willing to
live in the sandblasted ruins of an old military installation. Many Slabbers live entirely
on government assistance or fixed incomes. One resident claimed to survive
on food stamps and $5 to $6 per month. So it makes sense that they
moved out of Los Angeles. You can spend that on
parking in about 45 minutes. This has made life on
The Slab particularly appealing to so-called
snowbirds, senior citizens who move there during
the winter months to escape cold weather
in their regular homes. Apparently, they got
tired of Florida. These retirees often park their
RVs on the same plots year after year and then arrange to
swap their spots with locals who are remaining on site
during the summer, sort of like musical chairs. In general, the money
you bring to Slab City is the money you'll
be living off of for the duration of
your stay because there isn't much in the way of
steady employment in the area. A lot of locals avoid
using currency at all and instead operate
on the barter system. [VIDEO PLAYBACK] - Wait a minute. Where are we supposed to haggle? - No, no, I've got to get-- - What you mean, no, no, no? - I haven't got time. - Give it back then. [END PLAYBACK] However, because The Slab does
attract a reasonable amount of tourists, there's
still some cash money to be made from
selling souvenirs and artwork to visitors. A few particularly hardy
and bold individuals will apparently also
collect shell casings from the nearby firing range
to sell as scrap metal. And when you live in the
middle of the desert, pretty much everywhere outside
of your RV is a firing range. Still, most Slabbers trade
work or specialized skills in exchange for resources. Even just having your own
mode of transportation can be helpful for moving around
goods, water, and neighbors, though some residents
have even more helpful, specialized
training, including experience and training
as doctors, lawyers, and veterinarians. Doctors and lawyers feel like a
pretty big necessity out there. [MUSIC PLAYING] People with
construction backgrounds are particularly sought
after on The Slab because residents are truly
fending for themselves when it comes to shelter. Average temperatures
hit over 100 degrees during peak summer
months, which is enough to remind you
why living on the grid was invented in the first place. But while the
extreme temperatures do cause Slab City
to empty out a bit, many residents stick
around, presumably to sun bleach their hair. Surviving those
long, hot summers requires more than just
a little bit of shade. Some locals obtain generators
to power misting systems and swamp coolers when things
get particularly unbearable. But the constant
need to purchase fuel makes this a costly solution. Those generators
do not run on sand. The heat isn't the only climate
concern during the summer. Winds can reach
60 miles an hour, and windstorms can last up to
several days, which can really wreak havoc on a
tent-based lifestyle. Sanitation is another key
environmental concern. With no public services, like
trash removal and nothing even approaching a working
sewage treatment system, everyone is truly
on their own when it comes to cleaning up
after themselves, which is another way of
saying that garbage can begin to pile up quickly. Several visitors noted on
Reddit their disappointment upon arriving at Slab
City and recognizing that it's functionally a
sandy pile of trash covered in wrappings from prepackaged
foods like chips and cup of noodles. One visitor compared
it to a massive RV park during the off season,
which was probably not meant in a friendly way. Clean water is another constant
headache in desert life. As resources go, drinking
water takes top priority, but potable water
for washing up also needs to be brought in to
The Slab from the outside. This is because groundwater
in the Salton Trough is full of salt and other
contaminants, which you may have guessed from its name. It's not really helpful
for keeping clean, though residents will sometimes
enjoy a bracing cold shower anyway just to cool off. There are local irrigation
canals in the area, but locals are advised to
avoid them due to dangerous and potentially fatal currents. [MUSIC PLAYING] Obviously, safety
is a concern when you're living in a makeshift
desert community with no cops or traffic lights. But most Slabbers have described
Slab City as relatively safe, even compared to more
civilized neighborhoods that really do have cops on patrol. One former resident
told LA Weekly that he considers
Slab City safer than Los Angeles's
infamous MacArthur Park, which is understandable. The MacArthur Park
community is still reeling from the time an unknown
assailant left the cake out in the rain. But that isn't to say there's
no law at all in Slab City. It's located within
Imperial County, California. And while the community has
no dedicated police force, officers from neighboring
towns pass through the area frequently, and
county dispatchers take calls and send out units
for disturbances and crime in the area. It's also not uncommon to
see border patrol officers in the area as Slab
City is just 50 miles from the US-Mexico border. But in general, Slabbers
prefer to handle things for themselves,
justice-wise, and they live by some basic,
unspoken rules for conduct. As you might guess,
these largely revolve around respecting
other people's privacy and possessions and minding
your own ding dang business. Some communities within The Slab
even take things a step further and grant longtime
residents ownership over a specific plot
of land that they can occupy with their campers. This means other Slabbers,
particularly newer arrivals, aren't allowed in
that area at all. Other residents will
actually kick them out if they're seen there, like
the neighborhood bouncers. In terms of consequences
for upsetting the peace or violating the rules,
a frequent punishment is to have your
personal belongings and campsite set aflame. It's a bit extreme, but
so is life in Slab City. If you don't like it, you can
always pack up and head back to Los Angeles. Just don't be expected to
be invited to the prom. So what do you think? Would you ever want
to live in Slab City? Let us in the comments below,
and while you're at it, check out some of these other
videos from Our Weird History.
