Ehrenberg, AZ

I left Joshua Tree BLM and moved to Ehrenberg, AZ, also BLM (or maybe AZ land trust?  I’m not sure, but both are free places to stay). I decided to get all my chores done before I got to my camping spot.  I filled up my fresh water at JTNP, and dumped my grey water and trash within in the park (they have dumpsters, fresh water and dump stations). I left and headed east stopping on the way at a Dollar Tree. If I’m going to eat snacks, I’m not going to pay outrageous prices for them at the grocery store. I picked up crackers, cookies, popcorn and off-brand drinks. I also got some duct tape and some cloth medical tape which I used to fasten down my fairy lights around the outside of the van. (I had taped them up temporarily with red electrical tape, which stood out like a sore thumb on the white van trim. The white cloth tape looks much better.)  Then I stopped at Albertson’s and picked up the rest of my groceries—dog food, fresh fruits and veggies, and some plant-based “turkey strips.” I stopped and got gas and propane as well, so I was fully stocked up with everything I needed for a few weeks allowing me to settle in for as long as I like.

When I arrived on the BLM land, I sort of remembered it from last year. SkooliePalooza was held there but I believe I took a different turn once I got on BLM land. Not much seemed familiar. I saw a group of vans up on a hill, so I went that direction. The vans and small pull-behinds were spaced out giving everyone plenty of room and privacy.  I pulled into an empty spot at the far end, being sure not to crowd anyone. My nearest neighbor was in a 1990 Roadtrek, very similar to mine.  In the afternoon, I walked down and introduced myself. Her name is Bonnie, and she was close to my age (I think.  I’m not a very good judge of age anymore since I still think I’m 39.) We chatted and she pointed to all the other vans in the area and told me the names of people living in them. All are solo travelers and apparently they all stayed there for the winter. I got the impression that most of them know each other from pass years. 

In the following days, Cosmo and I went for long walks in the morning. The first morning I met Jeff, an aging hippie with Willie Nelson braids and living in a short (4 windows—skoolie people give the size of their busses by telling how many windows are on each side) skoolie.  He invited me in. He had done a very good job of making a home out of it with reclaimed wood. We chatted for a bit. He had lived on several communes in the ‘60’s and ‘70’s. He was a character, and a kindred spirit. On the way back to the van, I saw another woman outside her van. I waved and she waved back and went inside.  I really thought when Bonnie told me who was living in each rig that they were sort of a community (and perhaps they are) but they are mostly older folks, and they mostly spend their time inside. Etiquette prevents me from going up and knocking on doors and introducing myself. When you live in a van, anyone at your door is only a foot or two from where you eat, sleep, poop and (if you are fortunate enough) have sex. To come up that close to a van is a serious breech of privacy and it’s just not done. The exception is if the door is open. Then you can go up, stand back about 10 feet and yell “Hello?”  If the occupant wants company, he or she will come to the door and either come out and talk, or invite you in.  So it’s hard to tell if the people in my “neighborhood” are friendly, outgoing or private.  I walked a couple mornings and never saw any other people.  The BLM land is HUGE. Acres and acres. I decided to stay for the week, and possibly move to Quartzsite for a few days before heading to Palm Springs for Thanksgiving. 

There was a full moon last night as well as a total lunar eclipse. I went out just before sundown and everything was beautiful in that golden hour. The sun on the mountains was breathtaking; the clouds at sunset were ablaze with rich, warm colors. As the sun set, the moon rose opposite it. I took lots and lots of photos.

The more photos I took the more beautiful the sky became and I finally realized that no amount of photo talent could do justice to the views I was experiencing. Part of the beauty was just being there and having a 360 degree view of everything going on at once. So I stopped photographing and just stood in awe of where I was.  I repeated my happy mantra:  I LIVE HERE! wtih

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The next morning Cosmo and I went on a two-mile walk, around the “neighborhood” and up on the ridge overlooking other neighborhoods. It was slightly windy, and perhaps too early for people to be out. We didn’t see anyone. Jeff’s bus was gone. Maybe he went into town for supplies, or maybe he moved on.  Bonnie’s van door was open, but she wasn’t outside, so we didn’t bother her.  I came back and decided I wanted a big breakfast. I went all out and made pretend sausage with eggs, waffles and a cappuccino.  (Hey, just because I live in a van doesn’t mean I’m a total heathen). Breakfast was delicious, and as I ate, I looked out the window at the expanse of desert, spattered with vans here and there, and the big, billowy white clouds hovering over the mountains in the distance.   The ground there was rocks; big rocks, little rocks and everything in between. There were lots of white quartz. I had to be careful when walking because it was easy to stub my toes on some of the bigger, embedded rocks. It wasn’t the “Lawrence of Arabia” type desert with sweeping dunes. There were a few cacti, and some small bushes. At first glance it seemed quite desolate, but that barrenness was offset by the ubiquitous, magnificent sky, changing endlessly throughout the day.                  

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It got cold at night. Well, at least it felt cold to me. I think it only got down to mid-forties. I was cold when I got out of bed in the morning, so I flipped the heater to “on.”  Nothing.  I turned it off and on several times and fiddled with the thermostat setting. Still nothing.  I took it apart to see if I could find a reset button or anything obviously wrong. No such luck. I couldn’t get it to start. When I went into town for a few things, I got a can of air as suggested by my neighbor Bonnie who had a similar issue with her heater and said it just needed a good blowing out.  I did the air thing.  I still couldn’t get it to start. I called a couple of places in Quartzsite to see if they could schedule a repair. The first place said they didn’t work on Roadtreks. That seemed odd since Bonnie had recommended them because of the good job they did on HER Roadtrek.  Plus, the heater is not a Roadtrek heater, just a typical propane heater found in many makes and models of RV.  I called another place and it went straight to voicemail. He never called back.  I’m hoping it isn’t going to become problematic, but I’m going to have to find a place before December and certainly before January.  Like Rosanne Rosanadana said, “It’s always something.”

Cosmo and I settled into a daily routine. We got up and put on long pants and a sweatshirt (I did, anyway. Cosmo settled for his fur coat) and then went out to pee. We came in and made coffee and got back in bed and checked e-mails, read headlines and listened to podcasts until the sun came up. Then I’d make breakfast for both of us and afterwards we’d go for a walk. Most mornings, Bonnie’s door was open so we’d stop and chat. She offered her extra chair, so I sat and visited and Cosmo found a shady spot and watched for signs of movement in the neighborhood. There is a stray dog who lived somewhere on that BLM land. The neighbors called him Midnight because he is totally black. He is friendly, but cautious. He would come to play with Cosmo, but wouldn’t get close enough for me to touch him.  I put food out for him, but he didn’t eat it, so either others are feeding him or he’s hunting.  I find it hard to believe he can catch enough small animals out in the desert to survive, but he seems well fed and happy. Bonnie said she felt sorry for him, but I told her that I thought he was the canine version of us.  I asked her “How many of your friends feel sorry for you because you “have to” live in a van, out in the wild?  I reminded her that Midnight was the dog version: He was free, happy, did whatever he wanted whenever he wanted. No need to feel sorry for him. She smiled and agreed.

By Saturday I’d not found anyone to look at my heater. After my morning visit with Bonnie, I headed back to the van to make a post on a Vintage Roadtrek bulletin board on FaceBook. Bonnie said that in addition to asking if anyone had any ideas about a quick fix for my heater, perhaps I could ask if anyone who did van repairs would be in Quartzsite next week. She bet I’d find someone there (it is “Snowbird Season” in Quartzsite) who would be happy for the extra work and could do a good job.  I went back to the van and (as I had been doing every morning and night) tried the heater again. I turned the thermostat up and counted to 5 (that’s about how long it used to take to ignite and turn on the blower). I kept trying this thinking perhaps the propane line just needed to be bled after spending months being turned off.  To my surprise (and glee) it started up. I wave of relief came over me that not only would I have heat tonight (it got down to the low 40’s most nights this week) but a major chore/problem had been resolved.  I no longer had to fear the cold unless it got down below freezing, which according to weather.com was not likely in the next 10 days.

 

Lessons From The Road: When I arrived in Ehrenberg BLM, I pulled into a nice spot. I got out and looked around and there was a truck across from me missing a wheel and adjacent to it was a pile of what I perceived as junk and a makeshift dwelling.  It seemed a bit sketchy, so I moved to the opposite end of the area. I mentioned it to Bonnie later in the day, and she told me that a man had lived there full time in a small trailer. After everyone else moved on for the hot summer, he was hit by a violent storm that crushed his trailer. They found him dead, pressed up against one of the collapsed sides. The trailer is rubble and Bonnie said that people coming through have already started to take parts from the truck and things (if they can get to them) that were inside the trailer. (Thus, the missing tire.)  I walked by it again the next day. There was a “yard” defined by stones laid out in a curvy pattern around the trailer, and a “driveway” for his truck to pull in and park, also defined by rocks he had collected.  There was a large pot out front, with plastic plants. It was apparent that he took some pride in his home, however temporary it was. I felt a sadness. I have no idea who this man was or anything about him or his life. And yet I had a deep feeling he was “one of us.”  I don’t know anything about his circumstances.  Perhaps, like me he chose this life, or maybe finances forced him to live life on the road. It saddened me that he was gone, and that (so far) there was nobody to come claim what was left of his belongings.

The spot that I’m currently camped in is as much of a neighborhood as I’ve encountered since leaving Quartzsite last year. My neighbor told me that she has spent every winter here for 4 years and most of the others are also “regulars,” and that a few others would surely come back in December and January.  Even though I plan to go to Quartzsite at some point (not sure yet if I’ll go before or after Thanksgiving), I think I’ll spend much of my winter here. There is not a lot going on, but it’s warm, and the few people I’ve met are friendly.  The woman on the other side of Bonnie went to a food pantry today at a local church. She brought back a box of food and drove over to where Bonnie and I were sitting and chatting. She went through the box item by item and asked if either of us could use any of the items.  I took only a couple of items that she said she wouldn’t use. I felt good that:

  1. There WAS a food bank that gave out food to anyone who wanted it, no questions asked. We waste far too much food in this country.
  2. That someone living on a fixed income (myself included) could get a few things that could come in handy. There were many “shelf stable” items like cans of beans or instant mashed potatoes. I like to have them with me in case I ever get stuck out in the middle of nowhere. It’s good to have non-perishable food just in case.
  3. That someone who could use the extra food was getting it. I think everyone here is on a fixed income, so getting free food means money can be spent on other things as needed
  4. That someone with very little, not only took advantage of free food, but came back and shared it with neighbors.

I felt quite good about all that. I guess I actually felt proud. These are my people. This is my tribe. We take care of each other.

That’s all I’ve got for now.

See you down the road!

Scott

www.ILiveHere.life

https://www.youtube.com/channel/UCx9L4rW4Orsox-BDA4ebmmQ