“Little sisters of the sun lit
Candles in the rain
Fed the world on oats and raisins
Candles in the rain
Lit the fire to the soul
Who never knew his friends
Men can live as brothers
Candles in the rain.”
~Melanie Safka
On Sunday the wind was blowing so hard that my tent flattened (apparently a good design as it didn’t blow away and was easily re-up righted when the wind stopped.) The dust storm was sufficient to keep most people inside their rigs for the day. I had to put a towel over my air conditioner as the back was facing the wind, and dust was blowing through the vents and being sprinkled throughout my van like a fine dusting of cinnamon.
No sooner was I fully set up and settled in on Saturday evening than I realized if I would go about 50 yards down the same, dead-end road, I could claim an “end spot.” I could spread out a little and would basically occupy the end of a peninsula. As others come in, they could park close to me, but it would reassure that I have a clearing on three sides of the van, and I always like when I don’t feel too boxed in. I planned to move early Sunday morning, but the wind made moving too difficult. I kept my fingers crossed that no one would take that prime spot before I moved.
My friend Marcos, who I met my first year out at JTNP BLM land, texted on Sunday and asked where I was. He was passing through the area, and he stopped and spent the night here in Ehrenberg. It was so good to see him again as it had been two years since we last hung out at Skoolie. We spent Sunday morning in my van, went for a walk in the afternoon and after sunset he texted and said he had a bottle of wine. He brought it over and we sat in my “Living Room” and got caught up on all our mutual nomadic friends that either of us had seen since the last time we were together. It was a very nice visit.
.
I asked Marcos to park in the “good spot” I wanted to move to, and in the morning when he was ready to pull out, I moved over and took his place. He helped me move my tent over so I didn’t have to take it down completely and put it back up again; we just each took two corners and carried it over. The new spot is at the end of a peninsula, surrounded on three sides by a deep wash. Using Florida for reference, with my van, table, chair and tent I’m spread out from Miami to Naples and from my back window I can see clear up to (get your maps out) Tallahassee. My van is parked so that when I sit in my regular spot at the table, I have a view up the main road with all the buses, vendors and various other rigs. I can see Tye Dye Bob’s bus from here and David’s van, across the wash. He is on the next peninsula over which was the inspiration for me moving.
The wind was howling most days with gusts up to 40 mph. That kept many people inside. Cosmo and I went for short walks, but the wind and dust made it unpleasant to be outside. I visited David a couple of times and we sat outside his van, bundled in winter clothes (winter clothes for southern Arizona, not winter clothes for Minnesota) and blankets. I ventured up the main road once or twice, and bought a pot cookie and some mushroom chocolate from a woman in a white bus. It made me smile. I think this is what the world would be like without government interference. I was a bit surprised that she was so nonchalant about selling marijuana and psylocibin mushroom-laced chocolate, but the rule of skoolie seems to be to respect others, be kind, help where you can. After rethinking it (and buying samples of both her confections) I decided she was well within the unwritten rules. The cookie is potent. I’ve had a tiny bite each day and that is enough for me to feel it, to find humor in almost everything I encounter, and to spend most of the day walking around with a silly grin on my face.
### ### ###
The full Wolf Moon rose nearly at the same time the sun was setting. It was magnificent appearing over the mountains in the east.
For several nights before and after the full moon, it lit up the desert sands and made it possible to walk at night without a flashlight.
On Wednesday, many new people started rolling in. Up the road, new skoolies were filling in empty spots and down near me, a pick-up truck with a camper in the bed, and a tiny pull-behind parked just up from me. At the split in the road as you come into the main area, someone had set up a pyramid made from poles. She comes every year and does her arial act, hanging from a rope at the apex of the pyramid, and does a sort of trapeze “Cirque du Soleil” performance on nights when the music gets loud and the night crowd gets a bit rowdy.
On Thursday, my friend Terry stopped by for a quick visit on his way west. We had met 4 years ago at Van Pride and have remained in touch. I hadn’t seen him for a couple of years so it was nice when he pulled his van in next to mine and we got to hang out and catch up.
We sat outside after sunset and watched as many new people arrived for the weekend and, I guess, the semi-official start of Skoolie Palooza. By Friday morning, there were a lot of new rigs filling in empty spots.
Also on Friday, the wind subsided and the temps got up into the 70’s. It was so nice to be outside and warm without the wind blowing dust everywhere. Overnight, the caravans rolled in. When I awoke Saturday morning there were several new circles of busses and vans.
Shortly after sunrise, the makeshift town came alive and there were people of all sizes, shapes and colors wandering the dusty roads. I had my coffee in bed as usual, then walked Cosmo. I made Cosmo some breakfast, left him in the van and headed up to Tie-dye-Bob’s bus. His kids were making crepes for breakfast and I bought three and sat and chatted with others enjoying their meals. After a bit I walked down to the pot cookie lady’s bus and got a cup of coffee, and again sat and chatted with the group that had gathered for their morning caffein. Later I went to visit David. He was alone, which has been rare here, as he has been coming here for many years and seems to know everyone and he has lots of visitors. We had a nice chat, and then I took my E-Bike for a ride up the road and found a woman doing haircuts. She trimmed my beard for me and I think it looks very nice.
I could pass as respectable if I really tried. (Not likely).
Lessons From The Road: Human beings can be so kind it brings tears to my eyes. They can also be such assholes that I remember why I don’t own a gun. I watched a Jimmy Kimmel monologue one day on YouTube. He was all choked up at the braveness of the firefighters who came from other states and other countries to try to put out the fires ravaging L.A. He was on the verge of tears over the kindness of people making food to feed those who had lost their homes, or who were fighting the fires, and the people donating pet food at animal shelters. When the chips are down, humans can be amazingly warm and caring to fellow humans. And then there is Donald Trump and his MAGA minions who see if they can make a bad situation even worse. That’s the good ol’ U S of A.
Out here on the fringe, I often come across a microcosm of America. I’ve made friends with people who have very little. They are sometimes in older vans or busses. Some are living out of the trunk of their car. They may not have much, but they almost always have a smile and a wave. People who have very little will most often be the first to share whatever they do have with you, even if you don’t ask. It’s refreshing to run into that. I’ve seldom run into outright meanness in nomadic circles. There is the occasional bonfire where people are sitting around criticizing the woke politicians in California, but politics is not that prevalent in nomadic camps. We by and large live outside of politics and often outside the rules and perceptions of the rest of the country. As Skoolie Palooza fills up with everything from beat up old sedans, high-end Mercedes vans, small busses, giant skoolies and most everything in between, there is a noticeable absence of the million-dollar class A’s that are so prevalent in Quartzsite over the winter. I’m reminded of the Garth Brook’s song Friends in Low Places. Skoolie definitely qualifies as a “low place” and maybe that’s why I find it so much more civil than when I have to engage with The Empire.