“All alone, I came into the world
All alone, I will someday die
Solid stone is just sand and water, baby
Sand and water, and a million years gone by
I will see you in the light of a thousand suns
I will hear you in the sound of the waves
I will know you when I come, as we all will come,
Through the doors, beyond the grave.”
~Beth Neilson Chapman
The week started out with one of the laziest Sundays I’ve had in a long, long time. Chase and I had stayed up late Saturday night playing Farkle and it was nearly midnight when I went to bed. I don’t even stay up until midnight on New Year’s Eve, so this was a pretty big deal. I woke up at the crack of dawn as usual (sunlight is my alarm clock) but pulled the covers over my head (my snooze button) and fell back asleep until the sun had cleared the mountain tops in the distance. I got up and made coffee and answered e-mails. Chase texted about 9:00 and asked if he could join me for coffee. I told him it was made and to bring his mug. This has become a morning ritual…sitting in the back of my van at the table and having coffee together. Neither of us are very conversational in the morning, so we sat, sipped coffee, and each spent time on our phones watching YouTube videos or checking e-mails and texts.
When we finally got up and moving, we pulled up our chairs outside, staying close to my van to block the wind which wasn’t bad, but it was cold. When the wind died down, the sun felt so warm; when it was blowing, we bundled up in blankets over our hoodies. Before long I felt my head nodding and instead of fighting it, I dozed off. I woke up when I heard Chase snoring lightly beside me. I smiled. In so many ways it felt like we are an old married couple, silently enjoying each other’s company. We are content in our silence, and I especially felt comforted by his change of breathing. I smiled that he was so comfortable with me to just nod off. I get the same feeling when Cosmo falls asleep on my lap and gently snores.
We did eventually go for a walk and collected some firewood and looked at the artwork strewn across the 450 acres of BLM land. People had collected rocks and made mosaics on the ground.
We brought the firewood, most of it left in various fire-rings, and put it next to our firepit. We made dinner and then went out and lit the fire. The wind had died down, and although the temperature dropped when the sun set, the fire kept us warm. We toasted some marshmallows and chatted about the day, our site, our lives as nomads, but mostly about what a perfect day it had been.
Monday was errand day. I drove us into town and we both got showers. Across the street was a small and quite expensive grocery store. We picked up a few items for the next few days. Chase wanted a telescoping flagpole to attach to his van so he could fly his shark flag. It’s one that lifeguards put out on Cape Cod when a shark is spotted. It was a nice bit of humor to fly a shark flag in the middle of the Sonora Desert. We stopped at many shops. Most were packing up for the season, and at each, the merchants were extremely helpful, saying they didn’t have a flagpole, but each made recommendations as to who in town might have one. We did finally track one down. Chase flew the shark flag the rest of the week, until the wind and rain made it impractical.
Tuesday was a repeat of our lazy Sunday. Chase came over for coffee in the morning. I had a percolator; he had some freshly ground Starbucks. We drank mostly in silence, playing on our phones. When we got bored sitting inside, we went outside and sat up close to my van again to protect ourselves from the cold wind. The sun was warm, and it wasn’t long until both of us fell asleep. When we woke up, we made quesadillas and sat inside for a bit. Chase went for a long bike ride, and I came in to write.
Chase had originally intended to leave Wednesday, but the weather forecast was for high winds and heavy rains. That’s not a good driving day, so he stayed. The winds weren’t as high as predicted, but it rained and was quite cold—or at least the damp weather made it seem so. Each time we went out to pee, we came in shivering, chilled right down to the bone. We stayed inside my van all day because I’m set up with a table and perfect seating in the back for playing games and eating. And that’s about all we did—played Farkle, Kaluki, and ate meals and snacks and drank hot chocolate. I think after about 12 hours together, we lost interest in games and conversation, so we sat side by side in the back of my van, Cosmo draped across my extended legs and each of us retreated into our own worlds on our phones. There was something strangely comforting about being alone together. I think living in vans has taught both of us to savor alone time. I think living so close to the world in a small space has taught us both how to be alone with others nearby. We seem to have perfected it. For me, it was nice to feel Cosmo lying across my lap, and Chase’s shoulder against mine as I drifted in and out of consciousness and he scrolled through Instagram.
Thursday morning I headed out and went back to Ehrenberg. Before I went back, I stopped for groceries, filled my gas tank and picked up a Domino’s pizza. I got my usual spot in Ehrenberg, and Cosmo and I went down to visit Bonnie. We hadn’t talked in a while because I was gone almost a week and before that, the weather wasn’t conducive for an outside visit. I went to bed early and got up early on Friday so as not to be rushed. I was going to be driving to JTBLM to meet up with Kitty and wanted to get there before noon as sometimes the BLM land gets full over the weekend. I was ready to leave by 10:00 and head out. I stopped and said good-bye to Bonnie and then texted Kitty that I was on my way. I forgot that I was an hour ahead of her since AZ stays in Daylight Saving Time all year. I arrived first, but Kitty was only a couple minutes behind. We parked and then walked around until we found a really great campsite. (Our two former favorite spots were already occupied.) We settled in and sat outside in the sun and got caught up.
On the way in, I saw that Rob’s pop-up camper had been towed. Chase had come through there on his way to Palm Springs on Thursday and said that it was gone. Everything was cleaned up, raked over with barely a sign that Rob had ever been there. We still don’t know what happened to him, but the two best guesses are jail or dead. Neither one is a pleasant prospect. It felt sad to me to have no closure. Kitty felt the same so we sat at the campfire and decided we needed to do some sort of “letting go” ritual for Rob. His mysterious disappearance haunted both of us, so we took turns remembering our week together and wished him a safe journey. It is unlikely that we’ll ever know exactly what happened to him. We walked by his old spot and there was a hole dug, with a second level, sort of like a sitting area. There was a built in firepit. It was clear that he had been cold, dug a hole/seating area with a mattress on the “floor” so he could light a fire and stay warm at night.
The weather was mostly warm and our bonfire added to the comfort and warmth. The moon is nearing full, and it was just a very nice night to sit outside by a blazing bonfire. We toasted marshmallows and talked until bedtime.
Saturday, we got up and took a walk. We scavenged firepits throughout the area and found some unburned firewood. We came back and Kitty made breakfast burritos and it was nice enough to sit outside and eat and have a second cup of coffee.
Lessons From The Road: I started to find many rocks in Quartzsite that were brown and edged in black. They reminded me of some sort of prehistoric rock and I just imagined finding them inside a cave with petroglyphs etched on them. I decided to start playing with them and making my own petroglyphs.
I made a few with “cave people” on them, and one with a fish skeleton sort of like a fossil imprint. I expanded to include a howling wolf, a cactus and sunrise, and Kokopelli. I was having fun and Chase thought they were entertaining, so he kept picking up every brown, flat, black edged rock he came across. We decided I should take the finished pieces with me on walks and just leave them around near campfire rings, or under trees or along hiking paths. I’ve been doing that, in the hopes that someone I know will see one and realize that I was the one who left it.
Rob continued to be on our minds. I had to do a lot of mental sorting of all the possibilities. He left everything he owned behind. His E-bike and dog and wagon were gone. It appeared that he left on his bike, pulling the wagon with his dog in it, intending to come back shortly. He never did. The most likely scenario is that he left, quite stoned or tripping (which he did very often) and either got stopped by the police or hit by a car. He usually had a backpack full of weed and mushrooms, so if he got stopped for a traffic infraction (which was highly likely since he didn’t have much use for rules and regulations), he was likely doing prison time. It was also likely that since he often drove his E-bike in an altered state, at night, without a light, that he had an accident. Kitty had searched police arrests and ambulance calls as best she could and came up empty. There wasn’t much hope of success since we only know him as “Rob” with no last name. It’s likely we’ll never know what happened. It made an impact on both of us. I can’t speak for Kitty, but for me, it was about a fellow wanderer. A man alone with his dog. Here one day, gone the next. When I left Tom and Roy’s the day after Thanksgiving, they had sent me off with lots of leftovers. So the Friday after Thanksgiving I was back at the BLM land and asked Rob if he’d had Thanksgiving dinner. He said he had not, so I invited him for a grand spread of Thanksgiving delights. He came and sat in my van and ate like there was no tomorrow. He thanked me profusely when he left for the night. He was a loner and somewhat of a societal outcast. He had mentioned that his family had pretty much disowned him. Right before we met he’d had his car repossessed. Did anyone besides me and Kitty even notice he was gone? Did he move on to something better? Unlikely since he left thousands of dollar’s worth of weed and mushrooms and camping equipment behind. Although I only knew him for a week or so, I missed him and worried about him disappearing with no trace. There is some sort of connection among nomads. When a kind stranger crosses my path, even one who I know I’ll probably never see again, they often leave an impression: That people can be kind to strangers and make an impact on someone’s life just by passing through with kindness. Rob made such an impact on me. I hope he is safe wherever he is, or that he passed quickly and painlessly.
That’s all I got.
See you down the road!
Scott
https://www.youtube.com/channel/UCx9L4rW4Orsox-BDA4ebmmQ