“Got no mansion, got no yacht
Still I’m happy with what I’ve got
I’ve got the sun in the morning and the moon at night
Sunshine gives me a lovely day
Moonlight gives me the Milky Way”
~Irving Berlin
Cosmo and I got up early on Sunday morning. After our walk we emptied trash, and I got a final real shower before packing up and hitting the road. First stop was Basha’s grocery store to get some fresh fruits and veggies and a couple frozen meals, and then we headed south along I-17 toward Bloody Basin Road. (I know it sounds horrible, but our spot is actually quite nice.) I-17 is a horrible road. We ran into lots of construction from Flagstaff to Camp Verde. There were several miles-long stretches where the freeway turned into one lane…actually less than one lane since the barriers were in the lane we were driving in, forcing me to drive with two wheels on the road, and two wheels on the shoulder (where it existed). Even where they weren’t doing roadwork, the road had lots of dips as if the asphalt had settled in spots. The speed limit was 75, and I tried to keep over 60, but going into a dip at 60 mph with a 4-ton vehicle, I nearly took flight on several occasions. I pulled off at exit 259 and took Bloody Basin road (dirt and gravel). Things didn’t seem familiar. I was there last year, but soon I realized I went west and last year I’d stayed to the east of I-17. Not to worry. I drove up the hill for about two miles. As I neared the end of the dirt road, I found a very large spot off to my left. I pulled in and got level.
It was hot—probably just over 90⁰–but there was a breeze that made it tolerable. By sunset (and it was a gorgeous one) the temperature dropped, and the evening was clear and pleasant.
The clear night and tiny sliver of a moon which set quite early allowed the Milky Way to be clearly visible once more. I sure will miss that site when we head into winter, and it stays below the horizon.
It was a very sedate week. I was down in a valley, with hills and mountains surrounding me. I could see the occasional vehicle pass by on the road up on the ridge, but for the most part Cosmo and I were totally secluded. It was a good week to re-gather my thoughts. Last week, even though I saw few people, I was in a community. I DID see and talk to people every day. I ran into people walking their dogs, or the staff doing their chores. This week, I didn’t see one soul. Each morning after breakfast, Cosmo picked one of his many tennis balls that he’s found at various campsites, and sat patiently by the door, staring a hole in my brain. I get the “ball flinger” and we headed outside. Our space was huge, and being down in a valley, there were no cars or people to worry about as he ran far and wide to retrieve the ball that I had just flung. Being rattlesnake season, I did worry a bit, but Cosmo always stays in the clearing and the snakes tend to lie in wait in the adjacent bushes. I’ve been told they aren’t aggressive and would rather go the other way unless you corner them or step on one. I’m believing that is the case.
I started exercising again. I’ve managed to do some aerobic drills each morning before breakfast and have started adding in strength training using my exercise bands. If I can manage to get in a routine, I’m good to go. Once I get 30 days under my belt, I am an endorphin junkie and I don’t miss. It’s that first 30 days of forcing myself to do exercise when I’d rather sit inside, drink coffee, eat sweets and play on YouTube.
Saturday was moving day. I certainly enjoyed my stay in Bloody Basin. I saw no other humans the entire week, aside from an occasional car passing by up on the ridge and most of them had dark tinted windows preventing me from seeing who was inside. I did have a couple of furry visitors though.
You can be sure that I shake my shoes out before putting them on and watch where I’m stepping after I put them on.
I woke up early and after coffee and a walk, I started packing up. I washed dishes and stowed away my coffee pot and pots and pans. I emptied my grey water next to a cactus that looked like it could be thirsty, and brought in my plants and solar lights. I was heading to Prescott Valley, AZ to spend a week in Barbara and Lark’s driveway. The morning was overcast and a chance of intermittent showers was predicted. I stopped on the way for a few groceries so I could make dinner for all of us in a real kitchen. I got propane and headed to my new home.
Lessons From The Road: I discovered this week that I like to be naked outside. I’m as far from an exhibitionist as one can get. Being raised with Catholic guilt and body shame, I’m usually far beyond shy, Even when I was younger and had a better body, I was hesitant to be without clothes in the presence of anyone. But out here, where I am, there is NO ONE. No one to look. No one to judge. When I woke up my first morning here, Cosmo needed to go out to pee, and without thinking, we both just stepped out of the van buck naked. (Well, Cosmo DID have on a collar and a scarf, so I guess he was as clothed as he always is.) I stretched and took in the sun rising over the hill, feeling its slight warmth on my skin in the cool morning air. Cosmo was off-leash, and slowly wandered in the large opening. We both peed and came back inside and it was only then that I realized I had not pulled on gym shorts. I smiled. It felt so good. There was a hint of naughtiness about it, and a hint of anarchy, like “Look, I’m running with scissors.”
After sunset, any time I left the van, I wore only slip-on crocs. Passing cars were rare during the day, and even more so as night crept in. Even if one passed, the chances of them looking over the ridge and seeing me was minimal. And being outside in the buff, playing ball with my dog felt so natural, so primal.
A couple times this week I indulged in an outdoor shower. My shower is on the driver’s side of the van, and the van was parked with the driver’s side facing away from the road, so even if a stray car did pass up on the ridge, I wasn’t likely to cause them to drive off the road. I got out of the van with a towel draped over my shoulders and flip-flops on my feet and headed to the shower side. This was my view:
I hung up the towel and turned the shower on and let the hot water soak my hair and skin. I turned the water off, and shampooed my hair, and soaped up my body. Usually this is quick and perfunctory, but this week when I showered, I let it be the luxury that it was meant to be. I rinsed under the powerful stream (I’ve got a really good, water-saving, showerhead that has excellent pressure.) When I turned the water off, I shook like a wet dog, and flung my hair back over my shoulders. I stood in the bright sunshine wearing nothing but a smile.