“Talkin’ to myself and feelin’ old
Sometimes I’d like to quit
Nothin’ ever seems to fit
Hangin’ around
Nothin’ to do but frown
Rainy days and Mondays always get me down”
~ Paul Williams
It’s been quite the week of planning, plotting and decision making. My dad instilled in me (and probably my siblings) the fine art of playing devil’s advocate. Pick any argument and take any side and I bet I can argue the opposite point of view effectively, whether I believe in it or not. “On the other hand…” seems to follow any thought I have, therefore causing decision-making to be troublesome. And that’s if I have all the facts. A huge factor in my decisions this week was the weather forecast, which here in Flagstaff can turn on a dime, at least according to The Weather Channel.
On Monday I decided I wanted to go north toward the Grand Canyon at some point before moving south for the winter. My friend Beth, who is also a RoadTrekie sent me coordinates to a spot she loved just below the south rim. An acquaintance, Rising Buffalo said he’d love to meet up if I come north. He is a ranger in Grand Canyon National Park. I pulled up a map and plugged in Beth’s coordinates. Not too far out of Flagstaff, but the big bonus was that on the same route was a campground on a lake that offered 50% discounts to seniors. A plan was starting to develop.
I went to the campground’s website (Recreation.gov – it is in a national forest) and saw that I could make reservations online. As I was perusing the different sites in search of the best one, and deciding on an itinerary that would get me away from tourists on Labor Day weekend, I saw that the campsites were being reserved out from under me as I read details about each site near the lake. The campground was booking up quickly for the coming week. I had two choices: be spontaneous or lose the option of going next week. I chose spontaneity and made a reservation for Sunday, Monday, and Tuesday nights. (At half price, I decided to splurge for three nights.)
By Tuesday, I was running out of milk for my coffee and cheese (a must-have for most of my usual meals—omelets, sandwiches, pasta dishes, etc.). I decided I could probably wait to go into town until I get ready to move north on Sunday, but did I want to go without my basics for 5 days? I decided to drive into town for food and while there, I ordered Thai curry from a place I’d eaten at before. The round trip took about two hours, and I returned to my same spot near Ashurst Lake and ate my take-out Thai. I continued planning my escape on Sunday. I’d get a shower at the campground down the road, then stop for water, propane, and gas before doing another, more serious grocery run. There is a laundromat near the grocery store, so I could put my clothes in the washer, get groceries and by the time I was done, move my clothes to the dryer. Once finished with laundry, I’d only be about half an hour or so from my lakeside campsite. I pulled up The Weather Channel as I ate and saw that rain was predicted for the following 5 days. Not good. If I stayed where I was, it would be likely that I would not be able to leave on Sunday morning to head north because the roads, when flooded are not passable. But the forecast was vague. 24% chance of light rain on Wednesday afternoon. Does that percentage tell me anything about the amount of rain? Or just the chances that it will rain at all? I decided that it may not rain, but if it does, it could rain for hours. And what exactly could I expect from “Scattered Thunderstorms” for the 4 days after that? I had to leave my perfect spot. Even light rain for any amount of time would mean dealing with the quagmire it would become. I checked the forecast in Two Guns. It was going to be substantially hotter there, with afternoon thunderstorms predicted every day. The soil there is sandier and rockier, so getting stuck was less likely. But going to Two Guns would mean adding an extra 2 hours of driving before I left Sunday morning to do all my chores for the trip north.
I packed up and got ready to leave, still not knowing where I was going. I had to at least move closer to the gravel road so I could get out Sunday. When I got to Ashurst Lake (gravel) Road, I noticed the forest “road” I was on continued on the other side. I drove across and checked it out. The dirt roads were not nearly as rutted and jagged as the side I’d been on. People were parked close together near the main road, but I drove a bit farther back, found myself a spot in a meadow, and parked.
The ground had a thin covering of grass, which was much more appealing than dirt that would turn instantly into thick mud with any amount of rain. But the bare patches showed deep cracks, indicating that there had been thick mud there that had dried and cracked. I was near the dirt road, which seemed flat and maybe sandier than where I’d come from. I set up camp. I would need to be ready to pack up and move on short notice should the rains be more than I expected or if the ground below me got soft quickly. If there was going to be rain for the next 5 days, I’d need to be vigilant to be sure to get out while I was still able.
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Although I think I made the best decision possible, given the many factors that needed to be considered, I found myself a bit sad on Wednesday. The open meadow could have given me a lot of sunshine for my solar power had there actually been any sunshine. There was very little over the next few days. The weather was dreary and damp, with intermittent drizzle. I wasn’t really enjoying the new spot. By Thursday, I’d accepted that this was a temporary spot and I’d soon be headed toward a lake. When the rain subsided somewhat, Cosmo and I explored, and I realized this was a whole other section near Ashurst Lake that I’d not known about previously. I think I’d gotten used to the forest, because being “out in the open” seemed to be not as quixotic as being buried in a forest. Still, there was nobody in sight, so I felt I had the place to myself. In reality, I think the dreariness was more of an issue than the site I’d chosen. I’m not convinced that I’d have been any happier at my favored spot in the middle of the trees. I decided to find the good in where I was and Cosmo and I went outside to explore some more and take photos.
When we returned to the van, I felt better, lighter. I made a grilled cheese sandwich and put on my hoodie. I could have just closed the windows, but somehow the hoodie seemed cozier and helped me feel I was making the best of less than optimal weather.
The rain continued intermittently throughout the week. There was one perk:
Lessons From The Road: Life on the road is dirty. Life in a forest doubly so. Someone I talked to recently said I was “glamping.” Hardly. I think of glamping as bringing all the luxuries of home into a remote setting in nature. I think I’ve brought all the necessities of home to wherever I go. One definition of glamping I read says It combines the experience of being in nature with the comforts and conveniences of a hotel. LOL. Believe me when I tell you that if you checked into a hotel that looked like the inside of my van, you would be asking for a refund immediately. That being said, I have grown accustomed to, and am grateful for every convenience I have, and for the ability to live in so many different and beautiful spots. I do however, get tired of being dirty.
I think the real issue with me is the accumulated dirt. When I visit my friends Barbara and Lark in Prescott Valley, AZ twice a year, I take the opportunity to do a deep clean of the van. I spend nearly a week, emptying out every cupboard and drawer and cleaning everything in them. I wash seat covers, and blankets, and scrub my floors and wipe down my cabinets. I empty my fridge and clean it until it looks new. It’s been 4 months since I last did such a thorough cleaning. It’s just not possible to do that in the middle of a forest. And as much as I dread doing it, I cannot wait to be able to do it again.