“We are living through a vicious campaign of demonization and hostility toward the homeless.”
~Jamelle Bouie
After all the craziness in our camping space Saturday afternoon, Chase and I built a fire in the makeshift fire ring at the northern edge of our site, or at least the part of “our site” that we’d managed to keep. The rude ranchers were gone, two of the newly arrived rigs pulled up close to other rigs (they were meeting up with their friends who had already claimed part of the site we were in) and everyone settled in, and was quiet. Two of the other campers had small campfires. We built our fire and sat and watched the nearly full moon rise over the mountains. All felt mostly back to normal again.
By Sunday morning, 5 of the vans/campers/RVs had cleared out. The only one left in our site was a gun totin’ redneck from AZ. He was at the far end and kept to himself. We had blown through the firewood gifted to me by my friend Isaac (Thanks again, Isaac…we enjoyed it) so we went inside my van and played Farkle. (I won! Two out of three!) It was quiet outside, and I was glad that the chaos of Saturday afternoon was so short lived. Chase and I both sat outside in the sun, sometimes sharing YouTube or TikTok videos. Sometimes we just sat and took in the view.
A forest ranger came to our site and pulled out his phone and took photos of the backs of our vans and our license plates. He was polite and reminded us of the 14 day stay limit out of 30 days. We told him we were leaving that morning and heading to Flagstaff. He said, “The 14 day stay limit is for the entire Coconino National Forest, and that included the section in Flagstaff where we were headed.” We questioned him some, but apparently not enough. I marked my calendar to be out of the forest by May 18th. That would mean I’d have to find someplace else to stay for 16 days before I could enter the forest again to stay overnight. But what if I left the forest for a week before using up my 14 days out of 30. Could I return to the forest and get the days I did not use? How would they know if I left the forest completely, or just moved to another section? The ranger had informed me that they were very strict about this rule to prevent homeless people from trying to live there. He said violation of the rule would result in a mandatory court appearance, usually taking up an entire day and resulting in a heavy fine. So even though I’m not certain how they track where I am and how many days I’ve been in that same forest, I certainly will be careful not to get issued a ticket that requires a day in court. The ranger had accomplished his mission—to scare would-be squatters from overstaying their welcome. That put a damper on my summer plans to roam around for weeks on end at different sections of the Coconino National Forest.
{I’ve thought about this several times since moving north to Flagstaff. The ranger had made a comment about Chase and me having long hair. He referred to “telltale signs of homeless people moving into campsites and said that having a garden (Chase and I both had cacti in pots, and mine were outside my van door in the sun) was a tip off that someone was “settling in.” I have never been questioned on BLM land, though I’ve often stayed way more than 14 days out of 30, though never all in a row. No forest officials have ever taken photos of my van or my plates (to my knowledge). Perhaps it is not a BLM thing or a Land Trust thing, but just a National Forest thing? After much thought, I’ve decided it was an intimidation thing. We were in a very crowded, very upscale section of the NF near Sedona. I just think the ranger had singled us out as possibly homeless (I’m not homeless, I’m HOME FREE!) and wanted us to move on.}
I got up early Monday morning and prepared to move. After breakfast, Chase and I drove north stopping at Walmart to pick up supplies. I ordered a Domino’s Pizza for us to have for dinner and Chase picked it up after going to a truck stop to get a shower. I drove onto Flagstaff and found us a spot in Coconino National Forest. I had directions to a spot that I loved staying in last year, but although I was heading to the same GPS coordinates, I was coming in from a different direction. The “road” in was severely wash boarded, and my iPhone told me to drive for 5 miles. After driving for what seemed like an eternity at about 7 m.p.h., the Google Maps voice informed me to continue for 4.8 miles. I just couldn’t wrap my head around that, so I turned at the next opening on the road, intending to turn around. Instead, the sloped road led to an opening, with a wall of trees hiding it from the road. The spot was small but level, and already had a firepit with some wood stacked next to it. Jackpot! I set up camp and texted Chase to let him know the change of plans and how gave him coordinates to find me. A couple hours later he had finished his errands and joined me. We gathered more firewood and followed the tiny road through the forest up a hill. Still no tall pines, but more trees than I’d seen in many months and a staggeringly beautiful view.
It was too windy after sunset to light a fire, so once again we came inside and played Farkle until bedtime.
By Tuesday morning, the wind had subsided some, and the sun was fully up in a cloudless sky by 5:30. Cosmo was licking my face as he always does when it’s bright in the morning and I’m not out of bed. I pulled him in close and he rolled onto his back so I could rub his belly. I buried my head in his black fur, shutting out the sunlight, and fell back asleep until 6:00.
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Chase had to be back in Provincetown, MA by Sunday to start his summer job. He came for coffee on Wednesday morning, and we sat outside. It was cloudy and windy and very chilly compared to the past couple of days. We finished our coffee and said our goodbyes. He left and I packed up and got on the road toward Marshall Lake, in the northern part of the Coconino National Forest. It was where we had intended to go together on Monday, but the forest road was so bad we didn’t drive that far. I found another route to get there. It meant going back onto I-40 to I-17 and through Flagstaff. I could have continued down the forest road and gotten to the same spot; it was only 11 miles but would have taken 37 minutes. The interstate route was 36 miles, but Google Maps said it would be 41 minutes. I took the interstates and arrived in just a couple of minutes more than The Great Google Machine had predicted. I easily found a beautiful spot, and got settled in.
It was so nice to be among the tall pines once again. It was sunny and warm, but at over 7,000 feet, it got down to near freezing at night. I slept well. I awoke to a noise that seemed vaguely familiar. It was the sound of the propane furnace kicking on which meant the temperature inside the van had dropped below 50. The sun was just peeping through the tall trees, and I stayed in bed another 5 minutes until the heater turned off, then got up and made coffee. By the time we went outside at about 7:30 the air was cool and still, but the sun was already hot on my skin. I think it was due to the altitude and thin air. We walked and when we returned, I got out my ladder, climbed up on my roof and cleaned all the thick, red dust off my solar panels. I had spinach and mushroom pasta left over from the previous night’s dinner and made a second cup of coffee. We sat outside in the sun for a bit and then walked down the road to meet our nearest neighbors, James and Chelsea. They were quite nice, and we chatted and they played with Cosmo and fed him treats. This new spot already felt like home.
The forest is so peaceful. It was mostly silent except for the occasional vehicle passing by on the road we came in on. At night, it is not only silent, but extremely dark. The moonless night sky at bedtime was full of stars, and just a staggering sight to behold. The altitude (I’m just over 7,000 feet up) makes me sleepy. I definitely noticed the lack of oxygen when Cosmo and I walked, and even though on some levels I feel totally energized from the brisk, mountain air, I notice that in the afternoon I often doze off while reading or listening to an audible book and at night when my head hits the pillow, I’m out…often until sunrise, which is much more subtle due to the trees blocking the sunlight until the sun is well above the horizon.
I continued to visit Chelsea and James. They too are old hippies and we have lots in common. They are kind, gentle souls and I enjoyed our visits.
Lessons From The Road: I spend a little time each day checking out my options of where to go to get propane, fresh water and groceries, and figuring out where I’ll go to do laundry. Rain and thunderstorms are in the forecast, and it makes me uncertain if I can stay in my current location if the rain is heavy. I’m in a clearing that is a mix of dirt and rocks. I know the dirt will become mud with just a small amount of rain; I am uncertain if the rocks will give me enough stability to not get stuck, either while just being parked here or if I need to drive out. I’ll need to keep a close eye on the weather forecast, which seems to shift from day to day, and be ready to move out in short order.
You know by now that after two years on the road, I’ve been up close and personal with homelessness. It’s become a focus for me, taking in all the various levels of homelessness across the spectrum. I read that the new politically correct term is “Houseless.” So now I fall within that definition. I have no house. I always say that I’m not “homeless” but rather “Home FREE.” I have no house by choice, but the choice was to either continue to live in my sticks and bricks building and to work until I’m dead to pay the mortgage and bills, or to find an alternative. My monthly Social Security check would not cover the mortgage, let alone utilities, property taxes, repairs, groceries, etc. So, although I never considered myself a victim, becoming houseless was pretty much my best option for affording to not only stay alive, but live comfortably. I have zero regrets about living in a van. I’m happier than I’ve ever been, and I realize that for many years, even though I lived an extremely meager life, I was in fact on the cusp of living beyond my means. I could afford life, but only with the help of Social Security and working way more hours than I wanted to.
The news of a houseless black man being murdered on a NY Subway by a white marine because he was shouting that he was hungry really hit me hard. For the past year or so I’ve felt like a drop-out of society. I consider the places where I live my life to be out of mainstream United States bullshit. It seems much more appropriate to call the country “The Divided States of America.” I don’t really think of myself as part of America. Most of the time I slip under the radar. I have to interface with Main Street USA when I need groceries or propane or water, but other than that, I stay out of the day-to-day politics and problems of the U.S.
But now those politics have spilled over into my world. Young military men see fit to take it upon themselves to protect the good citizens of the U.S. from ranting homeless people. An old man with a pistol strapped to his hip barrels into the campsite I occupy even though it is already crowded and decides that it is “his right” to set up camp here because, as he stated, “I always take this spot when I come here.” He saw us as the intruders on his land, even though the sign at the entry clearly states “First come, first served.” I have little doubt that had an argument ensued, he’d be “the good guy with the gun.” I read of the latest mass shooting in Texas this week. Just a minor blip on the radar. It’s beginning to be a daily occurrence in the good ol’ U S of A and the politicians who are bought and paid for by the NRA don’t even bother with “Thoughts and Prayers” anymore. They just double down on their lie that guns are not the problem. Homeless people are. Black men are. Hungry people on the NY Subway are. And if you take one of us out, the police will interview you, pat you on the back and send you on your way. Good job.
And I have begun to think that the precedent has been set that taking out crazy, homeless people is, by and large, perfectly acceptable.