“If you have not foraged for your food, you have not yet fully lived on this earth”
-John Slattery
On Tuesday, I did my “Moving-to-the-next-spot” chores. I drove into town and got propane at Tractor Supply. They are always so friendly and efficient there. Then I drove to Walmart and picked up food for the coming week. When I pulled out of the parking lot, my fridge was once again packed to the gills and my cupboards were full. I stopped for gas and then headed back to Barbara and Lark’s driveway. I played on my computer while Lark and Barbara napped (and if I’m honest, I dozed off more than once.)
We celebrated my last night there by Lark taking us all out to an Asian restaurant where I once again got sushi (AAC roll—Avocado, Asparagus and Cucumber and a delightful baked sweet potato roll). It was not only delicious, but it was also fun for us all to sit down, have someone wait on us and laugh a lot. When we returned home, Barbara and I played one final game of Scrabble while Lark read. We were all quite beat and went to bed early.
In the morning, I packed up my solar panels, brought in my newly transplanted cacti and locked everything down to get ready to go. I said goodbye to Lark as she left for her writing group and then Cosmo and I went in to say goodbye to Barbara. It was bittersweet. I think they had as much fun as I did going thrift shopping, taking the dogs to the park and playing Scrabble at night. I was sad to leave as they were such good hostesses, but at the same time, I was looking forward to moving back into the wild. They were my transition from my summer along I-40 and my winters mostly along I-10. My next stop was south of Mayer, AZ on Bloody Basin Road. I know it sounds horrible, but I stayed here twice before and so enjoyed the quiet isolation.
When I got off the I-17 onto Bloody Basin Road, I have to turn either east or west. I can never remember which has more camping areas and although I thought it was incorrect, my GPS told me to turn left. I did, and it was in fact the wrong choice. I drove a mile down an extremely rutted road, with deep ditches on either side, preventing me from turning around until I found a turn off. I went back the other way and once I crossed I-17 underpass again, I started to recognize things. There were a few other rigs on either side, and some open spots, but I kept going, hoping the spot where I stayed last year would be open. It was, and I pulled in and quickly set up camp. The wind was blowing, which was a blessing because it was hot, and the breeze kept it bearable. We went for a short walk around our new back yard, and then I came in and ate my leftover sushi rolls from the previous night. Almost simultaneously, Cosmo and I took a deep breath and exhaled. I laughed out loud. We both do that after driving to a new spot and getting settled in, though rarely in unison. The van was clean and organized and we’d started heading south for the winter, even though it is still 100⁰ south of us. Just the promise of connecting with old friends and meeting new ones in the coming months is an exciting prospect.
Our spot is partway down in a valley, with the ridges rising up over the top of the van in all directions.
Very few vehicles drove by, but when they did, we could see them on the road above us. Most of the time the drivers waved as they passed by. That is a sure sign that we’ve left the empire, and are once again on home turf, with anyone who passes by being “one of us.”
The next day I fell down a YouTube rabbit hole about foraging in the southwest for wild food and medicine. Looking out my back window I could see dozens of prickly pear cacti, most with large maroon fruits. I quickly researched how to pick them (I did so last year, and the prickles stuck in my fingers irritated me for days) and what to do with them once I got them. I headed outside with two tablespoons that I used as a makeshift set of tongs and picked a bunch without getting stuck.
I washed them with my new outdoor shower head (works great, conserves water, and I can’t wait to use it on ME as soon as the wind dies down). I put them in my Vitamix and liquified them. I ran them through a sieve twice to remove all the pulp, seeds and spines, and then promptly made myself a Prickly Pear Margarita, which went perfectly with my peanut butter pretzel snacks. (Too bad THOSE don’t grow on trees, huh?) With Cosmo draped across my lap, and a slight tequila buzz, I sat with the sun on my bare back and took in the beauty which would be my new backyard for a week or so. I vowed to tune into this level of contentment much more often.
Maybe it was the shot of tequila in my margarita, or perhaps it was the deafening silence that surrounded us, or the deep blackness of the night sky once the half-moon set, but I fell into a deep sleep that night. I was awakened at 4:15 when Cosmo joined in the song the coyotes were singing in the distance. I’ve often regretted teaching him to howl when he hears the coyotes, but last night, in spite of my peaceful sleep being interrupted, I smiled and howled with him. I looked out the window and up at the sky and saw that Orion had once again reappeared, indicating that winter will soon be upon us. I rolled over and fell back into a deep sleep, knowing that Orion and my coyote neighbors were watching out for us out here in the wild. I didn’t wake up until almost 7:00 a.m.
I made coffee and scrolled through e-mails and vaguely checked news headlines. I sat up in bed and looked out at the rolling hills, the variety of bushes and cacti, and the beauty of the morning sun causing everything to cast long shadows. I got up and went outside to exercise. I’ve vowed to lose the excess pounds I gained last winter and failed to do anything about during the summer months. I played my “morning songs” playlist and sang (that’s a stretch) along as Cosmo sat in the shade of the van and watched for lizards. The combination of warm sunshine, my favorite music, vast, deserted land and caffeine did their jobs and I felt more energized and at peace than I’ve felt in a while. It was nice.
*** *** ***
There came a wrench in the works late Friday night. The sound of tires on gravel seeped into my dreams and Cosmo barked. It was midnight, and someone had pulled into my campsite. I woke up, knowing I had to be alert this far out in the boonies to a nocturnal visitor. He pointed his car away from me and shone his high beams against the canyon wall. I watched for a few minutes to see him dragging lots and lots of stuff out of the back of his minivan. I could hear the clinking of tent poles as he got set up. I went back to sleep but was awakened by more noise. I looked at the clock. It was 1:30 and he had set up a sort of tent city, with a large tent for sleeping in, an “EZ up” tent to be used during the day (and probably for cooking) and I couldn’t quite make out what else by the light of the half-moon. When I woke up in the morning, he had set up a sleeping tent, the EZ up canopy with several tables, multiple coolers, a Coleman stove and a shower tent (most often used for privacy when needing to use the bathroom). He was between me and the road, but was way too close given the size of the clearing. I was a bit pissed, and immediately tried to get my territoriality in check. He was spread out. Two of my pet peeves are people who pull into a campsite after 10:00 p.m. and people who park too close. He’d violated both of those commandments. Then he added a third violation: He played an AM country station while cooking breakfast in the EZ up. He was (to me) WAY overdressed, in long pants and a Lands End windbreaker and baseball cap with some logo on it. He had on hiking boots that appeared to be high end, like LL Bean. I went outside in my gym shorts and flip flops. I was, after all, nearly 70 degrees outside. Three tents, 4 totes, several tables and a chair—he had everything except social awareness. I suspect he is here for the weekend, and with rain predicted for Monday, I am hoping he will go back home, wherever that may be.
Luckily my main door was facing away from him, and there was much more empty space in the direction not facing his set up, so I mostly ignored him and went about my routine. I’m quite pleased to announce that I’ve started my workout routine again after leaving the comfort of Barbara and Lark’s driveway, and with working out, always comes a better diet. Being fully stocked up on food, I am eating salads and fresh fruits and vegetables. I have a protein shake after my morning workout routine. It feels good.
Lessons From The Road: I so enjoyed my recent visit to Prescott Valley and getting to stay with some friends. I loved catching up and going out to dinner and enjoying many kinds of food that I don’t often get to taste on the road. Their many kindnesses in driving me to get things that I needed for minor van repairs, and to go shopping were greatly appreciated. And I’m still reaping the rewards of a clean, well-organized, smooth-running van. I didn’t realize it until I got to my current location how much I missed the dark skies, the vast expanses of open land, and nobody in sight for miles around (except my weekend intruder). I am so content here. Nothing needs to be done. There is no schedule, no timetable. There is nothing to scratch off my “to-do list” today. It is a contentment and a freedom I don’t think many of us get to experience.