My stay at El Dorado Hot Springs was cut short due to the weather. I reserved for a week, because they offered a discount—pay for five nights, stay two extra nights for free. Monday and Tuesday were to be my free nights, and I did manage to stay Monday, but Monday was miserably hot, and Tuesday was supposed to be hotter, so we headed out Tuesday morning. I enjoyed myself. My timing could’ve been better. I so enjoy soaking in hot springs, but not when it is 95 degrees out. Had I gone in cooler weather, the hot water would have felt so much more inviting. I enjoyed the people. Many were very strange to me (as I’m sure I must’ve been to many of them) but everyone was nice. (OK, everyone except that Colorado woman with the bleach-blond hair who always carried a Ball jar of green liquid as a prop to let everyone know her status as a woke health aficionado. And even she was not unpleasant, just snooty and never made eye contact with anyone.)
I got a shower early in the morning before the temperature got too high and then packed up, battened down the hatches and headed east towards Phoenix. I stopped at a Fry’s grocery store along the way. I like Fry’s. They have an amazing selection compared to most of the grocery stores near the places I usually stay, and prices were not too bad. I stocked up on many fresh fruits and vegetables, and some staples and continued northwest, bypassing Phoenix, and heading up to a spot on an Arizona Land Trust just outside the city. It was nice. There were many Saguaro Cacti, scattered throughout the great expanse of dirt and rocks. I found a spot that a month ago would have seemed too close to others, but after spending a week with people parked so close on either side of my van that I could hear them talking inside their rigs as I dozed off to sleep, my new spot seemed quite spacious.
I didn’t move far enough from Phoenix to get out of the heat completely, but it was a few degrees cooler here than it had been in Tonopah. I made myself a couple of bean, rice, cheese, cucumber, jalapeno, red bell pepper burritos, and washed them down with cold water with lemon added. I had been very dehydrated over the past week and made a conscious effort to flush my system out. There was no shade anywhere to be found. That’s good news for my solar batteries which got fully charged for the first time in a week (I had been parked halfway under trees and bamboo in Tonopah to help keep the extreme heat at bay.) Not so good news for trying to get a break from the blazing Arizona heat. There was at least a breeze blowing, and although it wasn’t even close to a cool breeze, with all my van’s windows open, it did help to not feel so smothering inside.
I slept long and hard and woke up just before the sun rose. By the time I got my coffee, I looked out my back window and saw this:
It felt good to be out in the middle of nowhere again. That’s where I seem to thrive. It was fun to be at the hot springs, but not fun to be packed so tightly between two other visitors. In hindsight, a week there was too long. It would have been a better vacation for me had I stayed just a couple nights.
Out on the Arizona Trust Land (Permit required: $15 as I remember for the year, for all Arizona Trust Lands) it was once again mostly silent except for the distant buzz of what sounds like a crop-dusting plane. I went out to explore last night and saw it. I couldn’t figure out if it was a large model plane closer than I thought or if it was an actual pilot in a real plane practicing stunts farther in the distance. It would roar straight up until it slowly stalled, and then flip over, plummeting nose first toward the earth at an alarming speed with the sound of an incoming missile and then pull up at the last minute. I suspect it was a model plane because I can’t believe a live pilot performed that maneuver over and over and over throughout the daylight hours. In fact, it could be several large model planes, with different owners and operators. No way for me to tell without hiking a couple miles across the burning desert to investigate, and, well, I’m just not that curious, I guess. Cosmo and I have taken some nice walks, but mostly just a wide circle around the area where we are parked. The days were hot for the most part but cooling off slightly with each passing day. There has mostly been a bit of a breeze, so at least the air was circulating, giving the impression of cooling things off.
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I spent the next few days (which were much cooler) listening to podcasts, reading some, listening to music (down the rabbit hole of late 1960’s music) and sometimes just sitting and looking out the windows, and taking it all in. I loved seeing those cacti from the old western movies and TV shows, arms skyward as if someone said “stick ‘em up.” The summer-like weather was perfect, and I just let contentment wash over me.
On Saturday morning, I packed up, battened down everything, and headed north along I-17 to Prescott City. I had told Barbara I expected to be there before noon, and with a quick stop at Fry’s Grocery store, we backed into her driveway at 11:57. Cosmo clearly remembered being there a couple times last year and he ran straight to the front door and began barking. We sat in the backyard for a bit, got caught up and then Lark went back to work (in her home office) and Barbara and I made grilled cheese sandwiches and continued catching up. After lunch, Barbara headed to her room for a nap and Cosmo and I retreated to our home in the driveway and used Barbara’s full-sized vacuum to get some of the dog hair sucked up. I put on my favorite playlist and finished up this report and then took a short nap myself. Life is good!
Lessons From The Road: Something changed dramatically once the extreme heat kicked in. I went grocery shopping after I left the hot springs, and I had no interest in purchasing many of the unhealthy things I had on my shopping list. I’ve been saying for months that I must change my diet, and cut out most of the sweets and snacks I craved so often. It was difficult because in Ehrenberg, the only source for food-like products was the Dollar General down the road. It was easy to run into town and pick up cookies, donuts, salty snacks, and empty calories. The extreme heat made me crave fresh fruits and vegetables. I wanted lite snacks, not heavy “comfort foods.” I often have a diet coke with lunch, and I nearly always have an afternoon coffee break with something sweet (usually cookies or a brownie). I looked at the diet coke at the grocery store, and it seemed totally unappealing. I went around to the end of the aisle and picked up an 8 pack of sparkling water with natural cucumber/melon flavorings. When I got back to the van, I poured it over ice, and it was cold and crisp. I also bought a bag of lemons and have been drinking lemon water on ice for the past few days. I got so dehydrated at the hot springs. Lemon and water (LOTS of water) felt so rejuvenating. I got a cucumber and a huge red bell pepper and some green onions and for my afternoon snack, I chopped them all up, with just enough Asian ginger sesame dressing to coat them. It was such a delicious and refreshing snack. I tried all winter to convince myself to eat this way, without success. Suddenly, it was what I hungered for. I hope that continues to be the case, because what I was unable to do for months has now become what I crave.
I realized that as much as I looked forward to my “vacation” at the hot springs, it also brought some unexpected stress. It took me a while to put my finger on it, but after leaving I realized it was my FOMO (Fear of Missing Out) rearing its ugly head again. At the hot springs, I was packed in with others. I’d see someone out with their dog and get Cosmo and head out to chat. Or I’d see someone I’d talked to in one of the hot tubs heading toward the tub area and hurry up and get ready to go back in the hopes of connecting with them again. Or, conversely, I’d be ready to head to the tub area and see someone who irritated me and decide to postpone my soak. I often felt like Gladys Kravitz, looking out the window to see what the neighbors were up to. But now, back in the boonies, I didn’t care what others were doing. My nearest neighbors were at least a hundred yards from me. Out most of my windows were only Saguaro Cacti and mountains. I didn’t feel any need to base my wants on what others may or may not be doing. It’s when I’m at my best.
I’m back in the unknown. All winter I travelled only between Quartzsite and Cottonwood Springs, with Ehrenberg in between—a total distance of fewer than 90 miles. I could make it from one end of my world to the other in under an hour and a half. I knew the places I was staying like the back of my hand and knew the best spots to settle in at each stop. Now, I’m heading into the unknown for the summer, traveling maybe 500 miles from what I am familiar with. I’m once again searching my camping apps for free places to stay, trying at all costs to avoid Walmart and Cracker Barrel parking lots. With a couple years’ experience under my belt, it’s easier than it used to be, and I know some places along my route that I enjoyed two years ago, so will try to take advantage of those spots.