What would be a good day for you? And everyone you know? My schedule is pretty open though I would like to get this one out of the way as soon as possible. Pick a day that works for everyone. Ask around to be sure. Ask everyone you know to ask everyone they know.
What would be a good day for you for the last bomb to drop?
Yes, I finally made it to the Grand Canyon.
The Grand Canyon? Big hole in the ground; red rock, done.
Like the Giant Sequoia, the Grand Canyon cannot be adequately photographed, though everybody tries. Yes, it is bigger than you imagine it. So imagine it WAAY bigger. And a little bigger than that; there, you've got it. Almost. You really do need to see it, once; walk up to the edge, any part of it will do, take a good look. The rest of it is the same. Big hole in the ground; red rock.
The architecture around the canyon, however, deserves and will get another post. I promise. I may have to return just for the architecture and the Native Art. For example, in the early thirties they asked the same architect, Mary Colter who designed a bunch of the buildings there to design a gift shop and rest area for the east end of the south rim and she came up with an amazing, read "amazing", tower. And they hired Hopi artist Fred Kabotie who made traditional images of religious activities and stories from their mythology, and Fred Greer who gave us perhaps the only existing copies of the original story telling images found at Abo, New Mexico, to do the interior. Most of the tourists don't even realize they are looking at the real thing. There is a little character with stupid hair playing a flute rampant in Arizona. This damn thing is everywhere! T-shirts, civic buildings, sidewalks and "native" art sold in all the stores. Interestingly, this little character appears nowhere in the real art painted inside this tower by the real people at the time. There is one instance of a stick figure with a flute and big shoes, presumably copied by Fred Greer from the site in New Mexico, no stupid hair. There is more of this stuff round the canyon and it is holding up surprisingly well but they can't maintain it forever so this is a must see. More on that later.
I think I have had enough National Parks, holes in the ground and alien landscapes for this year. I drove right through National Park central in the night. Southern Utah; home of Bryce Canyon, Zion National Park, Escalante, Dixie, Pink Sand Dunes and oh so many more; it will take most of next year to see a fraction of it all. I have been out here for almost 7 months and I think six would have done it. Next year, I think I will leave late October, early November like the experienced SunBirds do. I'm learning. So I am heading back to Seattle as quickly as I can afford fuel. Maybe there is some work there. What there was out here seems to have dried up completely for the holidays which apparently extend into May. Or the economy is done for good and I am making a terrible mistake setting myself up to be stranded someplace that is not warm.
Or: I am hoping to watch, from the Pacific Northwest, paradise in the summer; to watch if at all possible, if this culture can pull it's head out of it's ass now that it really has a chance, a real chance, to watch the commencement of a new age of enlightenment, please.
“Home is not where you live, but where they understand you” -- Christian Morganstern
I've been out here for something like 6 months now and have spent a total of 4 days out in the boonies actually boondocking that one time above Joshua Tree. I think I'll hole up way back out of sight here at Quartzsite for a few days and paint and hang out with birds and work on the rig which is to say, do absolutely nothing for a while.
I pulled into Green Acres Mobile Park after all with an effort to bring no expectations, only hope that I could take a shower and do some laundry. The door to the office was locked but a sign over the doorbell said push hard. I had received instructions to leave a message both times I had called which I ignored. I was patient with the doorbell. Not long though and a woman's voice called hello from behind the mobile the office was attached to. She had to go through the back and come open the front door.
Mary, somewhere around over 80, this is her place. She bought it from a 70 year old guy some 40 years ago. "God puts us where we're supposed to be" she said while telling me this over dinner. While checking in she revealed she had worked in a sweat shop for General Electric "during the war" and was impressed that I knew something about such things. I told her I had just come from the General Patton Memorial Museum which is right on the way there from Palm Springs. We chatted for quite a while about quality, responsibility and education.
I pulled into my chosen slot, hooked up and went in search of a shower. Got called over to my neighbors instead. It's like that out here, by the way. Any reasonable plan has to allow for one or three unplanned conversations with neighbors, passers by and friends you have not met yet. Remember, most of the folks out here are old and know what is important in life. Seems the most important thing is time spent talking to other people. I'm learning.
I met Paul and Phil and their wifes. It is Phillip's 85th birthday today so everyone is going to the restaurant in town. Phil invited me and we rode in the back of the pickup truck so there would be room for the women. I could just as well have walked and got there about the same time, "town" is that big and that far away. Good hand made fresh food. I ordered a swiss bull with fries and a side salad with blue cheese and did not have to clarify swiss bull. That is always a good sign. And a root beer in a bottle. Mary had a card but there was no cake so I asked one of the proprietors if they had any birthday candles and they assured me they did so I asked for one candle and a snickers bar on a plate brought to the table. Town is that big and that far away so they know this guy and jump right in on the idea. Nice. Everybody sings and all not on a diet have a piece of "cake."
The shower was warm, not hot and in the ladies room. I guess the men's room is being remodeled.
"Never approach a bull from the front, a horse from the rear, or a fool from any direction." -- Any Cowboy with any sense
Woke up in the Palm Springs area, parked a little off level mingled into employee street parking in the light industrial area surrounding the Thousand Trails park. Stopped here to visit a friend I met here last year. Going to hit the thrift stores, fuel up, there's a Winco here and maybe grab some Mexican food. We went out for "mexican" food last night after the "jam session" at the Thousand Trails. I actually knew some of the music. Favorites like "On Top of Old Smokey" and "God is Great." I picture 6 or 7 of us sauntering in with our strollers and sitting down to a rousing rendition of "Stairway to Heaven" and anything by Suzi and the Banshees.
Oh, clue. "Del Taco" is not a Mexican restaurant. That's like going to Taco Bell for Mexican food in Yuma Arizona. Just plain wrong.
Rather than get all depressed about the state of the economy and the subsequent lack of available work I thought I might do a little sight seeing after hanging out in a Western Horizons park for a few days. Besides, I was out of propane and had just got paid for the last work so I headed back to Cottonwood to catch the last couple thrift stores I missed last time and on through up to Jerome, an old mining town above Cottonwood. On the way out of Cottonwood towards Jerome one passes Tuzigoot. There is also a nice trail to a raised lookout over the marsh apparently created by the Beaver dams. Jerome is held to the side of the canyon by spit, hope and god as near as I can tell. Everything has been there a hundred years or more but I think most of the original town rolled down the hill into Cottonwood long ago. I watched the sunset from the deck of the "Haunted Burger," a well recommended and highly reviewed burger place with a great view of the Verde Valley and the hills beyond and a burger that merits its fame.
After dinner I resumed the quest for propane back in the valley only to discover that the Shell stations that had propane didn't trust the people they hire to dispense propane "after dark." Of course anyone that can get a vehicle on the property can pump gasoline into whatever they have but propane apparently becomes a "dangerous product" when the sun goes down. If I ever give you the impression that I think Americans have become useless moronic chicken shits, I have done my job. I suspected that Flying J had more faith in their people and were not afraid of the dark so I googled flying j on google maps and the closest one was in Phoenix. I had not really planned on going to Phoenix but I had not ruled it out either. Besides, the weather report there was for lows around 50 degees as apposed to the low 30's that had used up all my propane in the first place. Off to Phoenix.
Wikipedia sez Phoenix is a republican stronghold (oh goody) and that downtown had a first friday art walk. Oh, look, it's first friday. So I parked as close as I could without meters and headed downtown on foot. The curator/owner of the first gallery I walked into and I chatted a little and she directed me back in the direction I came and to the left. This turned into a very nice evening. Phoenix artists seem to have taken over most of the neighborhood along Roosevelt between Central and way off that way. Workshops, co-ops and galleries mixed in with coffee shops, gift and crap stores, a backyard bicycle shop and community services. The street was buzzing with life and music and art good, bad and real. I had a great time and enjoyed the nostalgia of times long passed in Seattle. I found out there was another scene over on Grand to the west so walked over and found more. Caught the last set by the "Relics" and an impromtu flute and guitar jam, learned from the locals more about Phoenix and headed back to call it a night.
Decided instead to follow the sound of some techno crap and found a couple fellows that wanted to talk and one suggested we cross over to the "Roosevelt" where we could actually hear each other so we did and indeed, we could. The Roosevelt carries an excellent root beer and we talked about art, style and politics until they threw us out. One of the gentlemen invited me to take advantage of a locked and private fenced lot right in town to park safely for the night and the next morning I awakened to find myself in the middle of the thrift and antique store district. Many of the stores had collaborated and printed a map. A full day of shopping and all I found that warranted acquisition was a black bow tie which fit right into the rig without disposing of anything to make room.
I had spent the first night in Phoenix comfortably at the Flying J where I filled up with propane, fuel and water and dumped tanks. Had quite possibly the best introduction to the city possible and spent the second night safely hidden away right in town. Thanks Brian!
I had decided to head back to LA on the trip north. I had gone everywhere I had hoped to on this trip. Down the coast. Yosemite. Slab City and Quartzsite. And places I did not intend to go and places I did not even know existed. As far south as Yuma, Arizona and as far east as Phoenix. While every day was full of life the past five months seem to have passed quickly. Though not the blink of an eye 5 months of a full time office job passes.
Under this full moon sitting on this tank of gas, it feels like I am headed home. This journey is no where near over, not even this leg of it and home is more of a feeling than any kind of a reality at this time. However, when my friend Daniel posted the notice of an anti-valentine's party on facebook back in LA, that seemed like the sign to head back for spring.
"If thou art rich, thou'rt poor; For, like an ass whose back with ingots bows, Thou bear'st thy heavy riches but a journey, And death unloads thee."
--William Shakespeare
Southbound on 17 turned into driving at night but not until after a fantastic sunset in the high desert and a night view of a civilization's electric lights on the valley floor glimpsed now and then between the rocks while trying to maintain a safe speed on a 6% downhill grade. This kind of stuff is what life is all about!
I thought I would stay the night in a rest area at around 4800 feet but I could not get the rig near level even parked backwards and taking up three spaces. Moved on. Got off the freeway at McGuireville and Montezuma Well and Montezuma Lake and I remembered seeing something about Montezuma's Castle on the way to Flagstaff and I'm thinking Montezuma was in South America, right. Someone was confused and that someone was me. There is a Montezuma Well and a Montezuma Castle in the middle of Nowhere, Arizona. But at the time it was night in the desert and I had no idea where anything was. So I followed some signs looking for somewhere to park and ended up on a dirt road for miles and eventually gave up and pulled over, got level and crashed. In the morning I was able to look around and at the maps and figure out how much simpler it would have all been if I had any idea where I was. Montezuma's Well was right nearby and I had accidently found a really cool Boondocking spot for a smaller rig like mine.
Clue here. If you ever drive up or down 17 south of Flagstaff, do not miss Montezuma Well! It is one of those places I had no intention of going even if I had ever heard of it before, which I had not. It is a nice short drive to a nice short trail to a blow your fabulous mind sink hole that passes over a million gallons of 72 degree water a day into the desert. This thing supported an entire mini civilization for hundreds of years and must have been fantastic back then and what remains today is fascinating. The crumbled limestone sides are littered with small caves walled off into little apartments and storage units. Really cool place.
Played at the Well for a while and then went to Cottonwood for coffee and some thrift stores. Staying in the Walmart there. Montezuma's Castle tomorrow I think.
“The gods' most savage curses come upon us as answers to our own prayers, you know”
Lois McMaster Bujold
I became a full timer at heart when the hippies in the International Harvester Travelall came to visit sometime in the early 70's for a couple weeks and make candles at the ranch to sell at folk festivals. I was not to actually go full time until some 37 years later when I finally got priced out of the area I wanted (thought I wanted) to live, my partner for 25 years or so who would never have gone full time died and 5 years of getting rid of stuff resulted in a small enough pile to fit in an RV.
At that time I commenced research on the subject in earnest. I had some idea what it really took to live in a vehicle. I had seen house trucks and Gypsy wagons, had spent a lot of time in the old VW camper van we moved from Florida to British Columbia in and lived in my pickup a couple of times. I went to the internet and found out more about house trucks, camper vans, gypsies, containers, trailers, etc, etc. I also found the Escapees RV Club.
When I found the Escapees I knew at once that this was a club I wanted to join. Everything about their attitude and style seemed right. Founded in 1978 "to help people enjoy full-time RVing" with a goal of a couple hundred members, this club has seen over one hundred thousand members in 30 years. I am member 99048, graduating class of 2007. SKPs refer to each other as graduating class of the year they went full-time.
The Escapees have internal groups based on locations and interests. The groups based on locations are refereed to as chapters and the groupings by interest are called BOFs for Birds Of a Feather. When I arrived at Quartzsite, I followed directions to the Non-Certified Boondockers BOF and signs to the first certified BOF, the SOLOs. There are other singles groups nearby like the LOWs (Loners On Wheels) and WINs (Wandering Individuals' Network) that are not SKP groups though many are also members of these. I sat by the fire with Chapter 34, Pacific Northwest nieghbors along the Columbia River. I would be from Chapter 5, Evergreen, for northwest Washington State.
The Escapees Club has 8 Rainbow parks, 11 Co-Op parks and arrangements with over a thousand commercial parks to offer discounts to SKPs. Rainbow parks are open to the public and Co-Op parks are for members only. They have a travel guide that lists thousands of parks, an award winning magazine, and extensive website and an invaluable online forum. I have stayed at three of the Co-Op parks so far. Sutherland, Or., Coursegold, Ca, and Kofa Co-Op in Yuma, Az.
The Escapees RV Club is also an official USPS Mail Forwarding Service and provides direction and assistance with gaining a Texan domicile which can be useful for taxes, licenses and voting for someone with no fixed place of residence. It can also be confusing for the RV park check in person who sees three rigs show up with the same Rainbow Drive, Texas address.
Whenever I go to a park, stop in a rest area with other RVs, see Boondockers at Walmart or line up next to a rig at the gas station, I look for an SKP sticker. I have one front, rear and on my entry door's window. If you see one of them, come get a big SKP hug.
"Travel is more than the seeing of sights; it is a change that goes on, deep and permanent, in the ideas of living." –- Miriam Beard
Just pulled into Quartzsite, or "Q" as the inveterate RVers say. Dumped and filled tanks at Miller Park in Blythe, bought some groceries at the Albersons and filled up fuel and propane at the Flying J in Ehrenberg. Paid more for fuel at the Flying J than I would have in Quartzsite because fuel is cheaper in Arizona. I'm still learning.
When I set out on this adventure, Quartzsite was as far ahead as I was thinking and here I am. It has been just over four months and I have learned and discovered a few things. I'm not sold on RV parks just yet. Maybe in a few years but right now I feel like the month I spent in the Thousand Trails parks, as plesant an experience as it was, passed much too quickly. The four days I spent above Joshua Tree just me and the birds walking, writing, working on the rig and thinking will stick with me. And parking right in Portland and walking around Martin Luther King Junior Way, shopping for vintage clothes, drinking coffee, looking at fresh art and watching the kids; that was a good time. I may not go back to Slab City next year. Not for long anyway. Just to say hi, see who is still there. I am more interested in checking in on the restoration of theNorth Shore Yacht club.
Maybe I've been in the wrong parks. I have always had a good time but the time goes to quickly and I'm always the youngest guy there. Again, maybe in a few years hanging out with a bunch of retired people may be just what I want to do. Right now I want to explore a canyon, or a city, or fly my birds and work on my rig.
Tomorrow I explore Quartzsite. Sometime this week I think I'll go back to Blythe and buy a sheet of plywood and come back out here and rebuild the front of my rig and remodel the bird "room." And do my rear brakes. Now that's exciting!
"If everyone demanded peace instead of another television set, then there'd be peace."
John Lennon
