So this happened: I left Joshua Tree to go to Quartzsite for a night or two. Marcos left with me (or maybe it was vice versa?) and Tim and Jennie headed up to Big Bear. Bridget was left with Heather and Rich. When I got to Quartzsite, Bridget texted me to tell me she had run into “the cowboy with the red, knee-high boots” in Walmart in Indio. While all of us were staying in Quartzsite a few weeks ago, we were fascinated by a guy with a ZZ Top beard, sporting a pair of red, knee-high, cowboy boots. He had a cowboy hat and a vest and instead of a horse, he had a Harley. But his look was much more cowboy than biker. Anyway, we all took notice that he also had a pair of black, knee-high boots, and with the long beard, cowboy hat and vest, he was quite the character. He had a class C rig, with two tall flag poles, each with two flags on them. Anyway, it was quite a hoot that Bridget had a sighting at a Walmart that was 125 miles away from where we first saw him.
But it gets even stranger… Later that afternoon, who should pull in across from my spot in Quartzsite? If you guessed Bridget, you’d be wrong.
Small world, huh?
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Monday, I drove into Quartzsite proper and picked up my package. My former dog sitters had sent me a gift. It turned out to be a plaster footprint of Phoebe that they had done years ago when I went to Machu Pichu and Phoebe, Santos and Sparky stayed with them. Then I headed east toward Phoenix to stay at a little place called El Dorado Hot Springs. It’s pretty much indescribable, but reminded me of a cross between Gilligan’s Island and the Rubber Rose Ranch (from Even Cowgirls Get the Blues) with a sort of hippy kind of vibe thrown in for good measure. The owner, a rotund man with one prominent front tooth (the rest having moved on from this world, apparently) was friendly and seemed to be happy and carefree. There were private soaking areas for $15 an hour, or you could use the communal hot springs with your overnight stay. In the communal area, there were a couple of big claw-foot tubs, a small, round pool, and a cement rectangular hot tub. The entire area was surrounded by old, stockade fencing, and overgrown with bougainvillea, and some palm trees. The palm trees were a nice break from the cacti I’ve been surrounded by for months. It feels like it has some life to it. The “ranch” itself is home to many chickens, guinea fowl, a couple peacocks, two donkeys and (I’ve heard, but not seen) a pig. The guests that I met included a skinny Polish cowboy who now lives in Phoenix, several young hippie couples and a very sexy, long-bearded man in a kilt. The couple who checked me in for the night were what I’d call “Country hippies.” They were very friendly and accommodating. I parked my van in a spot in a corner of the area nearest the hot springs, close to the mineral bath area, but still secluded and surrounded by bamboo. There was an area in the back that had a dirt road with lots of RV spaces and a big pond which Cosmo enjoyed playing in. The entire place had such an idyllic feeling about it. Everyone was very friendly, although not nearly as outgoing as my recent skoolie adventure. My take is that most guests are trying to strike a balance between being friendly and respecting each other’s privacy, especially in the hot mineral bath area where everyone is naked.
I soaked in the communal hot springs three different times the first day. One of the few things I miss about my old life is having access to the soaking tub in my massage room which I used almost daily. I made up for lost time and soaked in the hot springs often, and decided to stay over another night. In the late afternoon I heard bagpipes, and it didn’t take much of a detective to guess correctly that it was the man in the kilt. I walked Cosmo and found him standing outside his truck, playing beautiful, haunting music. When he finished one song, he introduced himself, and we chatted a bit. He was quite friendly. I ran into him several more times before I left and we exchanged information. He’s a big fan of finding hot springs to visit, is interested in Intentional Living Communities, and is probably heading along a similar path (literally—exploring Southern Arizona) as I am. I hope I see him down the road again.
The morning before I left, I had terrible anxiety. I couldn’t pin it on any one thing, but I worked on my bookkeeping the previous afternoon and having to deal with money issues always brings me down a bit. I’m not sure how to categorize my expenses, and since I have quite a bit of extra income from selling my building last year, I worry about owing the IRS. As I set off toward Ajo, AZ, I couldn’t shake the uncomfortable feeling. Also, I only had a vague idea of where I was heading for the night. Sometimes when I’ve spent time with other humans, I get fearful of where I’m heading next. My itinerary for the next couple of months is pretty vague. I have some AZ friends I want to see, but no real timeframe except I know I don’t want to be in the mountains when it is cold or there is a possibility of snow.
When I got on the road, I stopped at the nearest gas station so I’d have one less thing to worry about. While pumping gas, a Hispanic man came out of the mini-mart and gave the finger, with both hands, as he muttered something I couldn’t understand. There were lots of other vehicles pumping gas, so I figured he was mad at someone. As I got into my van, he came up to me and said “Weren’t you just at exit 17 near Quartzsite?” I told him I’d just left the hot springs where I’d been for a couple of days. He looked at me skeptically, but backed off. I’m guessing he had some sort of traffic misunderstanding and was going to finish the confrontation here at the gas station. It felt ugly and just added to my sense of feeling apprehensive, unsettled and unsafe. I left and headed toward the BLM land I’d found on a boondocking app. It was only half an hour away. I wanted to drive farther, but the next place I could find was almost 2 hours away. I didn’t want to drive that far. I didn’t feel like driving at all, and this near confrontation with a disgruntled driver made me feel even less like being on the road. I got to the coordinates I’d found on the app, and there was a pavilion piled high with bags of trash. There was a bulletin board with many various signs pertaining to off-road vehicles and hunters. It didn’t fill me with excitement. And there was just a tiny, one-sentence warning: No overnight private camping. I wondered what exactly was meant by “private camping?” I decided to go in and see if I could find other boondockers. I came to a fork in the road and went to the right. I crossed a cattle grate and an open fence, but noticed a numbered keypad on the adjacent post. The gate could be locked, and unlocked (I guessed) by the keypad. I didn’t go far down the road thinking that even if I could find a nice spot, I wouldn’t feel safe knowing someone could close the gate and lock us in. I turned around and took the other offshoot at the fork. It wasn’t long before I saw vans, pull-behinds and larger rigs off to my left. Then I saw the sign that said Bureau of Land Management property…14 day limit. I knew it was OK to park here. I turned down another dirt road where there were fewer campers, and when I came to the end, there was a turn around. I saw a tiny teardrop camper there and a woman was outside. She waved and smiled the biggest smile I’d seen in a long time. As I turned around, she came toward the van and I rolled down my window. She asked if I was staying here. I told her I was looking for a spot and didn’t want to crowd her. She said “please, make yourself at home. You are more than welcome here. I’ll be leaving in the morning.” I took her up on the offer, and parked “across the street” from her. Her name was Susan and she said her dog was friendly and did I mind if he was off leash. I told her it was no problem and I let Cosmo out to run with him. We (Susan and I) had a very nice chat about where we’d been, where we were going, and how we’d never go back to “the old world” we’d left last year.
My anxiety faded. I was in a beautiful spot. It was free. I had a nice neighbor. Cosmo ran around and played ball in the desert. I was once again home and felt safe and calm again.
A bit later, a class C rig started down our road. They stopped before reaching our site at the end of the road. Susan asked “Do you mind if they stay here?” I said “Certainly not.” They parked down the road and walked up to see if there was a site past where we were staying. They offered to turn around and go find another site, but Susan told them they were welcome to stay with us. They seemed quite pleased and pulled past us, just beyond the loop where you could turn around. They were from Canada. The man worked most of the afternoon, but the woman (Sylvie) came out and asked if she could take pictures of me and Cosmo playing ball. She was not only a good photographer, but a delight to chat with.
Can you tell he was raised with Greyhounds?
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I slept so well last night. The combination of some exercise, running with Cosmo, getting lots of sun during the day, and eating healthy meals all day did me a world of good. It cooled down considerably after sunset and I settled in and watched a movie on Netflix. We were both tired out and went to bed early.
I got up early in the morning, just before sunrise, and made coffee, and went back to bed and skimmed the NY Times headlines. I realize more and more each day that most of the headlines, even in a paper as reputable as I think the NY Times is, are irrelevant to me at best, and just clickbait at worst. Headlines asking if Trump will ever face justice (No. Of course not.) Others about will congress do the right thing and regulate how they buy and sell stocks based on insider information. (Congress? Do the right thing? Oh Puh-lease!) I don’t read any of those articles anymore. It allows me to get to the puzzle section much quicker.
Shortly after sunrise, I saw all my neighbors outside having coffee. The couple from Canada greeted me with a cheerful “Good Morning!” and Susan, from North Carolina was packing up to move. She was heading to Phoenix to spend some time with her sister. Meanwhile, her dog, Finley, chased Cosmo as Cosmo chased the ball I threw as far into the desert as possible. The sun was warm, in spite of the wind kicking up again. I got a second cup of coffee and then dug out my workout bands. I bought them back in October when I visited Long Beach. I vowed to start using them daily to try to keep in shape. So far, I’ve not done too well, but I enjoyed it this morning, and started to figure out an exercise routine/schedule. I’m hoping to get on track and tone up a bit. Cosmo and I do walk a lot during the day so that helps.
In the afternoon, I worked a bit more on bookkeeping. I’m going to get some advice on how to organize before handing it over to my accountant. It’s not worrying me so much anymore. It is what it is, and not much I can do about what happened last year.
In the afternoon, I read, and then Cosmo and I played ball again and took a walk—OFF LEASH! Cosmo is getting really good at walking with me. When he is on a leash, he pulls. Off leash, he stays close. Of course we only practice out in the boonies where there are no cars, and if he runs to chase a rabbit, I could see him for miles. He always comes back when I call. In the evening, Silvie and Alain and I gathered wood and took it to the firepit near where Susan had camped. We got our chairs and a drink and talked around the campfire for an hour or so. Alain left first. English is their second language. Silvie is quite fluent. Alain is good, but I got the feeling that having worked all day and now trying to converse in a different language was tiring him out. We were all about to go to bed anyway. Silvie and I talked for a little while longer and then she went to bed. The fire was nearly all embers by now, and I opted to stay out just a bit longer to enjoy the stars on such a beautiful, clear night. It didn’t take long for me to get that feeling—whatever the opposite of anxiety is—that I’m safe, in a beautiful spot, connected to all that is. For whatever reason, I thought of Desiderata for the first time in many years. I stayed out by the fire for another 15 minutes with Cosmo and when I went inside, I had to look that up. It’s beautiful. If you have never read it, do yourself a favor and read it now. If you haven’t read it in a while, I’ll bet you’ll enjoy reading it again.
https://www.desiderata.com/desiderata.html
Alain and Sylvie left the next morning. I was only going to stay here one night, but I was loving the quiet, the sunshine, the warmth and so I decided to stay one more night, hopefully alone. (It’s Friday, so we could have some weekenders join us tonight. Either way, it’s a very nice spot.) I exercised again in the morning and in between sets, I threw the ball and Cosmo ran and brought it back. I spent the afternoon reading with Cosmo snoring gently across my lap.
In the evening, a stray dog—a pug—came up to play with Cosmo. As I was trying to read his tag, I noticed someone down the road from me in a van. It only took a few seconds for me to realize he was calling for the dog, who was more interested in Cosmo than in his owner. I yelled down to him that his dog was with me. Cosmo and I headed that way as the owner headed our way. As we met, he handed me a beer and introduced himself. Josh was a heavily-tattooed, very thin, military-looking man in his mid 40’s. He talked with a southern draw and it didn’t take long for him to tell me he was here from Texas. He sort of jumped around in his monologue, letting me know he was a survivalist, had MRE’s for a month (should I get hungry and want dehydrated beef stew), was a gun enthusiast and that he had been dead twice and resuscitated. One time was by motorcycle accident. He didn’t say what the second time was, but he had a scar on his belly that looked very much like a bullet wound. He was a little wound up, but extremely polite, saying “Yes sir” or “No sir” when he answered any questions I asked of him. He sipped on his beer, but I couldn’t get the one he handed me open. I tried to twist it, but it looked like it needed a bottle opener (or maybe I have totally lost all grip strength?) I stopped trying to open it and pretended I was leaving the cap on on purpose. He never noticed. Before he went back to his van, he said he had plenty of wood and was gong to light a campfire later that evening. He said he would be glad if I joined him if I wanted to. .
As I was walking back to my van, a Class C camper came up the road toward me. Sure enough, it was Sylvie and Alain. They had gone into town, taken showers, filled their water tank, dumped their black tank, gotten groceries and done other chores and by then decided they really didn’t feel like driving anymore, so they came back to their original spot. We sat outside their rig and chatted. Allen brought me a beer.
As we talked, I saw Josh coming up the road. He stopped at my van and shouted for me (yup…he remembered my name). I yelled back from Sylvie and Alain’s “front yard” and he came over. He said it was bad luck to smoke alone and pulled out a joint. I could tell he scared Sylvie and Alain a little bit. He does come on quite strong. He lit it and took a deep hit and passed it to me. I politely took a very tiny hit. I will have a beer or a hit of a joint. I usually don’t do both at the same time. I offered it to Sylvie and Alain, who declined, and passed it back to Josh. He was going on about a rave he had attended on New Year’s Eve, and how everyone was dropping acid and there was loud disco music in the desert. He was talking loud and fast. It was hard for me to keep up with him. I wondered if Sylvie and Alain were following. After a while, I think Josh realized that we were on a very different plane than he was, and said he was going to go cook and again invited me to come join him at the campfire later. As he walked away, Sylvie and Alain looked like deer caught in headlights. I laughed. They were at a loss for words, so I said “I think he needs a lesson in how to read the room.” I asked if they knew that expression. They did not so I explained it and they laughed.
After they went inside to prepare dinner, I went and got something to eat myself. The sun set and it started to get dark, and I saw Josh sitting alone by his campfire. I went down to tell him that I had some things to do, was getting up early in the morning to drive to Ajo, but wanted to come say good-bye to him. He seemed to visibly brighten. I think he is probably a bit lonely on the road, and perhaps felt somewhat rejected by the rest of us being a little taken aback by his forwardness earlier. We talked a bit and he showed me his van that he had built out from scratch. It had an American flag hanging over the bed, and a poster of the second amendment on the wall. He showed me where he stored his dirty clothes, and said that behind them were his firearms. He gave me a list of what he had, and I didn’t get a lot of it. He pulled out his “pride and joy,” checked the chamber to see that it was empty (I can only assume that’s what he did from having watched cop movies and TV shows) and handed it to me. I took it awkwardly, being sure not to point it at anything that could be killed, and handed it back, saying “I really don’t know much about guns.” He told me “That baby is a Smith and Wesson. Cost me a thousand bucks, but was well worth it.” He said he had an AR 15 under the bed and if anyone was going to be taking pot shots at him from high on a hill, he was going to fire back. He asked how I planned to defend myself. I assured him that nobody has ever shot at me so far, and I didn’t plan on anyone shooting at me in the future. He smiled and said “You have good energy. I like you.” I took that as the highest compliment I was likely to get from anyone, especially him. I left shortly after that, but not before he shook my hand three more times and told me how glad he was that I came to visit. I was glad too.
The next morning before I left, I saw Sylvie and Alain getting ready to pull out. I got out and we said good-bye. Alain said he and Sylvie had talked about me last night and he said he thought I had “How you say it in English?” Then he moved his hands back and forth between us and said “Good Energy, no?” I beamed. Yup. I cannot think of a finer compliment. And doubly so coming from two people–Alain and Josh–who could probably not be farther apart on so many levels. I told him that I haven’t always had good energy. I told him that I thought the U.S. was very divided and that a lot of Americans hate each other for no good reason. I said my good energy came from living here, in the middle of nowhere, where everyone I meet is kind, no matter their philosophical, religious, or political views. He agreed that it is easier in this world to have good energy. Maybe not so much in “that other world we used to live in.”
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I left Buckeye BLM land and drove a couple hours to just south of Ajo, AZ to a town called Why.
We stopped at the biggest BLM land I’ve ever been on. The weather is great (80 degrees, not a cloud in the sky) and we are 3 miles from Organ Pipe Cactus National Monument, which we’ll visit tomorrow or Monday.