“The joy of life comes from our encounters with new experiences, and hence there is no greater joy than to have an endlessly changing horizon, for each day to have a new and different sun.” ~Christopher McCandless
Into The Wild
Kitty left to go home on Sunday morning. I spent some time re-organizing and cleaning up the van. I have a tendency when I get settled somewhere to not put things away. I leave stuff out that I’m likely to use later that day or the next, and with only 80 square feet, things get out of control rather quickly. So it’s sort of important to put stuff in its proper place every once in a while, when I’m staying in the same spot for a bit.
I made a fire Sunday night. I sat outside for about an hour, listening to Joni Mitchell and watching the fire. Cosmo kept me company, watching everything going on around us (which was very little).
Monday morning, I drove into Coachella to return a “solar suitcase” (foldable solar panels) which I’d bought from Amazon and sent to Kitty’s address. It was a great foldable solar panel, but unfortunately it didn’t work. I never did figure out if I got sent a faulty unit, or if it was just not compatible with my system. Many chats and phone calls to Amazon and their affiliates (all who speak some version of Chinese/English or have an Indian accent so thick I couldn’t understand them) were totally worthless. So I drove to a UPS hub and returned it. I ordered another one from a different company that seems likely to be compatible with my 24-volt system, and assuming it arrives in working order, should solve my wintertime solar blues. I shipped it to Tom and Roy in Palm Springs and I should be able to supplement my power supply once I pick it up from them when I go to Palm Springs on Thanksgiving. The panels are portable and can be moved throughout the day to face directly into the sun. My panels on the roof of the van face up. In the summer there is no issue; once the sun gets low in the sky and the days get shorter, I often don’t fully top off my lithium batteries during the day. This portable panel should remedy that.
When we returned to the BLM land off Cottonwood Springs Road, our spot had been taken by a van I recognized as having been across from us the previous night. I suppose they had their eye on my spot and moved into it as soon as I moved out. So we drove down the road a bit farther and found a huge spot away from other rigs. I made lunch, and Cosmo and I played ball in the huge clearing we occupied. The sunset was spectacular, as always.
The weather has been perfect most days, with highs in the upper 70’s and lows overnight in the upper 40’s. I open up the doors and windows to take advantage of the breeze during the day and close everything up at night. The temperature has been perfect for sleeping.
By Wednesday, the skies clouded up and the temperature dropped. In the early afternoon, it began to rain, so I decided to do a total reorganization of two of my cupboards and my pantry. Because items get stuffed in and too often are pushed to the back, I found I had 4 packages of tortillas (two of which were barely recognizable as food), and two partial packages of marshmallows. There were various protein bars and granola bars scattered around on different shelves. I also tackled my cosmetic cabinet, finding several nearly empty tubes of toothpaste, three sticks of deodorant, a few nearly empty boxes of Band-Aids, and various first aid supplies. I consolidated everything as best I could and threw out anything that looked too old to be useable. I spent the better part of two hours, but in the end, my pantry and my cosmetic cabinets were once again neat and navigable. I made myself a cup of coffee and sat inside and enjoyed the music the rain makes when it hits my roof, solar panels, and my metallic spare tire cover. Each produces a different “pinging” sound, and when it rains hard, is sounds like someone playing a kalimba. It was quite mesmerizing.
People came and went all week, but I remained alone in my huge space to the south side of the BLM land. Cosmo and I walked each morning after I did my exercise routine, and often sat outside, sometimes reading, or listening to music, sometimes just sitting and taking it all in. On one of our walks, I saw that our favorite spot—the one that had been taken when I went into town—was once again open. We hopped in the van and I drove down and snagged it. It’s farther off the road, making it much more private, and allowing Cosmo to be off-leash without worrying about cars or people nearby.
When I got settled into my favorite spot, I realized I was running low on propane. I immediately regretted not topping it off when I went into town to return the solar panels. I called the nearest gas station that has propane—5 miles up the road—and asked if they could fill an onboard tank. Last year when I was there, they had some sort of pump malfunction and said they would be down for months. The girl on the phone said “Um. I’m not sure.” She was content with that answer; I was not. I asked her to find an adult who COULD be sure. She put me on hold and came back and said “Yes, they can fill an onboard tank.” I had planned on holding out as long as I could, fearing that if I left my favorite spot again, someone would take it immediately. Being a weekend with more campers arriving, the possibility was greater. I decided to get up early on Saturday morning and drive up to get my propane filled, thinking that nobody arrives early on Saturday morning, and that the gas station may not be quite as busy early as it would be later in the day. I got to the gas station/convenience store/Foster Freeze. Being the only gas station within miles, It’s a tourist trap. I pulled up next to the propane tank and went inside to ask for someone to come out and fill it. The line was long, and when I finally got to the one cashier working there, she made a face and said, “We don’t have anyone here who can pump propane right now.” I asked when they would have someone, and she said “After 3:00?” I went out and decided that since I had half a tank of gas, I may as well get some while I’m there. The Pay-at-the-pump declined my payment no matter what credit card I tried. It said, “Please Pay Inside.” That, of course, to get you to go into the store in the hopes you will buy overpriced items you didn’t know you needed. (and prices were ridiculously high, including the gas prices which were as high as I’ve seen in months.) The line had 30 people in it, so I just left. I wouldn’t have felt good paying for such bad service.
The nearest propane is 45 minutes away, almost to Palm Springs. I will just wait and when I get too low, will just pack up and move toward Palm Springs where I’m spending Thanksgiving with friends. The good news is that we got my favorite spot again…no one had moved into it in the 40 minutes it took us to not get propane or g
Lessons From The Road: My internal clock has re-set, not so much to California Standard Time, but to sunrise and sunset. I get up most mornings at 6:30, just in time to see the sun peek over the mountains to the southeast and go to bed whenever I’m tired (usually around 10:00). I sleep soundly with temperatures in the low 50’s to upper 40’s.
My life on the road becomes more and more routine with each passing month. Early on, I worried about where I’d stop next for gas, where I would be able to find propane and fresh water, or where I’d stop to sleep that night. The more I settle into nice spots for longer periods of time, the less I worry about anything. I’m running low on propane and electricity. With the sun being so low in the sky, and the days being so short with several cloudy days, my solar batteries don’t fully charge on any given day. I’m using more electricity than I produce, and yet, I know once I pick up my new solar suitcase over Thanksgiving, that should remedy the problem. Propane is available. It’s not always close when I’m in some remote part of the desert, but if I get desperate, I can drive and find some. Until then, I spend the time I used to fill with worrisome thoughts on more productive projects. This morning after our walk, I decided to treat myself to a restaurant-style breakfast: I made a fried egg with hash browns (made from Peruvian purple and red potatoes and some jalapeño), a plant-based sausage patty, and a slice of Killer Dave’s Multi-Grain bread toasted to perfection in my tiny little oven. It was a feast worthy of Moosewood restaurant.