Snowbirding 2021: Drone Footage of Our Backwaters Camp

A look at our camp from the air.

I took out my Mavic Pro a few days ago and shot some footage of our winter camp.

I actually shot this on two different days. The first day, I took it up to get a few shots of my friend Janet, who was fishing from her boat down the backwater channel we’re camped on. I then shot a video overflight ending at our camp.

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I shot the second half the next day. I wanted to circle the camp from the air, but I wanted it set up as we usually have it. The first day, my truck was parked inside the living area because we’d offload groceries and water jugs. In the second half of the video, my truck is parked where it belongs, on the other side of the boat ramp.

The light was definitely better the first day I shot. I should have just moved the damn truck and kept shooting. My bad.

Anyway, here’s the video; I posted it on the FlyingMAir YouTube channel. Read the video description to learn more about my music choice.

Drone Footage from Winter Camp

A video from the Flying M Air YouTube channel.

An aerial view of where I’m camped right now: off the grid in southwest Arizona and relying on solar panels for Power, a 2 year old MacBook Pro for video editing, and my Verizon “4G” (LOL) connection for Internet access.

I’m camped here for a while with my friend Janet and our dogs. Camp includes our art workspaces: she paints and I make jewelry. I’m living in the truck camper with the awning out and she’s living in the shorter travel trailer. We have inflatable boats in the water. I described life in camp in this blog post, if you’re interested: https://aneclecticmind.com/2020/12/19/snowbirding-2021-life-at-the-backwaters-camp/

The footage was shot with an original DJI Mavic Pro. This drone works great for me and I haven’t needed an upgrade. (Thank heaven; these damn things cost a fortune.) I piloted the first half and used the POI feature for the second half, which I also sped up by 150%.

The music is from YouTube’s free music for Creators, “Auld Lang Syne (Instrumental)” by Jingle Punks. I liked this piece because it’s traditional holiday fare for the end of the year. This version seems (to me) as if it hits a few bad notes along the way, which is perfect for the end of a really crappy year for so many of us.

I’m uploading this as I type on a connection that’s less than 1 Mbps and it’s taking forever. This also explains why I haven’t uploaded anything better for a while. My current computer setup is a MacBook Pro that can’t run DaVinci Resolve (my preferred video editing app) so I’m stuck with Screenflow, which has limited capabilities. I am able to create 1080 video, however, so that’s what I made. 50 MB for just over 2 minutes of video takes a very long time to upload at these dismal access speeds. (Total was about 30 minutes, actually, which wasn’t CRAZY bad. I just kept wondering if I’d lose the connection in the middle somewhere. I didn’t.)

I hope everyone has a great holiday. Wear a mask, stay healthy, get vaccinated as soon as you can. Be nice to others. Don’t hate. 2021 is going to be a GREAT year — if we make it that way!

Snowbirding 2021: Life at the Backwaters Camp

We settle into a routine that includes activity, work, and rest.

I set up my own camp at our campsite with my camper on one side of the boat ramp and my utility trailer on the other. I was expecting my friend Janet to join me and I thought it was a good idea to leave room for her in the “living” side of the campsite by putting my utility trailer on the “working” side of the campsite.

About the Campsite

One of the nice things about the campsite — other than the fact it has easy access to a mile-long strip of backwaters channel — is that it’s mostly level. That makes it easy to park RVs without having to deal with a lot of leveling blocks. My truck camper, of course, has its four motorized legs that can be used to fine-tune leveling. But I need a relatively level place to begin with so I can safely raise the camper off my truck and drive the truck away.

The campsite is off the main road and surrounded by a lot of desert vegetation — mostly salt cedar, mesquite, and a type of shrub I’d always known as arrow wood (but Google doesn’t agree). This vegetation, although not very attractive, does give the campsite some privacy and filter away the dust that can come off the road when the four-wheelers are out in force. None of the trees are tall enough to cause an issue for a well-placed solar panel — especially if it’s on a camper’s roof (as mine are). I suspect that the site would be miserably hot in the summer months, but in the winter, all that sun is usually quite welcome.

The site is actually split into two logical halves with the boat ramp between them. One side is larger and could easily fit four good-sized campers without any of them parking in the deeper sand beyond. The other side is considerably smaller but features a few clearings in the vegetation where tents could be set up with a degree of privacy.

The ground (other than the gravel boat ramp) is mostly a sandy dusty dirt mixed with decades of campfire ash. It is not the kind of place you leave things on the ground if you expect them to stay clean. But dust is a part of life when camping out in the desert and I knew exactly what to expect when I chose the site.

I parked at the edge of the larger camping area, right beside where the land sloped down sharply to the boat ramp. I backed in (of course) so my back and main side window faced east, out over the backwaters. From my dining table window, I can watch the sun rise every morning and see glimpses of water birds like egrets and herons. I like a campsite with a view and this suits me just fine.

Setting up camp wasn’t difficult and I had it mostly done by the end of the day when I arrived. Other than removing my camper from my truck, I did a few extra things that I usually do if I’m going to be in a spot for more than a few days:

  • I set up a pair of portable sawhorses, each good for 1600 pounds of weight, under the body of my camper. This takes some of the weight off the legs and gives it a more solid feeling. It’s a little step that isn’t required, but will help keep the camper in good condition as it continues to age. (It’s a 2007 model and in great shape; I plan to keep it that way.)
  • I attached a vinyl “skirt” around the front end of the camper. This creates a little sheltered storage room where I can secure things I want to protect from the weather or keep out of sight. My bicycle, for example, is under there. So is my 2KW Honda generator, which is locked to one of the camper legs. I had the skirt custom made a few years ago and although I don’t use it often, it comes in very handy when I do use it.
  • I set up a table with my BBQ grill. I use a little propane fueled portable grill. I like to grill meats (and sometimes vegetables) and having the grill set up and ready to go right by my door makes it convenient.
  • I deployed my rear awning. My camper actually has two awnings, but I rarely use the one on the side. Instead, I put out the back one, mostly because it was so darn hot when I arrived in mid November. The sun would come up and shine into the back of my camper, making it unpleasantly hot within minutes. The awning kept it cooler. Even when temperatures dropped, however, I left the awning out with its various wind toys attached. With a mat nailed down to the ground beneath it, it gave me the illusion of an outdoor room, tripling the size of my living space. I staked it down securely so that even though it flopped around a bit when it got windy, it stayed secure.
  • Meade 8
    Here’s my telescope, set up in camp. I have a cover to protect it during the day and have been able to keep it dust-free. I haven’t used it nearly as much as I wanted to, mostly because I was having trouble getting it to align before I swapped out the batteries.

    I set up my 8″ Meade LX200GPS telescope. I bought the telescope last year and used it at a few campsites late in the season. The area where I was camped had amazing dark skies and with a big conjunction between Jupiter and Saturn coming up in December, I was eager to use it. The telescope, which lives in a Pelican-style hard-sided rolling case, is no fun to haul around, but once it was set up, I could cover it with a reflective cover to protect it from dust, sun, and wind.

  • I unpacked and inflated my Hobie kayak. I’d bought this two — or is it three? — years before in Lake Havasu City on my way south as a Christmas present to myself. Although it can be paddled like any sit-atop kayak, it has a pedal drive that makes it a real pleasure to pilot around the backwater channels — as long as the water is at least a foot deep.

    Paddling
    Here I am with my pups on a recent pedal/paddle/float down the Colorado River.

Camper Setup
Here’s my truck camper, set up for a long stay at camp. I put up my wind toys, deployed my rear awning, and even put on the custom skirt to create a sheltered “garage” under the front end of the camper. While the camper’s legs hold the bulk of its 3200 pounds, I also set up portable sawhorses underneath to take some of the weight off the legs and make the rig more solid on the ground.

My friend Janet arrived four days later. She came with her truck, “Blue,” pulling her 20-foot travel trailer, “Joey.” (For the record, although my truck doesn’t have a name, my camper and utility trailer do: T2 and Daisy (formerly Lily; long story) respectively.) She backed Joey into a spot against a tree with its door facing my camper and the fire pit. Later, her significant other, Steve, arrived with her studio/workshop trailer, “the Vega,” and parked it nearby so she could share her generator between the two of them.

The Routine

Our lives at camp quickly settled into a routine.

We start the day in our own campers with coffee (me) or tea (Janet) and maybe a small breakfast. I wake up at all times, from as early as 4 AM to as late as 7 AM. I let my pups out (supervised) for their early morning numbers (1 and 2) and give them breakfast. I drink my coffee, catch up on Twitter, update my Etsy site, or wade through incoming email. I use my iPad, which seems to get the best connection here when it’s placed on my pillow on my bed, as a wifi hotspot.

Maria and Dogs
One of my Twitter friends wanted a picture of the dogs at camp. The only way I could get a shot of them all was to grab mine while Janet’s stood nearby. This is one morning after our walk.

When the sun comes up, we’d go for a brisk walk in the desert. When we got here, we’d go as early as 7:30, but as it gets colder and colder and the sun rises later and later, we now go as late as 9 AM. We have four different walks. Three of them are about 2 1/2 miles long while the fourth is about 3 1/2 miles long. I admit that I shy away from that long walk early in the morning because a good portion of it is in the shade of a hillside and it’s really cold. And the walk that’s a loop around our backwater channel is especially tiresome because a good portion of it is in sand.

After the walk, we do our own thing most days. I usually do my dishes and/or shower. I like to run my water pump in the morning so the onboard batteries have the whole day to recover power from the 200 watts of solar on the roof. I really don’t like running my generator; I hate the noise. Although I’ll run my pump at any time of the day or night, dishes and showers run it long enough to take a toll on the batteries and mine are starting to show their age. (I actually had them replaced yesterday after writing the first draft of this post.)

I might also have a real breakfast of something cooked. I usually make the same thing I make at home: veggies cooked with some sort of breakfast meat and topped with an egg. I’m still trying to use up the potatoes and onions from my garden that I brought with me.

Then I go to work in my utility trailer. (More on that in a moment.) I generally work most of the day, with breaks whenever Rosie, the more vocal of my two pups, decides there’s something she needs to bark at. I leave the girls loose during the day, but with predators like coyotes around (mostly early and late in the day, as well as overnight), I try hard to keep tabs on them. Rosie likes to bark at imagined threats so I get lots of stand time during the day. (Apple Watch owners should know what I’m talking about.)

By around 4 PM, Janet and I are both finishing up for the day. One of us will set up paper trash and kindling in the fire pit. One or both of us will cook all or part of a shared dinner. We’ll light the fire and feed it wood we’ve gathered or brought along. My pups will go into the camper — they don’t seem to like being outside after dusk and that’s fine with me.

We’ll eat dinner by the fire. We’ll chat.

Thanksgiving Dinner
We eat well here. This was Thanksgiving dinner on my plate. Janet made almost everything you see; I made the stuffing, which I really love to make (and eat). We’ve had grilled NY strip steak, salmon (that I caught over the summer), and bacon-wrapped scallops, as well as chicken enchiladas, chicken and vegetable masala, tacos, and all kinds of homemade food. Janet even made a loaf of challah bread from scratch yesterday, which was a bit of a challenge to bake in her tiny oven.

Jupiter with Moons
I took this photo of Jupiter and its four largest moons by holding my iPhone’s lens against the eyepiece of my telescope one night.

We’ll watch the stars come out, marvel on how close Saturn is getting to Jupiter, and count satellites that pass overhead. A few times, I fired up the telescope for a closer look at Jupiter, Saturn, the moon, mars, and a few other points of interest in the sky. The Milky Way’s glow was nearly always bright above us.

Then, when the fire turns to a bed of coals, we’ll call it a night. Janet will retreat into her camper with her big dog Dually. I’ll bring my pups out for a pee and then go back inside for the night.

Depending on what time it is, I’ll do some work on my laptop or read or just straighten up my rig. Eventually, I’ll climb up into bed to read, watch videos on my iPad, or do a crossword puzzle. Then I’ll sleep.

The next day is pretty much the same.

Occasionally, we’ll break routine for a morning of chores or goofing off or weather that makes us want to stay indoors. But those days are few and far between.

Chores

Of course, we eventually have to do chores like laundry, grocery shopping, fetching water or propane, or visiting the post office. Because the road to get to camp is so long and bumpy, I try not to leave camp more than once or twice a week.

We do grocery shopping once a week in Blythe, CA where there’s a Smart and Final and an Albertsons. Although last year we favored Smart and Final, which tends to be cheaper, it soon became apparent that they often lacked the things we needed, requiring us to hit Albertsons as well. So this year we’re mostly just going to Albertsons.

We do laundry every other week, also in Blythe, and coordinate it with a trip to the Ace hardware store and Albertsons. It works like this: go to the laundromat and put our laundry into washers. That gives us 24 minutes to drive to Ace, shop, and get back. Move all the laundry into dryers and feed the dryers enough coins to dry to 40 to 50 minutes. Then go to Albertsons and shop. Go back to the laundromat, arriving just in time for the dryers to be done. Fold laundry, put it into the truck and head back to camp. We did this two days ago again and it worked like a charm.

Sometimes, on those trips to Blythe, we’ll bring an empty propane tank or two. My rig takes 5 gallon tanks and has two of them. I’m going through about one tank a week to run my refrigerator, heat water, fuel my stove, and run my heater, which I definitely need for at least part of the night.

We get water at the “Resort Store” in Ehrenberg, which is near the end of the gravel road between pavement and camp. For $2 we can fill as many water jugs as we have. I have four; Janet has at least four. We both have battery powered transfer pumps to lift the water from the 6 1/2-gallon jugs to our campers’ water tank fill ports. 26 gallons of water can last me about a week if I try hard to conserve. I don’t drink that water; it’s solely for washing. I buy bottled spring water by the gallon when shop for groceries and use that for drinking and cooking.

The Resort Store is also where we take our trash. There’s a big dumpster there. We weed out the aluminum cans and plastic bottles that can get cash refunds in California, which is only a mile away, and leave them in a box or bag beside the dumpster so folks who scavenge for cans don’t need to dumpster dive for ours. There is no recycle bin, but we burn most of our paper and cardboard waste when we start our evening campfire.

The Resort Store isn’t far from the post office where I rent a box every year. This enables me to get USPS, UPS, and FedEx packages. Whenever we get water, we visit the post office, too.

Occasionally, we’ll go into Quartzsite, AZ, which is about 30 miles east. I’ve written extensively about Quartzsite in this blog so I won’t go into detail here. It’s pretty dead in November and early December; it should start getting busy around Christmas time. If we go to Q (as we call it), we’ll get propane there; it’s a lot cheaper than in California. I also got a new battery and inverter setup for my utility trailer in Q; I’ll blog about that elsewhere.

Quartzsite is also where we dump our blackwater tanks, which is a chore I did just yesterday. Through various means of conservation, I can go a whole month between blackwater dumps — and no, it doesn’t smell.

Struck Truck
That back wheel was so dug in that the truck was sitting on the sand on its rear transfer case. I could turn the wheel by hand! Jacking up the truck and putting leveling blocks under that wheel was instrumental in getting it out.

We also occasionally go out into the desert to collect firewood. There are a lot of dead salt cedar and mesquite trees and Janet has a little battery-powered chainsaw that can cut through medium sized branches to make little logs. One day we used my truck to haul the wood out and I managed to get it stuck deep in the sand. After being told by a tow company that they needed a Jeep with a winch to get me out — at a cost of $500 — Steve and I managed to get it out with some jacking, digging, and a tug with a tow strap. Locking the hubs on the truck’s 4WD in 4-Low helped, too. (Duh.) Less than a week later, I used my truck to pull a Sprinter van out of another sandy spot nearby.

Getting Work Done

Janet is an artist who paints on feathers. (Her work is amazing; check out her Etsy shop and her website.) I’m a part-time jewelry artist. (My work is pretty good, too. Check it out in my Etsy shop and on my website.) Both of us planned to get work done while at camp. That’s why I’d set up my utility trailer with a jewelry shop and she brought along her studio trailer.

Our studios contain at least 90% of the materials and equipment we need to create. It’s just a matter of “unstowing” everything and setting up to work. Her studio is a converted travel trailer and has quite a bit of space. My utility trailer is small and relatively cramped, so part of my setup include erecting my show tent and setting up a table inside it do do soldering work. (I have a 6-minute video tour of my setup, but with the dismal connectivity I have out here in the desert, it would likely take all day to upload it.)

Janet and I mostly sell our work at art shows, although I also have relationships with a few galleries and we also both sell on Etsy. Unfortunately, COVID-19 has pretty much shut down the show circuit. The last show we did together was at White Tanks Regional Park in the Phoenix area at the end of last February; we were all set to do the Borrego Springs show in mid-March when they canceled it the day before setup. (We had already made the long drive there and weren’t happy about the last minute cancellation. I was especially unhappy because I was ready to go home at the end of February and that last show was the only thing keeping me in the area.) I did a few shows in Leavenworth, WA in July, September, and October. Janet did one in Fountain Hills, AZ in November, just before joining me in camp. Because her summer had been filled with other work (and play), she was low on some inventory. And because I’d shipped out a bunch of jewelry pieces to galleries in November, I was very low on inventory. We both needed to work.

And we do. I’d say we spend at least four hours a day at least five days a week in our shops getting new items made and ready to sell. I’ve started posting each week’s production on my jewelry website, with links back to my Etsy shop.

We also process incoming orders from Etsy. We each have printers to print labels and packing materials to package up and ship our products. I actually fill orders more quickly from here than I do from home. Go figure.

Playing

We also make time to play.

Because we have easy access to the backwater channel, we often go for a pedal/paddle (me) or row (Janet) in our boats. Janet, who likes to fish, will sometimes throw in a line. The other day, we took our boats and cameras up to the channel we camped on last year and pedaled/paddled/rowed there. I got some nice shots of egrets, herons, ospreys, and vultures. We even watched an osprey dive down into the water and take off with a fish.

Egret
I had my Nikon and 300mm lens with me on my most recent pedal/paddle and got a few nice shots of birds, like this egret.

One day when neither of us felt like working, we took a drive down the gravel road that goes past our camp all the way down to the Cibola Wildlife Refuge, which I’d visited a few years before. It’s where sandhill cranes spend the winter and there were certainly enough of them there. We also explored other possible camping areas, like a BLM campground on the California side that might be nice for a day or two.

We also goof off in Q. We took the bicycles in one day and rode around the town after picking up a few odds and ends from vendors that were set up early. Around Christmas time, Janet will be moving to Q for about a month to do a show there; I’m skipping it this year but may move out to the desert nearby for a few days during the height of the season there.

Side Trips

I did make time to visit some friends and go flying in the Mesa area near Phoenix earlier this month.

My friends own a flight school and offered me a reasonable deal on renting their R44. I was eager to get some video footage for the FlyingMAir YouTube channel. I did two flights over two days and spent two nights in my friends’ very comfortable guest room.

I’ll go back again later in the season, when I’m done camping in this area and begin a more nomadic phase of my winter travels. It’s a long drive from here to Mesa — nearly 3 hours. I did (finally) visit a Trader Joe’s on my way back. I also picked up a few things I needed to better secure items in my utility trailer when I’m in transit.

A Month Already!

That basically sums up the first month of my snowbirding activities for the 2020/2021 season.

Although Janet will likely leave in about a week, I’ll remain here for a while longer. I’ll probably walk less and work more, with fewer campfires and more writing. Maybe I’ll even get around to editing some of the video I captured on my two flights earlier this month.

I’m hoping that someone we met earlier this month will return from his holiday travels and share the camp with me for a few days. We need to talk boats. ‘Nuff said.

I’ll try to upload “Postcards” as I did last year. No promises. I’m keeping pretty busy — maybe too busy to blog? — and like it!

Snowbirding 2021: The Drive South

A longer than usual drive made tolerable by recorded books.

As usual, I went south for the winter this year. And as of this week, I’ve already been away from home for a full month. I thought I’d write a few blog posts to catch you up on this year’s trip, starting with the drive south.

My Departure: Early on the Calendar, Late on the Clock

I left earlier than usual this year: Sunday, November 15. Earlier in the month, I’d made the decision to go — I’d been on the fence about it for months — and as the days got ever shorter I found myself eager to go. We’d already had some snow at home and I dreaded the thought of dealing with more on my trip. I was driving with my truck, truck camper, and 12-foot cargo trailer outfitted as a jewelry studio and had no desire to deal with slippery road conditions along the way.

The goal was to get deep into Oregon on that first day, but I had too much last-minute packing to do. By the time my rigs were packed, the camper was on the truck, and the trailer was hooked up, it was after 2 PM. Since I prefer not to drive in the dark these days, I knew I wouldn’t get far. I considered waiting until the next morning to depart, but my house-sitter was already installed and did not relish sleeping on the sofa while he slept in my bed. So I loaded up my pups, turned on the heated seat, and headed out.

Truck at Home
I snapped this photo before leaving on Sunday afternoon. My house sitter was watching from the deck, which is hidden from view in this shot.

I needed 4WD to get out of my driveway. There was just enough ice at the top of the little hill there to almost send me sliding backwards.

Although I’d skipped lunch and was really hungry, I didn’t stop until we reached my first overnight spot: Marysville State Park on the Columbia River at Route 97. Regular readers of my blog know that this is one of my preferred stops for winter driving with the camper. It’s cheap, there are pull-through spots, and the power is turned on (although not the water) at campsites. It was full dark when I arrived after 6 PM and I nearly missed the turn. I pulled in and slipped into a nice spot along the river. After a quick dinner of reheated leftovers, I took the girls for a walk through the fallen leaves to get a registration envelope. I’d pay on the way out.

You might be wondering why I was taking a route that would bring me through central Oregon rather that the much fast route through Idaho and down through Nevada. Two things. First, I had hopes of visiting a friend in the Sacramento area who is moving to Texas in the spring. Second, I wanted to visit a business where I was considering trying to get a job — remote, of course — in south central California. Route 97, which I’d taken many time when I worked in Central California in the spring, was not only a good direct route to both places, but it avoided the high elevation areas where it would be super cold and possibly snowy. I’ve had to stop for fuel in Jackpot, NV when it was -19°F and it wasn’t fun. Neither is dealing with frozen pipes in a camper.

Day 2: Oregon into California

We left just after dawn on Monday morning. I made one stop on the way out to pay the overnight fee and to use the central “winter water” spigot to top off my fresh water tanks.

Brand New Truckstop
This gas station looked brand new but wasn’t very busy at 7:30 AM.

Across the river, in Biggs Junction, I fueled up at what I think was a brand new fuel station. Fuel was much cheaper there than in Washington. I grabbed a McDonald’s breakfast at that truck stop town and got back on Route 97 south.

It rained.

There was fog.

The road was mostly empty, as it usually is, getting busy only by big towns like Redmond and Bend. I made a stop in a shopping center parking lot with some grassy islands and took my pups for a quick walk. Then back on the road.

The drive would have been boring if I wasn’t listening to an audiobook. I was working my way though Stephen King’s Dark Tower series, which I had been getting as audio books from the library. There’s nothing that makes a drive go faster than having something good to listen to. These books took a turn for the weird — even by King’s standards — in volume 5 or 6 but I did listen to them all by the time I got into Arizona.

I stopped for fuel just north of Klamath Falls. My pups walked a bit on a leash but didn’t do any business. I got back on the road. I figured I’d stop at a rest area I knew farther up where I could let them run off-leash. But when I asked about it at the agricultural inspection stop at the California border, they told me that rest area was closed. (And, fortunately, they didn’t take the 40-pounds of Honeycrisp apples I’d bought in Wenatchee to eat and give as gifts to friends.)

I passed a closed Forest Service Ranger Station with a big empty parking lot bordering on empty land and made a U-turn to go back to it. I let the girls have a run and do their business. I cut up one of those apples for a snack. We got back into the truck and continued on our way.

We eventually drove through Weed, CA and got onto the I-5 freeway. We’d been getting great views of Mt. Shasta for miles and miles and remembered a view area along the way. I found one — probably not the one I was thinking of, though — and pulled off, despite the NO RVS sign. It was empty. I parked where I could easily turn around and got out with the girls. On the way to the interpretive sign, I found traces of party gear: hypodermic needles, empty beer cans, and broken liquor bottles. We didn’t stay long.

Mt Shasta
My girls had plenty to sniff when we stopped at the lookout area for Mt. Shasta.

It was around 4 PM in the Redding, CA area that I decided I’d better find a place to stay. I’d covered more miles than I expected to, but not nearly as many as I needed to reach the possible overnight destination near Woodland I’d been thinking of. I saw a sign for a casino and got off the freeway. Casinos often allow free overnight RV parking and they have the added bonus of good security.

This casino had overnight parking, but it wasn’t free. Part of their lot had been set up with drive-through RV spaces, each equipped with water, power, and sewer hookups. The fee was $30 — not much more than I’d paid the night before for power only. There was an exercise trail, a golf cart shuttle to the casino (which had a restaurant), and good security I decided to stay.

I had to go into the casino to register and pay. That was an odd experience. Inside the door, I had to stop and stand at a sort of test station. An automatic system took my temperature while I pulled off my mask and got my picture taken. Inside, the place was packed and rules said you didn’t have to wear a mask if you were sitting down. All the slots were filled with unmasked people, half of whom were smoking. I made a bee-line to the registration desk and paid up, eager to be out of there. Even my idea of getting a meal to go from the restaurant evaporated. I wanted out.

That evening, after walking the dogs, I heard some guy walking around the parking area loudly calling out a woman’s name. When it didn’t stop after 20 minutes, I called the casino front desk and told them what was going on and that I was a little freaked out. (Honestly, I wasn’t frightened but it was annoying.) In less than 5 minutes, security arrived and the shouting guy was gone.

I took advantage of the hookups to use my microwave, wash all accumulated dishes, take a shower, and then dump both tanks before departing in the morning. My pups and I also took advantage of a nice trail that wound through the woods around the property, including down by a stream that feeds the Sacramento River.

Then it was back on the road.

Day 3: California All Day

By this time, my Sacramento friend had cancelled. She was feeling under the weather and at high risk for COVID. Although I’d suggested we get food to go somewhere and eat outdoors, she just wasn’t feeling up to it. That was fine. I had a lot of miles to cover anyway.

I’d originally considered stopping at an Apple store to buy a new iPad — mine has definitely seen better days — and a Trader Joe’s to stock up on some staples I wanted over the winter, but I decided against both things. I was planning to go to the Phoenix area over the weekend and could do both then. Instead, I just got on I-5 and headed south.

I tried to stop for fuel and a bite to eat in Woodland but couldn’t seem to find an easy-access fuel station that sold diesel. So I continued through the Sacramento area as my truck’s computer ticked down the miles until empty. I think I was on 12 when I finally found a truck stop in Lodi, CA. I fueled up, parked away from the pumps, and went inside to use the bathroom and get something to eat. I was on line at a Subway inside the truck stop when I realized that the food prep person wasn’t wearing a mask. I wound up getting lunch at another fast food place across the road.

I need to make it clear here that I really don’t like fast food and normally don’t eat it. But when you’re on the road, eager to put miles behind you, you take whatever you can get that’s quick and easy. So I ate a lot of crap on my trip south.

I continued down I-5 through California’s Central Valley. The freeway was in rough condition in some places — it’s such a shame we can’t take care of our infrastructure — and there was mostly farmland on both sides. Boring. I don’t like freeway driving, but it is usually the fastest way to travel. And by that time, I just wanted to be there.

But I did have one more stop: that business I mentioned earlier. I don’t want to go into details here. I’ll just say that I needed to visit the factory for a company I thought was up-and-coming based on information I’d gotten from an insider. I was hoping for a job doing communications work, including making videos of their products in production and use. I was thinking that a salaried job that paid me for getting work done (instead of punching a clock) and included benefits like a healthcare plan would be a good thing to transition into over time.

All that changed when I arrived at the factory. It wasn’t at all what I expected. And as the manager gave me a tour of the place and I realized how far behind they were in production, any thoughts I had of joining the team vanished. There was no place for me there. I wondered about my insider friend and how he could possibly believe the overly optimistic things he’d told me.

Cropduster at Night
Crop-dusters in southern California fly after dark. This plane had FOUR headlights.

Anyway, I got permission to camp in the parking lot overnight, so I did. It was in a weird industrial place near an airport. I got to watch a crop-duster come and go until long after sunset. Otherwise, it was pretty quiet. I slept well and as soon as the manager opened the gate and came into work, I pulled out of the lot and continued my drive.

Day 4: Arizona, Finally!

It rained on me as I drove east along the farm roads to Route 99. I was planning on crossing the mountains at Tehachapi, not wanting to deal with the Freeway traffic of southern California. The rain stopped before I’d reach the pass. I stopped for gas and a pee at an absolutely disgusting gas station in Tehachapi before getting back on the road. GoogleMaps took me on a detour I don’t think I needed to take, then dumped me in a desert city, putting me on roads with traffic lights and suburban stop-and-go traffic. After a half hour of that, I left the traffic behind me and headed east on Pearblossom Highway. Eventually, I hit I-15 and took that to I-10. We continued through the Palm Springs area and climbed up from sea level toward Arizona.

It had been a long time since I’d driven on most of those roads and I don’t think I would have chosen them myself. But I was so disillusioned about my factory visit the day before that all I could think about was ending the drive and starting my winter vacation. I was tired of driving. I just wanted to be there already. So I let GoogleMaps pick the route and went with it. Other than the unnecessary detour, it was pretty direct.

I was down to 60 miles left on my truck’s computer when I crossed the Colorado River on I-10 and took Exit 1. I had two different campsites in mind: the one we’d occupied the year before and another one about 5 miles south. Timing was everything, I knew, and I’d take the first one I found open. That was the one we’d been in the year before. I backed the trailer in, unhooked it, and repositioned my truck for the night, relieved to be done driving.

The Campsite

I didn’t drop the camper off the truck. Why? Well, my friend Janet would be joining me for part of my stay and she didn’t want to camp in that site. There wasn’t enough sun for her; although my solar panels are on my camper’s roof, she uses a portable solar panel that she puts on the ground. That site is surrounded by tall reeds so the sun doesn’t hit her panel until after 9 AM. She had no interest in putting her panel on her camper’s roof, even though that had worked for her the previous year.

The site I was parked on was one of a pair separated from each other by a boat ramp. Friends of ours had occupied that site the previous year. The other spot was larger and a bit sunnier. But it was also occupied. I figured I could keep the camper on the truck and slip into the other spot when the folks in it left.

Campsite One
Here I am after landing at the first campsite and finally disconnecting the trailer. I was glad to be done driving.

But, at the same time, I’d just driven 1,300 miles in four days, much of it through rain, and I wasn’t interested in searching for another campsite. So I spent the night there, with my camper still atop my rig.

In the morning, I felt rested and ready to stock up on a few supplies. I didn’t mind driving with the camper on my truck — hell, I’d just spent the past four days doing it. But, at the same time, I wondered whether the other site I’d been interested was available and, if so, what kind of condition it was in. The area was heavily used during the summer and some of the sites accumulated a lot of trash. It wasn’t uncommon for us to spend a bunch of time cleaning up after others when we camped. The site I was interested in had had a car wreck in the middle of it the last time I’d visited. I could only imagine what else was there.

But I didn’t need to imagine. I got into my truck and, leaving the trailer behind to hold the campsite for me, headed south on the gravel road.

Most of the campsites along the way were occupied and looked as if they had been for some time. One site along the road was available, but I knew how dusty it could get. I drove for miles along the river. The road was in dismal condition, with washboarding and potholes. I bounced along at 20 miles per hour, wondering how much cleaning up I’d have to do in my camper when I parked. Finally, I reached the turn for the site I liked. I peeked down its road before turning in. Nothing. I turned and drove to the end.

It was empty. It was even clean. Even the wrecked car had been moved.

I called Janet and asked if that site would work for her, knowing it would. It was a lot sunnier. Like the other site, it had a boat ramp that led down to a backwater channel where we could paddle our boats and fish. This channel didn’t exit to the river — it was fed from culvert pipes that ran between it and the river and another channel — but it was about a mile long. I’d camped there in the past with her once and I think she’d camped there several times.

She gave me the green light. I chose a spot for my camper and backed in. 15 minutes later, it was parked on its legs in a level spot and my truck was free of its burden.

I drove back up the road to fetch my trailer and parked it a short distance away in the new campsite. Then, making sure everything was locked up, I drove back up the road and into Blythe for some groceries.

I got back to my new camp just after 2 PM and spent the rest of the day setting up camp. It was great to be done driving.

Sunset
The view of sunset across the Colorado River from the main road a few hundred yards from camp. Arizona has been treating us to quite a few magnificent sunrises and sunsets since we’ve been here.

Janet would join me with her rigs four days later.

Western Washington Wander 2020: Dungeness Recreation Area

I spend two nights in a pleasant campground, recovering from a weekend of hard work and bad air.

Last year, I spent a weekend in Port Angeles, WA, on the Olympic Peninsula, selling my jewelry — or at least trying to — at a rock show there. I had done very well in January at a rock show in Mesa, AZ, and figured that might just be my niche. It wasn’t. I barely made enough to make the trip all the way out there worthwhile.

While I was at the show, I camped out in a corner of the municipal parking lot. It was surprisingly pleasant — heck, deer came out of the woods right there to nibble on the blackberries that grew beside the spaces — but I knew damn well that I’d be overstaying my welcome if I spent the night after the show there. So I whipped out my public lands campground app, Ultimate CG, and found Dungeness Recreation Area, a county park just down the road in Sequim.

It was raining gently when I arrived just before dark and I found a campsite in one of the loops. It was surprisingly large and private, as were most of the other sites. Very pleasant. And I had the added bonus of finding a few very healthy lobster mushrooms at the back of my site in the woods.

Settling in at Dungeness

All that was on my mind when I left Eatonville and headed west. It was a 2-1/2 hour drive and I arrived at least a half hour after dark. With those lobster mushrooms in my mind, I tried to remember what site I’d been in. I wound up in the site right next to it.

Campsite1
Here’s a photo I shot in the morning of my truck backed into our campsite. There was lots of privacy with dense vegetation on either side of us.

Campsite 2
The campsite was spacious with a picnic table, fire pit (just out of the shot), and enough space to erect multiple tents. Because there was no campsite behind ours, we had the illusion of woods going on forever.

I was dead tired and tightly wound when I backed into the spot, using a lantern as a parking guide. It was darker than I thought possible for a county campground. I absolutely hate driving at night in an unfamiliar area and the last 45 minutes had been stressful for me. I was glad to get in. I had just enough energy left to take the girls for a quick business walk, make us all dinner, and then take one more short walk for good luck. I had the pay envelope, but it didn’t give a rate anywhere on it and I certainly wasn’t going to walk all the way back to the pay station in complete darkness anyway. I’d pay in the morning.

I slept surprisingly well. Well, maybe not so surprising when I think about how tired I was. I made my coffee while the girls were still asleep and managed to finish half of it before they woke up. Then it was time to take them for a walk.

And that was the drawback of staying at a real campground: I couldn’t just open the door and let them out to pee. I had to put them on leashes and take them for a walk.

I got dressed, grabbed the campground registration form I’d filled out the night before, put some money in my pocket, and leashed up the girls. Then we set out toward the pay station.

Fire Map
There were fires burning throughout Washington, Oregon, and California (not shown on this map). The smoke in the west had become “hazardous.”

It was a pleasant walk despite the foglike smoke that had settled over the area. Visibility couldn’t have been more than a half mile, but since we were walking in the damp forest, it didn’t really matter. We cut through the campground on a path I’d remembered from the previous year. The girls sniffed and did their business along the way.

At the pay station, I put $26 in the envelope and noted the 12 noon checkout time. I grabbed a park map and we headed back to the camper. I finished my coffee and made us all breakfast.

Full Day at Dungeness

The plan that day was to hike out on a path along the ocean known as “the Spit.” There was a lighthouse at the end that I’d never seen. So after breakfast I packed up a small daypack with rain gear — there was rain in the forecast — bottled water, and some snacks. I almost put the binoculars in there but then wondered what I expected to look at with visibility so low and put them away.

We cut out along another path through the woods that took us toward the Spit trailhead. I really love the forest in that park. It was dense and damp but somehow still bright. The forest floor was thick with pine needles and branches and leafy undergrowth. In wetter conditions, it would likely be full of all kinds of mushrooms. It had a sort of atmosphere that seemed to absorb sound, or at least make it quieter.

We emerged at the end of the trail at a parking area and crossed it to the trailhead. I looked at the signs to learn more about the hike. Of course, the one I noticed first was the one that said “No Pets.”

Okay, to be fair it was a wildlife refuge. And yes, I do get the fact that park managers don’t want big bumbling dogs — or even small ones, for that matter — chasing wildlife. But I was still disappointed. I was really looking forward to a walk on the beach with my pups.

Fortunately, Dungeness has many trails. Without wasting anymore time there, I headed off on the one that went along the bluffs with my two little dogs in tow.

Hike Map
The orange line marks our hike route. You can see it on GaiaGPS, along with the one crappy photo I took.

We spent the next hour or so meandering on trails throughout the park, passing a handful of mostly masked hikers along the way. (I’m sorry, but although I do believe that masks help prevent the spread of the virus, I don’t believe they’re necessary when hiking outdoors, especially in places where the chances of passing another person are slim. I should add here that all the people I saw wearing masks along the trails were seniors so maybe they felt more at risk? I kept my distance from them.) The only wildlife I saw were squirrels, birds, and a single deer.

At one point, a woman with two medium sized dogs warned me that her dogs weren’t friendly; as if to prove her point, the two dogs strained at their leashes, growling and barking as they tried to get at my pups. To their credit, my girls hurried past them on short leashes. (Poor Lily looked absolutely terrified.) But it makes me wonder why someone wouldn’t better socialize their dogs before taking them out in public where there might be other dogs. Seriously folks: either you’re going to make your dog a part of your life and train it appropriately or you’re not. There’s very little middle ground.

One thing I noticed along the walk was that I was getting tired a lot more quickly than I should have been. The trails were relatively flat and very easy walking, yet I felt exhausted and had a headache within the first mile and a half. My left knee was aching. I definitely did not feel like hitting the road again to places unknown. I felt like taking a nap. And it wasn’t even 11 AM.

So we stopped at the pay station on the way back to camp. I filled out another envelope and stuck another $26 into it. I’d spend the day there at the park, just taking it easy, and head out the next day.

To my credit, I did hike about 2-1/4 miles that morning — basically the same walk I do three times a week with a neighbor at home.

A Lazy Afternoon

Rosie and Lily
The bench seat on my RV’s dinette is small, but both pups managed to squeeze in a nap sitting next to me sometime during our stay at the park.

After a satisfactory visit to one of the campground’s coin-op showers, I reheated the previous night’s leftovers for lunch and did a little work on my blog outside at the picnic table. I tried leaving my pups off-leash at the campsite, but they invariably got “the zoomies” and chased each other out of the campsite boundaries, winding up at someone else’s site where Rosie went in for pets and Lily played keep-away. Around 2 PM, I went in for a nap with the girls. They’d skipped breakfast — sometimes they’re finicky — but wound up eating most of their food for lunch. We all climbed up on the bed together. I read for a while and then fell asleep.

I had begun wondering whether my spent feeling was due to the bad air or possible COVID exposure during my travels. I’d been with two other people, all of us maskless in a large open indoor area, all weekend. As I’ve been doing occasionally since the virus has begun spreading, I cataloged my symptoms: mild cough, mild sore throat, headache, general feeling of fatigue. I managed to get a good enough Internet connection to check the air quality in my area and saw that it was over 300: Hazardous. Maybe breathing bad air was making me sick? Whodathunkit?

Rack of Lamb on the Barbie
I used aluminum foil to protect the meat from the flames I knew would start up when fat hit the burners. My portable BBQ grill is very temperamental, but keeping it set to low and closing the lid gave me the ovenlike cooking I wanted.

I started dinner at 5 PM. I’d defrosted a rack of lamb and had decided to cook it on my grill instead of coating my camper’s tiny oven with spattered lamb fat. I’d never cooked rack of lamb on the grill before. I also didn’t have a meat thermometer with me. Amazingly, however, I managed to pull it off, ending up with a perfectly cooked rack that I served up with pan-fried garden potatoes and the last of my garden scallions. I had sliced figs on the side. I put half the rack in the fridge for lunch the next day.

A Feeling of Malaise

We went for two more short walks before bedtime. The nap had really helped me. I think that just taking it easy and breathing less of that bad air is what really helped me.

But I had also begun feeling as if I’d fallen into a sort of mental funk. Was I depressed? Maybe.

The situation in this country is really out of control. Between the virus and the wildfires (and their smoke) and the bullshit politics, I really don’t know how anyone can remain upbeat. There’s just too much stupidity, hate, and anger in this country these days.

I’m looking forward to a Biden presidency, but if it’s stolen from him (as it was stolen from Clinton in 2016) by foreign players and Electoral College inequities, I don’t know what I will do. I know I can’t live through four more years of what we have now but I don’t want to abandon the life I’ve built for myself and become an expat. I can’t see a compromise without putting on blinders and ignoring the damage being done to our country, its reputation in the world, and its people.

And even if Biden does win, I have worry that wacko Trump supporters — and I do mean wacko — will try to start a civil war, spurred on by Trump and Fox News. They’ve been fed a steady diet of lies about Biden and the democratic party and they honestly fear for their way of life. How can we hope to undo the damage of those lies? How can we help them see reason? I think it’s impossible.

Every day more negative stories about Trump are emerging — even stories with him on tape admitting that he misled the American people! Yet none of these stories are penetrating the thick skulls of his supporters to help them see reason. They truly are cult members. Cult members with guns who don’t think twice about ending another person’s life.

Anyway, I’ve been avoiding talking politics in my blog because, honestly, I’m sick of it. But I needed to get this off my chest, to explain the general feeling of malaise that has come over me. I think that it’s a combination of these things: COVID, smoke/fires, and politics. I suspect that if COVID and the smoke weren’t part of the big picture in my life, I’d be able to better deal with the politics. But I can’t.

[And if you’re a Trump supporter reading this, FUCK YOU. I have zero tolerance these days for people STUPID and UNPATRIOTIC enough to support the greedy, racist, narcissistic conman in the White House. I hope someday you WAKE THE FUCK UP and realize how much damage he’s done to this country. In the meantime, please leave a big, long comment on this blog post so I can have the pleasure of marking it as spam without even reading it. I want you to waste your time trying unsuccessfully to share your bullshit with my blog readers. You might want to read this if you’re worried about your First Amendment rights.]

A Peaceful, Restful Night

Sometime during the afternoon, a light rain started up. I love the sound of rain on the roof of my camper and that cheered me considerably. It was the first rain I’d experienced since June 28 and I was ready for it.

The campground was amazingly quiet; no generators, no barking dogs, no screaming kids. I think that’s what I liked most about the campground — large private sites, sparsely populated on weeknights, with very little camper noise. It gave me the illusion of staying someplace like Buck Creek Camp with the benefit of toilets, showers, and garbage receptacles.

Throughout the night, the rain came and went. Even when it wasn’t raining, I could hear big drops from the trees on top of the camper. It was like music to my ears. I slept well and woke refreshed.

The afternoon before, I’d booked a campsite at one of the coastal campgrounds in Olympic National Park. Although I had my doubts about the campground, I was able to get a site right on the ocean. It was 2-1/2 hours away. After breakfast and two dog walks, I packed up my grill, neatened up the camper, and pulled out for a leisurely drive west.

I would definitely get my walk on the beach that day.