“If everyone would just sweep their own front steps, the world would be clean tomorrow morning.”
~Me-mom
“Sometimes you need to sweep your neighbors steps if they can’t or won’t do it themselves.”
~Me
I slept in on Sunday morning. It had been cold during the night and I left the window open near my bed. I had to get up in the middle of the night to close it, but the coolness made the comfort of my sleeping bag and the warmth of Cosmo next to me even more cozy. I was dreaming vivid dreams as the dawn peeked over the mountains in the east, and I rolled over to face a wall in order to stay in that dream state a bit longer. I woke up slowly, and realizing it was Sunday, I stayed in bed much longer than usual, having a second cup of coffee, and listening to podcasts and replying to e-mails. Sunday really is no different from any other day on the road, but 70 years of Sunday being a “day of rest” has given me the perfect excuse to be even lazier on Sundays than I often am during the rest of the week.
When the sun cleared the mountain, Cosmo and I went out to pee. He grabbed his tennis ball and since we’ve been in places where it had not been safe for him to run off-leash, I threw the ball a few times into the wide-open dirt lot we were calling home. He ran full speed, leaving a cloud of dust behind him. I made him his usual breakfast of kibble and hamburger, and since it was Sunday, I decided to grate half a potato to make hash browns. As they fried up, I warmed up my coffee, fried an egg and warmed some corn tortillas. It was a Sunday morning breakfast better than any restaurant brunch I’ve been to in a few years. A wave of contentment washed over me. I was in a good place, not only physically, but mentally as well.
Monday morning I drove west to Holtville Hot Springs. I’d been there a few weeks back and loved it, so in a little over an hour (with a stop at a Walmart Neighborhood Market in Yuma) I was back in my same spot in the Long Term Visitor Area (LTVA) where I’d been previously. After settling in, I crossed the road to the hot spring. It was such a delight to immerse my entire body in the big pool. There are always a wide variety of people soaking; many keep to themselves and avoid eye contact, but there is always some friendly soul that takes on the role of greeter and strikes up a conversation. There’s also usually at least one person, often male, going on a rant about “the illegals” crossing the border or whatever the latest conspiracy theory happens to be. I’ve learned to pretend they are invisible, talk to one of the friendly folks, and eventually he either homes in on someone else, or gives up his mission of converting people to his bat-shit crazy beliefs and leaves.
I walked over to the hot springs at least a couple of times every day. There are two pools. One is deep, and if I stand on the bottom, the water is up to my chin. People have placed large rocks on the bottom in the corners so those of us who are vertically challenged can stand on them without worrying about keeping our heads above water. Adjacent, is a smaller, shallower concrete pool where you can sit on the bottom. I often sat in that, leaned back with my head hanging over the side resting on the concrete surrounding it.
Thursday morning, I crossed the road and headed to the hot spring only to find that it had been vandalized. The main pool is filled from below (I found out there is a valve that can be opened or closed to control the amount of water flowing in, and since the water from the ground is uncomfortably hot, closing the valve a bit limits the amount of new, hot water coming in.) There is a pipe sticking up next to it that has an elbow with a PVC pipe attached. The PVC pipe is parallel to the ground and it has tiny holes drilled in a straight line along the top. The hot mineral water flowing through it has enough pressure to turn this into a shower, with the spray shooting up skyward and by the time gravity pulls it back down, it has cooled down enough to not scald anyone (though it is still a very hot shower). When I went over on Thursday morning, this piece had been broken off and apparently stolen (for what purpose, I cannot imagine other than sheer meanness.) Someone had placed a large rock over the upright pipe, and steaming water was spraying out sideways. Vandalism really bothers me. I can accept someone stealing food if they are hungry, or even robbing a store to get money for a drug fix. I cannot comprehend how someone could destroy such a beautiful place, offered free to the public, for no apparent reason other than to be an asshole. In striking up a conversation with a man next to me, he told me there were a group of Canadians who stayed on BLM land nearby and voluntarily took care of cleaning the pools every Tuesday morning, and took it upon themselves to do whatever maintenance they could. He said he’d lived in Canada, and the Canadian people have a different sense of service than Americans do. They often take on community projects just because they just need to be done. And just as the conversation finished, right on cue, a man came with a PVC pipe with an elbow attached. He was one of the Canadian volunteers, had driven to town to buy a new piece of PVC and made a replacement part. He attached it and had it working in no time. We all clapped and thanked him.
Friday was quite hot–88⁰ by mid-afternoon. The hot pools weren’t quite as nice when you got out of steaming water into such heat, but hey, it was still hot mineral water and my skin and achy shoulder thanked me for the dunk. I’ve gone to the hot tubs often enough to see some of the people several times. I know some by name. We sit and chat and share stories from living on the road. Sometimes I sit alone with my eyes closed and listen to conversations around me. I am surprised how often people are sharing disinformation or conspiracies. I tend to ask people where they are from, where they are going, what they are living in. They fill in many other blanks while relating there story. But more and more, people want to tell you what’s going on in the world and more often than not, when I ask why they think that, they have no logical reason to believe what they say is true other than “I heard it on the news” or “It was on the internet so it MUST be true.” And so often, what they say is so far out of the realm of reality that I wonder why they feel a need to tell everyone else something that is so obviously not true. Some people close their eyes and lean back, disengaging from it; others see it as a challenge and feel a need to play “Can you top this?” and they tell an even more sensational story. I don’t get it, but it fascinates me. Nobody seems to like it when I ask a logical question about the illogical statements.
Lessons From The Road: I think I may have mentioned that instead of making a New Year’s Resolution that I’ll break after a week or two, I decided that I’d pick a goal for the year. In 2023, my goal was to Be Kind. At first, it was difficult at times, especially when I met unkind people on the road. So I started by not being mean to people that were too obnoxious to be kind to. After a few months, I learned that when someone went off on a rant about how great Donald Trump was, I not only managed to not be mean, but I could muster the grace to smile and say “Hey, you have a nice day, OK?” before turning and walking away. My goal for 2024 is to “Be Of Service.” I wasn’t sure how I would do that, but I’ve kept it in mind and done little things when I can. It is just a half a notch up from being kind. Sometimes it is as simple as picking up a piece of trash and putting it in a garbage can.
I was inspired by the group of Canadians who voluntarily maintain the hot springs. They empty the pools and power wash on a weekly basis. They pick up trash and rake around the area daily. They receive no financial compensation. They do it because it is something of value, offered to them for free and they feel some need to chip in and give back. I haven’t figured out the specifics, but I like the Canadian model. I can’t fix all the world’s problems, but maybe today I can fix just one of them.