“I want to be a human being rather than a human doing.”
~Kent Schoch
I woke up Sunday morning in a dirt parking lot behind a Mexican Restaurant. (Haven’t done that since college days, LOL) I know that sounds like a horrible sentence, but I awoke feeling exhilarated and happy. Cows were mooing. Roosters were crowing. They had been since about 4:00 a.m. and the cockle doodle doos seemed to have been woven into my early morning dreams.
I woke up with the sun just barely above the horizon. I was in the outskirts of Kingman, AZ. For the first time in a week, I felt cool air blowing across me from the open windows and was glad to be heading east towards mountains and forests.
I drove about an hour and a half and arrived at Arizona Land Trust just west of Seligman, AZ. Campendium gave me coordinates for a spot with good reviews, but the most recent review of the same listing advised not to go south of I-40 as the coordinates indicate, but instead to head north for a couple of miles to an even better spot. I did that. The road started out bad and got worse. There were deep ruts, huge rocks, and major potholes. I drove about 3 M.P.H and even then, the van rocked violently as one tire hit a rock and an opposite tire fell into a pothole. Fortunately, I didn’t scrape bottom, but I’m sure I did my suspension system no favors. The road was too narrow to turn around, so I continued until I found a spot that might have sufficed for a night or two. It was soft dirt that would easily turn into a mud pit if it rained. I tried to check the weather forecast but had no cell service. I had a bad feeling and headed back toward the original coordinates, south of I-40. It took me about another half hour to get to the service road, and my GPS informed me that I had 9 miles to go and it would take 37 minutes more. The road was almost as bad as the northern extension, and I definitely did not want to drive on that for 37 minutes. Fortunately, I soon found a pullout and when I went to turn around, discovered a very nice meadow.
I stopped, got set up and reveled in how nice a spot it was. I got some lunch and settled in. My internet was very slow, but it was functional. Within an hour, it was gone. I don’t know why this sometimes happens. One minute I have 2 bars, the next just a symbol showing “no signal.” I thought perhaps it would come back. It didn’t. I tried to call a friend later and it would not go through. So the next morning I walked around with my cell phone in hand using an app called “speed test.” I tested different spots for cell service. I went from zero signal (not even able to use the app because it wouldn’t connect) to “Your internet is FAST” just a little over 50 feet from where I was parked. I liked this area and wasn’t ready to move to my next location an hour to the east, so I decided to pack up and move. Since I was “settled in” that meant I had put out my plants, my solar suitcase panels, my solar lights, and a table and chair. I could either carry them over to the new spot one by one or put them in the van and drive them over. As my dad used to say “Six of one, half dozen of the other.” I used the hybrid solution, putting my plants and lights in the van, and carrying over my table, chair, and solar panels. All that was left was to move the van, and although it was only a few feet, there was a drainage ditch between where I was and where I wanted to be. I walked around figuring out a path where I could fit between trees and bushes and where I wouldn’t have to risk driving over big rocks or getting stuck in a ditch. I drove to the new spot in under a minute, but it took me about 20 minutes to get level and to get my portable solar panels set up facing the morning sun. I let out a sigh of relief and then laughed that this would be the most difficult thing I had to do all week. Getting set up so that I’m level, have a cell signal and facing the right direction to use my external panels that connect via the driver’s side of my van can take a bit of doing sometimes. Then I unpack my table and chairs so as to clear out space in the van and have a space to be outside. I take my plants outside (I have two cacti and recently bought basil and rosemary plants). These are small things, but they must be done. If you think I’m complaining, I’m not. I’m bragging. My life is so simple that this half hour today will probably be the toughest part of my week. I have plenty of food, a full gas tank, full propane, full water tank. I now have a very fast cell signal, can make phone calls, send text messages, and even watch Netflix. I went from being Fred Flintstone one day to George Jetson the next. Life is good.
### ### ###
The week was so beautiful. The weather was mid-70’s every day and just below 50⁰ at night. The days are getting noticeably longer and moving east in the Pacific Time Zone means the sun comes up before 6:00 each morning. I have kept my routine of making coffee and having my first cup in bed, with Cosmo lying across my legs, reading NY Times Headlines (me, not Cosmo), and listening to podcasts. This week, feeling quite settled and remote, I started exercising again each morning before breakfast. I’m starting in slowly with light rubber band exercises. I want to stick to the routine, not burn out or injure myself before I get back in the exercise groove again. We have taken some long walks. The area is beautiful. I’ve only seen one human so far—a man with a dog in a small off-road vehicle. The dog barked at Cosmo and me; the man never looked over. Perhaps he was too focused on the terrible road he was navigating. We have had many 4-legged visitors. One night there were cows. Cosmo suddenly sat up and sniffed the air, and I looked out the windows until I saw movement in the distance. There were cows partially behind trees.
One afternoon as Cosmo napped, I happened to look out and the van was surrounded by goats. It was crazy. They walked past and when I stuck my head out the door to photograph them, they got in a huddle. There was a dog with them who barked at me until I went back inside, and then he herded the goats away in a cloud of dust.
We’ve seen dozens of hares. I call them Jackalopes because they appear to be about the size of a German Shepherd! Several times I’ve seen movement between bushes that I think could be a coyote. When I look, there is a huge rabbit. Their ears appear to be about a foot long. So far, none have had horns, but I’m not giving up just yet. One morning I woke up to horses grazing outside my “bedroom” window.
And of course, there is my favorite animal of all time..
Hawks fly overhead, completing the sense of me being the only human alive on the planet.
But off in the distance is a constant parade of big rigs along I-40. If I focus, I can hear the drone of tires as they pass by, but mostly, it is just silent here.
Lessons From The Road: This is a lesson I learned before, but it’s worth remembering. Sometimes it is OK to just be. Having had three different businesses in my life, I have always felt like there were so many things to do that I’d never catch up. Sometimes my “to do” list would be longer at the end of the day than when the day started, despite my not taking a break. It took some time for me to learn that it is not always necessary to do. It’s OK (and often way better than OK) to just BE. Kent, you will be happy to know that this week I spent much more time as a human being and very little time as a human doing.
I have been in a state of bliss all week long. My friend Ginny calls it “being in Peru” because when I was in Peru and drank “the medicine” my shaman provided, I was able to see clearly my connection to Mother Earth, Father Sky and to the entire Universe. I had a sense of connection. I knew how I fit in and was overwhelmed at being a part of it all. When I stay out in the boonies with no human distractions, I can easily conjure up that feeling again. Where I am staying this week, that awareness comes without even trying. I had planned on moving forward to Flagstaff by the end of this week, but I’m so content here, Flagstaff is not going anywhere, and I’ve got all summer to be in Flag, so I saw no reason to cut short my stay here in such a peaceful place.