Sunday was to be a travel day. I’d planned to pull out of Two Guns and head back to Coconino National Forest near Flagstaff, but I woke to the rocking of the van due to high winds. I-40 often has wind that makes it unpleasant to drive a tall, heavy van, but this felt worse. I got up and made coffee and checked the weather forecast. “Winds gusting up to 40 mph.” Nope. No driving in that kind of wind. I decided to stay put for another day. The winds for the rest of the week were predicted to be 12 to 15 mph. That’s unpleasant for driving, but doable.
I like to move on Sundays. Often the weekend crowd packs up and leaves on Sunday mornings and by early afternoon, there are plenty of spaces open in the new location. I figured that with any luck, the spaces would still be available early Monday morning.
I made breakfast and poured a second cup of coffee and settled in for another day. We went for several short walks, but for the most part we stayed inside. The winds continued to rock the van and stir up dust until bedtime.
Monday morning, I got up just after sunrise (still before 6:00 a.m.) I had coffee and ate leftover pasta for breakfast and we were on our way before 8:00 a.m. I had a plan. I first drove to Planet Fitness in Flagstaff and took a long hot shower, conditioned my hair and beard, and scrubbed my feet with a small scrub brush I have specifically for that purpose. Ah. I am always so thankful for bountiful hot water, lots of pressure and no time limit. The next stop was Walmart to pick up dog food and a couple necessities for me, then on to Coconino National Forest. I was brave and drove way down the road across from Marshall Lake where I stayed last time. There were quite a few spots prior to the lake, but I was feeling lucky. I drove down to the spot I’d occupied before, but it was full. I had passed a couple pretty good spots, so I turned around and found one across from the lake. I pulled in and got leveled easily. I got Cosmo and we walked farther up the hill and I found two spots, farther from the road, and surrounded by tall pines. Both appeared to be so much nicer, and so much more private. I got back in the van and drove up a mildly scary incline and pulled into the first one. I drove slowly and couldn’t get close to level. I backed up and pulled forward a dozen times and then abandoned that one for one across from it. It had more trees, but enough space that I believed I could get sun for my solar generator for much of the day. I pulled into what seemed a flat spot and found that it was on quite a hill. The front tires were 6” below the back ones. I didn’t have enough leveling blocks to make that work. I continued to pull forward, back up, veer left and then right. There were many large rocks and many ruts. So even though it looked level, and at times, I got 3 of my wheels within an inch of level, the 4th one would be off by 6 or 8”. I’d move forward a few inches and then 3 wheels would be off by nearly a foot. It was very frustrating. If you don’t think that being level would make much of a difference, put two bricks under the legs at the foot of your bed and see how you feel after sleeping in it for a night. Not to mention, it really sucks to put an avocado on the kitchen counter only to have it roll off onto the floor. Anyway, I was tenacious and even though it took the better part of an hour, I got every wheel within a half inch of level. Thank you, Richard, for your kind gift of my Level Mate Pro. Without it I would have given up completely and moved to a less beautiful space.
The spot was breathtaking. I could see the lake through a gap in the tall pines surrounding me. There was a tiny “Micky Mouse” teardrop trailer not too far from me, but there were trees in between, giving us both some privacy. The previous tenant, or perhaps someone long ago, built a beautiful fire pit and it had three unused logs stacked beside it.
I immediately noticed the altitude. When I finished unpacking groceries, I was winded. At 7,000 feet the air pretty thin for a boy born below sea level in Delaware.
The week passed quietly. Cosmo and I walked every morning and each afternoon. I spent time sitting out in the sun reading and listening to the rustling of the tall pines. I’d occasionally lay the book on my lap and just look out over the lake, now much shallower than it was 3 weeks ago. I wondered if by the end of the summer it would dry up completely.
Later in the week we had a short-lived thunderstorm just before sunset. I was inside watching a movie but put it on pause because what was happening outside was much more fascinating than anything I could have found on my laptop. The sky changed minute to minute. The rain was light and intermittent, and the sound of the thunder combined with the pinging of my van was fantastic.
{I have a musical van, at least when it rains. Although it is indescribable, I’ll do my best to give you an idea: The rain (and sleet and hail even more so) “pings” when it hits certain parts of my van. I haven’t been able to discover how this is happening, although I know that when drops hit the metal covering of my spare tire hanging on the back of the van, that is one sound. I suspect that the metal sides of the van and maybe the solar panels are contributing to the symphony. It sounds like someone playing kalimba. The intensity of the rain (sleet, hail) changes the song from a few notes to multiple chords. It is quite amazing and beautiful to listen to.}
Anyway, the symphony and ever-changing sky above the lake were spectacular.
Each night when we went out for our good night pee before bed, I’d look up and be gob smacked by the night sky. I’m normally pretty good at identifying stars and planets, but the sky was so full (and the moon doesn’t rise until after midnight these days) that I could barely find my way. Fortunately, Venus and Mars stood out brightly and helped me get my bearings.
I’d had limited conversations with nearby campers throughout the week. Many never looked up from whatever they were doing as Cosmo and I took our morning and evening walks. Some looked up and waved politely and then returned to their chores. But on Thursday afternoon a skoolie pulled into a spot just below me on the hill. Friday morning I saw an older man and a puppy sitting outside and as I walked down the hill, we struck up a conversation. He made me coffee and I pulled up a chair and we talked for a couple of hours about everything from him leaving his wife of 40 years who didn’t want to live on the road, to the Pentagon Papers (ironically, the day before Daniel Ellsberg died) to AI. He was lonely on the road and so last week he adopted an 8-week-old puppy (Roadie is just adorable and made me wonder, briefly, if I could fit another puppy in the van with us). As we were talking, a man in a Volvo pulled into our “driveway” and asked if we knew if there were open spots up the hill (where I was parked). I told him there were two spots and guided him toward one. His name is Brian and after Greg went back into his bus to make a sandwich, I went up the hill and saw Brian sitting outside. We also talked for a long time. He works for his father who lives in Florida and does drop shipping and order fulfillment for a bait and tackle shop. He is an avid photographer and took some time showing me how to use my digital camera. Although I made my living as a photographer in Los Angeles many years ago, I never successfully made the transition from film to digital. I’m glad to know both of them.
Later that night Greg, Brian and I got together for a campfire. Brian had come primarily to shoot the Milky Way that night since we had such dark skies here in the forest. He loaned me one of his lenses and went about setting up the time exposure and showing me how to do the same on my camera. I was amazed at how effortlessly he tapped the touch screen and set up ISO and shutter speed and aperture. I still do all those things manually from the dials on top of the camera, as if I were shooting with my old film camera. It became clear to me I was trying to use 21st century technology in a 1900’s kind of way. I learned a lot. Unfortunately, there were too many clouds in the sky to get a good shot of the Milky Way, but I hope to take my newfound skills and try again on the next clear night.
Once again, my week was made complete by the kindness of strangers. Greg and I seemed tied together by the past. He’s 74 and would often say “It’s probably before your time, but do you remember…?” and I’d say “Of course I remember that” and then fill in some details about the topic to prove I wasn’t just pretending. Two old men, living in vehicles, out in the middle of nowhere. It was a good bond. Brian just turned 39, and talked a lot about women he knows, and one who may come stay with him over the weekend. But we had dogs and photography and the night sky in common and he seemed glad for the company, several times coming over to my van to seek me out for conversation.
Saturday morning, I saw Greg sitting outside his skoolie and Cosmo and I went down and Greg and I talked while Cosmo and Roadie wrestled in the grass. Greg said he was going to make scrambled eggs and asked if I wanted some. I said, “Sure. Would you like some waffles to go with it?” He said yes and we met back in the chairs in front of his skoolie and enjoyed every bite. People were walking by, some with dogs and others alone. Nearly all waved and Greg often struck up conversations with them. I loved seeing how easily he got out of his chair, walked to the road and could talk to them about nearly any topic, from where to catch fish, to the lake drying up during the summer to directions to some nearby town. I just sat in the sun and took in the view of the lake, pines, mountains and clouds, and marveled at my feeling of contentment.
Lessons From The Road: My travels have become quite dependent on weather conditions. Actually, they’ve always been. It would be more accurate to say, “I’ve finally realized that my travels depend on weather.” At my most “Hokey Pokey” I have come to believe that there is a reason for my travel to be delayed or re-routed due to the weather. I sometimes think “Maybe the Universe is taking me to a better place or delaying me so I can get a better spot tomorrow.” At my most scientific, I think “Why fight nature?” It’s not only unpleasant, but also unsafe to drive in high winds, torrential rain, or through/into forest fires. If I’ve got no place I must be, there is no point in rushing to get there. Hokey Pokey, or scientist, I have found that more often than not, waiting for the right conditions to travel have ended in good outcomes, so I no longer dread delays caused by things I cannot control.
Sitting in my van in the forest and looking out over the lake toward a mountain that still has a bit of snow up at the peak, I started to pretend that this was my summer cabin in the woods. Sometimes when I was in my 30’s, I would imagine that when I retired, I’d own two small properties: one in New England for the summer and one in the south for the winter. My summer home would have a tiny cabin in the woods, by a lake where I’d sit out on the porch and just take in the trees and lake and mountains.
When I snapped back to reality, I realized it wasn’t much different from my fantasy. I really DO live here in my “cabin in the woods” only my cabin is on wheels, and the woods is a huge National Forest. I pulled my chair from my “garage” (the storage space under my back bench seat in my sitting area, accessible from the back door of my van) and set it up facing the lake. I smiled at the ridiculously idyllic scene I was facing.
And I smiled even harder when I realized I didn’t have to pretend this was my summer home because in fact, I Live Here!