By 7:00 a.m. it was already hot and muggy. I got a weather update on my phone, warning of possible heavy rains in the Flagstaff area. Cosmo and I went out for our morning walk around 10:00 and I heard thunder in the distance. By noon, the sky turned dark with clouds and the winds kicked up. We spent the day inside, watching movies and taking naps. The temperatures dropped drastically and after two weeks of brutal heat, 67 degrees seemed downright chilly. It was magnificent.
The week continued with oppressive heat in the morning and often subsiding a little when dark clouds rolled in sometime in the late afternoon. I frequently opened my back door to let any breeze in. As with most things in van life, there is always a choice, always a compromise. Do I want the doors open so I can get a breeze, or do I want no bugs coming in the van? Do I want a remote spot with fellow campers only in the far distance, or do I want a place with smooth roads, easily accessible to everyone, and having many people nearby? Do I want to fight traffic and go into town for supplies, or am I willing to eat a bizarre concoction of leftovers and shelf-stable food? Fortunately, having the back and side doors open when the sun was blistering didn’t let too many bugs in. I think they were settled down somewhere in the bushes where there was a bit of moisture and shade.
When I got to my spot just south of Ashurst Lake, the sites closest to the main road were full. Two of the large areas that I previously occupied were already inhabited by two or three rigs in each. I continued down the side road which was rutted and full of potholes at an incredibly slow speed until I found a small spot, perfect for my van. It had morning shade and direct sun for much of the afternoon. By Sunday afternoon, the spots closer to the road cleared out and I was alone in the forest with just a young couple north of me. They were quiet, kept to themselves and often left during the day. I considered moving to one of the bigger spots closer to the road but didn’t see any point in it. I knew I’d run out of supplies by mid-week and need to make a run to get groceries. When I returned with food, I could then decide if I wanted to take a different spot. Again, choices: A bigger spot has a nice feel to it, but with the weekend coming, there is always the chance that someone(s) will decide that I should share such a grand space and pull in next to me.
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I got up early Wednesday morning and drove into Flag for food, gas, and water. I got to Walmart before it got too hot, and since that has been my go-to grocery store for the summer, I efficiently navigated the aisles and picked up what I needed. Actually, I probably got way more than I needed. Since going for groceries is my most annoying chore, each time I go, I try to stock up, so I won’t have to go again for some time. I’ve got it down to being able to go 10 days out in the middle of nowhere before I need to go for food and water. Of course, the issue is that if I fill my cart in the store, I have to try to find a place to put all of that away when I get back to the van. My fridge is slightly larger than the tiny fridge I had in my college dorm. The freezer is about the right size to hold three regular ice cube trays. I definitely can’t overdo it when buying food that needs refrigeration. And even though I remodeled my van shortly after purchasing it, removing two jump seats, and replacing them with kitchen cabinets, I often can’t fit everything I buy into my existing cupboards. I struggled to get everything tucked out of the way.
While at Walmart, I dumped all my trash, and I got gas and water on the way home. I decided that since Marshall Lake was so much closer and easier to access, and since it was the middle of the week, I’d try to find a good spot there instead of driving the extra 10 miles back to Ashurst Lake. I found a few open spots, but none were even close to level. I kept looking and when I found a spot that seemed manageable, I’d look and see abandoned gear stacked close by. There would be a pile with a grungy sleeping bag, a collapsed tent, and a campfire ring full of broken Jack Daniel’s bottles. I never know if someone is coming back to that, or if they have permanently abandoned it. I moved on. I found a place closer to Lake Mary Road (the main road running through that section of the Coconino National Forest). It was a site that had been occupied by people I met back in May and at the time it had been a gorgeous spot. I pulled in and got settled. The fire pit was full of paper plates, cigarette butts, broken bottles, and bags of garbage. It made me so mad and depressed to see how badly people treat free spots like this. I wonder what kind of people trash a National Forest. I’ve been told by several neighbors that there are lots of meth-heads living in the forest. I have come across more than one camp with some pretty rough-looking people at Marshall Lake. When I pulled in after my run to the store, it seemed clear that they are taking over. I decided to stay the night since I was already settled in and a thunderstorm was coming.
I slept poorly. There was non-stop traffic in and out during the night, mostly small cars. I’m not very street-savvy but I suspect it may have been drug related. For the second time this week, I felt an urgency to leave Marshall Lake and head up the road to Ashurst Lake Road. On the way out, I became aware of many tents, pitched under trees with no vehicles nearby. Did they hike in? Had they all driven off early in the morning? I do know that it is becoming more and more common to stake out a spot mid-week, pitch a tent to “reserve it,” and then leave until the weekend. I also know that Phoenix has one of the largest homeless populations in the country, and it has been 115 degrees most days this week I wondered how many of the tents or makeshift shelters at Marshall Lake were from a homeless migration to a livable climate.
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Back at Ashurst, I settled into the same spot I’d occupied earlier in the week. As I turned off the ignition, Cosmo picked up a ball and looked at me with his best “Oh, poor, neglected me” face. How could I not get out and play fetch with him for a half hour or so? He clearly knew where we were. Adjacent to a large, vacant campsite, we played fetch daily when we camped here last week. We were far enough from the road and any other campers that I felt very comfortable with him being off leash. I have one of those tennis ball flingers that give me a lot more distance than I could manage with my arm alone. I threw the ball as far as I could, and he raced across the plot in a full gallop, leaving a cloud of dust behind him as if a stampede of horses had just passed by. (My greyhounds had taught him well as a puppy.)
Most days this week, the heat was oppressive by 8:00 a.m. When I got up, I opened all the doors and windows in the van. There was usually at least some air movement, and when we were lucky, there was a strong breeze that kept the air circulating. Without that, it would have been unbearable. I checked the weather map, which confirmed that the entire country was in a severe heat wave. There would be no escape for us without driving hundreds of miles.
After my run into town for essentials on Wednesday, I decided that the next time I go into town, I won’t return to the forest southeast of Flag. I plan on meeting my friend Kent and his son Felix in southern Utah on August 10th. When I run out of food or water or propane, I’ll leave Flag, stock up and head north to Utah and wait for their arrival. I haven’t decided what to do after their visit. I had intended to head back to Flag before moving south for the winter, but I’m hoping I can be a little more creative. Depending on the weather, I can move back to Quartzsite/Ehrenberg/Joshua Tree by mid-September or early October.
Lessons From The Road: I had hoped Flagstaff would become my “summer home.” It is in the forest with mountains and lakes (sometimes) and compared to southern Arizona, it is 20 degrees cooler. After spending much time here since the beginning of May, I’ve decided I don’t like Flagstaff. The town is extremely unfriendly to nomads/campers/RV’s. Nearly every parking lot has a plethora of signs forbidding overnight parking. They describe in detail how to retrieve your vehicle once it’s been towed. That being said, most parking lots are quite full of vans, trucks with camper shells, pull-behind trailers and large Class A motor homes. It seems obvious that all the people living in these rigs provide an enormous boost to the summer economy of Flagstaff, and yet the city, or the individual businesses seem to despise us. It is not always without a good reason. Many of the campsites within the National Forest are totally trashed. People leave their garbage, broken bottles, and beer cans in firepits, I guess, thinking the maid will come through in the morning and clean it up. Piles of shit, topped with a wad of toilet paper can often be found just steps away from any campsite. The TP adornment at the top is a good indicator that the pile was not left by a dog or a bear. Many of the people coming and going from the designated campsites in the National Forest are driving large pick-up trucks or SUV’s, often jacked up with oversized tires. They drive up and down the roads stirring up dust and tearing up the roads that are already overused and abused. Nearly all the license plates are from Arizona, and I suspect a lot of the campers and day-use people are from nearby Flagstaff. This probably won’t be my home next summer.
I read today that eight of the hottest years on record are the last eight years. It’s a good bet that won’t be better by next summer. Because of the altitude, Flagstaff has traditionally been a cooler place to be in the summer. I had to wait until mid-May to come here because it still got down way below freezing every night. This week, the night-time lows averaged around 70. I’m going to have to choose a cooler route for next summer.