“I don’t mind Disney lying about my Prince Charming, but I am upset about the forest animals not coming in to clean my house.”
~Unknown
I moved on Sunday to a shitty campground. Actually, it may be just a campground, and it seems shitty to me because I’m used to not having anyone within what would be the equivalent of at least a city block, usually more. I was at Lake Pleasant in the Road Runner campground. It was busy and not only were we packed in like sardines, but there were cars constantly driving past on the loop I was on. I reserved a spot on the lake and when I got there, the “driveway” was at such a steep slope that the back end of my van was a foot lower than the front end. Chat GPT says that’s a 5% grade; I say that it is ridiculous that they would even consider renting out a “campsite” that was at such a steep angle. I would have needed to jack up the back 1 foot to get level. I drove back to the entry kiosk and waited in line. When it was finally my turn, I explained my predicament to the woman in the office. She was actually quite nice, and she and a cohort looked up my site and said “Oh yeah. That’s a pretty steep one.” She gave me a map of an adjacent loop that she said would be more level and highlighted the sites that would be available for the next couple days. I went back, picked out a level one that would work, then had to drive back down and wait in line again to get the reservation switched over. The whole process (I spent about half an hour at the first site to see if there was any way I could make it work) took me nearly 2 hours. I still had a VIEW of the lake but was high up and it appeared there was no way to actually get TO the lake without driving. That would entail unplugging my electricity and detaching my water hose (my site has water and electricity). I decided to just admire the lake from afar, even though I paid to be lakeside.
The wind was howling again, and I was so close to neighbors that I could hear their conversations. I made it work for the two nights I paid for, but I can’t for the life of me understand why anyone would want to “go camping” and stay at such a place. It seemed to me to be the equivalent of camping at a drive in theater, with a view of the lake. I went down to take a shower. The showers were big and clean. I pushed the button (one push gets you about 30 seconds of water from the shower head) and it was ice cold. I waited for a few seconds and it got hot. I got in and started to wash my hair. The water was near scalding. Anyone who knows me knows I like extremely hot showers, but the water here was just about at my upper limit. By the third or 4th push, the water was perfect. Unfortunately, by the 6th or 7th push of the button, it was nearly cold again.
The traffic circling the loop I was on was very annoying, but it slowed down by bedtime. I was tired and fell asleep quickly, only to be woken up by the braying (is that the right word?) of burros and Cosmo Barking. I looked out my window and 3 burros were ravaging my campsite. I opened the door and tried to shoo them away. They clearly had zero fear of humans, and it took some doing for me to get them to move on.
I stuck it out for the days I’d paid for. On Tuesday morning, I woke up and took my time getting packed up. I had only a short drive to the northeast to get to Bloody Basin Road, where I’ve camped often. Even though I stay there twice a year, I can never remember which way to turn when I get off the I-17 going north. I chose to go to the right and after a few miles I realized I’d made the wrong choice. I drove a bit farther until I could find a clearing to turn around, but when I pulled into the clearing, there was a campfire ring and a beautiful view. I decided I’d stay there.
I took my time setting up. I used to rush through this process. It was a chore. But recently, I’ve convinced myself it is a process that can be enjoyable with the right attitude. I raised one side of the van by an inch, putting blocks under the driver’s side wheels and got perfectly level. I pulled out my solar panels and got them set up. I off-loaded several totes, table and chairs. I opened the totes and started taking out solar lights and stringing them up around the site. I put up my flag that I bought in Quartzsite back in October. It’s frayed and battle worn, but it still serves as a good indicator of wind speed and direction. I hung up Frank.
Matt had dug a partial skeleton out of a pile of junk someone(s) had left on BLM land in Quartzsite. He gave him to me, and I hang him off my van’s antenna when I set up camp. He holds a tiny solar lantern at night. Matt named him Frank, and I’ve called him that ever since. He makes me smile.
On Thursday, I took my time packing up and headed north to Prescott Valley to see my friends Barbara and Lark. I arrived around noon and we got caught up and went out for Mexican food for dinner. It was pretty good. I got up early Friday morning after fasting and headed to LabCorp to have bloodwork done for my yearly doctor’s visit. I came back to Barbara and Lark’s driveway and started in on my chores. Twice a year, I use the driveway as home base while I get upgrades and repairs done on my van that would be too difficult to pull off in a desert or forest. I got a new table installed that offers adjustable height. My injured shoulder has been acting up and I think the old table, which I use as a desk for my laptop, is too high and causing issues. Instead of coming out of the floor, the new table has a bracket that hooks underneath my seating area and has a swinging arm so it can not only raise and lower, but can also swivel 360 degrees, and come much closer to me when I eat or work on my laptop. I am hoping it will allow my shoulder to heal once again.
On Saturday, I started in doing laundry. When I stay here I remove my seat cushions and wash them, and this time I also washed some winter clothes that I didn’t use this winter, but they were quite dusty from me driving in the desert. In between loads I repaired a shelf that had broken in my clothes closet. Lark drove me to Home Depot for the needed supplies, and I actually got a brace and shelves cut and hung a lot more easily than expected. I cooked lasagna for dinner and we all went to bed early.
Lessons From The Road: I need to remember that, for the most part, I don’t like campgrounds. Even the nicer ones I’ve stayed at never offer the quiet beauty I find for free on BLM land or in a National Forest. And even though they stay in an RV or van, campers are not my tribe. “The Great Outdoors” that they choose to camp in is much more densely populated than the neighborhood I grew up in. Campgrounds, more often than not, are just a rundown version of suburbia. I get sucked in because they show beautiful ocean or lake views on their websites, and I believe that I’ll be parked next to the water and be able to get in it any time I choose. But the reality is that mostly you have a view of the water, but it is on the other side of a chain link fence, or down a steep ravine. It’s rarely accessible. Campgrounds also love to divide things up into “dry side” and “Lakefront” or “Ocean Side.” I’ve stayed “Lakefront” and “Ocean Side” several times only to discover that although I paid a premium price, the water was actually on the other side of the asphalt road. Not only could I not access the waterfront, but often I was unable to even see the water from the wrong side of the road. I need to remember that few campgrounds will satisfy me, and if I feel the need to stay at one, I should not reserve a spot in advance, but should actually go to the campground, see what’s open and see if I can find a site that will suit me.
The other lesson I’m learning is to enjoy moving days. They have always caused me angst. But lately, I’ve learned to slow down. I rarely have more than an hour drive ahead of me, and there is no rush (other than self-imposed) to get to wherever I’m going. Even if I’ve got my awning set up, and all my lights strung up around my camping spot, it doesn’t ever take much more than 30 minutes to pack up and be on my way. During my two most recent moves, I slept in (7:00 is sleeping in to me) and had my coffee in bed as usual. Both times I had a second cup of coffee and made breakfast before starting to pack for the move. And both times I arrived at my new spot before noon, having not made a big deal over such a short move. Likewise, I’m spend time setting up my new spot when I arrive. I think I learned this from Matt. He loved to hang lights, put up flags, set up a tent and an awning with sides. He spent a couple of hours making his spot “home.” I don’t spend nearly that long, but I’ve found that as the sun sets and my solar lights come on around the site, it makes me glad I did the extra work. It is time well spent. And all the solar lights let anyone who is pulling in at night see that this spot is taken and they mostly drive on. (It is very disconcerting to me to be sound asleep and get woken up by high beams shining through my bedroom window as someone pulls into my spot and maneuvers to turn around or worse, stops and gets out to check and see if they can fit in with me.)
That’s all I got
Love you like a dog.
See you down the road,