Yesterday afternoon:
Thursday, April 25, 2024
Tuesday, April 23, 2024
Monday, April 22, 2024
Not my original plan
The goal for today had been to camp in the forested mountains on the south side of Prescott, Arizona. It would be a change from the last several months in the Sonoran Desert. Cooler at about 6,000 feet. Shadier with big trees. Yes, gimme some of that.
I had researched potential camping spots. I learned camping in that National Forest is in designated dispersed campsites only. That severely limits the number of spots. But since it was no longer the weekend my odds of snagging a vacant campsite were better.
After doing my laundry and stocking up on supplies I headed into the hills. It didn’t take long to discover nearly every designated campsite was occupied. The two vacant ones were awful. Also, instead of being one of those lush forests with a bed of pine needles over rich soil, this forest was dry, dusty, stony and brittle. Even the most inviting campsites looked harsh. So, what to do instead?
A friend has invited people to her campsite near Flagstaff. She’s one of my favorite people but the freezing nights there (still) are not my favorite conditions. I can bundle up and turn on the stove. If it get’s too unpleasant I can give my regrets and move on.
So I headed north from Prescott and found a bit of National Forest along the way. Forest that wasn’t pretending to be a picture book forest. A forest that wasn’t filled with other campers. Just me and an occasional train in the distance.Sunday, April 21, 2024
Unpleasant visitor
Mr. Paranoia stopped by the Rolling Steel Tent this afternoon. He wanted to know why I was here, what I was doing, and who was paying me to do it. He pointed to my cellular antenna and claimed I was monitoring him and/or jamming his signals. He went on and on about being a law-abiding guy with never so much as a traffic ticket. So why were they after him? And again, why was I here, of all places, near him. He wasn’t buying my story. He took my picture. I couldn’t tell if there was tin foil beneath his ball cap. But I think I heard a few loose screws rattling in there as he rode away on his minibike.
UPDATE: I had already planned on leaving tomorrow, but I decided it was wiser to move along today. Irrational people are capable of doing irrational things.
Screw it
Things shift around in moving vehicles This is particularly true when driving lumpy roads that have you pitching this way and that.
Such was the case of my silverware divider. It wasn’t a serious problem since the divider is contained within a drawer that is held closed with a bungee cord. Nothing was going to go flying around the Rolling Steel Tent. But it meant I had to put things back into position even if I had made an ordinary left turn.
It was only a minor annoyance, so it was way down on my list of priorities. But I was finally annoyed enough yesterday to take care of it, and a simple solution had popped into my head: screw the divider to the drawer bottom.
I rummaged through my collection of fasteners and found a bolt and matching nut just the right size. The only hard part was digging the drill out of its place under the thing that’s behind the other thing in a cramped space. The actual drilling and bolting took only a few seconds. I love simple fixes.
Saturday, April 20, 2024
Pretty but mean
Friday, April 19, 2024
Excellent second-hand recommendation
I’ve never met Tristan of the SUV RVing channel, but after watching a bunch of his videos I feel like we’re friends. Or could be. Nice guy.
Tristan also has a pay site with info about his adventures, including an interactive map featuring the places he boondocked. He prefers to get away from it all. So I checked to see if he offered anything between Alamo Lake and, say, Prescott AZ. He did—a location he was told about by a local fellow. That means I was taking the recommendation of a guy who took the recommendation of a guy.
I was concerned when I studied the map. Although Tristan said it was BLM land, I knew at least part of the area off the highway was Arizona State Trust land. I had camped there twice before and was chased away by the sheriff the second time because I didn’t have a permit. I bought the permit this year but hadn’t gotten around to printing it out. I decided to give it a try anyway. Tristan’s spot could be beyond the state land.
The dirt road was rutted and lumpy, pitching the Rolling Steel Tent left and right. It was slow going, with lots of little washouts crossing this way and that. Like speed bumps and dips all the way. Three miles felt like twenty. I kept telling myself, “At least there won’t be a lot of big RVs down this way.” But I saw the reassuring BLM road number posts. Okay. No hassles from authorities.
When I finally got to the site, hell yeah, it was worth the drive!
The white dot in the distance is the Rolling Steel Tent
Wednesday, April 17, 2024
Tuesday, April 16, 2024
Not on the way to anywhere
I spent the night in nearly deserted Quartzsite after picking up my package and mail. But where to go next? I studied maps, forecasts, boondocking resources, blogs and all that. I had only one for-certain destination: Vancouver Island in July to take Lou’s ashes out to sea. There are a lot of ways to get there in the next two and a half months. Some of the ways are, eh, way too familiar, even boring. Are there routes that are new to me, or that I haven’t taken in many years? Where the nights aren’t still freezing or where the unpaved areas aren’t mud? I continued my research.
I haven’t been in southeastern Utah in a while, and there’s still so much of it I haven’t seen. And the weather there is now in that zone between too cold and too hot. So I’ll be drifting northeast before heading to the Northwest.
What’s on the way besides Sedona, Flagstaff and Grand Canyon? How about the mountains south of Prescott? Yeah. I drove through there once but didn’t camp. And what about the mountains between Prescott and Sedona? Okay.
But what’s between here and there? I used to think nothing of driving eight to ten hours a day, and I think I could still do it if I had a short schedule to keep. But I’ve come to enjoy a slower pace. Shorter drives, longer stays.
Then I saw something on the map that had been on my mental list: Alamo Lake. It’s not really “on the way.” It’s in the middle of a Quartzsite-Wickenburg-Kingman triangle with access via one 30-mile paved road from US-60. So it’s a considerable detour, not a convenient waypoint. There’s a dirt road from the Lake to Wickenburg, but it could be a washboard hell. So I’ll be taking the paved road back.
And it’s a nice road through totally unpopulated, undeveloped land. A section goes through some saguaro-studded hills. The pavement is good, the scenery was nice, it was perfect open window weather, and this particular Tuesday morning I wasn’t another soul around. Aaaaaaahhh…
Alamo Lake is a state park, but there’s BLM land adjacent. There are a few dozen other campers here, most in fifth-wheel trailers. But I found a spot a comfortable distance from the others. And except for a couple of OHVs driving sedately by, and a dog that barked for a few seconds, it has been very quiet. If I had a smaller vehicle with 4-wheel drive I could access tiny campsites down by the water. I can walk down there instead.
A friend I call The Other Alan once wrote a blog post about how he avoids camping by water, because that’s where the bugs are. There was a healthy enough breeze today to keep the flies and such grounded. So I had the doors and windows open. Very refreshing in the Rolling Steel Tent. However, the air got still after sunset and swarms of tiny things were attracted to the formerly nonfunctional light. Can’t have everything perfect.
I see the light
Last week I was in bed reading when the recessed LED light over the counter blinked off. Rats.
My first assumption was the light had reached the end of its life. Since the lights came in a four-pack and I had used only three, I should have a spare — unless it was one of the things I purged during my last reworking of the Rolling Steel Tent. After searching all my boxes, yep, I no longer had it. So I spent twenty bucks on another four-pack from Amazon. If one light had died then the remaining two were likely to go sometime.
While awaiting that delivery I discovered the roof vent fan also didn’t work. It’s tied into the same line as the light. Ah-ha! Maybe it’s a fuse. I started with the one built into the vent. It was still good. I checked all the fuses in my junction box. All of them, because I hadn’t labeled the circuits. They were good.
Maybe it was something in the wiring. That would be a pain to check since most of it is behind paneling. Ergh. I procrastinated until today, because the new lights had arrived.
I was about to dig out my multimeter and tools when, out of habit, I flicked the light switch. And it came on! Oh, okay. Won’t be needing the new light at this time. The fan worked too. And then they both went off.Hmmmm…
Why did this happen? What was different? What had I done?
Ah-ha, maybe…
Earlier I had fished out a section of the wiring in preparation for testing it. And I had jiggled the connection. I giggled the wire again and the light and fan came back on. As the old farts around the shop say, “Well there’s yer problem.”
Saturday, April 6, 2024
Monday, April 1, 2024
Perfect procrastination
Wednesday, March 20, 2024
They ask me why / why I’m a hairy guy
The original plan had been to let my hair grow until my birthday. But even though that’s only three weeks away, I couldn’t stand it any longer (in time or length of hair). So I decided the vernal equinox was an appropriate end date. It has sort of been my winter hair. Now back to the low-maintenance Daylight Saving Time look.
Sunday, March 17, 2024
Another desert spring day
Several of my friends and family (some of them just a few hours’ drive away) are shoveling snow and slush. They have my condolences.
Saturday, March 16, 2024
What is it?
Friday, March 15, 2024
What’s that sound?
I woke up at about 2:45 to pee. When I got back in bed I heard a faint and irregular pit… tik……pit it……tak… pit…
What was it? Where was it? Should I worry? A mouse nibbling on a bit of plastic perhaps? I sniffed. No mouse odor.
I held still, listening. It seemed to be at the back, by the floor. I turned on a light, moved some things around and… I saw nothing.
Then the sound stopped. Then it started again. What was it?!?!
I spent about fifteen minutes trying to find the source of the sound. Then it was more rapid and louder.
Oh. It was rain. That’s cool.
Thursday, March 14, 2024
Trapped by an invisible force
Who has seen the wind?
Neither you nor I
But when semis tip over on I-10
The wind is blowing like a mother…
My friend LaVonne is in Palm Springs before heading off on a cross-country trek. She flew in from Washington state last night to pick up a van from other friends. I hadn’t seen LaVonne in a few years and wanted to say hi/bye.
So yesterday I drove from Quartzsite (where I had been taking care of some business) to the camping area at the south entrance to Joshua Tree. Hey, wasn’t I here just last week?
During the night the wind started blowing. Hard. Probably the hardest I’ve experienced in the Rolling Steel Tent. It got so bad I had to get up at about 2:45 AM to face the van more into the wind. Even then it was a bouncy ride all night.
You can see I-10 from the campsite. The lights of vehicles passed both directions during the night. “Okay,” I thought, “It’s still not too windy to drive. At least not for the pros and the foolish.”
But when daylight came and I finally dragged my sleep-deprived self out of bed I saw traffic was now totally stopped. Semis lined up as far as I could see in the eastbound lanes, no vehicles passing in the westbound lanes. And the wind was still howling. I checked Google Maps and it showed the dreaded red line stretching about 5 miles in each direction from Chiriaco Summit. And patches of yellow all the way to Desert Center in the east and Indio in the west.
So I notified LaVonne I’m staying put at least for a few hours.
I suppose, if I really wanted to, I could take the longer route through the park to Highway 62 and down Morongo Valley to Palm Springs. Or through Box Canyon to Mecca then north to Indio and onward to Palm Springs without getting on the freeway. I’ll see how conditions change. The wind has lessened a wee bit in the past hour, so the original plan might be on once the backed up traffic clears.
Yay life on the road! Yay desert!
UPDATE: News reports said one semi was blocking all eastbound lanes, and a second rig was partially blocking one of the westbound lanes. Driver injuries were minor. While returning to Quartzsite to pick up a package at my mail forwarder I passed the scene where crews were still working on the trailer that had been blocking westbound traffic. Eastbound was totally clear.
Tuesday, March 12, 2024
Saturday, March 9, 2024
Wednesday, March 6, 2024
Crossing time zones: actual and virtual
About, oh, nine years ago I was camped in Ehrenburg AZ with a group of fellow wanderers. We were putting together a pot luck Thanksgiving dinner and I had volunteered to supply mashed potatoes. I had everything planned out — except for one thing. My phone was my only clock and I wasn’t aware it was picking up its cell signal from across the Colorado river, in California, in the Pacific Time Zone. So I was an hour late with the spuds.
Since I would making the Arizona-to-California crossing again this week, I wanted to learn exactly where my Verizon phone would recognize my change of time zone. I kept checking the phone, checking the phone, checking the phone, and… Blip. It changed near the Arizona port of entry weigh station, which is about three miles from the state line. At least that was the result at that time, under those atmospheric conditions.
My turn
My nomad friend Roxy went to Joshua Tree National park a few weeks ago when it was still cold. She has greater tolerance of low temperatures, maybe even an affinity for it.
My former coworker friend Jon, and his wife Katherine, made a pilgrimage to Joshua Tree and surrounding areas last month in honor of one of his favorite musicians, Gram Parsons. It will be their last visit for a while since they’re moving from Southern California to Tennessee to be near a grandchild. They stayed in the hotel Parsons frequented, so freezing nights were not an issue.
And my friend Melinda and her sister (whom I have never met) also spent time in Joshua Tree last month, also staying in a warm hotel like normal civilized people.
I go to Joshua Tree at least once a year, so it was on my list. And I had been itching to wander out of Yuma, where I spend most of the winter because it’s not cold.
I had been watching the forecasts for Joshua Tree, and nope. Until this week. While it was still freezing at night in the park, which is at 6,000 feet, it would be merely comfortably cool at the lower elevations outside the park’s boundaries. So off I went.
Monday, March 4, 2024
No hum
Tonight I’m camped at a popular spot by the south entrance to Joshua Tree National Park. There are more than a dozen rigs here, most of them RVs. We’re closer together than I prefer, but that’s what the area is like. Hey, it’s free, it’s convenient, so…
However, one thing has surprised me: no generator noise. If anyone is using them they must be well muffled. Or my hearing has gotten very bad. Either way, it’s nice and quiet.
Saturday, March 2, 2024
Saturday morning at the butcher and car show
Food City was out of pollo asado so I went to another latino-focused grocery, Del Sol. Both have excellent butcher departments. I could see into the back where seven butchers were breaking down bigger cuts for packaging. In front of them was a display of seasoned meats where along with chorizos, chicharrónes, and carnitas was plenty of pollo asado.
There were a couple of men ahead of me in line. One had ordered a stack of steaks about a foot high. Big barbecue this weekend, I suppose. He left with his mountain of meat, but shortly after the butcher who had been helping him hefted another pile of steaks onto the counter. The butcher looked around, obviously wondering where the customer had gone.
Meanwhile, another butcher filled my pollo asado order. The missing meat customer was at the self-checkout when I got there.
“Hey, I think you left the rest of your meat order,” I said.
“Nah, I got it all. Just 15 pounds.”
“Okay. Have a good day then.”
I left wondering if the guy would be back after getting home and counting his steaks.
Out in the parking lot, a man was getting out of a Nissan Rogue in a glorious metallic burnt orange color, the morning sun making it glow. Such a refreshing break from the mass of white, silver and black vehicles. Nissan calls the color Sunset Drift ChromaFlair®.
I said, “I really like the color of your car.”
He nodded his thanks but didn’t seem as enthused about the color. Or he thought I was a weirdo who should be avoided. But a dude farther along heartily agreed with my positive assessment of his lowered step-side GMC pickup. He might have talked about it all morning if it hadn’t been for his esposa pulling him to the store. Maybe they also needed a pile of meat.
So, as a very late lunch/early dinner I cooked up some of the pollo and made a burrito. It was perfect. It made me as happy as the orange car.
Friday, March 1, 2024
Version update
The 013 version of the Rolling Steel Tent has served well, but the latest system upgrades — engine, transmission, solar capacity, interior fittings — call for a new version designation.
Thursday, February 29, 2024
Lost and found and found
Three things went missing the past few months. My passport, the van registration, and a fork.
Whenever this happens I’m still amazed how things can disappear in such a small space. There are only so many places a thing can be in the Rolling Steel Tent. That gets me wondering if the errant objects left the van somehow.
Also, as always, I find things when I’m not looking for them. After all, checking the most likely places is pointless when something is obviously in an unlikely place.
I found the fork while rotating my mattress head-to-toe (something I do about twice a year). The fork was wedged at the junction of the mattress, the bed platform, and the cabinet from which it had slid at some point.
Wednesday, February 28, 2024
How will new National Monuments in the desert affect boondocking?
The Kw’tsán National Monument will provide permanent protection for our homelands, cultural objects, and sacred places that are increasingly threatened by mining exploration, natural resource extraction, harmful development, unregulated recreational use, management inadequacies, and climate change.