“Well, I’m learning, it’s peaceful with a good dog and some trees
Out of touch with the breakdown of this century.”
- Joni
The temperatures took a big dip this week and I put on long pants for the first time in nearly a year. We had many cloudy days and a few rainy ones. I remember in the summer thinking how much I was looking forward to temperatures that were not in the upper 90’s. Now that the highs for the day sometimes don’t quite reach 60⁰, my body longs for that hot sun on my skin. But the cooler temperatures bring with it beautiful skies and great nights for campfires and toasted marshmallows. It’s a fair trade-off.
I’ve had some electrical issues this week. I blamed the short days and lack of sunshine for my batteries not charging adequately during the day. Matt came over and checked my system, and we discovered that my house battery was not holding a charge. It turned out that the place I bought that battery from last year had installed a lead-acid battery (which they never should have done, but it fit in the designated compartment, so I guess they thought it would be OK.) I really need an AGM (don’t ask me what the difference is: It’s way above my paygrade) and the one installed was only 55-amp hours, which is totally inadequate. That means it drained completely several times, damaging the battery and making it unable to hold a charge. Matt has built and installed many solar systems in vans and recommended a 100-amp hour AGM deep cycle battery. I ordered one from Amazon, in spite of the fact that it is an inch too long to fit in the current compartment. Matt assured me he would adjust the “box” that the battery sits in and make it work. Fingers crossed.
Thursday, I made a cherry cheesecake, and Matt drove us both down to a pre-holiday potluck organized by a man in the desert who goes all out with decorations and who attracts a wide variety of amazing nomadic people.
I met and chatted with a couple of really nice nomads. I ate some delicious vegetarian food, and enjoyed too many desserts. I got to talk more with Matt (The other Matt who had the potluck) who I realized was one of the top DJ’s at Skooliepalooza each year. He’s a kind and very generous man.
Friday was a dreary, rainy day. Cosmo and I spent it mostly inside and I figured out a convoluted way to charge my Lithium-Ion solar batteries by plugging into my onboard generator (which I’d only used once in 5 years because it is loud as a chainsaw.) We have electricity. We have propane heat, and we have plenty of coffee and snacks, so even the threat of flash floods couldn’t dampen our spirits.
Saturday was cold and damp. (Cold to me is below 50 degrees). We drove into town and picked up milk and bread but otherwise, stayed inside. I’ve been outside on cold winter nights in the desert and even gone outside in the morning so Cosmo and I could pee with no clothes on. I can do cold. The dampness is the killer. That cold goes right to your bones. I’m over it and looking forward to some sunshine this coming week.
Lessons From The Road: Although I’m living in the same place I have lived for the last five winters, my life could not be more different than it has been in those past stays. A friend of mine shared a post this morning about “Why come to Quartzsite?” The guy said “It’s a desert. There is dirt. And rocks. And a few small trees that refuse to die in spite of the fact that the yearly rainfall is about 4”.” That’s extremely accurate. After much thought, I decided that people come to Quartzsite because MANY people come to Quartzsite. I’m not sure how it got started to be a winter destination for snowbirds, but now, because a million people (literally) come here in the winter, everybody wants to be here. And for the second time I am realizing that people and socializing are the point. Q offers very little (beyond beautiful skies, gorgeous sunrises and even more gorgeous sunsets). But it does offer an opportunity to connect with your tribe, no matter what that tribe happens to be. At one end of the spectrum, there are the homeless beggars, who live in cars or in old, dilapidated, rusted vans. They hold up signs on every street corner saying “Need gas” or “God Bless Homeless Veterans” in the hopes of panhandling enough money to eat that day. At the far opposite end of the spectrum are the rich, mainly white, mostly entitled folks from the northern states and Canada. They have happy hour in “The Big Tent” in La Posa South, and they have karaoke and bingo nights. In between (closer to the beggars) is my tribe who meet for drum circles and “bring-what-you-can, if-you-can” potlucks. We come from all walks of life, and all religious and political backgrounds. We are held together by our nomadic life, and a belief that we all have value, regardless of our social, financial, or educational status. I found my tribe in the winter of 2021 here in Quartzsite. I lost contact with it the past few years and floundered through the winter (except for SkooliePalooza) and wandered aimlessly in the desert hoping for human connection. I found it again this year, and it has made all the difference. When I stop to get water, there is always someone at the adjacent faucet. It is unheard of for them not to speak, if only to say “Good morning.” Usually, I strike up a conversation with whoever is nearby. If you are driving on any of the beat up dirt roads that crisscross LaPosa South, it is extremely rare to pass another vehicle and not have them wave, nod or flash the peace sign. We all acknowledge each other, and at any event—drum circle, potluck, or other gathering—we all speak politely and respectfully to each other. I’m feeling quite content and very connected.