“Now the warriors of winter they gave a cold triumphant shout
And all that stays is dying and all that lives is getting out
See the geese in chevron flight flapping and racing on before the snow
They’ve got the urge for going and they’ve got the wings so they can go
And I get the urge for going when the meadow grass is turning brownAnd summertime is falling down and winter is closing in.”
― Joni Mitchell
Sunday, I left my spot on Bloody Basin Road and headed south, hoping to find a spot on Arizona Land Trust. No Luck. Everything for miles and miles was blocked off with concrete barricades…the kind they use as temporary lane dividers when doing highway construction. I pulled into a gas station to see where I could go now that my first through fifth choices were shut down. As I searched through listings on my camping apps, I looked across the road to the AZ Land Trust. Hundreds if not thousands of acres of just dirt and cacti. Nothing fancy, but it had made such a great home in the past. I had a hard time believing they just shut it down, blocked it off…all because humans are so thoughtless and selfish. I found I had a choice between paid camping, which was very expensive, or a Walmart parking Lot, a Cracker Barrel parking lot, or a Casino parking Lot. I chose the casino. It was farther than I wanted to drive, but that put me closer to Tonopah the next day. When I arrived, a very nice security guard on a bicycle was finishing up writing a permit for a trucker and told me to pick any spot and he’d find me. I did and he did. We chatted while he wrote me a permit to stay for two nights and told me if I wanted to stay longer, just find him and he’d extend it. I parked at the end of a row of big rigs. Nothing special, but it was level and there were trees and nice landscaping nearby. The big rigs ran their diesel engines all night long. It was hot so I slept with the windows open and tried to tell myself the engines were just white noise. I didn’t sleep well, but I must’ve fallen into a deep sleep right before sunrise. I awakened to a very strange whooping noise. It was similar to when the cops light you up and turn on their sirens briefly to pull you over, but not quite that. Then there were more, stranger noises. Like birds. Or jungle animals. When I took Cosmo out for his morning pee, the racket had increased and I noticed a road sign for a Wild Animal Refuge right across the street. I’m not sure what sort of animals, but they did indeed sound wild.
I packed up and drove on to Tonopah to El Dorado Hot Springs. I’ve always enjoyed a few days there in the spring and in the fall. It’s never been nice, but the owner Matt kept it up enough so it could qualify as “rustic” or “funky.” When I arrived, the place was empty. Had they closed down? I went to the office door, which was unusual. Matt was always outside, usually smoking a bowl. I found a young woman in a yoga outfit sitting at a desk. I asked if Matt was around. She said he had retired and she was his daughter. She seemed annoyed that I’d interrupted whatever she was watching on her computer. I said I was looking for a spot for a few nights, and she informed me that dry camping (no water, electricity, or sewer) was $50 a night. I said (probably way too loudly) “FIFTY DOLLARS A NIGHT FOR DRY CAMPING?” She said “yup” and I thanked her and turned to leave. She said, “Are you a friend of Matt’s?” I said I’d been coming here for 4 years and she asked what Matt charged me. I told her $30 a night and she agreed to let me stay for $30 a night, but made it clear that next time I’d have to pay full price. I thought to myself “Honey, there won’t be a next time, unless you sell this dump to someone who gives a shit.” I paid for two nights and she tried to assign me a site. I said I always stayed back by the pond. She said the pond had been drained and all the spots back there were closed off. She asked me to sign a waiver saying that they were not responsible for any theft, damage or blah, blah, blah. By this time I was so annoyed that I almost asked for my 60 bucks back, but the thought of soaking in the big hot pool was too inviting. I drove back as close to the now-empty pond as possible, parked and went to soak. The big pool was open and overflowing with hot mineral water. There was one other tub out of 8 that had water. The place that was once “rustic” was now just a dump. Once again, I was disappointed by one of my favorite spots being gone.
Monday night there was one other camper who came in late and left early. Tuesday a couple in a van pulled in. There were one or two “hourly” soakers throughout my stay, but by and large the place was deserted. Matt’s daughter had not only made the place much worse, but was charging nearly double for a spot. I never saw her again. She stayed inside, doing absolutely nothing as far as I could tell. I’m betting it will be closed down when I pass through in the spring, if I even go that way again.
I didn’t sleep well on Tuesday night. The coyotes howled all night which meant Cosmo felt compelled to join in the sing-along. I got up feeling negative. I went to the hot pool and took a long hot shower before getting in. The water pressure of the shower was the best thing about the place now, and I enjoyed how good it felt on my skin. I had opened a new bar of “Dirty Hippie” handmade soap (Patchouli and some other essential oils I couldn’t quite identify). I was determined to wash the negative mood off me.
I drove to Quartzsite. I-10 was very quiet, and I daydreamed and sang my way to exit 19. I stopped at Coyote Market for milk and dog food and then drove to The Magic Circle. As I entered LaPosa South, I was pleasantly surprised at how empty the LTVA was. I guess it’s still early in the season. A few miles in was the turn-off for The Magic Circle. I drove up and down winding dirt roads trying to remember where I stayed this time last year. There is one long road, with Avenue’s A through L intersecting and going off to the left and right. I seemed to remember having had a spot on Ave G at some point in the past, so I turned to the right when I got there. I couldn’t recognize my previous spot but found a wide-open space near one of the walking paths. I settled in and breathed a sigh of relief. It felt like home again. The night crept in quietly as it does most nights in Q.
It won’t stay this empty, and by Thanksgiving the snowbirds will start rolling in from parts north. By January, the population of Quartzsite will increase from 5,000 to 1,000,000 or more. Most of them will be rich white people from northern red states. Many of them will flaunt their Trump 2028 flags. I’ve promised myself not to subject myself to that nonsense, and when it gets bad, I’ll find a group flying their rainbow flags or move out of the LTVA to BLM land a couple miles north. Bonnie will be back in Ehrenberg this weekend so and I plan on spending more time over there this year. I do enjoy her being nearby.
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Night fell, and as I went outside to rearrange my solar panels for the morning sun, I happened to look up.
The photos aren’t as spectacular as some of my past Milky Way shots (due to some light pollution from neighboring towns) but the Milky Way itself is ALWAYS spectacular. I think there’s a kid’s book about “Good Night Moon.” I may write my own book. Good Night Milky Way.
Lessons From The Road: The Magic Circle has so much potential, but in the past, it never delivered. There is a FaceBook Group of Magic Circle People. It pretends to be a group of free-spirited, fun-loving, hippie types, and for sure, there are plenty of those types throughout Quartzsite. But the Magic Circle is more a cult of nudists. They rarely have anything nice to say unless you are part of their clique, and mostly post memes about being naked, or snide remarks about anyone they consider not like them. It is, after all, a closed Facebook group, and Facebook is what it is. The reality is that the Long Term Visitors Areas are paid spots (although extremely cheap-$180 for 9 months, and that includes 5 other campgrounds in the area) and unlike other BLM land where the stay is free but limited to 14 days out of any given month, you can stay at any LTVA for the entire time, or jump around. Thus, it attracts a lot of much larger Class A’s, Fifth Wheels, and other large pull-behind trailers who permanently dock for the winter. The wealthy from the great white north come and slum it near the poor folk who are spending the winter in much smaller and less attractive rigs. It seems to me a weird combination of wanting to pretend to be nomads, while at the same time looking down their noses at those of us who are, living in more meager accommodations. Being from many of the northern red states, there is often an undercurrent of whatever the latest fascist propaganda is. Two years ago it was anti-covid vaccines and “Buck Fiden” flags. Last year it was definitely anti-Biden (“Let’s Go Branden” flags) and red MAGA hats. I’m not sure what this winter will bring. I suspect that I’m overly sensitive to it. It’s probably a very small minority bringing this ill will. Last year on a long walk around the perimeter of the circle I counted, and the rainbow flags far outnumbered the Trump flags.
I stayed in a beautiful spot last year, but too close to undesirable people. I’ve vowed to seek out my tribe this year. A beautiful spot is still ugly when it overlooks fascists or is penetrated by the constant noise of generators. (Like being anti-vax, somehow the red state people have decided that solar is too “woke” and opt for noisy, polluting generators to prove their “un-wokeness.”)
And my friend Bonnie arrived this week. I met her a couple years ago on BLM land in Ehrenberg (20 minutes west of Q). She too lives in an old Roadtrek. She didn’t come last year as she was sidelined with shoulder surgery the summer before. We have become good friends. I will certainly spend more time in Ehrenberg this year than I did last year. It’s much quieter there, far less populated and the few neighbors watch out for each other.
That’s all I got
Love you like a dog
See you down the road,
Scott