Snowbirding 2019 Postcards: Superstition Mountains

Posted on February 22, 2019 by Maria Langer

I’m still in Arizona and still in my camper and still pulling my little cargo trailer. I signed up to display and sell my jewelry at an art show in Apache Junction this Saturday (tomorrow). I needed a place nearby to hunker down through the winter storm that was expected. Although a friend in nearby Mesa invited me to stay at her house, her husband has a terrible cold (again; what’s with that, Jan?) and I thought it best to stay clear.

I wound up just outside of the National Forest land north of Apache Junction, less than 5 miles from the Superstition Mountains. I found a relatively level spot alongside a wide dirt area, dropped the camper’s rear legs to level and stabilize it while still on the truck bed, and settled in for a three night stay.

The Superstition Mountains were right out my dining area window. They glowed in Wednesday’s late afternoon light.

The Superstition Mountains in last light.

The expected winter storm came in right on schedule with scattered rain showers starting during the night and then turning to a steady rain just afternoon on Thursday. I had planned ahead and had everything I needed to work on a big jewelry project inside the camper. I listened to a recorded book while I started work on a fine silver chain for a customer. I even did a little live tweeting with photos.

The rain continued throughout the rest of the day and into the night, turning the dirt area near me and the dirt road I’d taken to get to my campsite into thick mud and reddish brown flowing puddles. The mudders came by in their trucks at 5 PM and some of them were still playing in the mud when I went to sleep at 9.

In the morning, it was still raining, but lighter. And when I looked out the window, I saw the Superstition Mountains blanketed with snow.

The Superstition Mountains blanketed with snow the morning after a winter storm.

For those of you who aren’t familiar with the Phoenix area, this is not normal. I consider myself lucky to have the chance to see it.

The rain is starting to let up now, but I’ll spend the rest of the day here, finishing up that jewelry project and making a few pairs of earrings I need for tomorrow’s show. With luck, I’ll be able to get out of here tomorrow morning at 7 to set up for that show; I admit to having doubts, mostly because of the condition of the road. I’m sure the mudders will be back in force today; maybe I’ll get some video of their antics.

And, with luck, I’ll get another afternoon shot of the Superstitions in last light, perhaps with some lingering snow.

Snowbirding 2019: Off Plomosa Road

Posted on February 5, 2019 by Maria Langer

Some rockhounding and a campsite on the edge of the desert crowd.

Posts in this series:
• The Long Drive
• At the Backwaters Campsite
• In Mesa and Gilbert
• A Quick Stop in Wickenburg and Forepaugh
• Off Plomosa Road
• Camping at the Big RV Show
• A Trip to Organ Pipe with the WINs
• The Tucson Gem & Mineral Shows
• Wickenburg Gold Rush Days
• Constellation Park Interlude
• White Tank Mountain Park
• Bumming It in Phoenix and Apache Junction
• A Dose of Civilization
• Return to the Backwaters
•

I left Wickenburg for what would be a 17-day stay in the Quartzsite area just after noon on Friday. The first part of that stay was completely unstructured; I’ll tell you a little about it here.

The First Rockhounding Hike

On my Christmas wish list was a book called Gem Trails of Arizona and my brother got it for me for Christmas. I packed it and took it south with me. The same book was being sold by my next door neighbor at the Flagg Gem and Mineral Show in Mesa and I had a chance to thumb through it. I was motivated to try a few of the sites and, since one of them was right along my route to Quartzsite from Wickenburg, I figured I’d start there.

Understand that I’m only interested in one kind of stone: stones I can polish into cabochons to put into jewelry. Crystals don’t interest me very much at all. Neither do minerals that show all kinds of cool features that might interest collectors. If it can’t be polished into a cabochon, I’m just not interested.

That said, this particular site, titled Brenda Jasper in the book, was said to have “some very colorful jasper. Specimens show a variety of markings and inclusions, including yellow and red flower patterns, moss, paisleys, and some streaked with purple and blue. In addition, there is a host of multicolored materials, as well as some possessing only single shades of yellow, orange, purple or red.” Putting aside the redundant nature of this description, this sounded just like what I was looking for. I had some experience polishing jasper and it was all good. Best of all, the site was a short walk from the main road, Route 60, and the description mentioned a parking area about a half mile away that I’d likely be able to get my rig with its trailer into.

I used Google Earth in an attempt to find the place and its parking area on the map. What I found didn’t match what was described, but it might be close. It looked like plenty of room for me to park. I set up Google to guide me there. About an hour after leaving Wickenburg on an uneventful drive, I arrived. I eased the truck and trailer off a lip between the road and the parking area, moved up enough that someone could get in behind me, and killed the engine.

I wasn’t sure if I was in the right place. After all, the place I’d parked wasn’t mentioned at all in the description. The description also said that I’d have to crawl under a fence, but when Penny and I crossed the road, there was a narrow gap in the fence that was clearly designed to let people but not cattle through. Beyond that was a trail and we started up it, heading south.

I immediately saw small pieces of what I assume is yellow jasper. I picked up a few that could be cut into cabochons without slabbing. There was red jasper, too, and I collected some of that. We hiked up the trail and into the rocky hills. Up there I found some small crystals, which I left behind. None of them were very impressive, although they might make a good find for kids just starting out as rockhounds. Best to leave it for them.

We spent about an hour wandering around and I collected a bunch of rocks that I thought might polish up nicely. Even though the book’s instructions on how to get there were not exactly accurate, I had definitely found the right place and some usable rocks. As for the more impressive patterned and multi-colored materials, they’d either been picked out or required digging, which I was not prepared to do.

Here’s a view from the saddle of the little mountain we climbed during my rock hunt. That white dot in the middle of the photo is my truck with the camper on top.

Satisfied, we went back to the rig, climbed in, and continued our drive.

Plomosa Road

What I learned at Plomosa Camp

Over the next few days, I learned a few things at this campsite:

First, because my solar panels are mounted on the front of my camper’s roof and tilt slightly down toward the front, knowledgeable friends had advised me to park with the front facing south to maximize solar energy collection. At this campsite, I parked with the front facing southwest, despite the fact that I like my camper door (in the back) to face south to maximize sunlight indoors. Yes, I collected more sunlight — while the sun was out. But I was also unhappy because of limited light inside and the fact that I could see neither sunrise nor sunset through the camper’s windows. (It reminded me of the cavelike condo my wasband had in Phoenix.) And since we had two overcast and rainy days, solar collection wasn’t sufficient to keep my batteries topped off during the day for part of the stay so I had to run my generator anyway.

Second, people in RVs use their generators too damn much. One night someone nearby had his running until after 11 PM. Seriously? What the hell are you doing in your box that you need a generator running that long? Shut off the fucking television and talk to your companion. Play cards. Read a book. Have sex. Go out and look at the stars. None of these things require a noisy generator. Stop being so fucking selfish.

Third, during a government shutdown when there are no BLM rangers around, people pretty much ignore the signs and park wherever they damn please. So by the end of my stay I was no longer on the edge of the camping area; there were people parked around me in every direction.

I had spent enough time studying the rockhounding book to know that the 14-day camp area on BLM land adjacent to Plomosa Road would be a good, free location to camp that was central to several other rockhounding sites. With that mind, when I got into Quartzsite I turned north on route 95 toward Parker, then made the right turn onto Plomosa.

Plomosa is a paved road that runs between route 95 and the small town of Bouse. The camping area stretches along the road to the north and south, limited mostly by a few washes and sandy areas that RVs can’t easily get through. There were a lot of RVs already parked out there and I didn’t want to be near any of them. So I headed out on Plomosa, planning to park somewhere beyond the throng.

My plans were dashed, however, by a sign on the road that said, “No Overnight Camping Beyond this Point.” Crap.

I turned around and pulled off the road the first place I could. Okay, I thought. I’ll go north in the desert beyond all of these people.

Dashed again. Another series of signs about 1/4 mile into the desert that said the same thing. They basically formed a barrier beyond which the BLM simply didn’t want you to camp.

Fine. I parked 50 feet in from one of the signs. I was on the edge of the camping area with no one anywhere near. That would have to be good enough.

I disconnected the trailer, then pulled the truck and camper around so the door of the camper was at a 90° angle to the back doors of the trailer. Then I dropped the camper legs and pulled the truck away. I set up the saw horses under the camper, since I expected to stay for more than just a few days and wanted it as stable as possible.

Here’s how I set up my camp on Plomosa Road. I use the saw horses any time I expect to stay for more than a few days.

Here’s an aerial view of my Plomosa Road campsite, snapped with my drone before the camping area got crowded. My camp is at the bottom; this shot looks southwest.

By this time, it was late afternoon and I was done for the day. Mother Nature rewarded me with a beautiful sunset.

Sunset from my campsite on Plomosa Road.

I made myself a quick dinner, relaxed, and was asleep before 9 PM.

More Rockhounding

In the morning, Penny and I got an early start on a rockhounding trip to two sites farther up Plomosa Road toward Bouse. The first site — or group of sites — was called “Plomosa Road Minerals” and promised quartz, jasper, agate, calcite, and other stones I knew could polish up nicely. And the directions seemed clear enough, even offering a mile marker on the road as a landmark.

But it wasn’t that easy. When I got to the mile marker, it wasn’t clear which road I needed to turn at. It was another BLM camping area and there were dozens of people camped out there. There were far more roads than the directions indicated.

I spent too much time looking for rocks and not enough time taking photos of the desert around me. Here’s one of the photos I did stop to take.

I did my best to find Site A, which was the closest and seemed to be the easiest to find. But it wasn’t clear where I was supposed to go. I wound up parking near a mining claim on a hill and wandered around far enough away that I wouldn’t violate the claim. (At least I tried to.) I found a handful of stones that looked interesting, although I have no idea what they are.

I tried to find Site C next and failed miserably.

When I tried to find Site B, following the instructions to the letter, I got lost when it said to head toward “a small mountain range” and there was no mountain range anywhere near or in front of me.

Then I decided to try using the GPS coordinates provided in the book to zero in on a site. They were presented in degrees with decimal minutes — for example, 33° 49.78′ N and 114° 03.95′ W — and I needed to convert them to decimal degrees to enter them into Google maps on my iPhone (since I still can’t figure out how to type a ° symbol on iOS) — for example, 33.8296 -114.0658. When I entered the coordinates, the pointer showed me a location that was nowhere near where the directions sent me. In one case, the GPS pointed to a location on the other side of Plomosa Road from the location indicated on the piss poor map in the book.

I checked the book’s introduction to see why the coordinates might be off and found this paragraph [my comments added]:

This edition provides GPS coordinates to assist with finding the sites. Coordinates were taken using a DeLorme Earthmate GPS PN-20 [perhaps pre-WAAS?] and/or supplied by David A Kelty, author of The GPS Guide to Western Gem Trails [which is probably the book I should have bought]. It is important to understand, however, that determining exactly where to take the reading is a little difficult [How so? Find a rock, take a reading. Seems simple to me.] and might actually be misleading [ya think?]. In some cases, if a site is quite extensive, an approximate mid-point coordinate is given [which makes sense]. In other spots, due to mountain or canyon wall interference, a GPS reading was taken and then either confirmed or modified [?!] using a computerized mapping program. Please do not think the the GPS coordinates will place you exactly on top of the absolute best part of any given site. [I don’t expect that, but I do expect them to match the directions and get me to the rocks.] They are provided only to assist in confirming that you are at or near [within a few miles, apparently] where you should be. The maps [which are NOT to scale] and driving instructions should be your primary source of information in regard to site access [so you’re pretty much screwed because those stink].

As my inserted comments indicate, I was starting to realize that the book was not to be relied upon. Although revised in 2009, I suspect that the author didn’t make much of an effort to visit every single site in the book. That would explain the unclear directions, erroneous GPS coordinates, and crude, inaccurate maps.

Still, I’d done okay with the Brenda site. Maybe this group of sites was a bad one. I’d try another: Bouse Hematite & Jasper. This one provided instruction from Bouse that included a cattle guard as a landmark. To make sure I had the right cattle guard, I drove all the way into Bouse. While I was there, I had lunch at a cafe — the only one in town. Then I was back on the road, following the directions.

I knew there would be a problem when the directions said to turn right 0.3 miles past the cattle guard and there was no turn there. Instead, there was a turn at the cattle guard. I turned. I tried to follow the directions and I think I may have gotten close. But there was nothing worth picking up when I finally stopped for a look.

By that time, I was pretty much done and started heading back to the camper. Along the way, I caught sight of an old mine off in the distance. When I found a road that might take me close, I followed it. I parked the truck in a turnout just before the road descended into a sandy wash. Penny and I got out to walk around. I eventually found a handful of stones that may have included jasper and chrysocolla. The mine sites were really nothing more than survey sites. We got back in the truck and headed back.

When we reached the camper, I discovered that a group of about 10 fifth wheel campers had parked nearby. I’d be listening to their generators whenever I was at camp for the rest of my stay.

Moon Mountain

The next day, I went into Quartzsite for propane and water. It had been cold at night and I was using my heater. Just because I’m camping doesn’t mean I need to be uncomfortable.

But I also thought I’d take the opportunity to try to find one more site from the book: Moon Mountain Petrified Wood. This site promised petrified wood, agate, and jasper. If I found it, I felt I could trust the book for more rockhounding. If I didn’t, I figured I’d stow the book in a cabinet for the rest of the trip.

The search started off bad. It directed me to Avenue 24E or Moon Mountain Road. There was no Avenue 24E in Quartzsite but there was a Moon Mountain Avenue. Unfortunately, Moon Mountain Avenue ends with a roadblock and a few tentative 4×4 trails into a sandy wash beyond. I turned left and then made a right onto a road that seemed to go the same place as Moon Mountain Road on the book’s crappy map. It was called Boyer Road and later called Boyer Gap. I followed it along a bumpy graded road heading northwest into the empty desert. The book told me I’d be heading toward “distant cliffs in the northwest” but the only rise I saw out there was what looked like a small mountain range and it was very far away. Was I on the right road?

I continued bumping along until I found a fork in the road that may have been the one in the book. I kept right. The road got worse. The book’s directions said to “continue approximately 9.5 more rough and sandy miles.” I was driving at about 15 miles per hour. The thought of spending more than 30 minutes bumping along a road that may or may not be the right one and may or may not take me to a viable rockhounding site was depressing. I tried plugging in the GPS coordinates and it told me I was going the right direction. But Google Maps satellite view didn’t show any kind of road at all where the coordinates were.

Was this another wild goose hunt?

It could be.

Did I really want to drive all the way out there and not find what I was looking for?

No. I turned around and went back.

At Camp and Beyond

I filled my propane and water bottles back in town and went back to camp. There were more RVs parked nearby. In fact, the camping area was really starting to fill up. This didn’t surprise me much. Quartzsite’s peak time for winter visitors was during the big RV show that ran (this year) from January 19 through 27. It was January 13, a week before the craziest part of the month would begin. The desert dwellers were beginning to arrive in force.

One of my camp chores was to pull all the nails and other metal debris out of the fire pit I drove over when I parked my camper. (I honestly didn’t see it.) I bought a high-powered magnet in Quartzsite just for the task. I got this is what I got the first time I worked the pit; I got the same amount when I did it again a few days later in preparation for getting the camper back on the truck.

I did camp chores: topping off my water supply, installing the filled propane tank, taking out my portable barbecue grill to grill up some more of the ribs I’d smoked at home and brought with me, vacuum sealed and frozen. I took it easy. I wrote blog posts — I was terribly behind in my trip reporting (and still am).

I also took out my drone and sent it up for a few flights to document the RV-filled desert around me. I was in Quartzsite to do drone photography (again) although I really wanted to do more work with my jewelry. I did finally spend some time making a few pendants.

Here’s a look west down Plomosa Road just after dawn one day. The desert was just starting to fill with RVers.

On Monday, Penny and I headed up to Parker. I needed to do laundry before the RV show started, since once I was set up in the big RV show tent I didn’t think I’d get much time to take care of things like that. I figured I’d also do some grocery shopping, get some documents printed, and then head down to Ehrenberg to check for mail. A neat little loop. That took most of the day. Although I really like the laundromat in Parker, the number of winter visitors competing for washers and dryers makes doing laundry almost a blood sport.

That afternoon, after we got back, it started to rain. Hard. I love a good desert rain, but this was more of a deluge. Visibility dropped to less than a quarter mile and the mountains around me disappeared. So did a lot of the RVs. The desert me, which was mostly flat there with a slight slope, developed pools of water that flowed like little streams anywhere it had flowed in the past. It kept me and Penny inside the camper for the rest of the day.

The view out my back door at the peak of the rainstorm.

A Day in Quartzsite

The next day, I headed into Quartzsite for my meeting with the RV show owners. I’d be doing some drone photography for them and they wanted to make sure I knew exactly what they wanted. After chatting for a while inside the big toy hauler they were using as an office, I went out with Kenny in a golf cart to tour the rain-soaked venue.

The big RV show tent had gone up while I was in the Phoenix area or Wickenburg. This really disappointed me, since I was hoping to create a time-lapse movie of its erection. After all, how often do you see men raise a 65,000 square foot tent? It would have made such a cool movie. Maybe next year?

At that point, they were putting the finishing touches on the interior of the tent, which Kenny drove right into. I got to see where my little 10×10 booth would be. I got to think about how I could get aerial footage inside the tent without violating FAR part 107 — specifically, flight over people. Show management was expecting huge crowds on Saturday morning and they wanted to make sure I was able to show just how busy the show was.

Here are some of the stones I bought that week.

Afterwards, I headed over to Tyson Wells, which was between shows. The rock show had just ended on Sunday and Sell-A-Rama was due to start on Friday. My friends Janet and Steve would be out in a day or two to start setting up for the next show. The weird thing about Tyson Wells is that if you’re signed up for two consecutive shows and have the same spot in both shows, you can keep your booth open on that week between shows. So about half the venue had open booths. Before the week was out, I’d do my big stone shopping trip, buying more than 70 cabochons from my favorite shop.

On To My Next Destination

On Wednesday morning, I packed up my camper, put it back onto my truck, and connected the trailer again. It was time for a little “luxury” — a sort of full hookup campsite at the RV show in Quartzsite. As I drove away from the now crowded camping area, I wondered how long it would be before someone else slipped into my vacated spot in the desert.

Snowbirding 2019: A Quick Stop in Wickenburg and Forepaugh

Posted on January 31, 2019 by Maria Langer

I do some shopping and configure my new old trailer.

Although I would have had breakfast at Wild Horse West, they didn’t open until 10 AM and even then all they had was their regular burger menu. So after taking Penny for a quick walk to do her business, we loaded up into the truck and pulled out, dragging the trailer behind me.

Return to Wickenburg

If you’ve been reading this blog for a long time, you may recall that I lived in Wickenburg. For 15 years. I actually started looking for a different place to live back in 2005 — only eight years after arriving — but my wasband would only agree to two other places: San Diego, which is crowded and wildly expensive, and Santa Fe, which is at an elevation that would make it impossible to run my helicopter charter business. So I was stuck in Wickenburg — until I got divorced and was able to move wherever the hell I wanted to. I wasted no time getting out. That was in 2013.

So I knew Wickenburg well. I knew where I could get printing done (KwikPrint) and where I could buy groceries (Safeway). And I was only in town long enough to hit those two destinations, get what I needed, and get out.

At Forepaugh

My friend Janet, who I’d camped with for two weeks over the Christmas holidays, was staying with her significant other, Steve, at an off-the-grid ranch in Forepaugh.

Forepaugh is roughly halfway between Aguila and Wickenburg. There’s no town, but a bunch of people live near the main road on small ranchettes. Its claim to fame goes back to World War II, when glider pilots were trained at its old airport, which has since been wiped off the map, most likely by the guys who like to fly their toy airplanes there.

The ranch Janet and Steve were staying at belonged to their friend Rosie. I’d stayed there before. This time, I was staying for a day or two to configure my cargo trailer so it could neatly and efficiently hold all the extra gear I had crammed into the back seat area of my truck and my camper.

You see, Janet and Steve use this stuff called E-Track to create flexible anchor points inside their cargo-hauling vehicles. They had to configure Janet’s new old truck so they were down in Phoenix, in part, to buy some E-Track. While they were there, they picked up two 10-foot lengths with connections for me. I needed to pick that stuff up, but I also needed to borrow their tools to install it. So I had a small ton of work ahead of me at the ranch before I moved on.

Rosie’s ranch is a working cattle ranch with free range cattle and other cattle that’s kept in pens not far from where Janet, Steve, and I camped. There are also lots of horses and dogs. There’s no electricity and Rosie doesn’t have any solar panels, so she fires up a big generator when it gets dark and lets it run all night. Fortunately, we weren’t close enough for it to be a bother. The rest of us had low power needs and solar panels so we didn’t have to run our generators much at all.

Rosie’s Ranch from the air, as shot from my drone one day.

I didn’t get anything done that first day I was there — Wednesday — but I did do most of the necessary configuration the next day. The E-Track, which I’d never used before, seemed like a good solution when you want to fasten something to the walls of a trailer or truck back. The trick was installing it so that the screws would catch something other than the plywood inside the trailer.

Of course, they didn’t come with hardware so I wound up going back into Wickenburg with Janet to fetch some self-tapping screws while she mailed a package. Then back to work. I managed to catch a few screws on the trailer’s metal frame. The others went into the plywood. But when I was done with the first rail it was not going anywhere without the trailer.

Steve cut the other piece for me since the trailer, which is 12 feet long, has a door on one side. I think we went with 7 feet plus 3 feet. I put the long piece lower on the short wall and put the short piece very close to the floor near the back end of the other wall.

Next, I had to assemble and secure the heavy duty plastic shelving I’d bought at Lowes on Tuesday. I decided to put that on the long wall, right across from the man door on the side of the trailer. I had ratchet tie down straps and with the rings that fit into the E-Track, it was very quick and easy to secure the shelves to the wall.

I installed the shelves opposite the man door on the side of the trailer. The gas can and jugs on the upper shelves are empty (of course).

Once I had the shelves in, I began filling them with the various boxes of tools, raw materials, and finished products for my jewelry business. These things were scattered all over my camper: plastic bins of tools and metal in a cabinet over my table, more plastic bins of tools and soldering equipment secured on a cubbyhole countertop, glass-topped compartmented trays of cabochons, large glass-fronted case with finished pendants, etc., etc. Everything fit into place neatly and I was able to secure them with bungee cords I’d also bought at Lowe’s.

I could fit my bike, unfolded, against one wall. In this picture, you can also see my work table with the other tables beneath it.

With that mostly done, I started working on the other items I wanted to get out of my camper and the back seat area of my truck. My generator. My barbecue grill. Those tables. My tall director’s chair. My bicycle. I was able to fit everything into the trailer and secure it with the E-Track.

What I liked best was that I was able to open my small table — it’s 2 x 4 feet and has adjustable height — and secure it over the other two tables that were folded up and strapped against the wall. This made it possible to maintain a work area inside the trailer — no more dealing with desert dust on windy days!

Here’s a look inside the trailer’s back door. Although I considered replacing the rearmost floor board, I’ve since decided to cover it with carpet.

Later in the day, Janet and Steve helped me get my folding canopy tent and inflatable kayak off the roof of the camper. The canopy fit easily by the back door of the trailer with its fabric top and sides strapped against the opposite wall. The kayak, however, was too big to be strapped anywhere — at least not with the current configuration. I left its bag on the floor near the shelves, hoping its weight would keep it from moving around too much in transit.

When I was finished, I was very pleased with the setup. I’d used up just about all of the wall space while leaving a path in the middle of the trailer. This made everything accessible without having to move much of anything else. While not exactly the mobile workshop I’d imagined when I first began thinking of a cargo trailer for my winter travel and work, it was definitely a start.

I already had plans to replace the big shelves with a narrower set when I got home and could put my workbench drawers inside the trailer for my next jewelry work-related trip. Then all those tools and metals could come out of their bins and be better organized in drawers.

I had pretty much everything settled and strapped down by late Thursday. On Friday morning, I finalized and checked the setup. I was good to go.

Latte and Away

Not long after arriving in Forepaugh, I got a text from my airport friend, Stan. He remembered the approximate time I said I’d be back in town and was following up with an invitation for lattes at the airport. (No, Wickenburg Airport does not have a coffee shop. Stan has a cappuccino machine in his hangar.) I had to pass that day, but got back to him on Thursday with a suggestion for Friday morning. We set the time for 11 AM.

I pulled out of Rosie’s Ranch at about 9:30 AM on Friday morning, with my camper back on board and the trailer behind me. I ran two errands — post office and supermarket — and arrived at the airport just a few minutes late. Stan had invited the airport gang. There were lots of hugs all around. I had to update everyone about what I’d been up to for the past year. The latte was good and strong.

It was after noon when I finally got on the road to my next destination. I had one stop planned along the way — but you can read about that in the next post about this year’s snowbirding trip.

Snowbirding 2019 Postcards: Well Documented Mining Claim

Posted on January 29, 2019 by Maria Langer

I took a short walk out in the desert this morning with Penny, who is feeling much better now. We were parked only about a quarter mile from pavement but were the only campers in sight in any direction.

Along the way, my eyes caught sight of something that didn’t quite fit: a white pole coming out of the ground. I walked over to take a look.

A neat white stake near the intersection of two gravel roads out in the desert.

My first thought was “mining claim.” But this one was unusually neat and had a weird, enclosed container on the top.

Someone had made a neat little container and fastened it to the top of the stake.

It was obvious that the container was designed to be opened. So I twisted off the cap. Inside, was a rolled up, folded piece of paper.

Inside the container was a copy of the mining claim form.

As I suspected, the paper was related to a mining claim. It was an actual copy of the claim form the described the claim in detail and provided the name of the claim owner. I had never seen such a document at a claim site before.

I put the paper back into its neat container and capped it tightly.

I picked up a discarded plastic water bottle in our way back to camp.

Snowbirding 2019 Postcards: Truck Stop Shower

Posted on January 27, 2019 by Maria Langer

One of the drawbacks of my truck camper is its teeny tiny bathroom. Not only is it very small, but the entire bathroom doubles as a shower stall.

The bathroom in my truck camper is teeny tiny.

It’s a bit of a pain in the neck to take a shower. I have to take everything I don’t want to get wet out of the bathroom — towels, make up, face cream, hairbrush, bathroom mat — or stow it inside the medicine cabinet or under sink storage area. Then I strip down and get inside the room, close the door, and close the shower curtain over the door. I get the water the temperature I want in the sink and then lift a little lever to redirect the water into the showerhead.

Often, I’m off the grid with no connection to a water source so I need to conserve water — my rig only holds 30 gallons of fresh water — and minimize the amount of water that goes into my gray water waste tank — which also holds only 30 gallons. That means wetting down, turning off the water, soaping up, turning on the water, rinsing off, etc. It’s especially troublesome when I need to wash my hair because I need an extra cycle for washing, rinsing, putting in conditioner, and rinsing the conditioner out. But I’m good at it and only use 2-3 gallons to shower.

It might sound absolutely awful, but it isn’t. The water is good and hot and I’ve never run out of hot water — because I’m usually conserving water. The bathroom/shower stall gets nice and warm during the shower. It really isn’t a big deal. But it isn’t anywhere near as nice as a regular shower.

This week, I worked at the big RV show in Quartzsite. I was parked in the campground and had a water and electric hook up with free RV dumping three times during my nine day stay. So conserving water was not an issue. But my next-door neighbor in the RV show, who was living in his van during the show, raved about the shower facility at the local Pilot truck stop. He even showed me pictures. Since it had been about two weeks since I had a shower in a regular bathroom, the pictures looked very inviting. And since it was time to wash my hair, I thought it might be a good time to try it out for myself.

Keep in mind that I have never showered at a truck stop before. In fact, I’ve only used a public pay shower about a half dozen times. But this was different. It was private and it looked clean.

So at 6:30 AM on Saturday morning I stepped up to the cashier at the Pilot truck stop and asked for a shower. He took $12 of my money and gave me a receipt with a guest number and PIN number on it. He told me that when my number called was called I would be directed to the shower that was mine.

I think the worst part of the entire experience was waiting at a small dining table in the waiting area. There were only four other people in there and two of them looked homeless and were sound asleep, sitting upright in their chairs. One of them actually might have been dead — he didn’t look natural at all.

After about five minutes, my number was called on the intercom, directing me to shower number two. I walked down a short hall and found the correct door. There was a pin pad on the outside and I managed to get it working on the second try.

The door to my shower.

Inside, it looked just like the pictures Patrick had shown me. There was a toilet, a bathroom counter with the sink, and a very large shower stall. Everything was very clean. There was a towel, washcloth, and bathmat. Inside the shower stall was soap, but I had brought my own.

There was a private toilet inside the little room.

Everything was very clean, including the bathroom linens.

Unlimited hot water with good water pressure and plenty of room to move around? Sign me up!

I turned the knob for the deadbolt and got right down to business. I gave my hair the best washing it had had since the beginning of the month when I stayed at a friend’s house. Then, after scrubbing myself thoroughly with the scrubby I had brought along, I stood under the hot water for five solid minutes. It felt great.

Finally, I shut off the water and stepped out onto the bathmat. I took my time telling off and getting dressed. Although the bathroom had been a little cool when I stepped into it, I was nice and warm from the shower.

I left the towels in a pile on the floor, gather together my belongings, and went outside. I stopped only to thank the cashier for having such a nice, clean showers.

Is this something I would do all the time? No. The shower in my camper really isn’t that bad. But I do admit that it was nice to get that good, long, hot shower with plenty of room to move around.

Best of all, I didn’t have to wipe the entire bathroom dry when I was done.

An Eclectic Mind

Web site and blog for Maria Langer, writer, video producer, jewelry artist, boat captain, and helicopter pilot. Blogging since 2004.